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Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial, non-profit work of fiction under the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged or condoned by the persons whose names are used without permission.

Near Yet Far

Author: sassywitch
Original Story: WIP DomBillando by foxtales
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Billy Boyd/Dominic Monaghan
Rating: NC17
Summary: Orlando is too far from the one that he loves.
Notes: I liked this story the first time I read it, but I really wanted to see it from Orlando's POV.
Post-reveal Notes: Many thanks to my beloved beta celtprincess13 and softbluebuddy who made this readable for y'all. And I couldn't have done it without the constant prodding and love from billyhasmyheart and hisniblets and the support of alassenya.


Orlando walked slowly across his hotel room, pulling his black t-shirt from unbuttoned jeans, over his head and onto a plush leather chair in the corner of the room. Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, he mentally calculated the time difference and sighed. Long fingers scratched his gritty skin, tangling in tousled curls as he finger-brushed dry sand away.

The day had been long and arduous. His back ached, the glare of the sun on the golden sand had given him a headache, his skin itched and he was embarrassed and angry at himself for fucking up his lines in the last scene of the day. The air had hung dry and hot; the occasional wisp of even hotter air kicking up flurries of fine sand that clung to his sweat-dappled skin like a cloak he couldn't shake off. But it was more than that, he was preoccupied and distracted and that was unforgivable on any film set, let alone one this size.

Pushing rumpled, ill-fitting jeans down his legs, he left them in an untidy knot as he walked into the bathroom. Turning the shower spigots, he sat heavily on the closed toilet lid and watched his reflection idly. Smoky, kohl-rimmed eyes he didn't recognize watched absently as clouds of steam filled the small room. Tanned fingers reached out to trace the image of the character he hadn't taken the time to erase, but it faded too quickly, as condensation clung to the mirror and obscured the stranger from his view.

Shaking himself from his lonely reverie, he stood and stepped into the shower cubicle. Leaning his weight against folded arms he let the hot water cascade over the tense muscles of his back and shoulders. The rivulets of water caressed his aching muscles like massaging fingers of warmth, unfurling the knots that his spine had tied.

Leaning back, he let the water rinse through his hair, the gritty residue of his day washed away as he did. Tilting his head from side to side, he listened to the clicks and groans of his spine realigning, the warmth of the steamy shower enclosure turning his muscles to molten caramel and easing the grip pain held over his existence.

As the steaming intensity of the water eased, Orlando turned and squeezed some gel onto a loofah, quickly performed his ablutions and washed the grit from his hair. Turning off the water and stepping out of the cubicle, Orlando wrapped a towel about his hips and grabbed another to dab at his hair as he left the bathroom. Almost tripping over the sweaty lump of his denims, he kicked them to land in a sandy heap in front of the chair that haphazardly wore his t-shirt.

Walking across the room, he stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows, his weary brown eyes barely registered the beauty of the landscape he surveyed. His hands idly rubbed at his wet hair, flicking droplets of water across the room as he did.

Glancing back at the clock, he sighed in impatient longing. The man he loved was an ocean away, on a different continent, in a different time zone, in a different bed with the man that he loved.

Shaking his head to throw off the sudden melancholy that shrouded him, he dropped the towel and sank to lie on the firm, comfortable bed that had been his solitary home each night for the last month and would be for at least one more.

Reaching out to lift his phone from the bedside table, he dialed a familiar number.

The tinny sounds of the phone ringing seemed loud to his ears. His thumb hovered over the disconnect button as the phone continued to ring.

"h-hullo," Dominic's breathy whimper told him everything he needed to know.

They had started without him.

Feigning sympathy, Orlando inquired about Dom's welfare before he closed his eyes and imagined the scene on the opposite side of the Atlantic.

In his mind's eye, he could see them as clearly as if they were in this very room with him. Dom would be flung out across the rumpled bed. His bed was always rumpled, the slattern never made his bed, and they would definitely be in Dominic's bed. Dominic could never be quiet. He was loud and unrestrained and vocal. Quite the opposite of Orlando himself, no matter how much he knew that Billy loved Dom's 'screamer' qualities, he couldn't comply. So Billy's hotel room would be out of the question for this little encounter.

The phone would soon be forgotten because Billy wouldn't make it easy for his young lover. He would tease him mercilessly until the phone and his own distant connection would be erased from Dom's consciousness as Billy's lips closed around the more than ample mouthful of Dominic's erection and stole his focus.

