On the Other Foot - part 1
Title : On the other Foot 1/2
Author : dalehead
Pairing : Orlibean
Rating : NC-17 - references to BDSM under the cut
Summary: Sometimes the shoe is on the other foot
A/N : To my lovely Orlibean girls who make me feel like the world is not such a bad place - thank you laydeez!
It was late.
It was later.
It was so late that Sean got on the phone and called every one of Orlando’s friends he could think of.
The he waited. And waited.
And waited a bit more.
Finally at around 3.45 in the morning, a key turned in the door.
“Whoops …” Sean heard the sound of a lithe young man hitting the deck. He hurried downstairs to find Orlando laying on the kitchen floor giggling. With thinning lips, Sean went to him.
“Hey baby,” he said blinking myopically. “Got a leetle drunk…” he smiled sweetly and made no effort to move.
“So I see…” Sean hoisted him up as if he weighed no more than one of his daughters.
“Whoops-a-daisy…” Orlando felt himself lifted into Sean’s arms. “Oh dear …” he said.
“Don’t even think about being…” too late. Orlando heaved all over Sean and the floor and still Sean carried his lover and Master upstairs.
Stripped and put under a warm shower, Orlando was still too drunk to really think about what just happened. He was trying to sing and failing miserably.
If I had a little house, it would be as small as small… he droned to himself.
“What the fuck?” Sean rolled his eyes.
“Peter Pan…” Orlando muttered. “Second to the right then straight on till morning…” and then he was asleep, even as Sean was washing the vomit off him.
Finally Sean got everything cleared up and at about 5.30; he managed to get into bed with Orlando who was snoring loudly.
~~
Coming to a few hours later, Orlando was convinced he was going to die. He groaned loudly and his own voice made his head pound.
“Dying…” there was no reaction. Orlando realised he was in bed alone. He half sat up. There on the nightstand was a glass of water and three ibuprofen. Reaching out for the tabs, he took them and drunk down his water. Then he sat up a bit. The action made him groan.
“Definitely dying…”
Something caught his eye and there, much to his surprise, was Sean. His boy was kneeling by the side of the bed, forehead to the floor.
“What the fuck….” He tried to sit up straight and failed. “What are you doing down there, baby?” he asked, sounding puzzled.
“As part of your boy’s punishment and in order to earn his collar back, Master said his boy needed to be kneeling by the bed, every morning,” Sean was stiff; he’d been like this for hours.
“But … your Master was drunk as a skunk …” Orlando had slipped up, this he knew.
“Master didn’t say his boy should stay in bed,” Sean kept the reproach out of his voice. But inside he was burning with anger. He never disobeyed a direct order, implicit obedience was expected of him and always, always he gave his Master that obedience. But his Master had forgotten him. His Master had been so drunk that he’d forgotten his boy would be kneeling from 7am. It was now around 10.30 and Sean ached. All over.
“Yes I know, but Sean I was drunk, god, I don’t do this very often. I went for a drink with some friends, you could have come, you know you could…”
He paused. “Get up off the floor and get into bed, you must be freezing,” he sounded impatient but his chest twisted when he saw how stiff Sean was. “Baby…” he murmured.
“No not baby,” Sean staggered to the bed and got under the covers. He was freezing. “I have been there for nearly four hours and it was your responsibility to remember what you told me.”
“But Sean, I was fucking pissed or didn’t you notice?”
“Oh course I did, I bloody well carried you up the stairs and washed the puke off you and the floor.”
Orlando was tired. “So where does this leave us Sean? I fucked up? You are pissed off? I am not giving you your collar back because I fucked up. You are excused kneeling for the rest of the week,”
Sean growled. “That isn’t the point, you fucked up but I’m …” he ground to a halt. “It just made me feel like shit Orlando,” he hated arguing but he felt his point needed making. “I knew you wouldn’t wake up in time but I’m your boy, your slave, you slept through your alarm and I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know whether to wake you or go back to bed.”
Scooting over, Orlando took his love into his arms and even though his breath was like the bottom of a budgie cage, Sean kissed him.
“Baby, I have been doing this since I was 17 years old and I have never slept through an alarm when I had a kneeling slave waiting for me and I have no excuse but Sean, I’m a normal bloke, I have feet of clay and I do fuck up, yeah?”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, I should have gone back to bed. It was just … I want to get this right, I always want to and somehow if I hadn’t knelt I feel like I would have been a bad slave.”
“Well you’re not and you are getting closer to getting your collar back,” Orlando felt as sick as a dog.
“Do you still feel bad?” Sean asked anxiously.
“Like shite,” Orlando replied.
“Well good,” Sean wriggled out of his lover’s grasp. “I’m gonna get showered and then I’ll make you a bacon sarnie,” he grinned as Orlando groaned. “You know it’ll do you good.”
“I’m a vegetarian,” Orlando protested but there was a little smile on his face.
“Yeah right and I support Leeds Utd…”
~~
Sean was in the shower whistling and Orlando was dead to the world. He would wake up in a couple more hours hungry as a horse but now all was if not right with the world, a lot better than it had been. And there was still a little smile on Orlando’s face.
