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TITLE: Drowning is Like This
AUTHOR: Jenwyn (email)
ORIGINAL STORY: The Morning Comes by Mirorelle
PAIRING: Orlando/Billy
DISCLAIMER 1: This is a work of fiction, featuring characters with the names of real people. The story itself is made up. Not real. Never happened. Not implying anything. Pure fiction.
DISCLAIMER 2: This fic was done for the Lotrips Remix Challenge, and is a rewrite of the original story cited above. The boys are their own, the fictional idea is Mirorelle's; only the words here are mine.
SUMMARY: Orlando and Billy wake up to the morning after.


Sleep is heavy inside Orlando, filling him up and weighing him down and somehow he's floating on it, too. Floating in it, heavy and light and overwhelmed; consumed by, subsumed into sleep. Nothing but sleep, oh yes.

Except, no. Because he's thinking of sleep now. He's aware of it. Something is making him aware, and he becomes aware of something - something that isn't sleep, something that is trying to pull him up from sleep and he knows, part of him, that the time for sleep is over, that it's better not to sleep, there's so much more than sleep, so much to awaken to, so much to live for... but he wants sleep. To sink down, into sleep, to be one with sleep. So easy to give in, and drowning must be like this, giving over, giving in...

But something isn't letting Orlando drown. Soft soft soft, too soft to be denied: fingers, lips, soft and unsleepy, dragging on his skin, waking up his skin:

"Why won't you let me sleep?" Orlando murmurs, eyes closed, body still, voice awakened but low and heavy with sleep, oh sleep...

Wet and warm, breath and touch along the edge of his ear, coaxing Orlando to the edge of wakefulness and Orlando wants to roll over, roll away and curl deeper into sleep; wants to roll closer, into that wet warm mouth, curl his tongue round...

Stretches into a roll, opens one sleep-heavy lid: "Billy..."


Sleep-laden lips curve up into a smile as his eye falls shut again. Billy. Billy's lips smiling, too, and now Billy's fingers on Orli's awakened skin, waking him more, reaching through his skin to wake him inside; waking up a moan, uncurling it from Orlando's belly and drawing it up through his throat and out, trailing remnants of sleep, in a vibrating whisper.

Orlando reaches, fingers curling around fingers, and brings Billy's hand to his mouth. The taste of Billy's skin, sweat and sex and sleep on Billy's fingertips, awakens Orlando more. Kisses and awakens.

And then: kiss: Billy's mouth on his mouth, breathing into him, and Orlando breathes, warm and moist and the taste of Billy, of sex and the night slept through and it's not bad, no: it's the taste of waking up.

Mouths part and Billy's eyes are open and looking at him, and since Orlando knows this, his eyes must be open, too. Waking up isn't easy for Orlando, never has been. He wants to sleep, even now - /kiss/ - so easy to close your eyes and sleep.

But he doesn't close his eyes. Instead, he opens his mouth: "Last night." Opening his mouth has always been easy for Orlando. Somehow it isn't now, now that he's done it.

"Yeah," Billy says, and grins, and doesn't close his eyes but he doesn't look at Orlando. He looks at his fingers on Orlando's skin, tracing outside and in reverse the path that Orlando's moan took inside: mouth to throat to chest to belly. Trailing down, not at his belly yet, mapping skin with touch, down and down and.

Stopped. Billy's fingers are stopped, and Orlando looks up from Billy's fingers and sees that Billy has looked up from them, too.

"Last night," Orlando says again, smiles again, "was amazing, man. You were fucking amazing."

Billy grins back. "Some pretty amazing fucking, wasn't it?" Big grin, yeah; but coming down a little uneven, coming out lopsided. Almost wry. Or something. Something that pokes at Orlando to wake him up.

"Yeah," Orlando smiles. "Yeah, it was." His smile softens, voice softens; not with sleep, not sliding back, just growing softer. "And it was - it was more than fucking. Wasn't it? I mean, that's part of what was amazing, you know?"

Billy's grin comes up again, flashes wide and open and even. "It was," he says. And Orlando catches the slight accent on 'was' even as Billy flops down beside him. Next to, not with, not touching.

"Is," Orlando says. Rolls onto his side, looks at Billy. "Will be."

