[Orlijah AU] Parochial - (3/3)
Title: Parochial (3/3)
Author: deleerium
Status: Complete
Type: LOTR RPS AU (catholic school boys - modern, USA, takes place in some nameless big city in the south)
Rating: G - PG 15 ish?
Prompt: 22 - “school boys” for orlijah_month
When mid-terms came around, it only took Orlando one afternoon of trying to study at his house with Elijah to decide that the library would be a better choice.
Much less fun, but still - better. At least he kept more of his clothes on.
“This sucks,” said Elijah, muttering out of the corner of his mouth, his head propped on his hand as he stared with listless disinterest at his history book. The library was deserted this time of day, the long table they shared tucked away in the reference section.
Orlando looked up and nudged Elijah’s foot with his own. “At least we’re actually studying,” he said, keeping his voice down, but he was smiling as he returned to reviewing his notes.
“Hm,” said Elijah, idly turning a page. “I think I learned more yesterday.”
“I doubt it.” Orlando resisted the urge to look up.
Elijah crossed his arms over the book, dropped his chin on top of them and stared at Orlando. “I learned that you stop breathing entirely right before you’re about to come,” he said, his eyes glittering.
Orlando looked up so fast he dropped his pen and banged his knee on the table leg. “Shh,” he hissed, his face flooding with color as he retrieved his pen.
“What?” Elijah raised both eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure you learned a lot of stuff yesterday, too.”
“No, I…don’t say stuff like…shut up,” said Orlando, ducking his head and frowning, even as his cheeks continued to burn. “You’re so-” he broke off with an inarticulate sound and flipped over his notebook, his pen scratching furiously across the paper.
Elijah slid a hand across the table and ghosted his fingers over Orlando’s wrist. “Tell me,” he said, murmuring the words as he traced careful circles over warm skin.
Orlando went still, his gaze fixed on Elijah’s fingers. He shook his head and swallowed hard. His lips parted and he sipped at the air, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he bit his lip, ducked his head and continued writing.
Elijah slid his fingers under Orlando’s and nudged Orlando’s free hand over, palm up. He traced each finger carefully from base to tip and when he got to the middle finger, Orlando shuddered. Elijah kept going. “I learned that waiting a month to touch you - hands on skin - almost killed me,” Elijah murmured.
Orlando’s hand twitched violently under Elijah’s fingers, but he kept writing. His teeth were digging a permanent crease in his lower lip.
Elijah stroked Orlando’s thumb with his whole hand, mimicking a motion he’d used only once before. “And that you’re strong enough to hold me down with just your mouth,” he whispered, then started when Orlando yanked his hand away and stood up.
Cheeks flushed, Orlando ripped the paper out of his notebook with a shaking hand and slapped it on top of Elijah’s history book before striding off in the direction of the nearest men’s room.
Wide-eyed, Elijah stared at Orlando’s retreating back then looked down at the paper. His eyes got even wider as he read.
Elijah made a quiet, strangled sound deep in his throat, snatched up the paper and scrambled after him.
+
“You ready to go?” asked Elijah, stuffing his books in his backpack as the final bell rang.
Orlando nodded and stood up. “Aren’t the mid-terms and class rankings supposed to be posted today?”
“Oh, yeah,” said Elijah. “We can swing by the office on our way out.”
“Alright,” said Orlando, turning as Sean asked him a question. By the time they extricated themselves from the classroom, the scores had already been posted and the crowds were heavy around the bulletin board outside the main office. Orlando trailed behind Sean as he elbowed his way up to the front, amused at how quickly the crowd parted in front of his friend. The board finally in sight, Orlando’s gaze went immediately to the top of the list. His eyes widened and he turned around to stare at Elijah.
Elijah gave the board a cursory glance then turned down the hall, heading for the student parking lot. “You coming?” he asked Orlando over his shoulder.
Orlando’s mouth opened, then closed. He snorted, abandoning Sean at the board as he stalked after Elijah. “That’s all you’re going to say?” he said, his voice going up on the end of the sentence.
“What?” Elijah looked at him. “You’re ranked second in the class.” He patted Orlando on the shoulder. “You did good.”
Orlando stopped and gestured helplessly with one hand, making a variety of inarticulate sounds.
Elijah grinned and kept walking. “But I did better.”
+
“Are you sure?” Elijah asked, his voice quiet and serious as he looked up at Orlando.
Orlando swallowed hard and nodded.
“Orlando,” said Elijah, reaching up to brush a curl off Orlando’s damp forehead. “We don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready.”
“Shut up, already. I’m sure,” said Orlando. He shifted closer, his expression determined. “And I’m more than ready.”
Elijah chuckled and dropped his hand to squeeze Orlando’s shoulder. “Then you’re going to have to relax,” he said. “I’ve never seen anyone who looked so nervous.”
