Summary: The boys frolic
Disclaimer: This is fiction. I know nothing about these gentlemen except that I am hot for them, and this is only a twisted reflection of that hotness. No profit is made, and no disrespect is intended.
Notes: For Jeanine. Always.
"Jesus," Elijah hissed on the exhale, his breath whooshing out of him as Dom landed on top of him. He was fucking heavy! His water pistol flipped out of his hand on impact (motherfuck! he thought viciously) and he could hear Dom laughing delightedly, could feel it in fact, vibrating from Dom's chest to his own. He hadn't even seen Dom coming.
"I've got you," Dom growled, shifting to pin Elijah more firmly. "Surrender, you tosser."
Elijah considered. Orli, the other "cop," was nowhere to be seen. As the lone American, Elijah had been drafted into the bad guy role – he didn't mind, being the bad guy was fun for a change – while Dom and Orli played cops to his robber.
It was foolish and juvenile, but it was also a blast. Elijah liked Dom and Orli enormously, for which he was profoundly grateful. He'd done shoots before where he never got close enough to anyone to call them friends, and he hadn't particularly liked it. This was much better.
"Surrender," Dom demanded again, and pushed the plastic, neon-pink barrel of his water pistol against the underside of Elijah's jaw, forcing Elijah's head slightly back. Elijah could smell the beer the pistol was 'loaded' with, and the smell woke up the memory of its flavor on his tongue, sourbitter and mellow.
Dom's eyes were narrowed on Elijah's face as Elijah considered his options. His own pistol (neon green) had landed about two feet too far away, so that was out of the question. Maybe he could… Dom pushed the muzzle a little harder against the hinge under his jaw – glaring at Elijah through slitted eyes, playing his role to the hilt – and Elijah tried to ignore the little thrill of heat that resulted from being thoroughly pinned under Dom, exacerbated by the weirdly erotic rush of having a toy gun pushed up into the tender flesh under his jaw.
What the hell, he thought. I am supposed to be the bad guy, right?
"Of course," Elijah lied, which just made Dom narrow his eyes further in skepticism. Elijah gave him a helpless look. "I give up. You've got me, Officer."
Dom gazed suspiciously at him for a few more seconds, then gave a grunt of satisfaction. "Orli," he called, twisting slightly to scan the edges of the clearing, where the trees grew thick and shadow heavy. Elijah took the chance that he would be distracted and off-balance from the way he was twisted, and bucked hard.
Dom tumbled to one side, letting out a shout of surprise, and Elijah scrambled away, kicking off the hand Dom was grasping at his knee with. He sprawled onto his belly when Dom didn't let go as expected, and scrabbled for the glint of bright green a few inches from his fingertips.
"Slippery little bugger," Dom cursed, and Elijah accepted the calculated risk that Dom would try to pin him full body rather than just grab him – based on the understanding that Dom chose to do almost everything full body, he was just that kind of guy – and rolled swiftly to one side. Dom oofed beside him, landing sprawled on the ground, brush and twigs crackling and complaining at his weight. Elijah hoisted himself quickly to hands and knees and grabbed Dom's belt as he tried to get back to his knees, yanking Dom down and falling on top of him. Dom was stronger (which he proved by twisting athletically around to face Elijah), but Elijah was on top, had leverage, and he was good at holding on. In a moment, he had Dom's wrists pinned.
Dom scowled up at him, leaves caught in his hair, while Elijah tried to work out how to get the neon pink water pistol out of Dom's hand without letting him go.
"Drop the gun," he growled, and yeah, the bad guy role was definitely more fun when he was on top.
"Fuck that," Dom spat, and bucked upward hard. Elijah had been waiting for that, though, and Dom couldn't get enough leverage to buck off an Elijah that was intent on clinging. Climbing wasn't the only reason they called him Monkey. He bore down harder on Dom's wrists, twisting a little, but Dom refused to let go of the pink plastic, and Elijah didn't dare try to hold both wrists in one hand. Even with leverage, Dom was stronger.
"My partner is still out there," Dom said flatly, observing Elijah through narrowed eyes.
"But he's not here," Elijah pointed out. "And I'm on top." Whups. He hadn't meant to phrase it quite like that.
Dom didn't seem to notice. "I've got the gun," he growled defiantly, chin jutting at a stubborn and thoroughly sexy angle.
Elijah had the momentary urge to lick Dom's jaw -- not exactly a new urge, but not one he had previously acted upon -- and suppressed it quickly. "But you can't use it," Elijah reminded him, and shifted again, seeking a more stable position.
"Neither can you," Dom argued, and bucked again, but only a little this time. Just checking out the new position, testing it for flaws. "It's a standoff."
"A lay off, maybe," Elijah countered, and when had their voices gotten so low? They hadn't fallen out of character, not quite. But the tone of things had definitely changed. It wasn't banter, like it might have been if it has just been Dom and Elijah fucking around. It wasn't laughing, snickering, harmless and meaningless flirting. It was rougher, soft, growly voices, innuendo laden, but in a semi-dangerous sort of way. When had the tension started?
And did he have a problem with this?
No, he decided. He definitely did not.
He rose up a little to run his eyes over Dom.
"What the fuck are you looking for?" Dom demanded gruffly.
"Handcuffs," Elijah lied. Yes. Being the bad guy was definitely fun. "Where are they?" They didn't have any, of course. It was too bad, really.
"Like I'm going to tell you," Dom sneered, but his lips were quirking slightly, veiled amusement. "Can't keep control of the situation on your own, then?" he taunted, and bucked again. Elijah hung on until Dom stopped, deeply tempted to bite him.
"I'm keeping control of the situation just fine," Elijah bit out. "Which would be why I'm on top, and you're fucked."
"Temporarily, maybe," Dom countered, and squirmed animatedly for a few moments, forcing Elijah to struggle to keep a hold of him, shifting positions once again to hook his feet over Dom's knees to keep Dom from using his legs to buck out of Elijah's grasp.
They were both breathing heavily when Dom finally went still again. Elijah was practically lying on top of Dom, their bodies connected at chest, belly, hips and thighs.
And Dom was either hard, or he had another water pistol in his pocket.
For a moment, they just looked at each other, both flushed and sweaty and panting from the struggle. Dom didn't say anything about Elijah's now rock-hard cock jabbing him in the stomach, and Elijah didn't say anything about Dom's erection, pressed equally tightly against his. If Elijah shifted two inches to the left, their cocks would be pushed together between them.
"Let go of the gun," Elijah muttered. When all else failed, fall back on the role. It was a form of defense he was well practiced at.
"Fuck you," Dom breathed, and Elijah watched Dom's pink tongue dart out and moisten his lips. For long moments, Elijah was completely captivated by those wet lips, and by the steely glitter of Dom's eyes. He didn't move. He was fairly sure the cop bravado had been a backhanded invitation, but not completely sure. And it would be embarrassing to be wrong, to say the least.
