Life in a Northern Town X
Title : Life in a Northern Town X
Author : dalehead
Pairing : Orlibean
Rating : R
Summary: This is Thatcher’s Britain - nuff said. Oh and clearly this is all made up by me for you.
A/N : For anyone who still wants to read this! Is there anyone there?
“‘Lando … ‘Lando...” Sean slammed the door shut in his excitement.
“Upstairs,” Orlando was lying down. Orland was doing a lot of lying down these days. He had cleaned for six hours today and his back was stiff.
“Have you done your exercises,” Sean stuck his head around the bedroom door.
“Yes and have you taken your boots off?”
“Yes sir,” Sean grinned and came in perch on the edge of the bed. “There’s a bloke at work, he’s a bit of a knob, works in personnel but his wife’s not well and they’re looking for a housekeeper, well cleaner who does the shopping. He’ll pay you your rate and he’s offering you fifteen hours a week, well you’ll have to go and see them but best of all, he said you can use the car as long as you pay for the insurance and put petrol in the car. What do you think of that?”
“Oh my God, Sean, really? Fifteen hours will take me...” he begin to work it out, frantically counting in his head and on his fingers. “Wow, that’s about forty hours a week, that’s around a hundred and fifty quid a week.”
“Fucking hell...”
“What about you? Any news?”
“Nah, but there’s no reason to think I’m going to get the sack just yet, they even offered a bit of overtime. I didn’t get it, the blokes with families...” he looked anxiously at Orlando. “With kids I mean.”
“Hey that’s okay, I get it. Stop looking so worried.”
“You look tired,” Sean was trying not to appear overly anxious. He was aware he fussed like a mother hen.
“I’m not too bad, my back is okay, a bit stiff.” He held his hand out. “C’mere...”
Sean looked down at himself. “‘Lando, I haven’t washed.”
“I know, that’s how I want you, remember our first time? You fucked me over my desk.” Orlando looked smug. “You couldn’t wait to put me in my place, young southern upstart.”
“I did not think any such thing,” Sean was stripping off, giving Orlando, it must be said, a bit of a show. “You were the one who thought I was a great big unreconstructed lummox who didn’t know how to treat a southern softy like you.”
Orlando laid back, spread his legs and frowned. “Actually, I think that might be true but in any case, just get that cute butt over here and fuck me hard, well not too hard,” he added hastily.
“When have I ever fucked you too hard,” Sean asked, reaching for lube. “You know,” he said conversationally as he slid his fingers into Orlando’s tight hole. “We ought to think about spending some money on the house, if you think we can afford it.”
Orlando gasped. “Mmmm... that’s a good idea,” he relaxed his body, sighing with pleasure. “God that’s lovely, do it some more.”
“I was going to …” Sean laughed. “But I was thinking, new carpet perhaps? Or a new kitchen?”
“Both? I want both.”
“Greedy...” Sean slid another finger into Orlando’s body. “Christ, you feel good.”
“Mmmm, so do you … now kiss me, touch me, I want you to touch me everywhere. They’re having a sale in that funny little kitchen shop, let’s go and look, once I know I’ve got the job with knobhead I mean.”
“Which shop,” Sean touched Orlando’s cock, teasing touches. “Oh hang on, I know the one you mean.”
“Touch me more, do it properly, and my balls, touch them the way I like, stop teasing or I won’t come.” One of Orlando’s most annoying party tricks was to withhold his orgasm, it drove Sean mad.
Sean duly obliged, it was never a hardship to make love to Orlando who was the most responsive lover he’d ever had, always enjoying everything they did, never angsting about it, going with the flow. He made Sean incredibly happy.
“I’d love central heating,” Orlando was speaking in little gasps. “Wouldn’t it be great not to worry about hot water? To come home to a warm house?”
“We can’t afford it ‘Lando and it makes the air so dry,” Sean leaned over so he could mouth gentle kisses on Orlando’s warm skin.
“Nnnngh... Fuck me and stop mithering...”
Sean smiled at this, but duly obliged, replacing his fingers with his cock, moving slowly, smoothly, filling Orlando till he moaned loud and deep. He wasn’t thinking about central heating, nor yet a new kitchen now, all his senses were filled with Sean, Sean’s love surrounding him, making him feel like the most precious, loved human being in the world.
