Better Late Than Never

by Vivi and Nienor

The needle sliding through his skin burned like the most vicious insect bite, a minuscule trail of fire filling the area with smoldering ink. Sean took a breath and let it out slowly, holding completely still regardless of the pain. Flinching in the middle of getting a tattoo was not a good idea, and even if it were, he knew Orlando and Elijah were watching his face greedily for any hint of weakness to be used against him later. They'd be on the phone before they walked out of the building, informing every person they knew, and possibly notifying the press, that Sean Bean was a little cunt who cried getting his tattoo.

Not bloody likely. He took enough abuse from these two. Peeking out from beneath his lashes, he saw Elijah was watching raptly, his eyes straying from the creation in progress on his arm to Sean's face, and Sean smirked when their eyes met, Elijah's flicking quickly back to the tattoo. It was because of these two little brats that he was here to begin with; after a few beers it had seemed quite sensible to go out at 2 am to find a tattoo parlor. It was only when the artist and Orli had hugged each other, laughing and teasing, that he'd realized how easily he'd been hustled.

Too late to back out by then, and it wasn't long before he'd been bullied into a chair, Orlando and Elijah stripping off his shirt for him before he could protest, the little brats both pinching and tickling before he'd swatted them away. He wasn't quite sure what he'd done in his life to deserve the abuse he got from those two, but it must have been something wretched.

"Almost done," the artist assured him, not looking up, and for that Sean was grateful. Just get the bloody thing over with and quit jabbering on about it.

"Looks great, man," Orli enthused and Elijah hastily agreed.

"Looks really good," he said, then sweetened his voice as he cooed, "Does it hurt, Sean? You're sweating like a fucking horse."

"I heard Viggo held your hand the whole time you got yours," Sean replied amicably, not opening his eyes. "You like it when he plays momma for you?"

The sharp kick to his shin wasn't entirely unexpected but he still rocked with it, just a tiny bit.

The artist cursed softly. "Please don't abuse the canvas until I'm done, or this is gonna say horse shit instead of nine."

"Didn't know Elves had a word for horse shit." Elijah slipped his foot out of his shoe and rubbed the spot he'd kicked with his toes in apology and Sean finally opened his eyes to give him a withering look. Hard enough to bloody well hold still without all this nonsense.

"They don't," yawned Orlando, who was well out of the range of any of Sean's glares. Not that they would have worked anyway. "Elves would say excrement and all that blather."

"Don't they swear at all?"

"Course not," Sean murmured, biting his tongue on a hiss of pain as the burn suddenly increased in temperature. "They're beyond that lowbrow stuff. Loftily and all that bullshit."

"No, horseshit." Sean didn't even have a chance to roll his eyes before Orlando and Lijah were cackling. He suspected they were a touch more drunk than he was by now. Most of his alcoholic haze had vanished with the first touch of the needle and whatever was left was trickling away with the sweat running down his back.

He felt a sharp flash of pain as the artist pulled the needle out, and then it was mostly over as the guy swabbed something wonderfully cool over his arm. "Done," he announced unnecessarily. "You know how to take care of it, right?"

"Yeah, I've done it before." He waited stoically as a bandage was taped neatly over the tat and before he could reach for his shirt, Orlando snatched it up instead.

"Lij! Catch!" Orli pitched the shirt fast, and Sean didn't quite make the interception, playing injured as he was; Elijah balled the shirt into a little wad and broke like he was heading for the goal-- the end zone, as the Americans called it.

Orli laughed, leaning lazily on the tattoo artist; Sean had more than a sneaking suspicion that those two fancied each other, especially given how infrequently Orli had been pulling his baggy trousers up through the course of the evening.

Sean had actually bet with himself that they would fall, more than once, and lost by only the narrowest of margins. Of course, you could trust Orli to wear madras plaid boxers and then try to do the gangsta fashion thing.

Only Orli.

Sean chuckled softly to himself. "Elijah, give that back or I'll trounce you for it."

"That a promise?" Elijah was a wild-eyed hellion, that he was-- too lazy to shave, maybe modeling the scraggly look after Orli, who could manage to come off cute with an ill-kempt adolescent beard, something Elijah didn't manage with nearly as much panache.

"Try me." Sean unfastened his belt and Elijah's eyes went wide; there was enough guilty little boy in that look that Sean laughed. "Just till we get home," he wheedled, half-unsure what he was promising.

"Good enough, Orli?" Elijah eyed Orli. "ORLI!"

Orli tore himself away from the tattoo artist a little guiltily. "Hm? Yeah." He paused, then sheepishly: "Is what good enough?"

"Lets get him out of here," Elijah barked laughter at Sean. "While we still can, before he falls over on his ass."

They had paid before the man set to work, so Sean nodded, swiping his shirt and shrugging into it, only fastening enough buttons to discourage police officers.

Now that the pain was over Sean's head was singing, and he felt like he could jump over a skyscraper-- endorphins. He scooped Elijah into his arm and beckoned for Orli; Orli refused to let go his pet tattoo artist, however. Elijah snuggled up tight, his hips fitting snugly against Sean's front, and Sean was unable to resist the impulse to curl his arm down and settle his palm against Elijah's sharp hipbone. "Take a picture?" he asked.

Orli had a camera, hanging around his neck on a strap like a tourist. One of the shop's employees obliged them, snapping the shutter; Elijah paused to leave a fat tip in the jar and then they were on the sidewalk, laughing, wind tearing at their clothes, Orli's camera slung around his neck.

Somehow they had managed to leave the fourth inside; Sean counted twice to make sure.

"I could've made that," Orli announced mournfully.

"Wanker." Elijah reached over to smack him, jostling Sean's arm.

"Ow," Sean warned him cordially. "Watch it." He eyed the street for a taxi; fuck, this was New York City, there damn well better be cabs at three-thirty AM.

"If it's a fucking you want, then you don't need to hit on some stranger with a needle," Sean heard himself say. Maybe all the alcohol was rushing back now that the pain had gone; he usually kept his mates and his bed well-separated. "I've got what you need, if you want a buggering."

Orli looked at him, his face suddenly all dark eyes and wet lips. "If you've got the balls to get it up for me, I can take whatever you've got," he purred.