Dom chose that moment to make another bid for freedom, which Elijah hadn't really been prepared for.
Dom twisted and arched up, and Elijah's counter move was enough to bring their cocks into alignment. They both froze, Dom still arched awkwardly beneath Elijah, and Elijah thought: I am the bad guy, here. Then he was grinding down deliberately. Dom bit off a groan and shifted slightly before his body bowed in response, hard but accommodating.
"Not trying very hard to get away," Elijah whispered, mocking.
"Maybe I'm trying to lull you into a false sense of security," Dom gasped, hips rolling in a manner that struck Elijah as practiced. It was enough to make his eyeballs want to roll back into his head, anyway. Dom's fingers had loosened somewhat on the butt of his water pistol, Elijah noticed.
For the moment, he ignored it. It was beginning to look pretty fucking likely that he was going to score in the middle of the woods in New Zealand, and he had absolutely no complaints about the situation. He liked Dom, Dom was sexy as hell, and best of all he didn't seem to have a problem with being on the bottom. Elijah got just a little bit sick of having short and pretty mistaken for "bottom." Not that he had a problem with being on the bottom; Elijah was versatile. He just didn't like it to be assumed.
He studied Dom's face for a moment, checking for anything that might indicate that Dom wasn't up for this. He didn't find anything.
He bent to kiss Dom and pushed down with his hips at the same time. Dom kissed back, mouth open at once, tongue hot and quick. He tasted like beer (Elijah wondered how much of his 'ammo' Dom had drank) and kissed like he was starving, making beguiling little sounds of pleasure at the same time. His wrists twisted a little in Elijah's hands.
Elijah decided against letting go. Bad guys, he was sure, pressed the advantage. He tightened his hands around Dom's wrists, and Dom made 'mmmm'ing sounds into Elijah's mouth. Their breathing was very loud, and Dom's cock was very hot, pressed up against Elijah's. Nevertheless, Elijah was aware of the flicker of pink just at the top of his line of sight, still held loosely in Dom's cupped palm, and he took advantage of Dom's distraction to shift both of Dom's wrists into one hand. Dom could get out of it if he tried, but Elijah was rocking his hips purposefully against Dom's, grinding their cocks together quite deliberately (and Dom had his eyes closed and was rumbling appreciatively deep in his chest, yeah, Elijah wanted to be a criminal fucking mastermind when he grew up), and he doubted Dom would try. He snaked his free hand up and plucked the water pistol out of Dom's unresisting grasp.
Dom jerked, eyes snapping open. "Hey!" he objected, head tilted back to look up at his hands, as though to verify that the water pistol had indeed been removed from his possession. "Shite! You devious little…"
Elijah took great pleasure in shutting him up by pressing the muzzle of the plastic gun just under his jaw in the same spot Dom had jammed it against his jaw. Dom glared up at him. Elijah pressed a little harder. Hell yeah! Being the bad guy absolutely rocked!
"Okay," he said, not quite able to resist smirking down at Dom. "We're just going to sit up, nice and slow."
"You little fucker," Dom growled, but it was almost admiring. "My partner…"
"…Isn't here," Elijah interrupted. "So I suggest you do as I say, Officer Monaghan."
Dom nodded. Grudgingly.
Elijah slid backward slowly, maximum friction with minimum movement, getting his knees solidly under him. He was tense, fully expecting Dom to try something, but Dom didn't.
Dom was playing it real, moving carefully, no threatening motions, so Elijah did the same. He wouldn’t have objected if Dom had chosen to end the game with a grin and a kiss, but Dom didn't. And this was fun, too.
"Good," Elijah said, once they were both up on their knees and facing each other. They were still very close. Elijah could feel Dom's breath breezing across his cheeks. He resisted the urge to use the muzzle of the toy gun to push Dom's head back further so he could bite Dom's neck. That would be just begging to get the tables turned on him, and Elijah rather liked the tables just as they were. "Put your hands behind your head."
Dom complied, still using those exaggeratedly non-threatening motions.
"Good," Elijah said again. Dom's shirt had ridden up, showing a slice of flat belly and just the very bottom of his belly button. Dark hair trailed across his lower belly and vanished into his jeans. The bulge in his Levi's was still very much present. Elijah had to force his eyes away from it.
"Pervert," Dom said, observing him shrewdly. Dom's growly cop voice seemed to send happy messages straight to Elijah's cock.
"You," Elijah said, drawing the word out into a long, hovering vowel sound while he let the barrel of the toy gun slide downward, across Dom's collar bone, chest (deliberate brush of hard plastic against nipple), belly (press briefly against belly button), and then around the edge of the ridge visible in the crotch of Dom's jeans (Dom sucked in a breath with a hissing sound), "like it."
Dom said nothing, mouth set in a line, jaw clenched. His eyes were glittering intently, however.
Elijah would have liked to have really taken his time. He would have liked to lay Dom out in the dappled sunshine that sifted down through the treetops to speckle their skin with golden motes. Stretch Dom out on his back with his hands pressed up and out of Elijah's way. Test the limits of Dom's control over his vocal cords. Explore Dom's skin with his eyes and hands and mouth.
He didn't have the time, however. Sooner or later, Orli was going to track them down, and Elijah intended at least one fucking orgasm apiece before that happened.
So when he frisked Dom, he kept it strictly cop-show professional, hands moving quickly over his chest, arms, and thighs. Well. Mostly professional. It was possible that his hand lingered just a moment too long on the bulge at Dom's groin, was ever so slightly more caressing than was strictly proper. What the fuck. He was the bad guy. He didn't have to follow cop procedure.
"Put your hands together behind your back," he ordered brusquely.
Dom regarded him for a moment. "Why?"
"Because I said so," Elijah said. "And I have the gun." He nudged at the bulge in Dom's jeans with the muzzle of the water pistol as a reminder. Dom's eyes darkened and narrowed. Elijah grinned into his face and let his thumb curl out from around the toy gun to rove over the ridge in Dom's jeans.
"You won't get away with this," Dom said throatily, classic cop cliché, and Elijah's grin widened. He rather liked the sound of that.
"We'll see," Elijah purred back, and gave into the urge to lean in and lick along the crooked jut of Dom's jaw. Dom's breath was hothot against his cheek. Elijah could feel Dom's chest moving rapidly against his own. He could feel the thunder of Dom's heart. He tipped his head up to whisper directly in Dom's ear. "Now put your fucking hands behind your back, asshole." He was amused to feel Dom's jaw firm against his cheek, feel Dom's shoulders tighten and go back, and his breath still in his throat. But he did as Elijah said, and Elijah slithered around behind him, staying close, keeping contact wherever he could, including with the water pistol, sliding it up to Dom's belly under his shirt, and then around to the small of his back beneath the shirt, plastic to skin.
