Title: Just for Now
Original story: Just for fun by waqaychay
Summary: There are always two POV's when two people meet.
Post-reveal notes:Many thanks to my beta's and sounding boards celtprincess13, divinemadam, hisniblets and sandalwood. I've always loved this fic of waqaychay's and couldn't believe my luck when I drew her in the remix. There was never any question that this would be the fic I remixed.
Disclaimer: The author makes no claims or inferences to reality or truthfulness. Moreover, this story is based upon the work of another author and recognises their creation.
He didn't think I noticed the way he looked at me. I could see the appreciation in his eyes even from across the crowded airport departure lounge. I'm not as stupid as people would expect. I know they see what they perceive as a 'pretty boy' and think that I have soggy sawdust where my brain should be. I'm not, and I don't I have a brain and while I might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, I'm sure as hell not the dullest either. But sometimes? Sometimes it's easier to let their perceptions stand. After all, it doesn't really matter what they think of me, especially if all they want from me is quick no-name pleasure. And without being immodest, I can do pleasure. But this one, I can see even from here he's going to be different.
In fact, as he got closer, my own interest was piqued. I didn't know anything about him save for his name, but I knew it was him the moment I saw him. Didn't know how I just did. Did I mention he was gorgeous? Not in the pretty way, he could never be called pretty, and he really wasn't classically handsome either. He was just gorgeous? without waxing poetic and all that other shit, he was beautiful from the inside, so beautiful that it showed, and better yet? He had no fucking idea. So by the time he introduced himself to me and I heard his voice, I was ready to beg him to tie me to his bed, because, yes, he was all that and then some.
I must have looked like a right daft prat to him really or incredibly easy, maybe both. But what can I say, I was excited. This was not only my first 'real' acting job but first real travel as well, and to be spending it trapped in a confined space with someone I found so amazingly attractive wasn't doing anything to quell my excitement, on any level.
There was something different about him, I didn't really understand then like I do now. All I knew was that by the time we were in our seats, I didn't just want him, I wanted more. I'd known him all of an hour and it was the best hour of my life, but when he hit on me, I wasn't sure how to respond. I wasn't even really sure he was hitting on me so I asked him because my gaydar has always been absolute shite. He confirmed my suspicions.
"You like the lads? Because I have to admit I fancy you, and I've never had sex on an airplane before."
I'm sure I looked like a fool, my mouth open, even as my entire blood supply headed directly for my groin. I wanted him, but I already wanted more than just a quick hand job in a plane or a cramped fuck in an airplane bathroom, I wasn't sure yet what that more was, I just knew that I wanted more.
I stammered quickly, trying desperately to show him I wasn't the inexperienced kid he probably thought he was trapped with. Still I couldn't help myself, after all who wouldn't be concerned, we were going to be working together for a very long time. Things could get awkward. Really awkward.
"What's the problem? We're two young blokes, and it's just a bit of fun. Doesn't have to mean anything. Meet me in the loo?" He winked at me, and leaving his seat, climbed over my legs and into the aisle. I couldn't help myself, I had to lean into the aisle and watch the play of denim across his ass as he walked towards the bathroom.
I waited for a few minutes and followed him into the tiny room. I barely even had the door closed before he'd grabbed me by the shirt and pressed me against the door, one hand grabbing me by the back of the neck and pulling my face down to his for his kiss. I'd had my fair share of quite spectacular snogs, but kissing him was fucking amazing. His kisses were incredible. Wet, hot, open-mouthed kisses, his tongue pushing into my mouth, not just tasting but devouring me and I loved it.
When he pulled back and pushed me over the sink, then dragged my belt from the loops of my jeans, I knew exactly what he wanted. I didn't resist instead putting my trembling hands at the faucet waiting for him as he secured me.
"Not the first time a man's tied you up, is it?" he growled in my ear. The burr in his voice sent a shiver down my spine as I pushed back to feel his erection rubbing against my ass.
"No," I couldn't help it, my voice came out as a needy, desperate moan. "Seems everyone wants to do it." I managed to bite my tongue before I added that never before had I wanted it like I did now.
