Warning

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Title: "Warning"
Pairing: Dominic Monaghan/Marton Csokas (Dominic Monaghan/Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Dom can handle anything.
Disclaimer: Never happened.
Notes: For the Furorscribendi 'pride' challenge.


Dom was a man used to going after what he wanted. Wasn't any point in beating around the bush, he'd always said, when he could just state it outright, get it, and be done. It was a strategy that had boded him well so far in life -- and had snagged him a place in Karl and Orlando's bed -- and he didn't see any need to change it. Why would he?

He could handle whatever life chose to throw at him.

And, right now, what he wanted was at the other end of the room, sharing a drink and a joke with Harry Sinclair.

"Alright, what's his story?"

"Um..." Karl looked around the crowded room and gave Dom a slightly puzzled stare. "Whose?"

Daft man. Like Karl didn't know. "Marton's, of course." Dom jerked his head in Marton's direction, who was currently laughing at some joke Harry'd just made. "You two used to be tight, so you said. So, give it up."

Karl's lips curved up in an arrogant smile that had Dom's cock stirring to life. He'd have to be dead for it not to turn him on. "What am I, the man's publicist? Find it out yourself."

Dom poked him in the side. "No, you're that hot guy I shag every odd day." Karl raised an eyebrow. "Alright, fine," Dom grumbled, but with no real heat, "you're the guy that shags me every odd day."

"Much better."

"Still don't see why I can't top every once in awhile. You let Orli do it."

"Maybe when you're older."

"Same age as Orli," Dom snorted, but didn't press the issue. Wasn't like he minded being nailed to the mattress by Karl -- and Orlando -- on an almost nightly basis. But, token protests got him great blowjobs, and Karl had a lethal mouth. Almost as lethal as Orlando's. Combine them both together and it was a wonder Dom ever managed to leave the bed.

"So, you want Marton's story, huh?" Karl sounded amused. Far too amused for Dom's liking. "What, you're planning on fucking the entire cast now? Should we take bets?"

Dom rolled his eyes. "Like you and Orlando are the entire cast. I just want an introduction."

"He's got a thing for soft and pretty. He'll eat you right up. You sure you're up for him?"

"Oh, never even crossed my mind," Dom lied with a totally straight face.

"Yeah, uh huh." Karl looked amused again, and grabbed Dom's hand. "Alright, I'll introduce you proper-like, and even get rid of Harry for you." His grin was sly as he walked with Dom across the room. "You do realize you'll owe me for this."

"Counting on it," Dom replied with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Karl's mouth.

He could handle this. Hell, he could handle anyone.

***

"Marton, ya daft bastard, how are you?"

Dom watched in fascinated, lustful silence as Karl and Marton embraced each other tightly. Wanted to wiggle like a happy puppy against all of that dark gorgeousness. New Zealand certainly knew how to grow men.

"Been good. Just got back into town. You?"

"Training and filming, mate." Karl's grin was wide, exposed beautiful white teeth.

"And who's your friend?"

"Oh, sorry, Marton, this is Dom." Karl's eyes continued to sparkle with dark amusement and Dom wondered precisely what it was he was getting himself into.

"Pleasure," he stated, and shook Marton's offered hand. Nice, solid handshake, bit of a glimmer in gold-flecked eyes. Dom had worked with worse.

"You're playing one of the Fellowship?"

Dom nodded, inwardly melting at the richly accented voice. Wondered what it would sound like moaning his name. "One of the Hobbits," he finally said. "Meriadoc."

"Plum role." Karl and Marton exchanged an indecipherable look and Dom shivered. Didn't know if he should run away or tie them both to the bedposts and keep them. Should be a sin to be that tall, dark and gorgeous. Well, maybe it was, and Dom was going to hell for wanting all of it focused on him.

There were worse things. He could handle it.

"I'm sure the two of you have much to talk about," Karl said, and ran light fingers down Dom's spine. "Orlando and I will catch up with you later."

Dom half-turned and leaned up to brush his lips across Karl's cheek. "You sure the two of you won't mind?" he murmured, low enough so they wouldn't be overheard.

Karl's reply was just as soft. "Not planning on making this a habit, are you?"