Dom's hands were just above the water pistol, loosely clasped but in motion, fingers curling and uncurling around each other.
"What are you doing?" he murmured. Elijah didn't answer. He tucked the gun into his waistband and caught Dom's wrists in both hands. "What are you doing?" Dom repeated, but softer this time. Huskier.
"I’m handcuffing you," Elijah told him, and watched Dom's hands ball into slightly unsteady fists. He circled thumb and forefinger cuffs around both wrists and pressed them together at the small of Dom's back. "Because you can't be trusted not to give me trouble."
It should have been funny, the pantomime handcuffs; the way Dom held his hands immobile when Elijah pulled his hands away. It should have been funny when, after a long moment, Dom twisted his hands behind him, curling the long, strong fingers of each hand around the opposite wrist.
It was not funny. It was possibly the hottest thing Elijah had ever seen. Possibly even hotter than actual handcuffs would have been. It was more deliberate, more… something.
Elijah looked at Dom's fingers curled around Dom's wrists tucked up at the small of his back and licked at his suddenly dry lips.
His own hands were trembling slightly as he shuffled on his knees back around to kneel facing Dom. He could feel the hard, cool plastic of the water pistol still jammed into his waistband, and he noted Dom's eyes dipping down to rest on the butt for a moment, but he ignored it. With his hands out of the way, Dom was basically at Elijah's mercy.
At his fucking mercy.
"Let's see what you've got," he murmured, and put his hands to work on the buttons of Dom's shirt. He wanted to be deliberate about it, teasing maybe, but he was increasingly aware of how long they'd been alone in this little clearing, and of how long they might have until Orli stumbled upon them, either by pure (bad) luck or intent, and he was too impatient to manage it. He snapped buttons out of their holes quickly, and when he'd gotten them all he shoved the shirt back and off Dom's shoulders. It slid down Dom's arms and bunched on top of his locked wrists, adding to the illusion of helplessness, making the imaginary cuffs more real, somehow.
"Well," Elijah said, feeling just as breathless as he sounded. Dom was flushed, neck, chest, and face. Sweat had sprung up at his temples and on his upper lip. His chest was smooth and slim, nicely defined, bulkier than Elijah's own without crossing the line into actual bulk. His nipples were small and dark and flat. Elijah's fingers seemed to be working pretty much under their own recognizance as they slipped along the ridges of Dom's collarbones, tracing the sharphard line of them, and then downward, brushing lightly across both nipples (Dom arched and made a soft, closed-mouthed sound, something that might have been a gasp if his lips had been open, his back a neat, sleek bow), then down the planes of Dom's belly, where dark, feather-soft hair trailed downward under the waist of his jeans. "Well," Elijah repeated in a whisper.
"Take your shirt off," Dom rasped, and Elijah ignored him, leaned in to taste the sweat at Dom's temple, and then flicked his tongue across Dom's upper lip. Dom's tongue curled hotly around Elijah's as he lapped at the salt-tang of sweat there, an almost kiss that sent urgent, electric want twisting deeply into Elijah's belly. His hands were on Dom's belt, working urgently, and Dom's breath against his mouth was fast and short. He was distracting Elijah's attention from the belt by arching up, hips in motion, brushing the denim-covered ridge of his cock against Elijah's moving fingers.
"Be still," Elijah hissed, and Dom responded by turning his face slightly to slam his lips into Elijah's full on, open, hungry mouthed kisses complete with sharp, demanding teeth on Elijah's bottom lip, making Elijah gasp, making his fingers pause on Dom's belt to clench and grip at the heat radiating from Dom's cock through his jeans.
"Quit fucking around," Dom growled, bucking up against Elijah's hands, and Elijah licked at the lips moving beneath his own, delighted at the feel of Dom's lips in motion. He could feel the little twist of a snarl on those lips, the same half-snarl he could hear in Dom's voice. Dom's voice shook when he spoke again, the sound of it translated into shivering vibrations against Elijah's lips and tongue. "Quit fucking around and do something."
The belt loosened under Elijah's fingers and he went to work on Dom's zipper. "That, yeah," Dom hissed. "Fucking do that, God." Elijah pulled back just enough to jerk Dom back up onto his knees from where he'd leaned back onto his own heels, and shoved jeans and boxers down around Dom's thighs. Then he pressed forward, and Dom went with it, back onto his heels with his hands braced behind him, close together (still cuffed, Elijah thought distractedly), body taut and hard and curved slightly upward from the position.
Elijah caught Dom's lips with his own and Dom's cock with one hand a scant instant later, and Dom twisted under him, hips jerking up demandingly while his mouth spit snarling, consonant-heavy sounds into Elijah's. Elijah's balance was precarious bent forward over Dom's body like this, but he had too many other uses for his left hand to use it to brace himself up against the ground. He slid it around the back of Dom's neck instead, forearm curled up between Dom's moving, shifting shoulder blades, helping to support Dom's weight because he could feel the tension in Dom's muscles, shifting and tight, as he tried to hold himself up against Elijah's full body assault. Dom's cock in his fist was heated and sweat-damp from its confinement in Dom's jeans, and Elijah firmed his grip, but was content to let Dom's twisting, thrusting hips do the work for now.
Elijah's cock was jerking in his jeans, objecting, no doubt, to the rather one-sided play going on, but Elijah was ignoring it rather successfully for the moment. He didn't know what he had thought he would do with Dom – at his motherfucking mercy – but he was fairly sure it hadn't been what he really wanted to do now that he found himself in the actual situation.
He wanted to suck Dom's cock. He wanted to fucking taste it, bitter musk of sweat and precome. He wanted to feel the heated push of it into his mouth and throat. Wanted to hear Dom groan, whimper, come.
He pulled back from Dom's lips to look at him, tightening his hand around Dom's cock, sliding his thumb over the slick head. Dom's head jerked back, eyes clenched tightly, lips still wet and slightly open as he moaned, and Elijah could feel the tension in his back and the shiver that jerked through him.
Fuck it. He could fuck Dom later.
He slid back off of Dom (Dom made a short, growling sound of objection, eyes opening to glare at Elijah), and didn't hesitate. Dom choked out something that Elijah couldn't be bothered to try and decipher as Elijah went down on him, right hand still tightly fisted at the base of Dom's cock to keep Dom from jerking up into his mouth too quickly and triggering his gag reflex (which he could feel Dom's hips attempting to do anyway, and he was glad he'd taken steps to avoid it).