Billy rolls onto his side too and kisses Orlando openmouthed, but there's no answer on his tongue.

Orlando says Billy's name into Billy's mouth, and Billy swallows it without tasting it, and Orlando pulls away. "Billy."

"Yeah," Billy says, like 'that's my name don't wear it out' and he leans in to kiss again.

But Orlando says his name again. Billy stops and Orlando thinks that one of them is going to have to be the girl here; there are things inside both of them, and if the things don't come out, words themselves will be ruined and the taste of every kiss will be spoilt, and they'll just be fucking without talking or kissing and Orlando's had that before, and that's not worth waking up for.

"You know I, like - have feelings for you. Right?"

"Right," Billy says. "'Course."

When Billy leans in this time, Orlando meets him openly. Tastes questions on Billy's tongue. Leaves his hand on Billy's neck when he takes his mouth away, massaging and ruffling Billy's hair. "But...?" Orlando prompts.

"But," Billy says. Stops. Eyes closed, looking inside himself, and Orlando wants to kiss him again, wants to give reassurance - but his lips might steal the words Billy is finding inside himself before he can give them to Orlando. And Orlando doesn't want anything stolen. So he touches and waits to be given.

And Billy looks at him and grins and shakes his head. Not like that's the answer. Like he can't believe he's here with Orlando, or can't believe Orlando is here with him. Like there's something unbelievable in all of this. Like it's unbelievable that Orlando, since he is here, would ask Billy this. Would want to know the answer.

Would not know it already.

Billy looks at Orlando and Orlando is here, looking at Billy and touching him and wanting all that - to be here and touch and listen to what Billy has to say.

"It's," Billy starts. He looks at Orlando looking at him and it gives Billy pause. Looks at Orlando and it makes him smile and, "Nothing," Billy says, at the same time that Orlando says, "Dom."

Billy looks at Orlando. And Orlando is here. Looking at Billy and touching him. "Aye," Billy says. "Dom."

Orlando nods and ruffles Billy's hair, massages his neck.

"It was," Billy says, careful of tense, "what happened..."

"What happened with Dom is not happening with me," Orlando says softly. He wonders if Billy is trying to hide his feelings for Dom from himself, or just from Orlando. He touches Billy's skin, touches surface; lets sleeping dogs lie.

Billy nods. Smiles. Like he knows it, what Orlando's said, or wants to. Like he wonders.

And Orlando wonders, too.

He wonders what happened between Dom and Billy. Wonders, really, what happened *to* them. They were supposed to be the perfect couple - and Orlando wonders if that's what went wrong: if they sank under the pressure of perfection, the weight of 'supposed to.'

Orlando's not sure what Dom and Elijah are supposed to be. He knows they're not sure, either. He thinks they're going to make it.

Orlando's not sure what he and Billy are supposed to be, either. He does know he and Billy aren't supposed to be perfect. Aren't even supposed to be. And they're not.

Not yet.

Orlando smiles, leans in and licks the smile onto Billy's lips. Doesn't kiss, just licks his smile onto Billy's lips until Billy is smiling, too. Licks Billy's jaw, licks Billy's throat, mouths his adam's apple, kisses Billy's swallow. Kisses the hollow of Billy's throat, his collarbone, his breastbone. Flicks his tongue over Billy's nipple; and again; and more. And more, and lower, Orlando's mouth and hands on Billy's body, going down, down...

Orlando kisses and licks and nips smiles onto Billy's skin until Billy is writhing with smiles, smiling and begging. And swallowing. Swallowing down desire and urging Orlando to come back up.

But Orlando keeps going down, because he wants to give this to Billy, the way that Billy gave so much to him last night; he wants to make this about Billy, the way that Billy made it about him last night. Wants this for them, to make this about them.

Orlando goes down and takes Billy with him. Goes down on Billy, takes Billy's cock in his mouth, takes Billy inside him; goes into Billy, moistened fingertip, a little rough, a little right. Strokes smiles onto Billy with his tongue, strokes smiles into Billy with his finger. Stroking and circling and smiling and spiraling, and Orlando feels it in his belly, deep down inside, warm wet spirals uncoiling, awakening. He slips down into the awakened spirals, slips down and down and takes Billy with him and Billy comes with him, giving in and giving over and drowning, oh yes, drowning must be like this...

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