“I am relaxed,” said Orlando, “and I really want to do it.” He took a deep breath and leaned over Elijah to punch in the code that opened the double bay garage door.
Elijah twirled the set of car keys in his hands and let out a low whistle. “Okay, but I’ve never taught anyone how to drive in a Mercedes before.”
+
The doorbell rang and Orlando jumped up from his perch on the bench in the front hall, fake sword clattering against his hip as he tugged nervously on the edge of his navy tunic. “It’s only a Halloween party,” he muttered and yanked open the door. He gaped at Elijah.
“A knight, huh?” Elijah asked, his gaze traveling slowly down the length of Orlando’s body. “Nice tights.”
Orlando’s mouth was still open, his cheeks turning an attractive shade of pink. He made a gurgling noise in the back of his throat as his gaze traveled first down, then up Elijah’s body. He swallowed - audibly. “What the hell are you wearing?” Blushing when the words came out far more husky than he’d intended.
Elijah lifted one side of the short, plaid uniform skirt and did a quick twirl on the porch, his smirk even more evil than usual as he watched Orlando’s gaze drop to the pale expanse of thigh visible between the tops of his knee-high socks and the skirt’s hem. “A St. Mary’s uniform.” He ran both hands down the crisp white uniform shirt, squeezing the stuffing that filled the borrowed bra underneath. “I’m a catholic school girl.”
Orlando made another strangled sound and his hand twitched - towards the bare skin of Elijah’s thigh.
Elijah made a tsking sound under his breath and snatched Orlando’s wrist before he could make contact. “None of that until after the party. C’mon,” yanking Orlando down the stairs behind him, “we’re gonna be late.”
+
Elijah groaned and clutched handfuls of dark curls. “Good. Fuck,” he hissed, his head thumping back against the door. “That has got to be…oh, god… the shortest appearance I’ve ever made at a party.” Another thump. Then a moan so loud he bit his lip. Gasped. And hunched forward - choking out Orlando’s name as he shuddered. “Argh, I hate you,” he panted when he’d found the blasted apart bits of his brain again. He glanced down and his knees threatened to buckle.
The lump under his plaid skirt shifted and the material fluttered as Orlando’s dark curls came into view, a wet tongue sweeping over swollen, smirking lips. “Just…fuck,” Elijah said with a sigh, and gave up entirely on his knees as he slid down the door. He cradled Orlando’s cheeks between his palms and swept his thumb over the damp part of Orlando’s lips.
“I hate you, too,” Orlando whispered against his finger, his smile hot and bright and telling him the truth.
+
“Just for the record,” Orlando panted, “I hate running.”
Elijah snorted, then gasped as he stumbled and arms wind milling awkwardly, tennis shoes slapping the pavement as he regained his footing. “Shut up, it’s for charity.”
“Charities suck,” Orlando wheezed, swiping a sweaty hand across his even sweatier forehead.
Elijah grinned. “What sucks is that Sean is still ahead of us.”
Orlando groaned. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding.”
Elijah shook his head. “The bastard keeps turning around to check on us. He’s fucking running backwards.”
“Well,” Orlando gasped after another dozen strides, “can’t let him actually win, can we?”
It was Elijah’s turn to groan. “Somehow I knew you’d say that.” He sucked in a lung full of air and tried to find his second wind. “Last one to the finish line has to bottom.”
Orlando choked and nearly lost his footing, growling at the sound of Elijah’s laughter - drifting far too quickly ahead of him. “Argh, seriously? You both suck!”
+
“How did you get this number?” Orlando hissed, cradling the hall phone against his cheek.
“Why aren’t you answering your mobile?”
“We have company, so it’s up in my room,” said Orlando, keeping his voice low. “But that still doesn’t explain how you got the house number.”
Elijah chuckled. “I bribed Quentin with a case of Golden Monkey.”
“Seriously?” Orlando pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He flinched at the sound of crystal and glass clinking behind him, the low buzz of polite conversation filtering out into the hall.
“Relax, you idiot.” Elijah soothed. “Your mom gave it to me when I was over before the break.” There was a pause, then Elijah spoke again - his voice quiet. “Hey, Merry Christmas.”
Orlando swallowed and wrapped his hand up in the old-fashioned cord. “Merry Christmas,” he said, a slow smile filtering through the words.
“How many people are over there anyway?” Elijah asked.
Orlando glanced over his shoulder. “It’s a formal dinner, so only 24.”
“Formal, huh?” Elijah tucked one arm behind his head and scrunched down against the lumpy pillows in his Grandparents’ guest room. “Where are you?”
“On the hall phone.”
“Right across from the dining room?”
“Yeah, why?” Orlando asked.
There was a heartbeat of silence, then Elijah asked, “What are you wearing?”
“What?” Orlando was hissing again. “There are people here, I have to get back to…”
“C’mon, just tell me.”
Orlando looked down at his attire. “It’s white tie.” He frowned when he heard something that sounded very much like a groan on the other end of the phone.