Dom's cock was warm and thick, already leaking a steady, bitter stream of precome, and Elijah used it to his advantage, tightening his lips and curling his tongue around the slick shaft. "Fuck, Lighe, fuck," Dom groaned, and Elijah could feel himself groaning too, helpless not to with the feel of Dom's cock in his mouth and Dom's hips twisting petulantly under his restraining hands. He found a comfortable rhythm after only a few strokes, something he could work with in spite of Dom's distracting fucking commentary ("Fuck, fuck, oh Jesus fuck that's good." ) delivered in a hoarse voice that wavered between demanding and pleading, and managed to open his throat enough to take Dom in full length (Ha, that's fucking shut him up, he thought) without choking. Dom's sounds degenerated into something wordless, and his hips were moving only slightly now, letting Elijah do the work, so Elijah directed his left hand down to his own fly, fumbling at buttons with the sound of Dom's soft, wordless exclamations encouraging him.
It was easy to forget it was a game. With Dom's cock in his mouth and Dom's thigh shivering and bunching under his right hand, Elijah was pretty much oblivious to everything else. Dom smelled good, sweat and beer and clean laundry – a ridiculous combination to find so absorbing – and tasted fucking spectacular, salt tang of fresh sweat and arousal on clean skin. He sounded amazing, too, uninhibited, growling lust sounds that sent shiverbright sparks of lust to Elijah's cock. It was easy to forget that they were outside, not someplace completely private, easy to forget that they weren’t even technically alone.
So Elijah was genuinely surprised at the sound of Orli's voice from pretty much directly behind him.
"Honestly, Monaghan," Orli sneered, and Elijah's belly contracted and flipped in dismay. His fingers stopped fumbling at his fly, and for a moment he didn't move a muscle, bent nearly double over Dom's lap, Dom's cock in his mouth.
Dom was apparently too far gone to care one way or the other about Orli. When Elijah pulled back, releasing Dom's cock, Dom barked: "For fuck's sake, Elijah, don't fucking stop!"
It would have been funny in other circumstances. Or extremely fucking sexy. At the moment, Elijah was too uneasy about the look he might see on Orli's face when he turned to find it either of those.
He didn't get the chance to turn, though. As he started to unfold himself into an upright position, something hard and cool pressed against the heated skin at the back of Elijah's neck. He froze, still half-hunched over Dom's lap (right hand curled around the base of Dom's cock), frowning, and for a long moment, he genuinely had no idea what it was.
He glanced up at Dom, and froze again at the half-smirk curling Dom's lips and the heavy-lidded satisfaction glittering in his eyes.
"I'll just take that," Orli murmured, his voice very close to Elijah's ear.
Take what? Elijah thought, but then he felt Orli's arm slide around his waist, Orli's hand pluck Dom's pink water pistol out of the waistband of Elijah's jeans. Oh. That. And he was still sort of flailing mentally, or he might have figured it out right then.
As it was, it didn't really become clear until Orli said: "Leave you alone for five fucking minutes, Monaghan, and you're slutting about with criminals. Planning to leave this bit out of your report, are you?"
"Fuck you," Dom grumbled. "Like you'd have stopped him, Orli. You like the pretty ones." Dom was still making glittering blue-grey fuck-me eyes at Elijah, though, and his cock throbbed in Elijah's fist.
"Whatever," Orli said dismissively. "I wouldn't be handcuffed, anyhow."
Which made Elijah shift slightly, abruptly curious as to how long Orli had actually been nearby. Long enough to have witnessed the handcuffing bit? Surely he couldn't have extrapolated that from just Dom's position? But he didn't turn his head to look at Orli. The muzzle of the water pistol was still pressed firmly to the back of his neck, and the fact that it was a harmless toy did nothing to decrease the effect of it's message: Don't move, don't turn around.
"He's a tricky little bastard," Dom said, slightly defensive, but Elijah didn't miss the slight shift of Dom's hips, the subtle slide of Dom's cock within the circle of Elijah's fist.
What does the bad guy do, when he's caught going down on one cop by the other? Seriously, Elijah was pretty sure he hadn't ever read or seen anything that might indicate the appropriate villainous response to such a situation. Also, he couldn't quite be sure that Orli was up for this without seeing Orli's expression. It seemed that way; at least, he hadn't run screaming or simply stayed away to begin with, and he was still playing it up, just like Dom, still playing the cop, but… Elijah was going to have to work with both of them for the next year, at least. He genuinely had no wish to make either of them uncomfortable.
On the other hand, Orli must have seen what was going on as soon as he'd set foot in the little clearing, if not before. He could have stayed back, could have either taken himself far enough away to have pretended never to have seen it, or even watched and pretended the same, if he'd wanted to. He hadn't been forced to join them. And Orli was a big boy. He could make his own decisions. He certainly didn't need Elijah doing it for him.
And there was still the matter of Dom's cock in Elijah's hand, still hard enough to pound nails, and the fact that Dom's hands were still securely folded behind him, as though Dom wasn't ready to give up the game yet. Elijah almost snorted aloud at that idea. Of course Dom wasn't ready to give it up. If Elijah was any judge -- and he was -- Dom had been pretty fucking close to losing it when Orli had interrupted them.
And, hey, there was a thought. Orli wasn't stupid, not by a long shot. It seemed pretty fucking likely that Orli would have noticed that as well. Maybe his knowledge of the impending event wouldn't have been based on anything as intimate as Elijah's (if he really concentrated on it, he thought he could summon the feel of Dom's cock jerking rhythmically against the roof of his mouth, the sound of Dom sucking breath frantically, the pulse of the big vein along the underside of Dom's cock against his hand and against his tongue, and what the fuck had he been thinking about again?), but Dom had been moderately vocal, too, and it had to have been fairly obvious.
Yeah. So, like, based on available data, Elijah was just going to have to conclude that Orli had interrupted just then very much on purpose. And if that was the case, then…
…then we keep playing, Elijah thought, and he could feel his lips curling into what he sincerely hoped was a villainous grin. After all, it wouldn't do to break character now. Even if the rules for this particular situation were somewhat outside the bounds of what one might normally be able to pick up from your average cop show.
Lacking pop culture guidance, Elijah decide the appropriate course of action was to please himself. Not only that, but from a bad-guy-standpoint, distracting Orli seemed like a good idea. It might not work, but it would sure as hell distract him, watching one guy give another a blowjob. And while two on one (heh) odds weren't exactly confidence inspiring, it would be cool as shit if Elijah did manage to turn the tables on them both.
"Fuck, yeah!" Dom breathed, sounding genuinely gleeful, when Elijah bent and resumed work pretty much right where he'd been interrupted. If anything, Dom's cock was leaking even more copiously now (get off on having Orli watch, do you, you kinky shit, Elijah thought, and would have grinned had it not been for his extremely full mouth), and luckily, Elijah's hand was already in position to stop Dom from arching up and choking him to death, since that was the first thing Dom tried to do. "Yeah," he repeated, softer and more breathless this time.