They came one after the other, Sean collapsing onto Orlando, Orlando’s arms wrapped around him, holding him close. They would’ve stayed there for longer had there not been a familiar knock of the door.
“Yoo hoo...”
“Oh god, it’s mam,” Sean groaned, reluctantly getting up. “Hang on mam,” he called. Luckily Mrs B never ventured upstairs if they were both there, she’d caught them once and none of them had ever recovered.
“I’ll put the kettle on,” she shouted. “I’ve got some rock cakes too.”
“I’m getting up,” Orlando got up carefully.
“I didn’t hurt you did I?
“No, you daft ha’poth, but I need to get some clothes on.”
“Well yeah,” Sean grinned, he pulled his work gear on and clattered down the stairs.
“You look pleased with yourself,” Mrs B remarked, sniffing. “You smell like the inside of a jockey’s shorts, get in the tub with you, I’ll make the tea.”
“Hiya Mrs B.” Orlando came in. “We haven’t had our dinner yet, let alone tea.”
“What on earth have you been doing.” there might have been an acerbic note in Mrs B’s voice. “No, don’t tell me, just get going, Sean needs to eat, big strong lad like that...”
“And he’ll get it.” Sometimes Orlando wished Sean’s mother would bugger off, not often, just occasionally. “Go on love, get in the bath, we aren’t going to have an argument are we Mrs B?”
“No, we’re not, son, so go clean up there’s a good lad.”
Sean gave it up. “I won’t be long,” his smile was for Orlando alone.
“One day,” Mrs B waited for Sean to head off to the bathroom and shut the door. “You two will be married and I for one will be very pleased, then maybe you’ll stop behaving like a pair of love birds.” She sniffed again. There was nothing wrong with love, as long as love stayed in its place and before tea was most certainly not its place.
Orlando could almost hear the unspoken thoughts. “So what brings you around here Mrs B?”
“I heard the news of course.”
“What news.”
“About that fancy young couple who want you to clean for them. I heard she’s not well, cancer or something similar. She was born in Hull and apparently wanted to come home to die.”
“Mam, she hasn’t got cancer at all, God, I hope you’re not spreading rumours.” Sean picked up his towel.
“I thought you were in the bath.”
“Mam, she had a miscarriage and then a bit of a breakdown, you can’t go around spreading gossip, okay?”
“Excuse me young man, I most certainly am not spreading gossip. Betty Hampsthwaite told me this morning, I bumped into her at the butchers, she got it from Jean Romford.”
“Well Jean got it wrong.” Sean took his towel and retreated to the bathroom.
“I haven’t got the job yet Mrs B, I am going to fix up a time to go and meet them, look at the house. They say I can have the use of the car, did Sean tell you?”
“Yes he did.” Mrs B’s smile lit up the room. “I couldn’t be more pleased for you chicken, you deserve a bit of good luck, you and our Sean.”
“Lots of people deserve better than they’re getting at the moment thought,” Orlando bit his lip and sighed. “Will it ever get better? Will we ever have enough money that we don’t have to worry about having the water on for too long? Or am I asking too much?” For once Orlando didn’t try and hide his worry and fears.
“Now then, of course it will get better, good heavens, you’ve been a tower of strength the past few months, don’t let it all get on top of you now.”
Orlando sighed. “I’m so tired Mrs B, my back aches almost all of the time and sometimes I can’t bear the thought of getting out of bed and cleaning up other folks’ mess. It gets me down, I wanted to do finance, I was going to do an evening class, try and get some more qualifications, instead of which, I’m on the scrapheap and I’m barely 30.”
“Nonsense. You’ve got this house, Sean and your health. I know your back’s bad at the moment,” Mrs B was trying to be upbeat. “But these bad times won’t last forever.” She paused looking troubled. “Are you wanting to move back to London? Is that it?”
“Fuck no.”
“Language Orlando,” but there was no barb in Mrs B’s voice.
“I love living here, I love the way you and the family have accepted me, we have friends here, the only reason we don’t see them is none of us have the money.” There had been a time when Sean and Orlando had friends around to dinner, went out a lot, even took the occasional holiday. “Remember life before Thatcher came to the throne.”
“Language ‘Lando,” Sean appeared wrapped in a towel. “Don’t mention that woman’s name in here.”