Sean's eyes narrowed, and he reached out, catching Orlando's arms above the shoulder-- he looked deceptively thin in his loose clothing, but there was hard muscle on his narrow frame. Sean yanked him forward, groin to groin, and let Orli feel his heat. "That won't be a problem," he breathed, right in Orli's face.

"GUYS! I am NOT getting arrested because you two decided to try fucking on this goddamned fucking street!" Elijah whined.

"Okay," Sean answered, still giddy from the hard line of Orlando's erection crossing his. "If you get arrested, it'll be because all three of us decided to try fucking on this goddamned fucking street."

Orli dissolved into giggles and Elijah smacked the back of Sean's head. "Look, a cab," he crowed suddenly, and all but darted out in traffic making sure it didn't get past them.

Orlando squirmed out of Sean's hands and made a show of adjusting his nonexistent shirt cuffs. "Why, Sean, such lewd behavior," he said haughtily and then ruined it with a sly grin. "Didn't know you went for the blokes."

"I don't; that's why I made you two the offer," Sean replied lightly, leaving it hanging in the air. Maybe it was the endorphin kick or maybe it was just Orli was too damned pretty for a bloke, wetting his lips with a flicker of pink tongue and laughing softly.

"Just asking for it, aren't you?" The look in Orli's eyes was beyond suggestive, well on the way to a promise of something dark and seductive, and Sean swallowed hard, not quite sure he was this damned drunk. Didn't need a fucking sign to see which way Orli went, and he was just as happily inclined to shag a good looking man as he was a woman, or even both. He'd never offered so overtly before though; maybe they were all a little too drunk. Sean wasn't entirely sure he cared.

"Maybe I am," he dared and before Orli could reply, Elijah's plaintive whine interrupted them.

"Could you please come flirt in the cab instead? It's three in the bloody morning, you wankers!"

"Just doesn't sound right without the accent, Lijah." Orli shook his head and gave Sean a shove in the direction of the cab, startling him into motion, and what the bloody hell had he been thinking? They all needed to go back to the hotel and sleep this off before he said or did something else stupid.

He crawled haphazardly into the backseat, settling himself between Elijah and Orli, and he closed his eyes, letting his head rest against the back of the seat while Lijah gave the cabbie directions. Apparently, the last of his adrenaline was churning its way out of his bloodstream and exhaustion was starting to gnaw at him. Switching time zones all the time was a bloody nuisance.

Tired, yeah, fucking drained, but not so tired that he didn't feel the sudden, warm pressure of a hand on his knee, fingertips running lightly down the inside seam of his trousers. His cock leapt to attention again with that one touch, and he breathed out a silent moan. Fucking Orlando, with his flirty little ways, and chances were he was going to be nursing a case of blue balls back at the hotel-- except Orlando was sitting on his other side, he was sure of it. He cracked open his eyes to peer in the direction of his lap and in the brief flash of a streetlight he saw a pale hand with short, bitten nails creeping its way up his inner thigh.

Well, that was unexpected. He managed to glance at Elijah and found him staring out the window, seemingly immersed in whatever scenery there was in New York, apparently unknowing that his hand had seceded from the whole and was seeking warmer climates.

Elijah's hand slid higher up his leg, his fingertips rubbing teasing little circles as they crept upward even as the owner of that hand sighed, resting his chin on his other hand as he watched the blur of buildings pass outside the window. All the innocence in those wide blue eyes was apparently just for show, and if he thought he was going to get away with teasing like this just because they were in a taxi, Elijah needed to think again.

Sean closed his hand over Elijah's smaller one and pulled it deliberately higher, settling it over the aching bulge of his cock, and he bit back a groan at the satisfying pressure. The fingers beneath his struggled briefly, startled, but Elijah gave in easily enough, shifting his hand to hold Sean in the cup of his palm.

Their fingers tangled together, stilted movements, and the friction of his pants was like a slow burn, uncomfortable and sultry-warm, and Elijah was still looking out the fucking window, the little shit.

Enough of that. In one quick motion, he scooped Elijah up, ignoring his startled squawk as he shifted them both around in the cramped backseat until Elijah was in his lap, the warm curve of his backside a perfect fit. Elijah twisted frantically, trying to get away, but there wasn't enough room for a proper struggle and it hardly would have mattered; Sean had both arms around his waist and he held Elijah firmly against him, sighing approval of every wriggle and squirm until Elijah finally surrendered and sagged against Sean's grip.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sean murmured into Lijah's ear, felt him shiver in response.

"Did I miss something?" Orlando's voice was warm and amused next to them.

"Yes. Elijah offered himself up as a snack," Sean told him before burying his face against Elijah's neck, ignoring his indignant, "Hey!" as he licked at the soft, creamy skin there, sucking a blush of color to the surface. Sean raised his head long enough to ask, cordially, "Would you like a taste?"

"Hey, wait a second, I wasn't..." Elijah was stammering, shrinking away from Orlando's smirk, but the only thing behind him was Sean.

"Yeah," Orlando said, softly. "I would." He lifted up long enough to tug his wallet out of his back pocket, pulling out a sizeable fold of bills that he passed silently through the cage separating them from the driver. The man, his face barely visible in the darkness, accepted them without a word and flipped the rearview mirror completely down.

To Sean's startlement, however, Orli slid his arm around Sean's waist, not Elijah's. "I like beef more than I like chicken," he purred, and leaned in, his narrow mouth sliding wetly up the tendon in Sean's throat.

"Hey!" Elijah protested, indignant.

Sean felt heat gather in his body, radiating out from everywhere either of them were touching him and seeming to center in his head, boiling away what little was left of his brains. It looked like this wasn't a joke after all-- or if it was, it was a joke that was going to carry through the whole evening, even though they already knew the punchline.

Rational thought evaporated as Elijah leaned in, mirroring Orli's clever mouth and improving on it with a few tricks of his own, practiced on Sean's earlobe. Sean groaned, his cock twitching, painfully squeezed under Elijah's weight.

Orli laughed deep in his throat. "Last chance to back down, Sean." He licked Sean's ear again, tongue diving into the whorls and curls of it, dancing and retreating; then he blew lightly and Sean shivered. "Last chance...."