It was all I could do not to come in my pants when he leaned up to nip at my neck. The sharp white teeth marked my skin, even as he pushed his arousal against my hip. I bent my knees desperate to feel him against my whole body. So turned on I could barely register that he was speaking, just that the growl in that accented voice was doing incredible things to my libido.
I couldn't help it, I fought against the restraints, my fingers, desperate to touch him, but I couldn't get free.
"God, your accent is fucking sexy. Never had a Scottish bloke before."
Whatever he said next was lost on me. His hands had slipped around my waist to unbutton my jeans and I couldn't stop the gasp that forced itself past my lips as the back of his hand brushed against my cock while he pushed my jeans and shorts down. My teeth caught my bottom lip and gnawed at it as his calloused fingertips caressed my ass cheeks. His teeth nipped the base of my spine as he pushed a finger between my cheeks, running it down my cleft and my hips stuttered forward.
The sensation of him slapping my ass cheeks with his erection was almost more than I could bear. I growled at him to hurry the fuck up. I was so horny I wasn't going to last long at all. I pushed back against him and caught his erection between my ass cheeks, clenching them tightly around him before he pulled away.
The grin that curved my lips as I heard him fumbling for a condom and lube faded quickly as a lube-slick finger pushed into me to the first knuckle without any warning.
"Shhh, baby," he crooned. "It's all right." I could feel his other hand stroking my back through my shirt but I didn't care, all I wanted was more of him as my hips canted back onto his hand.
"Don't fucking call me 'baby,' man." I grunted as he pushed a second and third finger into me. As he pushed my shirt up my back, I couldn't help it I went completely still under him, I tipped my head back and tried to see him in the mirror, because I knew what was coming.
"What...? Are you...?"
My frustrated sigh said it all really. He wasn't the first to want to stop because of the scar. Stop because he might hurt me.
"It's an old scar. I'm fine, just fuck me already."
That was the first time he surprised me. Instead of pulling away, horrified by the scar as many of my partners were, Billy traced a finger down the length of the scar then leaned forward and pressed a soft open mouthed kiss to either side of it. While I was getting over that surprise, he pushed himself into me. Deep, completely, one long stroke filling me. He never moved, just stood there, filling me, his hips flush against the curve of my ass, his thighs pressed against mine. It was all I could do not to beg him, I arched my back, my hips stuttered back against him, I needed him to move, now!
"Ah, you're a beauty, aren't you, lad?" I could feel his words breathed against my skin, and when his hand closed around my cock I couldn't even concentrate on the raw sex of his voice as he growled obscenely to me.
"Fuck me, Fuck me." I gasped, screwing my eyes shut. I thrust forward into his hand and back onto him. He didn't disappoint. I have never been so thoroughly fucked in all my life. It was hard and fast and raw and carnal and a million other things that my mind couldn't even begin to wrap itself around, not while his body was pounding against mine, his hand pulling at me more slowly than his hips thrusting into me. With every stroke he brushed against my prostate I rested my head and against my arm and bit my own flesh as I struggled not to cry out. His free hand slapped my ass and pulled at my nipples, touched me wherever he could reach as I whimpered into my skin, desperately fighting to last long enough to please him. I wanted, no I needed to give him as much as he was giving me.
"Such a slut, aren't you, Orlando?" I tried to concentrate on his words, and not the way his body was pounding into me or the way his rough fingers wrapped so tightly around me, turning my knees to jelly and my brain to mush. "Such a slut for me. Are you going to come soon? I don't think I can last much longer. Fuck, your arse is so hot, so tight."
"Yeah, Yeah." I agreed gasping for breath and nodding as I lifted my head to look for his eyes in the mirror. I wanted to see the green fire of his eyes as he came, but I couldn't open my eyes to look. It was too much, too much sensation and before I could even begin to control my body, he slammed into my prostate one more time and I was coming, and then he was too.
