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Smolder
by Vivi

His cigarettes were crumpled beneath a shoe, badly enough
to make half the pack unsmokable, and he had to brush clinging shreds of tobacco
from one of the salvageable ones. His lighter was easier, still waiting
obediently in the pocket of his pants and Sean settled back into the bed before
he lit it, inhaling that one perfect breath of smoke, that first one, before the
taste deadened on his tongue.
Orlando was watching him with dark amusement in his eyes, running his fingertips
leisurely over his own bottom lip. "Lemme have one."
"I thought you quit smoking."
At Orlando's look, Sean silently handed him the cigarette and watched the tip
glow cherry-red as he took a drag. He waved it away when Orlando tried to hand
it back, for some reason always disgusted at the thought of someone else's
saliva clinging soggily to the filter. Impractical little quirk, when one
considered what else he'd had in his mouth that day, but you can't control your
own dislikes.
He exhaled the smoke slowly, savoring it, and his expression was like one he'd
want on his face just after an orgasm. Wanted, and didn't have, but the damp,
pained expression of his reality was almost as good. They both watched the
cigarette burn slowly down and then Orli said, his voice lazily suggestive
"Why don't you let me fuck you for a change?"
Sean didn't answer, just watched Orlando frown as he took a last puff off the
cigarette before leaning over Sean to crush it out on the small ashtray on the
side table. He didn't move back, mostly draped over Sean as he rubbed his face
into Sean's shoulder, moving slowly downward.
Smoke tainted breath at the small of his back just before Orli ran his tongue
into the crease of his arse and wriggled it obscenely. Sean batted him away,
harder than he'd meant to and Orli wobbled for a moment on the edge of the bed
before he caught his balance.
His glare was more sulky than truly angry and he flopped back on the bed with a
sharp huff. "You're still pining for him, aren't you?" Orlando
accused, faintly amused. "He dumped you months ago, get over it
already."
"He didn't dump me."
"Yeah? So your little separation has nothing to do with the fact you can't
keep it in your pants." Sean ignored the jibe, tamped down his smoldering
temper. Orlando simply knew how to push his buttons and silence was the only
appropriate punishment for that.
Orlando sighed in predictable annoyance. "Look, don't be so melodramatic
about it. He knew it would happen. You knew it would happen. He probably even
made it worse; showed you that blokes are good for a fuck too. It's not your
fault he couldn't deal."
Again, nothing to say, and Sean wished suddenly that Orlando would shut the fuck
up and stay out of it for once in his fucking little bastard life, and stop
carelessly hitting the on button in his brain so the gears would finally stop
turning and he could stop thinking about it all the fucking time. Might have
been easier if he'd just tossed him out on his arse afterward, but the times
Orlando was quiet usually made up for the times he wasn't.
Like now, persistent little fucker that he was. "So what are you going to
do? Save your arse for him the rest of your life in case he changes his
mind?"
"If I let you fuck me, will you shut the hell up?" He regretted it the
moment he said it, even if Orlando had been more than half right, he was still a
little less than half wrong.
Orlando's eyes lit up instantly though, and there was no calling the words back.
"Anything for you, luv."
It was almost easy to let Orlando arrange him on his knees, wrapping his arms
around one of the pillows and holding it when slick, too-hot fingers pushed
inside him. Maybe Orlando was bigger than he was used to, maybe he was too
tense, maybe months had tightened all the works up again, like renewed
virginity. Either way, it bloody well fucking hurt, and nothing Orlando said or
did made it easier, all the proper little top gestures, all the preparation was
a useless little sideshow to the main event.
Long, slick glides inside him felt as raw as sandpaper and Orlando was true to
his word, silent as a ghost and Sean imagined for a moment it --was- a ghost,
someone else's ghost fucking him slowly and deeply, but only dead people had
ghosts and the death of a relationship didn't count.
The thought was as fragile as a soap bubble and the faintest sound from Orlando,
hardly more than a sharp inhalation, ruined it and slapped him back into the
reality of it all, the harsh stretch that refused to let up and he'd be hurting
later, he knew, singed by friction no matter how much lube they'd used.
Worse was that it was still good, his cock still stiffened up happily and when
Orlando dropped a hand down and started jerking him off, he came just like he
was supposed to, right on schedule. Not hard, not like he had earlier but a
shitty orgasm was still bloody fantastic and he went with it, felt it when
Orlando shuddered and came, the sudden spill of liquid warmth into latex inside
him.
Orlando sighed deeply when he pulled out, left Sean on his knees while he stood
and stretched. "Not too bad, but if this is as good as you get, I can see
why Viggo dumped you."
"If you're going to keep talking, then just get the fuck out,
Orlando," he said wearily, finally rising to the bait and the soft laughter
he got from it grated viciously across his already raw nerves.
"Not a chance. Maybe you're better a second time."
I could hate you so easily. It wasn't a new thought, but when Orlando
curled up next to him on the bed, Sean stayed silent and wished he'd finished
smoking his cigarette.
-finis-

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