Dom mutely shook his head.

"Then have fun. I'm sure Orli and I can find something to do to pass the time. Just don't say I didn't warn you," Karl winked, and stepped back. "Gentlemen."

Dom and Marton both watched Karl stride across the room and pull Orlando into his arms. Orlando turned, pressing a kiss to Karl's neck before resuming his rather animated conversation with Craig.

When Marton turned back, Dom had to fight to keep from shivering at the speculative look. "So, what's the story with the three of you, anyway?"

Dom shrugged. He'd been asked this question before, more than once. "Mostly exclusive trio, I guess."

"Mostly?" Again, an elegant eyebrow raised and Dom couldn't contain the shiver this time. Jesus.

"We've...talked...about, y'know, sometimes going after someone else." Dom hated the stammer in his voice, but Marton's eyes were just about the most unnerving thing on the planet. Seemed to pierce right through him, through flesh and bone and carefully erected defenses like they weren't even there. "If we had, like, a yen to do it."

"Is that what I am, then? Your yen?"

Don't say I didn't warn you. Yeah, well, he'd been warned. What was life without risk? "If you're into the idea," he replied, fingers lightly dancing along Marton's forearm.

"As long as your lovers don't kill me tomorrow."

Dom grinned, stepped closer. His fingers crept gently up Marton's chest. "They'll be fine. And I'd rather not talk about them anymore." He had this gorgeous, dark creature right where he wanted him. Talking wasn't high on his list.

"Alright." Marton tugged on Dom's hand, led him outside to the shadowed porch. His teeth gleamed in the silvery moonlight, reminding Dom of stories he'd heard of werewolves roaming the land, ripping the throats out of their prey. Funny to be thinking of himself as bait when he'd been the one to seek this out.

"Leaving so soon then, are we?" he asked, just to hear his voice. Thankfully, it was steady enough, even though Marton's hand over his was doing nothing to reassure him.

"I've no wish to perform for an audience," Marton replied in a silky, dark hum, and no. Definitely not reassuring at all.

"Thought you and Karl had a history."

Marton's teeth gleamed once again. "We do. Doesn't mean I want to remind him of all he's been missing."

Dom chuckled, predatory and wicked, and curled his hand around the back of Marton's neck. "Now, who said he was missing out on anything?" he purred, running his lips along Marton's neck. Time to turn the tables, show Marton a small taste of what he'd be getting.

Marton tilted his head back, hands resting, loose and heated, on Dom's hips. "Tread carefully, Hobbit."

"I have Karl and Orlando as lovers," Dom murmured, flicking his tongue along Marton's stubbled jaw. "I'm not big on careful."

Marton's eyes took on an unholy glint. "I'm not Karl or Orlando."

The next second, Dom's entire world was ripped from under him. Marton crushed him in a vise-like grip, lips devouring, tongue invading, conquering, ravishing to the point of pain, then a step beyond, and all Dom could do was hold on, moan into Marton's mouth. The kiss, if something so wild and untamed could be called that, was brutal, thorough, fried Dom's every nerve and, by the time Marton lifted his head, Dom was pinned between the side of the house and Marton's body, panting like a bitch in heat and wondering where the hell his center of gravity was.

"Still want this?" Marton asked, grinding -- sinuous, lethal grace -- against Dom. He wasn't even breathing hard. Rather unfair to Dom's way of thinking, seeing as how he couldn't even get his legs to support him.

"What do you think?" he replied unsteadily, searching for that core of arrogance that had gotten him where he was today, had attracted both Karl and Orlando. He pushed forward, hips shifting, cocks rubbing, tried to give back as good as he was getting. He could handle this. Of course he could.

Marton licked full lips, hot gaze stripping Dom from head to toe, leaving him panting and weak. From just a look. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy taming you."

Dom's eyes flickered, lips curving into his trademark smirk. It wasn't quite all the way there, but he was coming back. "Now, what makes you think it'll be you taming me?" he asked, inviting -- no, begging -- for Marton to take him on.

He reminded himself that there wasn't a person or a situation he couldn't twist to his advantage. This time would be no exception. No exception at all, he thought, just before Marton yanked him forward into another kiss.


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