Sharp tears stung my eyes as he pulled out quickly. To cover my reaction to his sudden withdrawal I tugged on the belt and waited for him to lift himself off the toilet seat to release me. As soon as I was free I lifted my arms over my head and stretched the kinks out of my back.
"All right, mate?" he asked softly, his fingertips tracing the bottom of my scar. I don't know why that touched me as much as it did; something about that touch made this more than a casual fuck in my head. Not that it ever really had been for me. Where the fuck had that come from? I shook my head to clear the wayward thoughts.
"'M fine, just a little stiff."
"Not anymore, baby." He thought he was being funny but all I heard was the baby and somehow that hurt. I didn't want to be his fucking 'baby' but it hurt all the same. I righted my clothes and washed my hands, my teeth worrying my bottom lip as I watched him flush the condom and wash down the sink. I couldn't stay in the tiny room with him any longer; I had to get out. Opening the door a crack I slipped out and back to our seats. I couldn't help but wince as I sat down. Billy was nothing if not a thorough lover.
I took the cowards route. By the time he got back to his seat, I had my head back and my eyes closed, desperately hoping that he thought I was asleep. I wasn't but I didn't want to chat. I didn't want to deal with the thoughts running in and out of my head. The only catch was that with my eyes closed the only distraction I had was the conversations inside my head. Fuck! I hadn't even made to New Zealand and already I was certifiable.
Even though I couldn't see him I could feel his eyes on me, but when I heard the soft whuffling, whistling sounds of him snoring, and his head lolling to rest on my shoulder I opened my eyes and spent the next hour watching him, one hand resting on his taut thigh, until I realized that he was waking up. Great, certifiable and now a stalker. What happened to the confident fucking Orlando who arrived at the airport this morning? Courtesy of the fact that it was Billy's birthday, we managed to coax a bottle of champagne from one of the stewards, and when he raised an eyebrow in question at me I couldn't refuse him any more than I had the first time.
When I slipped inside the tiny cramped bathroom, I almost imagined that I could still smell the musky aromas of our first visit. Although that could have something to do with the fact that Billy was sitting on the toilet seat, his small perfect hands were already wrapped around his erection, his thumb brushing across the slick tip. I locked the door behind me and leaned back against the door, briefly closing my eyes. I was so fucking stupid. I couldn't be the good time slut everyone expected me to be. Not this time. Not with him.
But then again I couldn't help myself either. He was here and was practically edible and obviously wanted me as much as I wanted him, so why not take advantage of the situation right? Just because my heart wouldn't leave itself out of the equation was no reason to give up the pleasure that he had and would give, was it? I unbuttoned my jeans and watched him stroke himself, and as my jeans fell to my ankles and I stepped out of them. I straddled his thighs and kissed him. I couldn't say the words I that would tell him how I felt but I could show him. He knew exactly what to do. He licked his way down my chest and as I rode him he licked and sucked and nipped my nipples. I almost held it together this time. At least until he closed one rough hand around my erection. I must have looked like an oversexed teenager to him. Three tight-fisted strokes of that talented hand and I was gone. Thick pearly white strands of viscous fluid trickling down his belly as he came inside me. As I would have wiped the mess off his furry belly, he tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled my face down to his for a long hungry kiss.
When the plane landed I thought we'd go our separate ways until we had to start work, but I was wrong. After we'd collected our luggage, he grabbed me by the hand and dragged me and our suitcases after us towards a bathroom. Pulling me through the door our suitcases left in a jumbled heap blocking it as he pushed me up against the cold wooden wall. He pulled my head down to his, his tongue trailing around my ear before he spoke I could barely contain myself. His growling Scottish burr begged for me to fuck him. By the time it had registered in my lust-addled mind he had already dropped his trousers and fallen to his knees in front of me. Determined to make it good for him, I knelt behind him, the fingers of one hand tracing across the sweet curve of his ass as my other hand opened my jeans with trembling fingers.