“So you’re in a tux?” Elijah’s voice sounded suspiciously husky.
“No, a white dinner jacket with black slacks and a bowtie and such.” Orlando’s gaze narrowed. That was definitely a groan.
“Damn, I’ll bet you smell good, too,” Elijah murmured.
The was the sound of fabric shifting over skin. Orlando swallowed hard, his hand tightening on the cord. “W-what?” Blushing at the way his voice hitched. “Are you out of your mind? I’m standing in the hall…”
“It makes me hard just thinking about what you must look like right now. And you’re blushing, too, right?” Elijah asked, more suspicious noises carrying across the connection.
Orlando bit his lower lip. Hard. And didn’t answer.
Elijah’s chuckle was pure, unfiltered sex. “Wanna know what I’m doing right now?”
Orlando clutched the hall table, the flush that had started on his cheeks spreading down. Way, way down. “No. I…you…” he choked on the words, flustered by the amount of heat Elijah could generate with just a few sentences. “I hate you,” he hissed, hand trembling around the phone.
“Get your ass up to your room as soon as you can and call me.” Elijah said.
Orlando made a noise that sounded very much like a snarl. “Argh…fine,” he snapped and hung up the phone.
+
“If I’d known not seeing you for two weeks would make you this toppy, I’d have taken a damn vacation months ago.” Elijah’s voice was a low murmur, his breath ruffling the hair at Orlando’s temple, one hand tracing idle patterns down the long line of his back.
Orlando snorted, but didn’t move from his languorous sprawl against Elijah’s chest.
Elijah chuckled and rubbed his feet against the backs of Orlando’s thighs, toes kneading the long, sweat-shined muscles. “You were really loud,” he said, mouthing the top of Orlando’s ear.
“Well, you came so hard I thought you’d sprained something,” Orlando mumbled, gathering up enough energy to lift his head.
Elijah smirked and tilted his head down, rubbing a kiss across Orlando’s mouth. “It’s your fault for getting so good at fucking,” he murmured.
“You’ve got such a dirty mouth,” Orlando whispered and shifted higher, hands sweeping hot over sun-kissed skin and Elijah’s lips parted.
+
“Guys, seriously?” Sean slumped a little in the bright orange food court chair. “This is never going to work.”
“Shut up,” said Elijah. “We can find you a date.”
“But at the mall?” Sean whined.
“Yes, at the mall,” said Elijah. “God knows they sell everything else here.”
Orlando whacked Elijah on the shoulder.
“Ow, I was joking.”
Sean pressed on. “But it’s the Valentine Ball. Next Saturday.” Sean drooped a little more, letting his head fall over the back of the chair. “How lame is that? Asking a girl to a dance the week before.”
Orlando and Elijah shared a look over the remnants of their fast food lunches.
Sean rubbed his fists against his eyes and yawned before straightening again. He frowned and reached for his bottled water and the last two pills on his napkin. “Stupid cousins and their stupid new exchange student boyfriends. Melody’s always gone to the school dances with me, ever since we were in Cotillion together. Traitor.”
Elijah snorted. “Sean, you don’t even like Melody.”
“So?” said Sean. “She’s a girl, isn’t she?”
Orlando pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s right. This is never going to work.”
Elijah shoved back from the table and stood, hitching his faded jeans up and flicking down the hem of his Ramone’s t-shirt. “Both of you stop your whining and get up. We have some girl shopping to do.”
Orlando whacked him again.
+
“Where’d you leave him?” Orlando collapsed on the bench next to Elijah and dropped a couple of shopping bags between his feet.
“Trying on jeans at Hollister,” said Elijah, opening one eye and pulling the ear buds out of his ears. “I told him to burn the ones he had on and meet us at the Starbucks inside the book store.” Elijah’s own bags were piled on the floor next to him.
Orlando chuckled and bent over his bags. “Good. I went back and exchanged two of the ‘young republican’ straight-jackets he’d picked out for this.” He held up a dove gray cashmere sweater with simple, classic lines.
Elijah caught a sleeve between his fingers. “Nice.” He yawned, stretched and stood up. “Remind me to never and try and fix a depressed Sean by taking him shopping.”
“Never try and fix a depressed Sean by taking him shopping,” said Orlando, obediently.
This time Elijah whacked him on the shoulder.
+
Orlando and Elijah gaped openly at the girl standing in front of them.