Sean didn't hesitate; he fisted his hand in Orli's hair and hauled him around, sealing their mouths together and kissing Orli hard enough to bruise them both. Behind his closed eyelids his vision shattered to sparkles as Elijah shifted in his lap; one way or the other, these two were going to kill him if he didn't get control of this little situation right now.

He slid his free hand down the back of Elijah's jeans-- loose enough to hang off his hips, they let him in easily, and he slid down the cleft of Elijah's arse with ease, fingers probing. Yes, there, and Elijah was loose enough that he took two fingers easily, so Sean twisted and pushed them in all the way to the second knuckle.

Elijah keened shrilly against his skin, teeth sinking hard into his earlobe. He was already slick, the little cocksucking bastard-- Orli must have had him before they met for dinner; they'd been a little flushed from the very beginning, come to think about it.

Elijah wailed, voice rising and falling with each thrust of Sean's fingers, and Sean almost forgot Orli's tongue stabbing into his mouth-- Elijah was wickedly hot inside, and he suddenly wasn't sure if he could wait to get in a hotel room before jerking Elijah's jeans off him and fucking him straight into next week-- but all Orli's money wouldn't buy the cabbie off enough, not for that.

Even this was probably pushing it, truth be told-- and the thought sobered him enough that he heard the cabbie clearing his throat. "This is your address, mister. Mister?"

Sean dragged his fingers out of Elijah and wiped them on the boy's shirt without remorse, then manhandled Orli away from his face.

"Thanks for the ride. Tip him again, Orli." Sean heard the husk in his voice, but he manfully ignored it, attempting to maneuver Elijah's suddenly jellylike frame out of the car. "That's it, stand up, or you'll never get any more," he muttered, and that seemed to put some starch back in Elijah's knees-- and his spine, to boot; he even managed to glare at the stain on his tee-shirt while Orli paid the cabbie.

Sean felt the sidewalk sway under him, and blamed the excess of blood in his groin for the dizziness in his head. The room suddenly seemed a thousand miles away, an impossible journey over impassable obstacles.

"Fuck, paparazzi at nine o'clock," Orlando hissed. "Quick, before they see us!" He darted for the service entrance and Sean hastily lumbered after him; Elijah passed them both and darted inside while they were still rounding the final curve into the home stretch.

"Coward," Orli accused him when they were inside the nasty stairwell.

"There's already enough pictures circulating of me popping a woody," Elijah muttered. "It's you guys' turn."

"Well, if you didn't get it up every time somebody got within two feet of you," Orli needled him. "Learn some self-control!"

Sean ignored them both and started climbing the stairs, cursing the press; after a couple of flights he judged they'd passed the danger zone and they ventured out cautiously in search of an elevator. The stairs had mostly killed his erection anyway, though Elijah was still sporting a stubborn tent, and Orli was camouflaging his hard-on with a very indiscreet application of palm.

He jammed a thumb against the button and waited, feeling strangely shy, not looking at either of their young faces. He was the oldest here; he was the least drunk. He was the sensible one; he should take over and put an end to this before it broke down under the harsh light of day.

"Well, that was fun," he spoke as the elevator arrived. "But what floor are you two on?"

"Your floor." Orlando glowered at him. "I told you-- last chance. That chance is gone."

Elijah just looked at him with wide, stricken eyes, and he suddenly remembered, guilt washing over him, how he'd pushed his fingers inside the lad, and how he'd squealed. Now just looking at him made Sean cotton-mouthed with lust.

"Whatever," he grumbled, covering embarrassment with bluster. "It's up to you."

"Is it?" Orli brightened. "Then I say you fuck Elijah. Hard. While I watch."

Ohhhh, that did it-- blood surged to Sean's cock-- just as the elevator dinged and a couple stepped in, eyeing them all with some alarm.

After one look, the couple pressed the button for the next floor; it took maybe thirty seconds to complete the transit, but they were agonizing ones, and Sean felt himself turn as red as a beet. Orli was sniggering before the door closed, and Sean decided that he wouldn't get away with that, not at all.

"I'm gonna fuck you, too," Sean growled at Orli. "Maybe over the balcony rail, so the paparazzi can get some good shots."

Orli just licked his lips at Sean, cocking his hip seductively, and Elijah laughed, breathless. Once again, when the elevator stopped Elijah was first to scamper out and head down the hall, dancing impatiently from foot to foot in front of Sean's door when they caught up.

"What, do you have to piss?" Orli shoved him and Elijah sprang back; they wrestled for a minute as Sean fumbled out his key card and scrabbled with the handle and the slot, praying nobody would open their door to see what the infernal racket was.

He sighed with relief when the door swung inward, promising cool dark sanctuary. The AC was all the way up, just like he liked it.

Orli and Elijah tumbled in after him, still struggling-- and he realized that the argument had seamlessly transformed into something else; they were tearing at each other's clothes like there was no tomorrow.

"God help me." He raised his eyes towards heaven.

A tee shirt flew in his direction, knotted and jangling with the half dozen charms Orli wore around his neck and Sean swallowed hard, watching the tangle of smooth limbs and warm skin pressed against his door. Elijah had his face buried in Orli's chest, only the back of his head visible, but there was a row of dark bruises marring that smooth, dusky skin already, decadent and teeth-shaped.

He felt like a bloody voyeur, standing here awkwardly and just watching them; his boldness had sapped away the minute they'd left the taxi and stepped back into reality without a haze of beer and lust. Elijah and Orli were too easy with each other, probably had been screwing in New Zealand, and it was amazing what hiding behind the obvious could do for you. Or maybe Sean had been just too bloody stupid to distinguish between teasing and familiarity.

Whatever the reason, he was here now, his tongue dry and sticking to the roof of his mouth while he watched Elijah slip lower, flicking open the buttons of Orli's fly with entirely too much skill, easing the pants over slim hips and down Orli's legs so he could kick them aside.

Orlando's eyes were open and gleamed darkly at Sean as he said, "Think you're a bit overdressed, yeah?" And yeah, maybe he was, still in his shirt and jacket while Orli was more naked then not, and Elijah was sitting on the floor, writhing leisurely out of his own jeans. Last chance was over and gone, and he shrugged out of his jacket with more confidence than he felt, unbuttoning his shirt and stripping it off for the second time that night.