I closed my hands on his hips and leaned down to nip and kiss at the firm white globes of his ass, my tongue dipping into the cleft to brush across his entrance and wring a strangled gasp from his lips. It was my turn to torment him, to wring a soul searing orgasm from him, and as I pushed my tongue into his body, he beat his fisted hands on the cold tiled floor and begged me to take him. Reaching around him I slipped my fingers into his mouth, groaning as he sucked on them as I wanted him to suck on my cock. Opening him quickly with now-slick fingers, I bemoaned the lack of lube, but nothing was going to stop us now. I pushed slowly into him, he didn't do this much I could tell, he was so tight and his body tensed and clenched around me as my thick length slid into him with the push-pull-scrape of a minimally lubed quick fuck. My whole body trembled as I fought to stay still and give him time to adjust, but it was useless when he pushed back onto me, our thighs flush, his ass fitting perfectly against my hips. He was muttering and moaning and begging me to move, to use him to make him feel this for days. Even as my fingers dug into his hips in a grip that would leave purple fingerprints for days, and my hips pistoned against his, pushing into the tight clenching heat of his body, I knew he might feel this for days, but I would feel it forever.
Reaching under him I closed my hand around his erection and stroked him leaning across his bac,k I pressed myself along the length of his body, desperately trying to meld as much of us together as I could. My lips pressed against his shoulder the sound of his broken, garbled brogue filled my ears, redoubling my efforts to make this the very best I could for him. Rising behind him I stroked him more quickly, my hand an iron fist around his throbbing erection as my other hand pulled him tighter against my body, each stuttering thrust into his body pounding against his prostate and pulling his knees from the floor with the power of my body's driving force.
As his release pulsed across my fingers and his body sprawled limply below me on the tiles, unable to even hold his own weight off the floor, aware too late of our lack of personal safety, I pulled out of his body and roughly fisted myself over him, gasping and slumping beside him on the floor as my own fluids cooled on the pale freckled skin of his back. Trembling breathlessly as I struggled to catch my breath, I let my fingers trace his ribs, watching him, eternally thankful I'd fallen to the side away from his knowing green gaze.
He turned his head, his flushed face pressed against the cool tiles as he looked at me. "You're bloody good at that mate." He spoke quietly, one hand lifted to touch my hair lethargically, "We need to do that again....a lot."
I couldn't do anything, and I probably looked like a right twat to him but all I did was nod, my throat closing convulsively on words I couldn't, wouldn't utter to anyone, not even myself.
We spent the weekend together; neither of us really wanted to be apart. In the two days we spent alone in Wellington, we became friends and in my mind at least went from fuck buddies to lovers. We didn't even leave the hotel room, we barely dressed. It would be a long time before my body forgot the feel of his, if it ever did, and I knew it would be the same for him.
We fucked and slept and talked and fucked again. We shared our pasts, and our dreams, our hopes for this project. We showered and fucked under the steamy hot spray of water. Everything in between was just an interlude until our bodies renewed themselves enough to fuck again and when the ache of our bodies was too great, we'd satisfy each other with mouths and hands. I'd never met anyone like him, his proximity, his voice, his mere presence was enough to make me want him always, and if truth be known forever.
When I woke on Monday morning, I couldn't help but feel sorrow. Today this would all end. Today the outside world was opening to us and we would be just a small part of a huge magical mystery. I woke first, my long arms wrapped around his smaller body, our legs entwined, his head in the curve of my shoulder, his morning erection pressed insistently against my hip. Pressing my lips to his forehead, I let one hand trail across his pale belly and wrap slowly around the hard flesh it found. His body was wanton, even as he slept, his head lolled against my shoulder, his soft whistling, snoring breaths never changed as he rolled away from me. On his back, his face slack in slumber, his skin pale enough that I could count the light dusting of freckles, I forgot all about the hot length of his arousal, my fingers lifted to trace the curve of his lower lip.
He mumbled something in his sleep and turned his face towards me on the pillow, his tongue flicking out to lick across the tips of my fingers. Dragging a deep silent breath into lungs that had ceased to function at the touch of his tongue, I drew back and drank in one final searching unobserved look at him. Something that I could store in my heart and my memories long after the project was finished, whether it sank or shone on its own merits, whether or not after the premiere we ever saw each other again, I would have this weekend and this moment.