“Yes, I know! It really is amazing how many crossovers there have been between the young adult and adult trade fiction markets in the last few years. I’m Taylor, by the way, Taylor Sterling. Not that surprising, though, given the kind of exposure kids get now a days, I mean, haha.” Taylor pushed a pair of bright red framed glasses higher on her nose and juggled the huge stack of books she was carrying to her other shoulder. “Exposure to adult themes, not like, from flashers.” She laughed again. “Not that there’s anything wrong with the naked human body.” Her blue eyes widened and she turned to Orlando so fast her sandy blonde ponytail listed to one side. “Speaking of, there’s a great cook book out by Paulie Broom right now that focuses on how to increase caloric intake in a healthy way, you know - without succumbing to the fast food nation that we are, haha. Not that you’re unhealthy or anything, just a few pounds under your ideal.” Without drawing breath, she turned to Elijah. “Maybe you could buy it for him for his birthday or something? What with you two, you know, haha,” the color on her cheeks brightened and her laugh went up a few octaves. “being together and all. So cute, by the way. So cute.”
Elijah blinked at her.
Orlando sounded like he was choking on something.
Her blue eyes widened behind the thick glasses and her blush seemed painted on for life. “Oh, I’m sorry, I said that last part out loud, didn’t I? I can’t help it, I just have this, you know - thing. Where I can tell and I’m usually so, so right. Like, all the time.” Her voice trailed off as she seemed to be captivated by something - or someone - over their shoulder. “Oh,” she said, with a little sigh. “He’s not, though, is he? Not at all.”
Elijah had a pretty good idea of who she was looking at, without having to turn around. He glanced at Orlando. “It’s Sean, isn’t it?”
Orlando turned to look over his shoulder and made another, even stranger sound. “It is.”
Elijah grinned at him. “They really do have everything here.”
Orlando snorted. “One Valentine Ball date, coming up,” he said under his breath as he moved to catch the books that were tumbling out of the girl’s arms. “Taylor? There’s someone we’d like you to meet.”
+
Elijah still looked a little dazed as Orlando entered the key code and unlocked the door, ushering him into the kitchen.
“That was my friend Sean Astin, right? Big jock, talks too much, dresses like a pre-schooler, socially awkward, but good intentioned?”
“Uh, yeah,” said Orlando, mostly over his own shock.
“That charming, reserved, sweet talking, ladies man was Sean. Really?”
“Really, really,” said Orlando, his grin growing with every incredulous word.
Elijah started to laugh and couldn’t stop. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
“Can you imagine what their kids are going to be like?”
+
The music was too loud, the punch not nearly spiked enough and the decorations were straight out of last year’s Fashion Week. Elijah sighed and tipped his head back against the banquet chair, rolling his eyes to one side as he felt something warm brush against his shoulder. “So bored,” he whined.
Orlando set down two cups of punch and folded himself into an elegant sprawl in the chair beside him. “Not my fault you can’t dance.” He tugged lightly on the sleeves of his tux and ran an impatient hand through his hair.
“Won’t, not can’t,” said Elijah, lifting a plastic cup to take a sip. He made a face and hastily returned it to the table.
“Molesting me while remaining in a vertical position is not dancing,” Orlando quipped, reaching for his own cup to hide the flush to his cheeks at his own daring.
Elijah snorted and rubbed a shoe-less foot against Orlando’s calf under the table, grinning when Orlando made an undignified sound and whipped his head around to glare at him. Elijah’s eyes were wide and innocent. “What?”
Orlando’s gaze narrowed. After a long moment he leaned in close, mouth barely brushing the curve of Elijah’s ear as he spoke in a low murmur meant for Elijah’s ears only.
Elijah’s eyes widened, then narrowed, a quiet wash of color streaking across his cheeks as he listened. And shifted. And listened some more. He had to open his mouth to remind himself to breathe. Just as he went from shifting to a full-bodied shudder, Orlando sat back, smiled and took a sip of his punch.
Elijah growled, low and dangerous in the back of his throat.
“Not bored now, are you?” Orlando said, with a smirk.
+
Elijah looked up at the sound of what could only be Sean trundling across the grass towards him, backpack, satchel, workout bag and who knows what other school activity paraphernalia swinging from both arms.
Sean came to a stop under the tree Elijah was leaning against, dropped the entire mess into a pile, threw himself on the ground, and didn’t say a word.
Elijah snorted and went back to reading his book.
Sean sniffed, leaned back on his hands and stared up into the tree branches, squinting against the shifting spokes of bright afternoon sun. “Are you really in love this time?” he asked, simply. Quietly.
It was a few seconds before Elijah made a small humming sound in the back of his throat and slowly closed his book.
Sean tipped his head sideways to look at him.
Elijah opened his mouth as if to speak and his gaze shifted, slipping over Sean’s shoulder to something beyond. His lips pursed then curled up at the corners. The bright blue gaze mellowed and the edges of his eyes softened.
Sean rolled his head to the other side, following the direction of Elijah’s gaze and watched Orlando stroll unhurriedly across the wide lawn.
The wind ruffled dark curls, a loose tie and the jacket he had slung over a shoulder. A leather satchel bumped gently against Orlando’s hip as he lifted a hand in greeting “Hi, Sean,” he said, warm and friendly, then a soft, “Hey,” to Elijah, his slow smile melting into the word.
Sean grinned and closed his eyes, tipping his head back to the sun. “Never mind.”