The last time Orlando and Elijah had all but pulled it off of him; he hadn't seen their faces then and wondered if they'd looked anything like they did now, nothing but pure heat and lust in their contrasting eyes, and it was suddenly bell-clear that he'd been hustled again by these two little brats, as easy as you please.

He found it a lot easier to be daring when rallied by a little righteous indignation, and he reached down to haul Elijah to his feet, settling for the lesser of the two evils for the moment. He did wonder how true that might be a moment later, when Elijah melted against him, happily naked and tipping his head up for Sean's kiss. The soft sweet mouth was just an illusion, lasting long enough for Elijah to catch Sean's lip between his teeth and bite hard enough to make him shudder, unexpected heat sizzling downward and making his cock feel like stone.

Elijah was a fair bit shorter than him, built with slim, wiry strength, but Sean was stronger, heavier, and it was entirely too easy to manhandle him down onto the bed, pressing a knee between taut thighs and snugging it firmly against Elijah's crotch. His hands were warm and little-boy sweaty and Sean pressed a thumb into each palm, holding him down with lazy ease.

"You started a game with me in the taxi," Sean accused, nuzzling wetly against Elijah's mouth with his tongue and tasting spice, those fucking cloves Lijah was always smoking. Elijah made a soft, plaintive sound and licked his lips, swirling his tongue against Sean's obscenely.

"I did," he gasped, wriggling happily against Sean's knee, "Whatcha gonna do about it?" Gleefully goading.

"I think you should fuck him." Orlando moved suddenly close, his hands warm on Sean's back. "His arse is as tight as a bloody virgin, you know," he continued conversationally, ignoring Elijah's whimpered protest, and there was suddenly a new layer of damp between Elijah's dick and Sean's knee.

Orlando's hands made their way around Sean's hips, worming between him and Lij to work free the button at Sean's waist, hands sleek as doves as he eased the trousers down, the touch of his fingers infuriatingly brief as they brushed over Sean's cock, freeing him.

Wait, he almost protested, it was too bloody fast-- his thoughts were skittering backwards even as Orlando rolled a condom on him, the sudden pressure making him gasp, and Elijah was so easy, terrifyingly flexible, folding his legs up against his chest and tilting his hips, so fucking sluttish, impossible to resist.

Sean slid in so easily it shocked him, so abruptly surrounded by clenching heat that he almost came right then like the kind of youngster he kept accusing these two of being. He held as still as he could, Elijah wriggling beneath him and moaning piteously as he tried to persuade Sean to move, crooning startlingly obscene words, unstopping even as Sean shook, prickling with sweat and panic.

"All right, then, you little bastard," he snarled, kicking his trousers off his ankles before drawing his knees onto the bed, and he lifted Lij's sleek little hips in his hands and fucked, stabbing in as hard as he could and relishing Elijah's startled squeal.

Blissfully tight. Orlando had been right about that, and it was so easy to lift him into each thrust, his body lax and his skin wet, slippery inside and out. Elijah's face was glazed in a mask of dazed hunger, jarringly frantic beneath him, and Sean had to hold him still, overwhelm him with his larger body and roll those slim hips against his own as he moved deeply inside that perfect heat.

"Oh, oh, oh, shit, yes," A dizzy loop of whimpers, catching on the occasional startled yelp as Sean pushed in harder, gliding in and out of this fucking wonderful little brat who was screwing up his face, hiding the incredible blue of his eyes behind his lashes as he shook and came, spattering them both with glossy wetness.

Orgasm came as a blow, a shock that was almost like pain as Sean spasmed, gripping Elijah's hips bruisingly hard and dimly feeling the warm, liquid rush of it bathing him within latex. He thought he might be hurting Elijah, at the very least suffocating him, and it took every ounce of strength he had left to back off a fraction, listening with dim guilt as Elijah sucked in a frantic breath and squirmed wildly against him.

With exaggerated care, he lowered Elijah back onto the bed, holding the condom gingerly as he pulled out. He winced at Elijah's ragged moan. There was a waste can at the head of the bed, and Sean tossed the condom in that direction with a vague hope that he made it.

Sean considered rolling off to the side, suddenly more awkward now than when he'd first stepped into the room, unable to meet Elijah's eyes. He didn't have time to decide; Elijah wound arms and legs around him and hauled him back down against his cooling body. He went without complaint, folding Elijah's slim form against his own, warming him.

The bed rocked suddenly as Orlando flung himself down next to them. "You're such a little slut," Orlando sighed, running his hand down Elijah's chest and smearing the pearly streaks.

"Fuck you," Elijah mumbled, swatting at Orli lazily. Sean said nothing, deciding to leave the banter to the two people who were better at it.

Unfortunately, Orlando wasn't inclined to fall silent, determined to include Sean. "Didn't I tell you he was good? Better than even Viggo, I bet."

"How would I know?"

"Oh, come on," Elijah scoffed, cracking open an eye to glare at Sean, and he swatted Sean's bandaged arm hard enough to make him hiss. "Everyone knew you were banging him."

"I did no such thing!" Sean pulled away to look at them with wide, horrified eyes.

There was a long moment of silence before Orlando exclaimed, "You're serious! You didn't sleep with Viggo?" It sounded like an accusation, and Sean shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't make a habit of shagging my friends," Sean tried, and it sounded weak even to him.

"We're your friends, and you're shagging us," Orlando pointed out reasonably, and he flopped back on the bed with a sigh. "Years full of masturbation material ruined just like that. Thanks a load, Sean."

"Like watching me fuck Elijah through the mattress didn't give you more?" Sean grumbled, and Elijah laughed, a sound of bright delight under his chest.

"Mmm, yes." Orli palmed his cock without the slightest hint of self-consciousness. "Even though I can fuck Elijah myself, whenever I want."

"You mean COULD," Elijah glared at him.

"Can," Orli insisted, grinning like yellow dog dingo from the poem Sean's mum used to say to get him to shut up and be quiet on rainy afternoons.

"Wanker."

"Bottom-boy tramp."