Long ago Orlando had decided that if he couldn't have all of his lover's heart he would have whatever he was willing to give, and that was this strange little 'menage-a-trois' which was, if nothing else, as satisfying as hell. So here he lay, listening to his lovers, one probably still fully dressed, kneeling between the outspread legs of the other one, who in counterpoint was probably completely, brazenly naked from the first hint of an invitation.

Not that he, himself, wouldn't drop trou at the possibility of an invitation from the sweetest rosebud lips, talented tongue and soul stealing suction the world would ever know, but Dominic was a slut like that.

Garbled words of pleasure, guttural moans and buzzing static only confirmed his earlier predictions. Dominic had succumbed to mind-numbing pleasure and dropped the phone onto the mattress beneath as Billy teased him with perfect suction and flicking tongue.

As Orlando's own hand drifted to his half-hard cock, his fingers slowly caressing the awakening flesh, he strained to listen to the liquid sounds of pleasure Billy's perfect mouth was lavishing on his young lover.

Hearing the guttural tones of Billy's brogue demanding that Dom resume their conversation, he smiled. He could hear the desperate pleading need in Dom's whining exclamations.

Even as Dominic returned his distracted attention to the phone, Orlando spoke, his voice deep and thick as he demanded Billy's presence if only to hear that sex-filled voice directed at him.

He could almost see Billy's eyebrows lifting at his slightly unusual and toppy request, but he didn't care. Dominic had Billy there, in front of him in his rumpled denim, his breath hot on Dominic's sweat flushed skin, his lips sucking Dominic's soul out through his dick. Orlando was desperate to have some of that attention bestowed on him.

Orlando couldn't stop the hoarse need in his voice. "Will you finish him, Billy? Please? So I can hear?"

The voice in Orlando's head couldn't help but wish that it was his erection sliding between Billy's lips; instead he was on the other side of the world listening to what should be his.

His Billy, however, knew him well. Even as his hand tightened on his cock, he could hear Dom straining for the release that only Billy could give him, and as Orlando begged, Billy laughed, the husky sound filled with the lust that deepened his brogue to guttural, passionate sounds of covetous hunger.

Billy put the phone on loudspeaker, his ears strained to hear every noise, every touch in the room that he longed to be in.

He heard Dom whimper and a shiver of anticipatory longing skittered down Orlando's back. His mind couldn't help but picture his reunion with his lover. He need the smaller man's discipline like he needed oxygen and he missed him desperately.

Every sound transmitted from his phone sent a shiver of longing through Orlando's body. His long fingers tightened on his painful erection, tugging and twisting, desperate to share the sensations that Dominic was receiving.

He could hear Dom's panting, gasping breaths, his garbled pleading for satisfaction. He was sure that he could hear the slick wet heat of Billy's mouth sliding along Dom's erection, the touch of his pinching fingertips on Dom's nipples. God, how he wanted his Billy.

Orlando knew that Billy was teasing Dom's release with every broad flat stroke of his tongue. His own breath stuttered as his hips began to push roughly up to meet his hand, body begging for his own release. Release that only Billy could bring him with just one word.

Normally a quiet lover, Orlando couldn't help himself, as he stroked and pulled at his thick erection, he begged and pleaded for the release he needed so desperately. He let the phone fall to the mattress beside his head, and lifting his legs, trailed his free hand across his belly and lower, briefly fondling and twisting his bollocks before reaching lower and brushing the tip of one finger across his entrance. The tip of his finger pressed inside and he groaned. His whole body thrummed with the pleasure that danced across every nerve ending just beneath his skin, but without Billy's permission would never be.

"Billy, God, please..." Orlando moaned his voice barely more than a guttural whisper of desperation and longing.

Orlando could hear Billy licking his slick lips, his voice almost quiet as it spoke three simple words that hung in the air of both rooms as it preceded a firestorm of emotion and physical reaction.

Hearing Dom sobbing with relief, the grunts of soul deep pleasure rang loudly in his ears as he listened to Billy wetly drawing even more pleasure from Dom's body and it pushed him over the edge.

His hips arched up as his release pulsed across his stomach and thighs. The sensations of his orgasm skittering across his body like fireworks across a night sky. His skin prickled with sensation, his eyes closed as he relaxed against the bed.

Already tumbling headlong into the contented slumber of satisfaction, the last words he heard were from his lover's lips.

"Goodnight, Orlando, sleep well."


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