END
Author: deleerium
Status: Complete
Type: LOTR RPS AU (catholic school boys - modern, USA, takes place in some nameless big city in the south)
Rating: G - PG 15 ish?
Prompt: 22 - “school boys” for orlijah_month
When mid-terms came around, it only took Orlando one afternoon of trying to study at his house with Elijah to decide that the library would be a better choice.
Much less fun, but still - better. At least he kept more of his clothes on.
“This sucks,” said Elijah, muttering out of the corner of his mouth, his head propped on his hand as he stared with listless disinterest at his history book. The library was deserted this time of day, the long table they shared tucked away in the reference section.
Orlando looked up and nudged Elijah’s foot with his own. “At least we’re actually studying,” he said, keeping his voice down, but he was smiling as he returned to reviewing his notes.
“Hm,” said Elijah, idly turning a page. “I think I learned more yesterday.”
“I doubt it.” Orlando resisted the urge to look up.
Elijah crossed his arms over the book, dropped his chin on top of them and stared at Orlando. “I learned that you stop breathing entirely right before you’re about to come,” he said, his eyes glittering.
Orlando looked up so fast he dropped his pen and banged his knee on the table leg. “Shh,” he hissed, his face flooding with color as he retrieved his pen.
“What?” Elijah raised both eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure you learned a lot of stuff yesterday, too.”
“No, I…don’t say stuff like…shut up,” said Orlando, ducking his head and frowning, even as his cheeks continued to burn. “You’re so-” he broke off with an inarticulate sound and flipped over his notebook, his pen scratching furiously across the paper.
Elijah slid a hand across the table and ghosted his fingers over Orlando’s wrist. “Tell me,” he said, murmuring the words as he traced careful circles over warm skin.
Orlando went still, his gaze fixed on Elijah’s fingers. He shook his head and swallowed hard. His lips parted and he sipped at the air, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he bit his lip, ducked his head and continued writing.
Elijah slid his fingers under Orlando’s and nudged Orlando’s free hand over, palm up. He traced each finger carefully from base to tip and when he got to the middle finger, Orlando shuddered. Elijah kept going. “I learned that waiting a month to touch you - hands on skin - almost killed me,” Elijah murmured.
Orlando’s hand twitched violently under Elijah’s fingers, but he kept writing. His teeth were digging a permanent crease in his lower lip.
Elijah stroked Orlando’s thumb with his whole hand, mimicking a motion he’d used only once before. “And that you’re strong enough to hold me down with just your mouth,” he whispered, then started when Orlando yanked his hand away and stood up.
Cheeks flushed, Orlando ripped the paper out of his notebook with a shaking hand and slapped it on top of Elijah’s history book before striding off in the direction of the nearest men’s room.
Wide-eyed, Elijah stared at Orlando’s retreating back then looked down at the paper. His eyes got even wider as he read.
Elijah made a quiet, strangled sound deep in his throat, snatched up the paper and scrambled after him.
+
“You ready to go?” asked Elijah, stuffing his books in his backpack as the final bell rang.
Orlando nodded and stood up. “Aren’t the mid-terms and class rankings supposed to be posted today?”
“Oh, yeah,” said Elijah. “We can swing by the office on our way out.”
“Alright,” said Orlando, turning as Sean asked him a question. By the time they extricated themselves from the classroom, the scores had already been posted and the crowds were heavy around the bulletin board outside the main office. Orlando trailed behind Sean as he elbowed his way up to the front, amused at how quickly the crowd parted in front of his friend. The board finally in sight, Orlando’s gaze went immediately to the top of the list. His eyes widened and he turned around to stare at Elijah.
Elijah gave the board a cursory glance then turned down the hall, heading for the student parking lot. “You coming?” he asked Orlando over his shoulder.
Orlando’s mouth opened, then closed. He snorted, abandoning Sean at the board as he stalked after Elijah. “That’s all you’re going to say?” he said, his voice going up on the end of the sentence.
“What?” Elijah looked at him. “You’re ranked second in the class.” He patted Orlando on the shoulder. “You did good.”
Orlando stopped and gestured helplessly with one hand, making a variety of inarticulate sounds.
Elijah grinned and kept walking. “But I did better.”
+
“Are you sure?” Elijah asked, his voice quiet and serious as he looked up at Orlando.
Orlando swallowed hard and nodded.
“Orlando,” said Elijah, reaching up to brush a curl off Orlando’s damp forehead. “We don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready.”
“Shut up, already. I’m sure,” said Orlando. He shifted closer, his expression determined. “And I’m more than ready.”
Elijah chuckled and dropped his hand to squeeze Orlando’s shoulder. “Then you’re going to have to relax,” he said. “I’ve never seen anyone who looked so nervous.”
“I am relaxed,” said Orlando, “and I really want to do it.” He took a deep breath and leaned over Elijah to punch in the code that opened the double bay garage door.