"Boys." Sean rumbled as Elijah's eyes flashed fire. "Enough." He reached and reeled Orlando in, making him stop stroking his cock and roll closer. "Save your energy, Orlando. You're going to need it."

"Am I?" Orli laughed, taunting and hot. "Looks like you're not ready to make any boasts about that right this minute."

"If you don't know what to do about a man who's sidelined with a refractory period, then you've got no business calling Elijah a bottom-boy tramp," Sean drawled lazily. He rolled off Elijah onto his belly and cocked one leg, looking out of his folded arms at Orli with one eye.

Orli licked his lips and Elijah made a soft sound somewhere between a laugh and a whimper.

"Come on, then," Sean goaded Orli. Orli's cock was long, but it was slender, and it had been a long time, but he knew he could take it. "Put your money where your mouth is."

Orli hesitated only a moment before vaulting over Elijah, landing on his knees next to Sean. "All right, but remember, you asked for it."

Sean just purred and let Orli stuff a pillow under his hips, waiting to be mounted, but Orli was in no hurry.

"Elijah..." Orli murmured. "I think Sean would appreciate one of your specials."

"Mmm." Elijah rolled over and moved towards Sean. "If you return the favor later."

"I'll even let him watch, if he likes. The way you squeal could give a statue a hard-on; it'll work wonders on an old man."

"You aren't fucking Ian here," Sean pointed out dryly. "In fact, you aren't even fucking me."

"Hurry up, Elijah." Orli was squirming in the wrong direction, toward Sean's face. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he had in mind, and Sean eyed him with one eyebrow raised.

"You do give head?" Orli sounded a little plaintive.

Sean let him suffer, enjoying the sensation of Elijah's hands sliding over his ribs and Elijah's warm breath on his spine between his shoulderblades. "Well, I suppose I could give it a try."

"You never gave head before?!"

"Orlando. I'm an actor." Sean reached out and grasped Orli's cock with a sure, steady hand. "I've spent time on my knees auditioning for roles since I was seventeen."

"Well, I didn't know. It might've been different then!"

"Yeah, I once competed for a job with Fred Flintstone, way back in the Stone Age," Sean commented dryly, wondering if Orli had the sense to realize that the longer he kept insulting Sean, the longer before he would actually receive his blowjob.

"Elijah, he's talking too much. You aren't doing your job," Orli accused.

"An artist needs time and room to work. Viggo says so."

Sean felt a flare of jealousy. "You've both had Viggo?"

"He's had both of us, if that's what you mean." Orli looked faraway; he licked his lip again.

Sean nuzzled at Orli's balls thoughtfully, planning his next response, then abandoned any attempt at eloquence. "Is he good?" he asked, then licked up the side of Orli's cock, tongue wide and flat.

"Ohhhhhh, God. Yes." Orli's hands found Sean's head automatically, trying to find a purchase in his short hair. Sean felt his skin prickle as Elijah's tongue danced deftly at the small of his back, finding the dimple of his hip and attacking it; he suddenly wondered exactly what a special was.

Trusting to fate and the perverse imagination of the young, he pulled the head of Orli's cock into his mouth and sucked lightly, enjoying the sharp salt of precome. Orli whimpered and Sean reached to cradle his balls, rolling them in his palm.

Elijah's sharp little teeth sank viciously at the join of his hip and thigh, making Sean shudder; Lij's tongue felt rough and hot as a cat's as he dragged it along the bite. Sean felt himself matching Elijah's rhythm with Orlando, sliding down the other side of Orli's cock, lips and tongue sloppy-wet.

Orli's hips thrust upward at him, and Sean agilely evaded the thrust, then got his mouth back on Orli, in position this time, and Orli sank into his mouth the next time he thrust. Elijah's tongue fluttered at Sean's cleft, making heat flare and surge beneath the surface of his skin. Sean slid his fingers back, touching lightly at the entrance to Orli's body, and Orli mewed with surprise, but Sean didn't press in; he teased the little pucker with his fingertip as he lapped circles around the head of Orli's cock like an ice-cream cone.

He didn't trust himself to have it in his mouth when Elijah pulled his hips apart, when Elijah's soft stubble scratched lightly between his cheeks, when Elijah's breath caressed him and then-- GOD, Elijah's slick wet tongue stabbed into him with no warning, then darted back out again to circle and tease, even as he teased Orli.

He felt himself shiver, legs parting, begging without words for Elijah to do it again, but Elijah was nipping at his perineum, marking savage little bites right down to his balls, and Sean jerked uncontrollably with each one, his fingertip threatening to press into Orlando.

"God," Sean whined, lips wet against Orli's cock; agony and pleasure sparkled in him like a sputtering highway flare. His toes curled savagely, and he gritted his teeth. Orlando chuckled, throaty and even a little malicious, and Sean instinctively rammed his finger deep, all the way to his third knuckle.

"FUCK!" Orli shuddered; his cock painted a wet line across Sean's cheek to his ear. "Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," he chanted, body spasming around Sean's finger.

Elijah's tongue shattered Sean's concentration again. Wicked and wet and obscenely intimate, it plunged into Sean with an unbelievably rude intimacy, and he had no problem at all with recovery, not with Elijah doing that-- he wasn't pulling back this time; he was tongue-fucking Sean hot and quick and steady, maddeningly shallow-- a tongue in your ass felt so fucking good, but it was never long enough, never thick enough...

Sean gritted his teeth over a moan and moved his finger inside Orlando, matching Elijah's rhythm again, stabbing his fingertip at Orli's prostate and scratching his own beard stubble along Orli's spit-wet cock.

Orli squirmed, strangling a howl, and groped for Sean's head, blindly guiding his mouth, and Sean inhaled Orli as deep as he could at the same time as he forced a second finger into his arse. He'd teach Orli to tease him with Viggo. The dirty, conniving little bastard! Before the night was out, Sean was determined to fuck him so hard he could taste it on the back of his tongue.

Tongue. God. Elijah, still licking him, wetter now and hotter, pausing to circle outside, pausing to nip Sean's perineum and bite the tender insides of his thighs, alternating between fingers and tongue and Sean realized, with startlement, that Elijah had three fingers in him already-- again not long enough, but rubbing bright flares over his prostate.