His small yet strongly muscled body was laid out before me, naked, the only disfigurations, the finger sized markings on his hips and the rosy bruise just under his left nipple from where I had closed my mouth on his t-shirt-covered chest to save from screaming in ecstasy at his fingers stroking me as we rode up to our room in the elevator. His thick arousal lay against his belly, the tip already glistening, a string of sticky translucent fluid leaking onto his furry belly. His legs apart, thighs taut with the force of his arousal, knees bent wantonly, and even as I watched him, his hands closed into fists on the sheets beside him. Damn, whatever he was dreaming must be hot, and it had better be about me.
Without thinking, well maybe just a little bit, but I'm supposed to the vapid pretty one right? I knelt beside him and with my eyes never leaving his face I closed my mouth around the tip of his arousal and sucked for all I was worth. Both his hands lifted to tangle his fingers in my short hair, and as my mouth sank lower on his cock, my throat opened around the thick swollen head. His eyes opened slowly and held my gaze as I sucked him like my life depended on it.
Lifting one hand to run along his forearm to the back of my head, I pulled his hand away from my head I laced my fingers through his, never missing a beat as my mouth slid up and down his erection. His hips arched up to meet my mouth, incomprehensible Gaelic babble tumbling from his lips as he fought against the climax I could feel racing through his blood. With my free hand I lifted the taut, furry weight of his balls, rolling them slowly in my fingers, one finger brushing across his perineum as I did. His body arched up bowstring-taut under me and his cock pulsed against my tongue; thick, salty globs of fluid hitting the back of my throat as I kept sucking him. Releasing him as he grew limp in my mouth I crawled up the bed to lie on the pillow beside him and just watch him, the fact that my own hard on was pressed painfully into the mattress didn't register, I just needed him, there.
I'm not sure what I had been expecting but having him push me onto my back hadn't been even in the realm of possibility. Our fingers still laced together, palms pressed together sweatily, his eyes heavy lidded and slumberous, he rolled with me, straddled me, his knees clasping my hips as he lowered himself onto my erection. As I watched his eyes clench in momentary pain at my body's intrusion, I wanted to grasp his hips and lift him off me and prepare him properly, but I couldn't. He fit me so well, nothing else mattered but feeling him clasped so tightly around me, my hand tightened on his enough to whiten my knuckles, my other hand closing on his thigh, gripping the firm flesh desperately as I thrust uncontrollably up into him. My teeth pierced my own lip as I bit down into it to stop myself screaming words neither of us needed to hear as I climaxed.
The rest of our time together that morning was a blur after that. We showered, separately, almost as if we couldn't trust ourselves not to behave. Then set off for our first morning at a project we had both somehow realized was going to change our lives, in a big or a small way we weren't quite sure, but neither of us were really prepared for what did happen. Not after the weekend we had spent.
When we broke for lunch instead of going with the others to the catering tent that was already fully functionally, Billy's eyes met mine across the room and we instead opted on collecting some sandwiches and taking his car away for an hour or so. The morning had been about two notches higher than overwhelming for me and I wanted to swap notes with him and I'd be lying if I were to say that I didn't want to feel him inside me, just once more.
Parked in his rental car, it took us minutes to wolf down the sandwiches he'd charmed from the caterers, we talked about the people we'd met that morning, but as soon as we'd finished eating, that was where my concentration checked out. People we'd met? What people? His hands were on my jeans and I could have spent the morning trapped in a room with all four Beatles and I wouldn't remember. Funny, I hadn't thought about that band in my life before him and knowing they're his favourite band, I suddenly have them residing in my head. How fucking weird is that? His hands on my clothes were all it took for my complete and total submission. I scrambled to get my jeans and shorts off, already so hard I whimpered when he touched me. I clambered through the gap in the seats, and lay down on the back seat, grabbing his belt buckle and pulling it open as he climbed into the back as well. Pulling down his zipper I freed his erection and wrapped my fingers around him, rubbing my thumb back and forth across his slit. My own breath hitched at the way broken growls tumbled off his lips with every touch of my fingers. And then he pressed his fingers against my entrance and I was his, mind body and soul, I couldn't even remember my own name as his fingertips brushed back and forth over my prostate. My knees pulled up tight against my chest, my body open to him, my climax started in my toes and made my entire body wind itself tight in and around itself.