Elijah twirled the set of car keys in his hands and let out a low whistle. “Okay, but I’ve never taught anyone how to drive in a Mercedes before.”
+
The doorbell rang and Orlando jumped up from his perch on the bench in the front hall, fake sword clattering against his hip as he tugged nervously on the edge of his navy tunic. “It’s only a Halloween party,” he muttered and yanked open the door. He gaped at Elijah.
“A knight, huh?” Elijah asked, his gaze traveling slowly down the length of Orlando’s body. “Nice tights.”
Orlando’s mouth was still open, his cheeks turning an attractive shade of pink. He made a gurgling noise in the back of his throat as his gaze traveled first down, then up Elijah’s body. He swallowed - audibly. “What the hell are you wearing?” Blushing when the words came out far more husky than he’d intended.
Elijah lifted one side of the short, plaid uniform skirt and did a quick twirl on the porch, his smirk even more evil than usual as he watched Orlando’s gaze drop to the pale expanse of thigh visible between the tops of his knee-high socks and the skirt’s hem. “A St. Mary’s uniform.” He ran both hands down the crisp white uniform shirt, squeezing the stuffing that filled the borrowed bra underneath. “I’m a catholic school girl.”
Orlando made another strangled sound and his hand twitched - towards the bare skin of Elijah’s thigh.
Elijah made a tsking sound under his breath and snatched Orlando’s wrist before he could make contact. “None of that until after the party. C’mon,” yanking Orlando down the stairs behind him, “we’re gonna be late.”
+
Elijah groaned and clutched handfuls of dark curls. “Good. Fuck,” he hissed, his head thumping back against the door. “That has got to be…oh, god… the shortest appearance I’ve ever made at a party.” Another thump. Then a moan so loud he bit his lip. Gasped. And hunched forward - choking out Orlando’s name as he shuddered. “Argh, I hate you,” he panted when he’d found the blasted apart bits of his brain again. He glanced down and his knees threatened to buckle.
The lump under his plaid skirt shifted and the material fluttered as Orlando’s dark curls came into view, a wet tongue sweeping over swollen, smirking lips. “Just…fuck,” Elijah said with a sigh, and gave up entirely on his knees as he slid down the door. He cradled Orlando’s cheeks between his palms and swept his thumb over the damp part of Orlando’s lips.
“I hate you, too,” Orlando whispered against his finger, his smile hot and bright and telling him the truth.
+
“Just for the record,” Orlando panted, “I hate running.”
Elijah snorted, then gasped as he stumbled and arms wind milling awkwardly, tennis shoes slapping the pavement as he regained his footing. “Shut up, it’s for charity.”
“Charities suck,” Orlando wheezed, swiping a sweaty hand across his even sweatier forehead.
Elijah grinned. “What sucks is that Sean is still ahead of us.”
Orlando groaned. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding.”
Elijah shook his head. “The bastard keeps turning around to check on us. He’s fucking running backwards.”
“Well,” Orlando gasped after another dozen strides, “can’t let him actually win, can we?”
It was Elijah’s turn to groan. “Somehow I knew you’d say that.” He sucked in a lung full of air and tried to find his second wind. “Last one to the finish line has to bottom.”
Orlando choked and nearly lost his footing, growling at the sound of Elijah’s laughter - drifting far too quickly ahead of him. “Argh, seriously? You both suck!”
+
“How did you get this number?” Orlando hissed, cradling the hall phone against his cheek.
“Why aren’t you answering your mobile?”
“We have company, so it’s up in my room,” said Orlando, keeping his voice low. “But that still doesn’t explain how you got the house number.”
Elijah chuckled. “I bribed Quentin with a case of Golden Monkey.”
“Seriously?” Orlando pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He flinched at the sound of crystal and glass clinking behind him, the low buzz of polite conversation filtering out into the hall.
“Relax, you idiot.” Elijah soothed. “Your mom gave it to me when I was over before the break.” There was a pause, then Elijah spoke again - his voice quiet. “Hey, Merry Christmas.”
Orlando swallowed and wrapped his hand up in the old-fashioned cord. “Merry Christmas,” he said, a slow smile filtering through the words.
“How many people are over there anyway?” Elijah asked.
Orlando glanced over his shoulder. “It’s a formal dinner, so only 24.”
“Formal, huh?” Elijah tucked one arm behind his head and scrunched down against the lumpy pillows in his Grandparents’ guest room. “Where are you?”
“On the hall phone.”
“Right across from the dining room?”
“Yeah, why?” Orlando asked.
There was a heartbeat of silence, then Elijah asked, “What are you wearing?”
“What?” Orlando was hissing again. “There are people here, I have to get back to…”
“C’mon, just tell me.”
Orlando looked down at his attire. “It’s white tie.” He frowned when he heard something that sounded very much like a groan on the other end of the phone.