Elijah, fucking eating his ass like he was prime steak, moaning as he took his fingers out and struggled to get his tongue deeper into Sean, the little desperate, eager sounds making Sean's balls ache, hot and heavy. Sean felt his head swim with the impossible fucking heat of it.

Orli moaned, and Sean realized his balls were drawing up tight; if he wasn't careful he'd push Orli too far, and then who would give him the fucking he wanted? He raked Orli's cock with his teeth, making him yelp, drawing him away from the verge.

"Fuck me," he rasped. "If you can get Elijah to stop before it's too late. FUCK!" Without Orli to distract him, he could focus his whole attention on Elijah's tongue, on the way it teased just inside him, on the way Elijah closed his teeth lightly and then shoved his tongue between them....

"My turn, my turn, my turn," Orli chanted, scrambling down the bed. "You greedy little whore, stop it, leave some for me!" He yanked Elijah up, and then nobody was touching Sean, and he growled, looking down the bed-- Orli was snogging Elijah like the taste of Sean was all he'd ever wanted.

"Bloody hell!" Sean bellowed. "I'm dying here!"

Orli reached without letting go of Elijah's mouth and slapped Sean's arse crisply in response.

Sean jerked, the sharp sting going straight to his cock, his nerves sizzling. "I'll make you pay for that," he groaned. "Now get over here and fuck me, or I'll jerk myself off and the two of you will never see me again!"

"Fuck him," Elijah whispered against Orli's mouth. "Fuck him, and I'll rim you while you do it, Orli."

"All right, if it'll shut both of you up!" Orlando growled, his sharp grin belying his tone. Elijah scampered away from him, scrabbling into the drawer beside the bed and fishing out another square of foil. He ripped it open with his teeth and fumbled for Orli's cock until Orli batted his hands away and rolled on the condom himself.

Sean inhaled as Orli sprawled across his back, his cock sliding unerringly into the cleft of Sean's arse. Orli made a low noise of satisfaction, riding against him slickly, but not pushing inside.

"Fuck, will you just DO it!" Sean snarled, trying and failing to angle his hips enough to force it inside him.

"You want to get fucked?" Orlando crooned, something dark and lustful his voice. "You got it." He shoved in almost brutally, driving in to the hilt, and Sean only just remembered to muffle his roar into the pillow, clenching it so hard he thought he might break his fingers. Christ, it fucking hurt; it burned like a flare.

Orlando wasn't moving; he only gasped out a cry of his own, "Jesus, fuck, you're tighter than Elijah. You ever done this before?" Concerned panic glittered bright in his voice and Sean bucked up against him fiercely, trying to force him into motion.

"Yes, yes," he hissed impatiently. "I was getting bent over before you were born, you bastard, fuck, will you MOVE?"

It was enough to jolt him into motion, whatever worries Orli had evaporating into vapor as he caught Sean's hips in a firm grip and rammed in, jackhammer hard. Once, twice, before he suddenly slowed, shifting into a slow, smooth glide.

"No..." Sean groaned, thrashing in protest, but Orlando was stronger than he looked and his grip was like iron.

"You already had your turn on top." Gaspy laughter, and Orlando slid in again deftly, rubbing over that sweet spot inside where all Sean's nerves seemed to be focused, rocking his hips in quick, short little thrusts before nearly pulling out completely. "Besides... oh... if you'd had Elijah behind you instead of beneath you... oh, fuck... you'd have gone slower too."

He wanted to say he didn't give a flying fuck about Elijah at that moment, couldn't be made to care if someone told him he'd never screw Elijah again. He couldn't find the breath, half strangling on his own moans as Orlando rocked into him again, liquid smooth, and held it, feeling the thrumming pulse of it inside him.

"Orlando..." he rasped, clenching tight and earning a sharp inhalation and nothing more.

"Say please, and I'll finish you off," Orli teased breathlessly, grinding his hips against Sean's arse, and when Sean tried to pull forward, to fuck himself on the hard cock inside him, Orlando followed, keeping their bodies flush.

Fucking little cocksucking bastard had him by the short hairs and he knew it, triumph shining in his voice, and Sean tried again to move, pushing his hips back hopefully, dizzy with the want of it. Orlando gave him one deep thrust, snapping his hips against Sean's arse before falling still again.

"Orlando, please!" His voice broke, needier than he'd meant it to be, and for a moment, he thought Orlando wasn't going to move anyway, shocked into stillness this time, the fucking bloody bastard, give him what he wants and he still doesn't....

A slightly shaky hand smoothed a path down his back. "All right, then." He knew it was coming, anticipation burning acid-hot as Orlando drew back, and he still nearly shrieked at the first brutal thrust, twisted instead into a curse as Orli pounded into him, reaming him open in a way no one had for fucking years, and how could he have ever forgotten how fucking GOOD it was, having someone deep inside, even the feeling of being torn apart so incredibly good....

Orlando was making harsh, deep sounds with each lunge, each one closer to a sob as he yanked Sean back onto his cock, slamming into him hard enough to jolt the bed against the wall, and heat was spiking through him. So fucking close, but he couldn't reach down to touch himself, had to keep his hands braced on the bed to keep from being shoved forward. He settled for rubbing against the coverlet, sharp friction edging him closer.

"Fucking Christ, Sean," Orlando whimpered, his short nails digging into Sean's hips as he pushed in again so deep Sean swore it would kill him; taking him, OWNING him, and Sean didn't care, just wanted it more, would have given Orlando fucking anything at that moment as long as he didn't stop.

He came shouting Orlando's name, splintering apart in a wash of almost agonizing pleasure, black-red light strobing behind his eyes as he poured himself out in hot pulses that matched his heartbeat. Muscles cramped and nerves scraped nearly raw, Sean slumped into the comforting embrace of the bed. Orlando's final thrust was almost a relief, and he slumped down on Sean's back heavily, shaking violently.

It seemed like forever before the roar of blood in his ears finally quieted enough for him to hear Orlando breathing raggedly in his ear, one hand stroking his side feebly. They were glued together a little repulsively with an impressive amount of sweat, and Sean wondered if his legs would support him long enough to crawl into the shower.