Author : dalehead
Pairing : Orlibean
Rating : NC-17 - references to BDSM under the cut
Summary: Sometimes the shoe is on the other foot
A/N : To my lovely Orlibean girls who make me feel like the world is not such a bad place - thank you laydeez!
It was late.
It was later.
It was so late that Sean got on the phone and called every one of Orlando’s friends he could think of.
The he waited. And waited.
And waited a bit more.
Finally at around 3.45 in the morning, a key turned in the door.
“Whoops …” Sean heard the sound of a lithe young man hitting the deck. He hurried downstairs to find Orlando laying on the kitchen floor giggling. With thinning lips, Sean went to him.
“Hey baby,” he said blinking myopically. “Got a leetle drunk…” he smiled sweetly and made no effort to move.
“So I see…” Sean hoisted him up as if he weighed no more than one of his daughters.
“Whoops-a-daisy…” Orlando felt himself lifted into Sean’s arms. “Oh dear …” he said.
“Don’t even think about being…” too late. Orlando heaved all over Sean and the floor and still Sean carried his lover and Master upstairs.
Stripped and put under a warm shower, Orlando was still too drunk to really think about what just happened. He was trying to sing and failing miserably.
If I had a little house, it would be as small as small… he droned to himself.
“What the fuck?” Sean rolled his eyes.
“Peter Pan…” Orlando muttered. “Second to the right then straight on till morning…” and then he was asleep, even as Sean was washing the vomit off him.
Finally Sean got everything cleared up and at about 5.30; he managed to get into bed with Orlando who was snoring loudly.
~~
Coming to a few hours later, Orlando was convinced he was going to die. He groaned loudly and his own voice made his head pound.
“Dying…” there was no reaction. Orlando realised he was in bed alone. He half sat up. There on the nightstand was a glass of water and three ibuprofen. Reaching out for the tabs, he took them and drunk down his water. Then he sat up a bit. The action made him groan.
“Definitely dying…”
Something caught his eye and there, much to his surprise, was Sean. His boy was kneeling by the side of the bed, forehead to the floor.
“What the fuck….” He tried to sit up straight and failed. “What are you doing down there, baby?” he asked, sounding puzzled.
“As part of your boy’s punishment and in order to earn his collar back, Master said his boy needed to be kneeling by the bed, every morning,” Sean was stiff; he’d been like this for hours.
“But … your Master was drunk as a skunk …” Orlando had slipped up, this he knew.
“Master didn’t say his boy should stay in bed,” Sean kept the reproach out of his voice. But inside he was burning with anger. He never disobeyed a direct order, implicit obedience was expected of him and always, always he gave his Master that obedience. But his Master had forgotten him. His Master had been so drunk that he’d forgotten his boy would be kneeling from 7am. It was now around 10.30 and Sean ached. All over.
“Yes I know, but Sean I was drunk, god, I don’t do this very often. I went for a drink with some friends, you could have come, you know you could…”
He paused. “Get up off the floor and get into bed, you must be freezing,” he sounded impatient but his chest twisted when he saw how stiff Sean was. “Baby…” he murmured.
“No not baby,” Sean staggered to the bed and got under the covers. He was freezing. “I have been there for nearly four hours and it was your responsibility to remember what you told me.”
“But Sean, I was fucking pissed or didn’t you notice?”
“Oh course I did, I bloody well carried you up the stairs and washed the puke off you and the floor.”
Orlando was tired. “So where does this leave us Sean? I fucked up? You are pissed off? I am not giving you your collar back because I fucked up. You are excused kneeling for the rest of the week,”
Sean growled. “That isn’t the point, you fucked up but I’m …” he ground to a halt. “It just made me feel like shit Orlando,” he hated arguing but he felt his point needed making. “I knew you wouldn’t wake up in time but I’m your boy, your slave, you slept through your alarm and I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know whether to wake you or go back to bed.”
Scooting over, Orlando took his love into his arms and even though his breath was like the bottom of a budgie cage, Sean kissed him.
“Baby, I have been doing this since I was 17 years old and I have never slept through an alarm when I had a kneeling slave waiting for me and I have no excuse but Sean, I’m a normal bloke, I have feet of clay and I do fuck up, yeah?”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, I should have gone back to bed. It was just … I want to get this right, I always want to and somehow if I hadn’t knelt I feel like I would have been a bad slave.”
“Well you’re not and you are getting closer to getting your collar back,” Orlando felt as sick as a dog.
“Do you still feel bad?” Sean asked anxiously.
“Like shite,” Orlando replied.
“Well good,” Sean wriggled out of his lover’s grasp. “I’m gonna get showered and then I’ll make you a bacon sarnie,” he grinned as Orlando groaned. “You know it’ll do you good.”
“I’m a vegetarian,” Orlando protested but there was a little smile on his face.
“Yeah right and I support Leeds Utd…”
~~
Sean was in the shower whistling and Orlando was dead to the world. He would wake up in a couple more hours hungry as a horse but now all was if not right with the world, a lot better than it had been. And there was still a little smile on Orlando’s face.