“So you’re in a tux?” Elijah’s voice sounded suspiciously husky.
“No, a white dinner jacket with black slacks and a bowtie and such.” Orlando’s gaze narrowed. That was definitely a groan.
“Damn, I’ll bet you smell good, too,” Elijah murmured.
The was the sound of fabric shifting over skin. Orlando swallowed hard, his hand tightening on the cord. “W-what?” Blushing at the way his voice hitched. “Are you out of your mind? I’m standing in the hall…”
“It makes me hard just thinking about what you must look like right now. And you’re blushing, too, right?” Elijah asked, more suspicious noises carrying across the connection.
Orlando bit his lower lip. Hard. And didn’t answer.
Elijah’s chuckle was pure, unfiltered sex. “Wanna know what I’m doing right now?”
Orlando clutched the hall table, the flush that had started on his cheeks spreading down. Way, way down. “No. I…you…” he choked on the words, flustered by the amount of heat Elijah could generate with just a few sentences. “I hate you,” he hissed, hand trembling around the phone.
“Get your ass up to your room as soon as you can and call me.” Elijah said.
Orlando made a noise that sounded very much like a snarl. “Argh…fine,” he snapped and hung up the phone.
+
“If I’d known not seeing you for two weeks would make you this toppy, I’d have taken a damn vacation months ago.” Elijah’s voice was a low murmur, his breath ruffling the hair at Orlando’s temple, one hand tracing idle patterns down the long line of his back.
Orlando snorted, but didn’t move from his languorous sprawl against Elijah’s chest.
Elijah chuckled and rubbed his feet against the backs of Orlando’s thighs, toes kneading the long, sweat-shined muscles. “You were really loud,” he said, mouthing the top of Orlando’s ear.
“Well, you came so hard I thought you’d sprained something,” Orlando mumbled, gathering up enough energy to lift his head.
Elijah smirked and tilted his head down, rubbing a kiss across Orlando’s mouth. “It’s your fault for getting so good at fucking,” he murmured.
“You’ve got such a dirty mouth,” Orlando whispered and shifted higher, hands sweeping hot over sun-kissed skin and Elijah’s lips parted.
+
“Guys, seriously?” Sean slumped a little in the bright orange food court chair. “This is never going to work.”
“Shut up,” said Elijah. “We can find you a date.”
“But at the mall?” Sean whined.
“Yes, at the mall,” said Elijah. “God knows they sell everything else here.”
Orlando whacked Elijah on the shoulder.
“Ow, I was joking.”
Sean pressed on. “But it’s the Valentine Ball. Next Saturday.” Sean drooped a little more, letting his head fall over the back of the chair. “How lame is that? Asking a girl to a dance the week before.”
Orlando and Elijah shared a look over the remnants of their fast food lunches.
Sean rubbed his fists against his eyes and yawned before straightening again. He frowned and reached for his bottled water and the last two pills on his napkin. “Stupid cousins and their stupid new exchange student boyfriends. Melody’s always gone to the school dances with me, ever since we were in Cotillion together. Traitor.”
Elijah snorted. “Sean, you don’t even like Melody.”
“So?” said Sean. “She’s a girl, isn’t she?”
Orlando pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s right. This is never going to work.”
Elijah shoved back from the table and stood, hitching his faded jeans up and flicking down the hem of his Ramone’s t-shirt. “Both of you stop your whining and get up. We have some girl shopping to do.”
Orlando whacked him again.
+
“Where’d you leave him?” Orlando collapsed on the bench next to Elijah and dropped a couple of shopping bags between his feet.
“Trying on jeans at Hollister,” said Elijah, opening one eye and pulling the ear buds out of his ears. “I told him to burn the ones he had on and meet us at the Starbucks inside the book store.” Elijah’s own bags were piled on the floor next to him.
Orlando chuckled and bent over his bags. “Good. I went back and exchanged two of the ‘young republican’ straight-jackets he’d picked out for this.” He held up a dove gray cashmere sweater with simple, classic lines.
Elijah caught a sleeve between his fingers. “Nice.” He yawned, stretched and stood up. “Remind me to never and try and fix a depressed Sean by taking him shopping.”
“Never try and fix a depressed Sean by taking him shopping,” said Orlando, obediently.
This time Elijah whacked him on the shoulder.
+
Orlando and Elijah gaped openly at the girl standing in front of them.
“Yes, I know! It really is amazing how many crossovers there have been between the young adult and adult trade fiction markets in the last few years. I’m Taylor, by the way, Taylor Sterling. Not that surprising, though, given the kind of exposure kids get now a days, I mean, haha.” Taylor pushed a pair of bright red framed glasses higher on her nose and juggled the huge stack of books she was carrying to her other shoulder. “Exposure to adult themes, not like, from flashers.” She laughed again. “Not that there’s anything wrong with the naked human body.” Her blue eyes widened and she turned to Orlando so fast her sandy blonde ponytail listed to one side. “Speaking of, there’s a great cook book out by Paulie Broom right now that focuses on how to increase caloric intake in a healthy way, you know - without succumbing to the fast food nation that we are, haha. Not that you’re unhealthy or anything, just a few pounds under your ideal.” Without drawing breath, she turned to Elijah. “Maybe you could buy it for him for his birthday or something? What with you two, you know, haha,” the color on her cheeks brightened and her laugh went up a few octaves. “being together and all. So cute, by the way. So cute.”