Elijah decided that his lack of embarrassment should be attributed to the fact that he was used to being the center of attention -- the whole child-star thing -- and not to the fact that he was shameless. Or maybe being shameless was actually a good thing, if one was the villain. Whatever. He ignored Orli (and Orli was making it fairly easy, he was being very quiet), and managed to find the rhythm he'd lost previously. It was easy to become absorbed enough in the roll of Dom's hips and the low murmur of Dom's voice to forget about Orli completely, actually, and Elijah's left hand was once again fumbling at the button of his jeans before he was reminded of Orli's presence.
"Don't you fucking stop him," Dom snarled from above Elijah, his voice admirably threatening, his hips pressing insistently upward, as though to prevent any thought of removal of contact (not that Elijah was entertaining such thoughts, quite the opposite).
"No," Orli agreed from somewhere on Elijah's left (he'd moved, apparently), but Orli did stop him, actually, Orli's larger hand slid over the top of Elijah's hand fumbling at his button-fly, pinning it. Elijah let out a little growl of objection around Dom's cock ("Oh, fuck, oh, man," Dom breathed), but then Orli was shoving Elijah's hand away, and curving his own warmly around the bulge in Elijah's Levi's, exerting just enough pressure to summon Elijah's hips forward to increase it.
Orli laughed, a low and insanely sexy rumble. Do it, Elijah thought, c'mon, do it, you fucker, and Orli's hand managed to dip neatly into the inadequate space between Elijah's thighs and waist and skillfully withdraw his cock from his Levi's, with Elijah barely feeling a tug or a fumble. Ok, so Orli was better at this than him. He could live with that.
Orli's other hand was guiding Elijah's free hand to a warm, familiar mound in another pair of jeans, and Elijah couldn't help but admire Orli's ability to multi-task when, with a slight shift and a tug, Elijah's left hand was abruptly full of the sleek and naked length of Orli's cock as well.
He wrapped his fist around it immediately, quite willing, and Orli mirrored Elijah's movement, his long fingers wrapping tightly enough around Elijah's cock to make Elijah whimper a little around Dom.
"Oh, yeeeaaaahh," Dom breathed, apparently thoroughly approving of this new arrangement (and Elijah had to agree with him, this worked pretty fucking well, even though his left arm was sort of straining at an odd angle, and working Orli's cock took more actual concentration than sucking Dom's), or at least of the soft, pleased moans that Elijah could hear himself making, which probably felt pretty damned good around Dom's cock. "Won't be looking for this on your fucking report either, Bloom," Dom growled through clenched teeth, and Elijah had to choke back a chuckle, which was rather easier than it might normally have been, since Elijah's mouth was otherwise occupied.
Orli's mouth wasn't engaged, and he did chuckle, his hand twisting heatedly around Elijah just right, just perfectly, in a way that made Elijah want to moan and gasp and squeak all at the same time.
"You should fuck him," Dom added breathily, and Elijah did squeak then, which made Dom arch up so quickly that Elijah had to swallow twice, hurriedly, to keep from choking. "Man, fuck, man. You should, you fucking should…"
"No," Orli murmured, his hand working in a nice, steady rhythm, and Elijah wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. "Can't. Don't have anything." His voice might have been a little wistful, but Elijah was genuinely too preoccupied to do more than be vaguely flattered that Orlando clearly wanted to.
"I have… I have…" Dom gasped, and Elijah debated biting him for a few seconds, because really, bad guy or not, fabulous handjob or not (and it was, between the feel of Dom's cock in his mouth and Orli's cock in his hand and his cock in Orli's hand, he felt like he could come any second), he wasn't entirely sure he was really ready to handle being in the middle of the two of them like that. It was all well and good for fantasy (one of Elijah's favorites, actually), but the reality was, he wasn't sure he wanted to go that far. At least not here, not now, in a semi-public forest with his knees growing damp from kneeling in fallen leaves and his thighs and back aching a little from the strain of his hunched over position.
Instead of biting Dom, he chose to go the other route, shifting slightly to deep throat him, and sliding his hand down from the base of Dom's cock to cup Dom's balls instead. It was just as effective for shutting Dom up. All he seemed capable of was a sort of breathy, groaning whine, which was fucking sexy, and only encouraged Elijah to shift a little more, suck hard and swallow furiously.
"Later," Orli muttered, maybe to Dom and maybe to Elijah, hard to say, but Elijah rewarded him with a flick of his wrist that made it possible to slide his thumb over the head of Orli's cock, spreading slick precome over it so that Orli's hips shuddered forward against Elijah's hand, bending his wrist back far enough to make it twinge sharply.
The fuck with that, Elijah thought sharply, and pulled his mouth off of Dom long enough to gasp: "Move closer, dammit, you're breaking my fucking wrist." He tugged at Orli's cock as he said it, and Orli let out a strangled curse but moved obediently, until he was kneeling next to Dom's hip instead of somewhat behind Elijah.
"Elijah," Dom groaned, "fuck's sake, Elijah, c'mon, man," and Elijah curled his hand around Dom's cock and gave him two quick, rough strokes, to shut him up. He did it almost absently, though, because the pause had given him a chance to take his first good look at Orli's cock, and wow. Elijah was going to have to think of something else to come back with when Orlando called him short; he'd ever be able to call Orli a twig again with a straight face. His eyes flicked up to Orlando's face quickly, and Orli had his head tipped back, eyes closed, and the water pistol was dangling loosely from his left hand, the muzzle nearly grazing the ground.
Elijah's brain stuttered for a second, and reeled out the possibility of uncurling his right hand from around Dom's cock, snatching the pistol out of Orli's loose grip, pressing the cool plastic muzzled into Orli's belly, ordering him to put his hands behind his head and winding his hand into Orli's short hair, pulling him forward and down, pushing his cock against Orli's pretty lips and sliding the muzzle of the water pistol into the hollow just behind his ear until he opened, until he took Elijah's cock into his wet mouth, until…
He didn't realize he'd actually let go of Dom's cock until Dom hissed sharply, "Orlando!" and Orli's eyes snapped open, hazy only for a moment before going sharp and flinty on Elijah's face.
"You're thinking bad thoughts," he murmured, and raised the water pistol up to graze lightly at the underside of Elijah's jaw. Elijah couldn't help but admire the slight, smirking curve of Orli's lips as they formed the words, the threat in his voice cool, fucking ice cold, especially as compared to the warmth of Orli's cock, still resting in Elijah's palm. "You shouldn't do that."
Elijah sneered a little, and squeezed his hand around Orli's cock. Orli hissed softly, and pushed the muzzle of the gun into the soft flesh under the hinge of Elijah's jaw. "We're all getting along so well, Mr. Wood," Orli said, his smile slow and wicked and knowing. "It would be a shame if I had to shoot you." But in distinct counterpoint to the threat, Orli continued to fist Elijah's cock, hand firm and slow and luxurious.