He kissed the top of Orlando’s head.
“Goodness me, and I’ve still the tea to make.” Mrs B begun to bustle. Sean went upstairs to towel off and get dressed. Orlando stayed put. It was better not to get in the way of Mrs B and her tea.
“I’ll phone up tomorrow, arrange to meet, they live in Dore, which makes sense but...” he sighed, wished he could find something less strenuous. “We’ll see I guess.”
“It’s all going to work out,” Mrs Bean spoke soothingly. “You’ll see, and maybe this is just the beginning. Maybe your luck has turned.”
“Who are you trying to convince?” But Orlando was smiling again. “Me or you?”
“Both of us.”
~~
A couple of days later, Orlando stood outside the gate of Nina and Anthony Langdale’s new home. The bungalow was quite big but not huge. At least three bedrooms he guessed. There was a car parked ouside and room on the drive for another. The garden was well kept and there was work going on. The paths were being widened.
Stepping over the bags of cement and various other building materials, Orlando arrived at the front door willing his butterflies to keep still. He rung the bell...
“Come in,” a voice shouted. “The door’s unlocked, I’m in the back.”
Another deep breath and Orlando opened the door. The hall was spacious, he could see the kitchen, work was going on in there too and the light streamed in from the room next to it. He could smell paint and turps.
“In here.” he followed the sound of the voice. “I can’t stop now, I’m on a roll, any interruption could be fatal.”
Walking into the room, he saw a woman with the reddest hair he’d ever seen in his life. She was sitting in front of a canvas, the canvas was covered in bright splodges of colour that just spoke to Orlando.
“Oh …” he gasped. “It looks like...”
“Like?” The woman looked at him, frowning.
“Like pain, like the most painful vivid pain.”
She clapped her hands. “Yes that’s it, exactly it, it’s the pain of losing my baby,” she held her hand out. “I’m Nina, sorry I can’t get up.”
It was only then Orlando realised she was in a wheelchair.
“Oh...” he took her hand, shook it.
It was her turn to gasp. “Oh my god, I don’t believe it, you’re Orlando Bloom aren’t you?
(TBC)
Author : dalehead
Pairing : Orlibean
Rating : R
Summary: This is Thatcher’s Britain - nuff said. Oh and clearly this is all made up by me for you.
A/N : For anyone who still wants to read this! Is there anyone there?
“‘Lando … ‘Lando...” Sean slammed the door shut in his excitement.
“Upstairs,” Orlando was lying down. Orland was doing a lot of lying down these days. He had cleaned for six hours today and his back was stiff.
“Have you done your exercises,” Sean stuck his head around the bedroom door.
“Yes and have you taken your boots off?”
“Yes sir,” Sean grinned and came in perch on the edge of the bed. “There’s a bloke at work, he’s a bit of a knob, works in personnel but his wife’s not well and they’re looking for a housekeeper, well cleaner who does the shopping. He’ll pay you your rate and he’s offering you fifteen hours a week, well you’ll have to go and see them but best of all, he said you can use the car as long as you pay for the insurance and put petrol in the car. What do you think of that?”
“Oh my God, Sean, really? Fifteen hours will take me...” he begin to work it out, frantically counting in his head and on his fingers. “Wow, that’s about forty hours a week, that’s around a hundred and fifty quid a week.”
“Fucking hell...”
“What about you? Any news?”
“Nah, but there’s no reason to think I’m going to get the sack just yet, they even offered a bit of overtime. I didn’t get it, the blokes with families...” he looked anxiously at Orlando. “With kids I mean.”
“Hey that’s okay, I get it. Stop looking so worried.”
“You look tired,” Sean was trying not to appear overly anxious. He was aware he fussed like a mother hen.
“I’m not too bad, my back is okay, a bit stiff.” He held his hand out. “C’mere...”
Sean looked down at himself. “‘Lando, I haven’t washed.”
“I know, that’s how I want you, remember our first time? You fucked me over my desk.” Orlando looked smug. “You couldn’t wait to put me in my place, young southern upstart.”
“I did not think any such thing,” Sean was stripping off, giving Orlando, it must be said, a bit of a show. “You were the one who thought I was a great big unreconstructed lummox who didn’t know how to treat a southern softy like you.”
