Warnings: M/M, slash
Raiting: All over NC-17
Summary: Given the chance, would you erase someone from your mind?
Feedback: Please do. Keeps the Muse working.
Orlando went through my apartment, as if it was his. He poked my belongings, checked my fridge, and made himself coffee. He seemed to be at home in my flat, like he had been there before. I couldn’t but wonder had he gone through the file sent to him, had he listened to his own voice speak of things he could not remember. Had he cared about it, or had he come here to mock me? There was a strange look on his beautiful face, a look that didn’t suit him. It was as if pained, but he seemed to be the master of that pain. I had not been able to speak until this moment, until now that I no longer could stay silent.
“How did you find me?”
“Your address and phone number were in my file.” He simply said, placed his mug on the table and tilted his head, as if stretching his lean muscles. I sighed. Even that gesture was full of grace. I felt clumsy, and crossed my arms on my chest as if to protect myself.
“Why did you come here? Why didn’t you just call?”
“ If I’d called you might have told me not to come. I wanted to see you. The guy downstairs seems to know me, remember me. He said hi and wished me a happy Valentines Day. I think he’s your friend.”
“What, Petey? Yeah. He must have known you, had you ever come by.”
“Apparently I lived here, with you.”
Silence. I couldn’t say anything. The whole room was so thick with uncomfortable silence I was sure we could cut it with a knife. Orlando took a tape from his pocket, walked to the stereos in the corner and, after frowning at my tape, put it in and pressed play.
“You must forgive me for the rude language. I think I was pretty angry at you when I said these things.”
I nodded, slowly. The tape clicked and I heard the familiar hum before the words poured out. I felt a chill while listening the words.
“He is bore, honestly! I moved to bloody America to follow him, to be with him, yeah? I left my home for him. All he could do was sit on his ass and paint all day long. Paint! I don’t know anything about art! How am I supposed to be interested in something I don’t know anything about? He never even tried to let me in on that, and if he did, he sounded like a fucking history teacher! Like I give a shit! So, I want to go out, I want to live. He moans because I go out with this mate of mine, Elijah, yeah? I met him there, a cool bloke, I really liked him. So we went out to dance and shit, and Viggo moans like a fucking old woman because I want to do something else than sit and watch him paint. He is such a fucking old man he is! I think he died years ago but he never noticed, because he is as boring dead as he was alive! I thought he was cute at first, you know, sensible and stable and caring, but he’s a bloody bore!”
I looked up to face Orlando’s eyes, and he had an apologetic look in them. I shrugged; my words had not been prettier.
“He just went on and on about how I must calm down and settle down and change this and change that and be this and be that, you know, now why the hell did he want me if all he wanted to do was mold a person he wanted me to be and not be with me? So, I ended up… snogging my mate. Elijah. He’s not boring or old and he doesn’t think I’m a slut. That’s what Viggo called me every time we had a fight. He said I tried it on with everyone so I could make them like me! I was bloody insulted. I’m a flirtatious person, he knew that when we first met. Shit. So I went out with Elijah again, after a little blow out with Viggo, yeah? I ended up trying to suck his brains out through his mouth, if you know what I mean. And I did tell Viggo, I told him that I did that, I came clean. And he shouts at me, puts his shit on me, you know. So I left.”
Orlando paused the tape.
“I think it’s better you don’t listen to more shit on this tape. It’s not gonna help the issue.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too.” Orlando walked to me, cupped my head with his soft, tender hands, leaned forward and his landed his full, luscious lips on mine.
I surrendered. I felt his tongue swipe across my lips, as if asking for entrance, and I yielded. I opened my lips and sighed of pleasure when he kissed me deep. Orlando sighed as well, his hands wrapped around my shoulders, as if he shielded me. I pressed myself against him without any coherent thought, without any possibility to fight back. How could I have ended up hating this creature that provided such deep pleasure with a mere kiss?
When our lips parted, I felt like a fish on dry land, gasping for air and my sight was blurry.
“You see?” He purred in my ear, biting the lobe softly.