"Orli," Dom growled, and they both glanced at him. Dom looked furious and desperate, his face crumpled into something that was both demand and appeal. His chest and belly were tense, pulled taut by the position, and his cock, abandoned by Elijah, was deeply red and twitched restlessly against his belly. "Come on," he snarled feverishly, eyes flicking from Elijah to Orli, and back. He pushed his hips up, wordless demand, and Elijah's mouth went a little dry, watching him do that, and he thought something like that should be slightly funny, but it wasn't. Not at all.
Orli sucked in a deep breath, apparently not finding it funny either, and the muzzle of the plastic gun nudged briefly harder beneath Elijah's jaw, sending another of those bright, nonsensical (it was plastic, for fuck's sake, about as dangerous a stuffed animal, but still…) thrills of danger-lust down Elijah's spine to blossom warmly at the small of his back, and Elijah let the pressure push his head back, baring his throat, let his eyes sink most of the way closed until he was observing Orli through the blur of his own lashes. Orli's hand tightened hard on his cock, and Elijah's hips stuttered forward, pushing against the heated friction of it, and then Orli was kissing him, and the muzzle of the water pistol was digging into Elijah's jaw so fiercely that he whined a little at it, and he could hear Dom groaning even over the harsh and uneven rhythm of Orli's breath.
Fuck yeah, Elijah thought fleetingly, thoroughly caught up in the slippery heat of Orli's mouth on his, the aggressive press of Orli's tongue and the gentle sting of his teeth, but aware, still, of the gun jammed into his flesh, aware enough that when it fell away, and was replaced a moment later by Orli's hand cupping his jaw, he understood that Orli must have dropped it.
I should, um… he thought, but he couldn't keep ahold of intent with Orli's mouth on his and Orli's hand on his cock. The heat in his balls was seriously beginning to ache -- Dom must be completely fucking miserable, and Elijah felt a brief twinge of guilty pity -- and he could feel his cock twitching in Orli's hand. His determination to be a really effective bad guy was quickly waning. At this point, he just wanted to get off.
Orli pulled back, eventually, though his tongue lingered on Elijah's lower lip, flicking at it as though it were something tasty he couldn't quite get enough of, like an ice cream cone or one of Dom's ever-present lollypops.
"Finish him off, Wood," Orli murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that swirled heatedly through Elijah's guts and lodged itself in his spine, just beneath his belly button. He supposed he should resist, or at least feel slightly irritated by the ease with which Orli was maintaining his role, but instead he just turned toward Dom obediently.
Dom's face was nearly as red as his cock, and Elijah couldn't help the little sound of want that slithered out of his throat when he looked Dom over. He looked fucking hot, he looked amazing all wildly, wantonly wanting, with his naked cock leaking onto the golden skin of his belly and his chest stretched tense and tight by his hands planted behind him, supporting his weight. "Take your shirt off," Dom growled, his face twisted into something that was both belligerent and beseeching.
"Yeah," Orli agreed, and was abruptly helping Elijah do just that, one handed, so Elijah hooked his free hand into the hem of his shirt and helped too, letting go of Orli's cock for just a second to discard the t-shirt.
"Yeah," Dom said, "good, yeah." His lips were curled a little, a faint smile, and his brow had lost that twist of belligerence that might have been anger or aggravation. "C'mon," he murmured, and Elijah shivered a little at the breeze on his bare chest and back, though he was still wearing more than Dom (if only because his jeans were still up over his ass), and Dom didn't seem even remotely chilly. Dom seemed like he ought to have little tendrils of pale steam rising up from his skin. Orli ran his free hand lightly up Elijah's back, pausing between his shoulder blades to press lightly, urging him forward.
Elijah didn't see much point in resisting now, and he didn't really want to anyhow. Evil has no willpower, he thought a little giddily, and lapped at the spot on Dom's belly where the head of his cock had smeared his skin with precome, finding the flavor of it even better mingled with the sheen of sweat on Dom's belly, making it earthy and sharp all at once. That's why good always triumphs in the end. Then Dom hissed between his teeth, his hips pushing up insistently, and Elijah wanted to snicker. Good didn't seem to have a whole hell of a lot of willpower at this point, either.
By this time, Dom's cock felt almost familiar in his mouth, and Elijah already had his free hand on Dom's hip -- bearing down, and he could feel he ridge of Dom's hipbone pressing into the center of his palm -- so that Dom wouldn't choke him in his enthusiasm. He could feel the coil and flex of the tight muscles of Dom's belly beneath the heel of his hand, and wow, that was hot, that was fucking nuclear, and even if he didn't manage to somehow get the drop on Orli -- he no longer really thought he would, and doubted very much that he'd even try -- this was totally fucking worth it.
He slid his right hand down, fingertips trailing along the crease where Dom's thigh met his body, and Dom shuddered hard. Keeping his hand moving on Orli's cock wasn't any more difficult than jerking himself off would have been, now that Orli had moved to a better position, and it was almost automatic to keep doing it, keep moving. Most of Elijah attention was fixed firmly on the fingertips currently resting on the warm, sweaty skin between Dom's thigh and his nuts, and the rest was caught up in the sounds Dom was making, plaintive and frantic.
"Yeah," Orli breathed, close enough to Elijah's ear to nearly make him jump, and apparently Orli was sort of leaning over Elijah far enough to see what he was doing. "Yeah, do it," Orli encouraged, and plucked Elijah's hand off of Dom's thigh.
Elijah made a strangled sound of objection around Dom's cock -- what the fuck, if Orli wanted him to do it, why the fuck was he grabbing Elijah's hand? -- and Dom made a much louder and more emphatic sound, complete with the words "cunting bastard," and some others that Elijah didn't quite catch because Orli's mouth closed over his fingertips, wet and warm, and oh, so that would be why!
Orli was quick about it -- probably in deference to poor Dom, who sounded as though he might burst something, like a nut or a vein, if he didn't get off soon -- but very thorough, and when he released Elijah's fingers they were slick with spit. Elijah didn't waste any time either.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh holy bleeding fuck! " Dom panted, and Elijah didn't have a free hand to stop Dom's hips from bucking upward this time. The hand that had been performing that function was currently occupied, pressing one fingertip into Dom's ass, and Elijah had to shift and twist slightly to keep from gagging. Orli's hand slithered across Dom's sweat-slick skin and into Elijah's blurred vision for an instant, curved helpfully around Dom's hip, and Elijah made a mental note to thank Orli later (and he wondered fleetly what this must look like, the three of them twisted around and through and above and beneath one another, the worlds most erotic fucking game of sweaty twister). For the moment, he was totally occupied by the volcanic feel of Dom's ass as he carefully worked a finger inside, and his cock was keeping pace with Dom's cock, jerking urgently in Orli's hand in tandem with Dom's jerking urgently in Elijah's mouth, and Dom was making some really great fucking sounds, too, parts of words and breathy blurs of indeterminate pleasure sounds. "Ah, ah, Lighe, ah, ple- oh Christ, ohChristohChristoh, oh, I- I- I…"
Elijah wasn't remotely surprised when Dom came (and he was fairly sure that last part had been Dom trying to warn him, albeit without much success), and he sincerely doubted Orli was either, which was why Elijah nearly choked to death trying to both swallow and object to the fact that Orli's hand had stopped moving on Elijah's cock, at the same time. He had been close, too, the fucker, oh the bastard, and even the really fucking amazing feel of Dom's ass pulsing around Elijah's finger --- really really amazing, yeah, like the most profoundly erotic little muscle contractions imaginable fucking rippling around Elijah's finger, whoa -- couldn't quite distract him from the fact that he wasn't getting off, too.