Elijah blinked at her.
Orlando sounded like he was choking on something.
Her blue eyes widened behind the thick glasses and her blush seemed painted on for life. “Oh, I’m sorry, I said that last part out loud, didn’t I? I can’t help it, I just have this, you know - thing. Where I can tell and I’m usually so, so right. Like, all the time.” Her voice trailed off as she seemed to be captivated by something - or someone - over their shoulder. “Oh,” she said, with a little sigh. “He’s not, though, is he? Not at all.”
Elijah had a pretty good idea of who she was looking at, without having to turn around. He glanced at Orlando. “It’s Sean, isn’t it?”
Orlando turned to look over his shoulder and made another, even stranger sound. “It is.”
Elijah grinned at him. “They really do have everything here.”
Orlando snorted. “One Valentine Ball date, coming up,” he said under his breath as he moved to catch the books that were tumbling out of the girl’s arms. “Taylor? There’s someone we’d like you to meet.”
+
Elijah still looked a little dazed as Orlando entered the key code and unlocked the door, ushering him into the kitchen.
“That was my friend Sean Astin, right? Big jock, talks too much, dresses like a pre-schooler, socially awkward, but good intentioned?”
“Uh, yeah,” said Orlando, mostly over his own shock.
“That charming, reserved, sweet talking, ladies man was Sean. Really?”
“Really, really,” said Orlando, his grin growing with every incredulous word.
Elijah started to laugh and couldn’t stop. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
“Can you imagine what their kids are going to be like?”
+
The music was too loud, the punch not nearly spiked enough and the decorations were straight out of last year’s Fashion Week. Elijah sighed and tipped his head back against the banquet chair, rolling his eyes to one side as he felt something warm brush against his shoulder. “So bored,” he whined.
Orlando set down two cups of punch and folded himself into an elegant sprawl in the chair beside him. “Not my fault you can’t dance.” He tugged lightly on the sleeves of his tux and ran an impatient hand through his hair.
“Won’t, not can’t,” said Elijah, lifting a plastic cup to take a sip. He made a face and hastily returned it to the table.
“Molesting me while remaining in a vertical position is not dancing,” Orlando quipped, reaching for his own cup to hide the flush to his cheeks at his own daring.
Elijah snorted and rubbed a shoe-less foot against Orlando’s calf under the table, grinning when Orlando made an undignified sound and whipped his head around to glare at him. Elijah’s eyes were wide and innocent. “What?”
Orlando’s gaze narrowed. After a long moment he leaned in close, mouth barely brushing the curve of Elijah’s ear as he spoke in a low murmur meant for Elijah’s ears only.
Elijah’s eyes widened, then narrowed, a quiet wash of color streaking across his cheeks as he listened. And shifted. And listened some more. He had to open his mouth to remind himself to breathe. Just as he went from shifting to a full-bodied shudder, Orlando sat back, smiled and took a sip of his punch.
Elijah growled, low and dangerous in the back of his throat.
“Not bored now, are you?” Orlando said, with a smirk.
+
Elijah looked up at the sound of what could only be Sean trundling across the grass towards him, backpack, satchel, workout bag and who knows what other school activity paraphernalia swinging from both arms.
Sean came to a stop under the tree Elijah was leaning against, dropped the entire mess into a pile, threw himself on the ground, and didn’t say a word.
Elijah snorted and went back to reading his book.
Sean sniffed, leaned back on his hands and stared up into the tree branches, squinting against the shifting spokes of bright afternoon sun. “Are you really in love this time?” he asked, simply. Quietly.
It was a few seconds before Elijah made a small humming sound in the back of his throat and slowly closed his book.
Sean tipped his head sideways to look at him.
Elijah opened his mouth as if to speak and his gaze shifted, slipping over Sean’s shoulder to something beyond. His lips pursed then curled up at the corners. The bright blue gaze mellowed and the edges of his eyes softened.
Sean rolled his head to the other side, following the direction of Elijah’s gaze and watched Orlando stroll unhurriedly across the wide lawn.
The wind ruffled dark curls, a loose tie and the jacket he had slung over a shoulder. A leather satchel bumped gently against Orlando’s hip as he lifted a hand in greeting “Hi, Sean,” he said, warm and friendly, then a soft, “Hey,” to Elijah, his slow smile melting into the word.
Sean grinned and closed his eyes, tipping his head back to the sun. “Never mind.”
END