Orlando laid back, spread his legs and frowned. “Actually, I think that might be true but in any case, just get that cute butt over here and fuck me hard, well not too hard,” he added hastily.
“When have I ever fucked you too hard,” Sean asked, reaching for lube. “You know,” he said conversationally as he slid his fingers into Orlando’s tight hole. “We ought to think about spending some money on the house, if you think we can afford it.”
Orlando gasped. “Mmmm... that’s a good idea,” he relaxed his body, sighing with pleasure. “God that’s lovely, do it some more.”
“I was going to …” Sean laughed. “But I was thinking, new carpet perhaps? Or a new kitchen?”
“Both? I want both.”
“Greedy...” Sean slid another finger into Orlando’s body. “Christ, you feel good.”
“Mmmm, so do you … now kiss me, touch me, I want you to touch me everywhere. They’re having a sale in that funny little kitchen shop, let’s go and look, once I know I’ve got the job with knobhead I mean.”
“Which shop,” Sean touched Orlando’s cock, teasing touches. “Oh hang on, I know the one you mean.”
“Touch me more, do it properly, and my balls, touch them the way I like, stop teasing or I won’t come.” One of Orlando’s most annoying party tricks was to withhold his orgasm, it drove Sean mad.
Sean duly obliged, it was never a hardship to make love to Orlando who was the most responsive lover he’d ever had, always enjoying everything they did, never angsting about it, going with the flow. He made Sean incredibly happy.
“I’d love central heating,” Orlando was speaking in little gasps. “Wouldn’t it be great not to worry about hot water? To come home to a warm house?”
“We can’t afford it ‘Lando and it makes the air so dry,” Sean leaned over so he could mouth gentle kisses on Orlando’s warm skin.
“Nnnngh... Fuck me and stop mithering...”
Sean smiled at this, but duly obliged, replacing his fingers with his cock, moving slowly, smoothly, filling Orlando till he moaned loud and deep. He wasn’t thinking about central heating, nor yet a new kitchen now, all his senses were filled with Sean, Sean’s love surrounding him, making him feel like the most precious, loved human being in the world.
They came one after the other, Sean collapsing onto Orlando, Orlando’s arms wrapped around him, holding him close. They would’ve stayed there for longer had there not been a familiar knock of the door.
“Yoo hoo...”
“Oh god, it’s mam,” Sean groaned, reluctantly getting up. “Hang on mam,” he called. Luckily Mrs B never ventured upstairs if they were both there, she’d caught them once and none of them had ever recovered.
“I’ll put the kettle on,” she shouted. “I’ve got some rock cakes too.”
“I’m getting up,” Orlando got up carefully.
“I didn’t hurt you did I?
“No, you daft ha’poth, but I need to get some clothes on.”
“Well yeah,” Sean grinned, he pulled his work gear on and clattered down the stairs.
“You look pleased with yourself,” Mrs B remarked, sniffing. “You smell like the inside of a jockey’s shorts, get in the tub with you, I’ll make the tea.”
“Hiya Mrs B.” Orlando came in. “We haven’t had our dinner yet, let alone tea.”
“What on earth have you been doing.” there might have been an acerbic note in Mrs B’s voice. “No, don’t tell me, just get going, Sean needs to eat, big strong lad like that...”
“And he’ll get it.” Sometimes Orlando wished Sean’s mother would bugger off, not often, just occasionally. “Go on love, get in the bath, we aren’t going to have an argument are we Mrs B?”
“No, we’re not, son, so go clean up there’s a good lad.”
Sean gave it up. “I won’t be long,” his smile was for Orlando alone.
“One day,” Mrs B waited for Sean to head off to the bathroom and shut the door. “You two will be married and I for one will be very pleased, then maybe you’ll stop behaving like a pair of love birds.” She sniffed again. There was nothing wrong with love, as long as love stayed in its place and before tea was most certainly not its place.
Orlando could almost hear the unspoken thoughts. “So what brings you around here Mrs B?”
“I heard the news of course.”
“What news.”
“About that fancy young couple who want you to clean for them. I heard she’s not well, cancer or something similar. She was born in Hull and apparently wanted to come home to die.”
“Mam, she hasn’t got cancer at all, God, I hope you’re not spreading rumours.” Sean picked up his towel.