Elijah had planned on giving Dom a minute or two to come down before totally pulling back, but Orli wound his fist into Elijah's hair and tugged, and he didn't really have much choice did he? "My turn," Orli growled, and Elijah licked at his lips, which felt a little chapped, and flexed his jaw.
It was only a little sore, but he was still just pissed enough at Orli about stopping him about two strokes from orgasm that he clenched it and snarled, "Fuck you!"
Orli grinned -- not his faux-cop grin, but just an Orli grin, bright and uncomplicated -- and said, "Next time, definitely. But that wasn't what I meant." Then he had his long, slender hands around Elijah's biceps and was turning him and pulling him up slightly, and Elijah felt cool air on his thighs as from behind him, Dom tugged his jeans down. The combination of Orli's non-cop grin and Dom using his hands freely seemed to indicate that the game had come to an end, and Elijah was okay with that as long as he still fucking got off.
"Man, come on," he said, and intended to say more, something demanding and petulant like Preferably some time today, when Orli slid his hand along Elijah's jaw, curling his thumb upward to press lightly at Elijah's lower lip. Elijah forgot he'd meant to say anything.
"You have the prettiest mouth I've ever seen," Orli said, apparently quite seriously, and Elijah found his mouth abruptly dry. He could clearly recognize the change in tone, the shift in the feel of this whole thing, and was surprised that it could happen so quickly, a matter of eight words from Orli's lips (which were definitely at least as pretty as Elijah's), but had no real idea how to respond to it.
He was just as surprised as Orli -- he could tell Orli was surprised by the way his eyes, dark and gleaming, went wide for a second -- to hear himself respond, "God, so do you," and even to his own ears, his voice sounded breathless and admiring.
"Thank you," Orli drawled, his mouth shaping the words slowly and carefully -- and deliberately, Elijah thought -- and then Orli was kissing him again, another taste of the concentrated heat of Orli's energetic tongue and softsoft lips, and Elijah could feel fingers in his hair, which he thought were Orli's until he felt both of Orli's hands skimming down his chest.
"He likes it when you bite," Dom murmured into his ear, low and warm, and Elijah shivered and bit at Orli's tongue obediently, feeling almost helpless to resist the suggestion. Orli groaned into his mouth in response and bit back, his sharp teeth stinging at Elijah's bottom lip.
"Orli," Elijah gasped when Orli finally pulled back, and pushed forward with his hips, jamming his cock demandingly against Orli's belly. The motion trapped Orli's cock between them as well, and Orli's hands curled tight around Elijah's ass and rocked his hips obligingly. "Yeah, oh yeah," Elijah breathed, eyes fluttering closed, and just let Orli do that, yeah fucking do that, while Dom nipped lightly at his neck with one hand still wound into Elijah's hair.
He was willing to admit he wasn't much of an evil mastermind (more like a slightly naughty boytoy, actually), but he thought he could pretty much live with that, provided that someone fucking got him off within the next couple of fucking minutes.
"Man," he groaned, "man, come on, fuck!"
"Next time, I said," Orli murmured, but he bent at the same time, and the last word was muffled against Elijah's thigh, and the feel of Orli's breath so fucking close sent a violent series of shudders through Elijah. Orli lapped quickly at Elijah's thigh, several quick, light jabs that lasted barely long enough for him to feel the sleek heat of Orli's tongue, and he didn't realize he was twisting up urgently toward the heat of Orli's mouth until one of Dom's hands curled around his hipbone and Orli murmured, "Settle down, 'Lighe," in a reasonable tone that Elijah though (possibly slightly hysterically) was anything but reasonable.
"If you don't…" Elijah growled, "if you don't fucking do something right fucking now--" But there was no need to finish, as Orli slid his tongue along the underside of Elijah's balls, and Elijah felt himself go tight and trembling, his back arching almost painfully tight. "Yes, yes," he said, and then Dom was pulling his face around and jamming his tongue into Elijah's mouth, and he let himself make whatever sounds were trapped in his throat, just let them bubble up and into Dom's mouth, aware that he'd fallen full length back against Dom, their skin pressed together, Dom's front to his back, sticking and sliding with sweat, but unable to fully appreciate it -- even with the furious scrapeslide of Dom's mouth devouring his, even with the feel of Dom's cock, still half-hard and wholly fucking hot, pressed against the curve of his ass -- with Orli's mouth on his nuts.
He was half anticipating Orli's fingers in his ass -- or just hoping, maybe -- but instead it was merely the callused pads of his fingertips pressed just behind his balls, that strip of skin between the thin, silky skin of his sac and his asshole, which Elijah himself made sure to touch at least twice a day if he could manage it, but which never felt this good with his own fingers (which possibly had something to do with the fact that he couldn't tongue his own nuts at the same time), never made him whine demandingly and his hips shudder upward, cock bobbing and aching, the head bumping against Dom's forearm, which had found it's way around Elijah's waist, holding him more or less still.
"It's fucking filthy," Dom gasped, jerking away from Elijah's mouth to do so, leaving Elijah to pant and keen softly, searching for words to demand, but unable to string them together. "This is fucking filthy," he repeated, sounding thrilled and awed and exultant, sounding fucking transported, and then he shifted slightly so that his cock was lined up with Elijah's arse and pressed hard, the length of him, fully hard again, nestled against Elijah's cleft. "God, I could fucking drown…" he snarled, and pulled Elijah hard back against him. "Get your bloody mouth on his cock, you teasing prick," he hissed. "I want to feel him come."
"Mmm," Orli murmured against Elijah nuts, and Elijah heard himself wailing, not moaning or whining, but fucking wailing, and Dom shuddered hard against him, and Elijah felt Dom's mouth on his neck, sucking hard, probably leaving a mark, and he didn't care.