“We ended up hating each other.”
“True.” He said, drawing small circles down my neck with his tongue.
“What makes you think we won’t do that again?” I really didn’t know why I bothered arguing.
“The fact that even erasing our memories couldn’t keep us apart. I think we are meant to be together.” He said, locking his eyes to mine. “Sure, I’ll get bored and feel trapped, and you’ll think I’m irresponsible and not in control, but we can work on it.”
“What if we repeat the same mistakes we’ve done already?”
“Sweetheart, we’re bound to do so. But we’ll work on them. I promise that I will never erase you again, even if things get tough.” He smiled and placed a soft kiss on my brow. “Now what do you say” He whispered into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “You shut up and let me show you what you should have missed?”
I was done arguing. Orlando pushed me against the table behind me, his tongue penetrating my lips with force. He was a lot stronger than his skinny form made him out to be. A lot stronger and a lot more aggressive. His hands found their way under my shirt, tugged it up and I felt his lips leave mine, and press against my exposed chest. My eyes were squeezed closed so tight I was afraid I would get a headache.
“I would have loved to miss you.” I mumbled, when his tongue draw a circle around my navel. “I would love to remember you.”
“We’ll make new memories, old man.” He replied, bit the soft flesh of my stomach and his quick fingers tore my trousers open.
I tried smiling, but my lips formed a blissfully pained ‘o’ as I felt his lips close around my member. Obviously, he knew what he was doing. He circled his tongue around the tip before swallowing its whole length, allowing me to thrust myself even deeper. I looked down, met his eyes. There was a dark hunger in them, which made me want to grab that silky, curly hair of his. He pulled away, getting quickly on his feet, kissing me again like a hurricane, taking me over like no one had done before.
But I felt as if Orlando was in a rush, like he really wanted to prove to me, that he was worth keeping. He didn’t need to prove anything to me. Anyone, who could make me love them enough to make me so angry at them, deserved another, or technically a first, chance.
“Go slowly.” I gasped, when he turned me to face the table and bended me over it. “I want to feel you.”
There was a short pause, but them I felt a tender kiss on my neck, and hands sliding down my sides. I heard a click of a belt as it opened, a little rumble as his trousers fell to his ankles.
He was a lot softer, more tender, loving than before, as I felt his slick fingers press against my opening. I could smell the fragile scent of vanilla, and smiled. The boy had picked up my lube while going through my stuff.
The smile quickly changed to a moan of pleasure as I felt one finger push inside. It was soon followed by another, both moving in and out in synchronized movements. I let out a small moan, which made the lips again pressed against my neck curve into a small smile. I was ready for him, I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anything else. It didn’t matter whether I had felt like this before, I felt it now.
I felt him press himself against me, slowly pushing himself into me, holding back with a masterful willpower, something I didn’t possess. I pushed myself against his member, crying out loud of pain and pleasure it caused. He made a small hiss, as he started to move inside me, slowly, sensuously. His teeth sank into my neck, as if to hide the moan escaped his lips.
“I think I love you.” He whispered with a stretched voice.
“I think we never stopped.” I gasped as he hit my prostate.
As I came close to how much I could take, I felt him come close to the edge as well. I felt his hand reach for my crouch, his fingers wrapping around my achingly hard member, starting to stroke it in time to meet his thrusts.
It didn’t take me too long to come, and my whole lower body pulsing drove him over the edge as well.
He leaned against me, unable or willing to move, panting. I lifted my head enough to place a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Would you stay with me?” I whispered, as if afraid it would break the moment.
“Hell, my bags are waiting at the door.” He smiled, devilishly.
“You want to repeat the same mistake you did the first time?”
“Old man, that must have been my favorite mistake. If I can get this every night, I don’t give a shit how bad of a mistake it is.”
I smiled. Come what may, I thought, and surrendered into the hugest cuddle I ever had.
“Now. Who is going to clean up that mess on the table?” Orlando asked, quickly hopping like a little rabbit into the shower, laughing. I shook my head. The house felt more alive already.