"Billy, Billy. I wanna.... Billy, will you... keep fucking me?" I groaned. Jesus Christ, so much for any fucking scrap of dignity I might have held onto.
"Fuck, yeah," he growled in that sexy voice of his. "Fuck you so hard you come screaming my name." And I did. I threw back my head and screamed as my release pulsed against the t-shirt I hadn't bothered to remove. Fuck it all, now they'd all know what we'd been doing. But, I didn't care, I'd do it all again in a minute, hell if we could both get it up again quick enough, I would, literally, not figuratively.
As the sweat cooled upon our skin, and I brushed halfheartedly at the sticky mess on my t-shirt, I had to explain my question. So I turned to speak to him.
"I meant, will you still wanna fool around when we really start getting into filming? I mean.... Shite. Would you want something more permanent, like.... Fuck, Billy, would you go out with me sometime, like on a date?"
I could tell he was a little taken aback. He casually tossed the used condom out the window and zipped his trousers before he spoke. "Orlando. Orli, I don't know. I don't really date coworkers. Not seriously."
I couldn't help the petulant frown. From the way his eyes darkened I could tell that the only thing currently on his mind was my lips wrapped around his cock, my voice sounded whiny even to me when I spoke again. "But you'll fuck them?"
"Well, yeah, that's just two people getting off, no strings. Just a bit of fun, remember?"
Any other answer I could have dealt with, and yeah I know I'm not so much with the macho, but I'm not a girl either. That comment, well, that brought the sharp sting of tears to my eyes. I had to get out of that car and the smell of 'us' and his fucking accent and those sympathetic green eyes that made me want him even more even when I should be hating him.
"Yeah, I remember. I've gotta run. I've got a script meeting with Peter and Fran in half an hour." I flung the car door open and almost fell out in my haste to get out of there. I had to get away. I walked for a handful of steps before I broke into a run and rounded the corner of the building and away from him.
Sitting against the side of the building, my knees drawn up against my chest, the ache in my body was matched only by the ache in my heart. I wanted to cry but I couldn't, not without giving our relationship away. And no matter how much I hated him right then, I knew he was right. It wasn't the smart thing to do. He wasn't being a bastard, he was just being smart. I could see it in his eyes, he wasn't as indifferent as he would have me believe. He was being strong enough for both of us. If anything his resolve made me love him even more.
Fuck! When did the L word get a mention? I didn't want to love him. I'm damned sure that I never signed on the dotted line to make three movies and fall in love, especially not with the first person I met. Yeah, I like him, yeah he's probably the best shag I've ever had. Pfft. Probably? At least be honest with yourself you great tosspot, you've loved him since the first time in the plane. You knew he was different and you haven't been fucking him you great big girl, you've been making love with him.
Breathing deeply, I stood and wiped my hand over my tear heavy eyes, trying to stop my brain having it's own internal fucking argument. Taking my shirt off, I pulled my t-shirt over my head, then put my shirt back on buttoning it quickly. Walking back towards the building, there was something going on inside, so I stopped at Billy's car and tossed my tee shirt on his trunk, to collect later, then continued in to see what all the fuss was about.
The sound they heard from me when I walked into the room where most of the cast that was there that day had assembled? That was the sound of my heart breaking. I knew the moment I saw them, that Billy had gone and done exactly what I had. Yet even as his eyes met mine apologetically across the room I still couldn't blame him.
I knew I'd lost him the minute I saw the way he was looking at the last of the hobbits to arrive. Dominic Monaghan had stolen his heart as surely as I had lost mine to Billy the moment our eyes had met across the departure lounge at Heathrow.
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