"Jesus fucking Christ! I get to fuck him next." Elijah bounced on the bed next to them and ducked away from two swats aimed in his direction. His voice was ripe with indignation as he said, "Geez, I didn't say right this second."

"Haven't you ever heard of an afterglow?" Orlando mumbled, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss against Sean's shoulder before rolling off him. "You fucking heathen."

"Yeah, you say that every time I do something you like." Elijah grinned.

"Could you both please be quiet until I find whatever is left of my wits?" Sean sighed, wincing as he carefully shifted out of the decidedly wet spot beneath him. Damned brats.

He didn't even have time to groan as Elijah pounced on him and kissed him with charming sweetness that he simply couldn't resist, stroking his tongue softly into Sean's mouth before drawing away. Elijah snuggled up against him, indifferent to the various fluids that smeared between them as he pressed his nose against Sean's.

"If we waited for you to gather all your wits, we would be old men, too," Elijah informed him seriously and Sean was too exhausted to even hit him for it. He settled for pinching him on the arse and holding him tightly as he lurched and squealed.

"Could both you old men move for a minute so I can pull down the linens?" Orlando drawled. They managed to get the blankets down, moving as little as possible while Orlando bitched and yanked. "There!" he sighed explosively, squashing Elijah in the middle as he crawled under the covers.

"We're bloody disgusting and we stink," Sean mumbled sleepily, tucking Elijah's head comfortably under his chin. He was already asleep, snuggling into Sean's arms with touching vulnerability.

"And sleeping a couple hours won't change that."

There was an argument to be made in there somewhere, but Sean was too tired to think of it. He was already asleep before he finished considering it, breathing in the warm scent of Elijah in his arms and when Orlando's hand settled warmly over his own, he squeezed it drowsily, twining their fingers together.

~~*~~

The sound of running water finally stirred Sean awake; light slanted in through the curtain at a sharp enough angle that he knew it was near noon, but he didn't care. Elijah was warm and sweet against him, murmuring a protest as Sean shifted.

So much for Orli not caring about getting a shower; he'd managed to nab the first one, and if Sean knew anything about Orlando Bloom, he knew damn well that Orli was the sort of bloke who'd use up all the hot water and refuse to feel ashamed of it later.

Sean shifted; Elijah's cock was hard, poking him somewhere near his navel, and his own wasn't far behind, interested in the silky warm expanse of Elijah's thigh, but the sound of that hot water... sweat and come felt sticky and thick on his skin, and it itched, and damned if he was going to wait an hour for the hot water heater to warm up again.

He gently shifted Elijah off him-- it took some doing; Elijah clung to him like a limpet, worse than his second wife, but he managed it and padded towards the bathroom, yawning and scratching his belly. Orli was in the shower, soaping himself noisily, humming, hidden behind the opaque shower curtain like something out of Psycho, and Sean took a long, satisfying piss without Orli ever seeming to realize he'd come in.

Orli shrieked when Sean yanked back the shower curtain, his hands flying to cover his genitals, and Sean pantomimed stabbing at him with a butcher knife, grinning.

"You've watched too many goddamned Viggo movies," Orli accused him.

"Shove over," Sean ordered, stepping into the tub without further ado.

"HEY!" Orli batted at him uselessly. "My shower!"

Sean ignored him, pulling the curtain shut before the floor could turn into a lake. His cock had hardened when he'd revealed Orli's tawny, lean body, and he thought he might find a good use for it. Turning lazily, he pinned Orli to the wall, and Orli gave a soft bleat as his shoulders touched the cool tiles.

"You said something last night about wanting a buggering." Sean licked a droplet of water off Orli's neck. "I distinctly remember that. I wasn't that drunk."

"I don't bottom," Orli breathed. "Except for Viggo."

"And except for me." Sean leaned in and bit Orli's lip, and when he drew back Orli's eyes were glittering, his breath coming fast.

"Viggo had to make me." Sean could feel Orli's cock nudging his.

"I can make you," he promised softly. "If you want it."

Orli licked his lips; his water-beaded lashes closed and opened flirtatiously, taunting Sean. "I won't go down easy."

"That suits me." Sean's hands closed on Orli's shoulders and he leaned in, nuzzling at Orli's mouth; Orli met him warily, kissing with caution, and Sean melted against him, relaxed, nudging his thigh against Orli's cock.

It took several minutes of kissing before he had Orli where he wanted him, starting to moan and forget his peril. Sean smiled into the kiss, stroking his palms up Orli's soap-slick arms, and pulled Orli away from the wall. Orli's muscles tightened, but it was too late; Sean had his arms, lifting him till his feet lost their purchase on the porcelain. Orli squirmed and shrieked, but Sean ignored him, pushing him back into the corner of the narrow tub, getting Orli's shoulder against the wall and using his own body for leverage, sliding behind Orlando while keeping him pinned until he had Orli's chest against the back of the stall.

Orli wriggled, struggling hard, and Sean scrabbled for the bar of soap in the tray towards the center of the tub, slicking his cock with a few rapid strokes before dropping it and letting it slither away. "Yeah," he growled. "Fight. I like it." He pressed his hips forwards, sliding his cock against Orli's arse, and Orli wailed, scrabbling at the wall.

Sean grunted and hitched his hips low, trying to push in without sparing a hand from containing Orlando-- he was slippery as an eel and strong as an ox, and the water and soap weren't helping.

Orli clenched and he skated off-target, cursing like a sailor. "Hold still, you cunt!" He snaked his hand around and caught Orli's balls, squeezing tight.

"Sean, FUCK, Sean," Orli choked, and Sean lined up, slamming in hard when he felt the angle turn true, letting go of Orli's balls and clutching his hip instead, driving him hard against the tiles and lifting him onto his tiptoes in one swift motion.

"Bloody bitch," Sean hissed, and he slid his hand up Orli's body, pinching his nipple hard between his nails, making Orli squirm and clench tight. "Take your fucking, you bitch." He shoved his hips up hard, ignoring the resistance of Orli's body, and caught Orli's chin, pushing it up and back till Orli bent like a bow, head tipped back over Sean's shoulder.