“I thought you were in the bath.”
“Mam, she had a miscarriage and then a bit of a breakdown, you can’t go around spreading gossip, okay?”
“Excuse me young man, I most certainly am not spreading gossip. Betty Hampsthwaite told me this morning, I bumped into her at the butchers, she got it from Jean Romford.”
“Well Jean got it wrong.” Sean took his towel and retreated to the bathroom.
“I haven’t got the job yet Mrs B, I am going to fix up a time to go and meet them, look at the house. They say I can have the use of the car, did Sean tell you?”
“Yes he did.” Mrs B’s smile lit up the room. “I couldn’t be more pleased for you chicken, you deserve a bit of good luck, you and our Sean.”
“Lots of people deserve better than they’re getting at the moment thought,” Orlando bit his lip and sighed. “Will it ever get better? Will we ever have enough money that we don’t have to worry about having the water on for too long? Or am I asking too much?” For once Orlando didn’t try and hide his worry and fears.
“Now then, of course it will get better, good heavens, you’ve been a tower of strength the past few months, don’t let it all get on top of you now.”
Orlando sighed. “I’m so tired Mrs B, my back aches almost all of the time and sometimes I can’t bear the thought of getting out of bed and cleaning up other folks’ mess. It gets me down, I wanted to do finance, I was going to do an evening class, try and get some more qualifications, instead of which, I’m on the scrapheap and I’m barely 30.”
“Nonsense. You’ve got this house, Sean and your health. I know your back’s bad at the moment,” Mrs B was trying to be upbeat. “But these bad times won’t last forever.” She paused looking troubled. “Are you wanting to move back to London? Is that it?”
“Fuck no.”
“Language Orlando,” but there was no barb in Mrs B’s voice.
“I love living here, I love the way you and the family have accepted me, we have friends here, the only reason we don’t see them is none of us have the money.” There had been a time when Sean and Orlando had friends around to dinner, went out a lot, even took the occasional holiday. “Remember life before Thatcher came to the throne.”
“Language ‘Lando,” Sean appeared wrapped in a towel. “Don’t mention that woman’s name in here.”
He kissed the top of Orlando’s head.
“Goodness me, and I’ve still the tea to make.” Mrs B begun to bustle. Sean went upstairs to towel off and get dressed. Orlando stayed put. It was better not to get in the way of Mrs B and her tea.
“I’ll phone up tomorrow, arrange to meet, they live in Dore, which makes sense but...” he sighed, wished he could find something less strenuous. “We’ll see I guess.”
“It’s all going to work out,” Mrs Bean spoke soothingly. “You’ll see, and maybe this is just the beginning. Maybe your luck has turned.”
“Who are you trying to convince?” But Orlando was smiling again. “Me or you?”
“Both of us.”
~~
A couple of days later, Orlando stood outside the gate of Nina and Anthony Langdale’s new home. The bungalow was quite big but not huge. At least three bedrooms he guessed. There was a car parked ouside and room on the drive for another. The garden was well kept and there was work going on. The paths were being widened.
Stepping over the bags of cement and various other building materials, Orlando arrived at the front door willing his butterflies to keep still. He rung the bell...
“Come in,” a voice shouted. “The door’s unlocked, I’m in the back.”
Another deep breath and Orlando opened the door. The hall was spacious, he could see the kitchen, work was going on in there too and the light streamed in from the room next to it. He could smell paint and turps.
“In here.” he followed the sound of the voice. “I can’t stop now, I’m on a roll, any interruption could be fatal.”
Walking into the room, he saw a woman with the reddest hair he’d ever seen in his life. She was sitting in front of a canvas, the canvas was covered in bright splodges of colour that just spoke to Orlando.
“Oh …” he gasped. “It looks like...”
“Like?” The woman looked at him, frowning.
“Like pain, like the most painful vivid pain.”
She clapped her hands. “Yes that’s it, exactly it, it’s the pain of losing my baby,” she held her hand out. “I’m Nina, sorry I can’t get up.”
It was only then Orlando realised she was in a wheelchair.
“Oh...” he took her hand, shook it.
It was her turn to gasp. “Oh my god, I don’t believe it, you’re Orlando Bloom aren’t you?
(TBC)