"Orli, Orli, Orli," he begged, hips jerking against Dom's restraining arm, and then he didn't have to beg anymore because Orli's mouth was there, unbearably hot and wet and sucking, shatteringly adept, and Elijah was coming before he could get out any kind of warning, before his lungs could draw in a breath to fortify his strength, and his hands were twisted in Orli's hair, shoving down as he arched up, battling Dom's arm and his own mind-wiping pleasure, struggling to hold it, keep it, feel every instant while his skin buzzed and his blood pounded through his head and his heart threatened to batter itself to pieces slamming around inside his rib cage.
He collapsed back against Dom, vision flickering uncertainly, only barely aware of Orli pulling back, away, shaking off Elijah's hands. "Oh, fuck," he said faintly, mind totally fucking blown, body shaking and shivering with aftershocks while Dom's hands skated soothingly over his sweaty skin.
"Yeah," Dom growled into his ear, low and throaty. "Fucking filthy, I know." Elijah could hear him smiling, and after a moment he realized he was smiling too, albeit somewhat dazedly. "Look, though," he murmured, voice so soft it barely existed. "You'll miss the show, and Orli… appreciates an attentive audience."
Elijah glanced up, struggling against the weight of his head and the laxity of every fucking muscle in his body, and his breath choked off in his throat. Dom's hand around his hip squeezed lightly, as if in understanding or agreement, and he heard Dom chuckle softly against his cheek, but it was so breathless it could hardly be classified as a sound of amusement.
Orli had moved back a foot or so, still close enough to be nearly on top of them (close enough for Elijah to be able to smell him, the low, spicy scent of Orli's skin seeming to belong perfectly with the underlying musk of their sweat and come), and had shoved his jeans down around his thighs. He had both hands at work, one wrapped tightly around his cock, a quick and urgent rhythm that Elijah recognized, one that caused a deep, low down clench in his belly, in spite of everything. The other was curled around his balls, kneading and tugging at them, fingers dexterous and capable and practiced. And that was hot, oh fuck yeah it was, but the real fucking hotness factor lie in Orli's face, Orli's head tipped slightly back, his eyes closed, clenched, so that his brows pulled together fiercely, the concentration evident, the look of pleasure and need so profound that it slipslid over the line, ecstacy to ache, ache to ecstasy, and the nuances of it were etched into the fierce vertical line between Orli's brows and the press of his teeth to bottom lip, full and deeply red except where his teeth pressed and dimpled, turning it white, pulling skin taut.
Elijah tugged against Dom's arms, feeling drawn, feeling compelled. "I want…" he growled softly, when Dom didn't let go, and Orli opened his eyes slightly, looking glitteringly at Elijah from beneath the dark fringe of his lashes, and his lips curled slightly, teeth sliding free of his bottom lip, tongue darting out to lave the swollen flesh. Elijah resisted the urge to groan.
"Yeah, tell me about it," Dom whispered, darkly amused. He pushed his hips forward slightly, reminding Elijah abruptly of where Dom's cock was, and the fact that it was awake again in a big way. "But he wants this, he fucking loves this, and he wants you to see it, so be a considerate lover and don't. Take. Your. Eyes. Off. Him."
Like I could even if I fucking wanted to, Elijah thought almost reverently, letting his eyes absorb Orli, the flex of his forearms, the tendons moving in the back of the hand around his cock, the ripple of his belly, barely exposed beneath the hem of his t-shirt, and the absolute glory of Orli's face, twisted and yearning. "Come on," he whispered. "Orli, yeah."
Dom hummed agreement into his ear, and Orli hissed a little, like he'd heard Elijah, and his knees spread a little wider, making a crackleshhhh sound as they pushed through the layer of leaves on the ground. His hips rocked, a tight, measured thrust, and his hand tightened, and Elijah watched, absorbed with cataloguing the visible signs of his impending climax, the tightening of belly and thighs, the soft "o" of his mouth, fallen open, his brows arching upward, eyes going wide as though with surprise or possibly gratitude and it hit him, rode over him in visible waves, his body rising and falling in time, eyes fluttering, and it was very visceral, it was like tides, it was like watching the ocean trapped in Orli's sweat-sheened golden skin, and it occurred to Elijah that he could almost smell the ocean as well, the musk and come and sweat combining into a scent that was almost primal, and it was like nothing he'd ever seen or done, nothing he'd ever experienced, and he could feel how wide and astounded his eyes were, could feel his mouth open as well, his heavy breath parching his tongue and lips, and he kept thinking that this wasn't the way it was supposed to end, it was just a game, just for fun, and it wasn't supposed to make him feel like this, like he'd touched on something powerful, something beyond him.
"Oh," he heard himself whisper, and, "wow."
And then he thought that was just how the world worked, sometimes. You went looking for amusement or diversion, and somehow you got bliss.
He wasn't surprised when Orli shuffled forward slightly on his knees and then just sort of fell into Elijah's arms. He was shaking and breathing hard, but when Elijah turned him slightly, working against Orli's nearly dead weight, he was grinning hard, beaming even, and Elijah was helpless not to grin back.
"That was…" he said, struggling for words, not quite stammering but definitely unable to grasp exactly what it was he wanted to say.
"Fucking beautiful," Dom said helpfully, and Elijah nodded his agreement, but still couldn't touch the truth of it with his mind, couldn't find precisely how to verbalize it.
Orli laughed, artless and happy, and Elijah felt the shift away from that feeling of… something… that sense of the profound, and he wasn't exactly sorry to see it go. He wasn't sorry to have experienced it, either, he just… he didn't think it was the kind of thing that you were really supposed to feel all the time. That would… lessen it.
As it faded, other things rushed in to snag at his attention, the fact that he was mostly naked and pressed stickily to Dom and Orli, that there were leaves caught in Dom's hair, that he was comfortable only in the sense that the liked being pressed warmly between them, naked and pleasantly tired, disregarding the actual fact that Orli was heavy and Dom was very angular and his knees were stiff and the breeze was drying the sweat on his skin and making him feel a bit itchy.
Dom yawned so hard that his jaw popped, and Elijah felt the giggle tickling its way up his chest at the same time Orli snorted in amusement.
He was pretty sure that voicing the gratitude that was warming his chest would be stupid and anti-guy, so he didn't, but he did lean down to kiss Orli softly, and then twist back to do the same for Dom.
"This was good," he said, hearing the satisfaction in his own voice and not bothering to try and conceal it.
"Very good," Orli agreed, and pressed his face to Elijah's chest for a moment, a kind of pseudo-nuzzle, like being head-butted by a cat looking for a little attention.
"Next time," Dom said, yawning again and slinging his arms around both of them, a feat which seemed to Elijah to be more difficult than it might sound, since Dom was also basically supporting all of their combined weight, "lets play Cowboys 'n Indians. Orli'd make a good Indian, don't you think, Lij."
Elijah grinned, feeling another warm tickle of that gratitude, and closed his eyes.