Sean pushed harder, ratcheting up the pressure till Orli's breath hissed between his teeth; the hot steam from the shower hazing his vision. Giving it hard was just as good as taking it; he liked it rough. God, it had been too fucking long. Too. Fucking. Long. He punctuated each thought with an upward slam of his hips, sinking his teeth into the flesh over the pulsing vein in Orli's neck.

Orli squirmed and cursed, feet floundering, kicking Sean's ankles, but Sean ignored him. He wished he could get at the shower controls, turn the heat up till it scalded, and fuck Orli with water like lava dripping over them, but he was on the wrong end of the tub and this would have to do, this punishing rhythm and the elusive tang of copper just out of reach of his tongue as he lashed Orli's bitten flesh with it, growling and hearing Orli wail, feeling his struggle to breathe.

"How did Viggo fuck you?" Sean whispered, voice harsh, and he moved his mouth to bite Orli's ear. "Did he fuck you like this?" God, if only he could have seen it! Viggo holding Orli down, pounding into him. Red haze misted his vision this time, and he shoved into Orli, as though he could push hard enough to could find the memory inside Orli, sink his teeth into it, know Viggo the same way he knew Orli, with tongue and tooth and cock.

Another pinch to Orli's nipple, and a cruel twist that made him sing soprano; a quick glance revealed Orli's cock, dusky and swollen between his thighs; he took that as a sign to go on.

"How did he do it?" he crooned in Orli's ear. "Tell me." Friction burning him raw, and his balls were coiled tight with need.

"Over a table," Orli hissed with clenched teeth. "Surprised me. Wouldn't... AH!" He shuddered as Sean moved his feet, changing the angle, and pushed deeper. "Wouldn't... God! Let me go, God Sean, again, do that againnnnn," Orli squeezed his eyes shut, something that was almost a sob hitching in his chest.

Sean pushed again, and again for good measure, and Orli's body convulsed, his breath shrieking out in a series of short, sharp yelps that made Elijah sound like a contra-bass.

Orli went limp in his arms, half slumping, clinging to the towel rack, his resistance spent, and Sean stepped back, pulling Orli with him. Mmmm, perfect-- sweet, surrendered Orli, boneless and velvet-tight. Sean took a fortifying breath and seized his lip between his teeth. Clenching his hands on Orli's hipbones, he plowed forward once, twice, half a dozen times, and then his balls imploded and he shot hard deep inside Orli as Orli mewled and whimpered for him, gasping for breath.

"You bottom for me now," Sean whispered, and leaned forward to bite Orli's neck again, where a ring of Sean's teeth marks were already printed in deep red on his throat, promising a very intriguing bruise. Orli just gurgled, and Sean pulled him upright, supporting him even though his own knees felt wobbly.

The water was starting to cool, so he rinsed them off quickly, scrubbing them clean with the harsh motel washcloth. Orli purred, looking sleepy-eyed, the very erotic, doe-like expression that drove the fans insane. Sean could get used to having it turned on him. Very used to it indeed.

Stepping them both out of the tub, he deposited Orli on the commode and toweled them both dry, scrubbing for the pleasure of watching Orli's skin dapple with the friction; after a bit the vigorous rubbing seemed to revive Orli and he took the towel, wrapping it around his hips.

Sean dried himself and then brushed his teeth and spiked his hair with his fingers, not much caring how he looked; his body felt loose and easy, well-fucked in all possible ways.

"You got your bandage wet." Orli's dark eyes were concerned.

"Not much. The tape protected it." Sean prodded it. It was damp on top and dry inside, but he decided it was a casualty, so he peeled it off and layered the gauze for another.

"The tat looks good on you," Orli smiled. "I like to suck on Elijah's tat. When yours gets well, I think I might like to suck on it, too."

Sean's skin rippled, a pleasant shiver, as he thought of other things Orli could suck. He finished rubbing ointment on his abused skin and patted the bandage in place onto it, then tore strips of tape with his teeth. Orli applied them, fingers clever, eyes interested.

"You fuckers planned this," Sean murmured, no resentment in his voice.

"Since New Zealand," Orli admitted, eyes sparkling with mischief. He tilted his head. "C'mon. Elijah's been by himself long enough."

Sean picked up a towel and followed Orli out, lazily flipping it behind him, ready to tie it around his hips, thinking about popping Orli's arse with it first; he almost missed the significance of what he saw when he glanced at the bed, but then he froze.

Elijah looked up mildly. "You guys took forever," he whined. "I had to call for backup."

Backup. Sean's brain refused to parse the sight; naked Elijah lying twined with a man-- a man in paint-spattered jeans, a man with a shock of oddly incongruous red hair, a man who was lifting his head away from Elijah's neck to look at Sean's not-yet-tied towel with interest-- while still holding Elijah, arms casually possessive.

"You could have called me last night. I made it to my room around two."

"But your flight was delayed. We didn't know when to call." Elijah sounded anxious. "We were afraid Sean would chicken out if we waited."

Orli bounced over and plopped down on the bed, beaming. "You should see the tat, Viggo. It's gorgeous."

"I bet it is." Viggo's eyes swept lazily over Sean, moving from toe to crown, and Sean felt himself crimson.

Sean's brain fluttered frantically. Was there any way on God's Earth Viggo didn't know what Orli and he had just been doing? Could he have arrived after the inhuman yowling? The ridge in his jeans and the heat in his eyes said it was absolutely not possible. Even if he had, there was the bite mark on Orli's neck: damning evidence.

"I gather you bottom for Sean now." Viggo slid a lazy hand around Orli's back and caressed down his spine, winding up by savoring the curve of his ass.

Orli just squirmed lasciviously against Viggo, his towel abandoned. "He's a hell of a fuck." He looked as proud as if he'd delivered the fuck himself, the little bastard.

Sean took a deep breath, aware of how ridiculous he looked, knowing he lost face every second he dithered. He fixed Viggo's lazy blue stare with his own. "So, do you bottom for me, too?"

"I don't know." Viggo's eyes narrowed, and the temperature in the room shot up at least ten degrees, even though the air conditioner was set to fifty. "Let's order room service so the boys can eat while we find out."

Sean thought that was a fine idea.

-finis-

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