Eric Bana and ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
orlando_bloom: house painting
Jun. 25th, 2014 09:22 americbanaplayers only. backdated. takes place a few weeks after the boys find a new place to live.
"You're sure this colour will darken?" Eric asks as he rolls the first stripe down the bedroom wall, surprised at the shade it comes out.
"Whoa," Orlando says, roller still in the bin as he looks over his shoulder at the swath Eric has just painted. Then he nods, firmly. "Yes, it will. By a lot more than we think." He gamely rolls a stripe across his own wall and chuckles. "That or we'll gradually want to take up golf. It's really green."
"If it stays this colour, we're repainting," Eric warns, applying another stripe with a slight shudder.
"Yes, Sir," Orlando says, saluting with a paint-spattered hand as he squats down to paint along the base board. "But I have confidence it will darken." Mock-whispers at the wall. "Dry darker or we might both be painted a different color." He moves on to another section. "This is going quicker than I thought. Do you think we'll need the second coat still?"
"I think so," Eric says, making quick work of the wall he's working on and moving to the next. "If we like the colour. It'll look more even that way."
"Good point," Orlando says, pausing to add more paint before finishing the upper portion of his wall. He glances over at Eric's methodical coverage from floor to ceiling, running the length of the wall, then back at his own bottom-to-top system and chuckles. "I wonder if there's a psychological profile based on the patterns people use to apply wall paint."
"How about profiles based on how much paint they get on them?" Eric teases, showing off his completely clean hands.
Orlando sniffs and leaves a smear of paint on his temple as he pushes up the edge of his bandanna. "I'm an artist," he says, loftily, lips twitching. "I'm supposed to be into my work." Just as a glob of paint rolls and falls from the end of his overloaded roller, right onto his arm. "Shit."
"I swear there's going to be more paint on you than the walls," Eric says, shaking his head, obviously amused. "C'mere," he murmurs, crooking a finger at Orlando.
Orlando's still frowning at his arm as he crosses the room to Eric. "I didn't think there was that much on it," he mutters.
"On what?" Eric asks, scooping a blob of paint from his roller and swiping it across the tip of Orlando's nose with a wide grin and sparkling eyes.
Nearly cross-eyed trying to see the paint while simultaneously gaping at Eric, it is many, many seconds before Orlando finally reacts. "Eeeeeh? Paint me, why don't you," he says, mock growling even as he laughs and leans forward in an attempt to rub his nose on Eric's cheek.
"Uh uh. No way. I'm clean," Eric protests, laughing, dumping his roller in the pan and pushing Orlando backwards.
"There is no escape," Orlando threatens and as soon as his ass hits the drop cloth he's scrabbling towards Eric, swiping a hand over a wet roller as he scoots after him on his knees. He catches Eric's calf with a wet slap of his paint-covered hand. "Now who's marked who," he cackles, laughter making words more difficult by the second as he falls back and tries to scrabble back on three limbs.
"You're just lucky I'm concerned about our floor," Eric says, dropping down to all fours and prowling towards him.
Orlando's snickering when his hand slips and he goes down to an elbow - in the paint. "Ah, fuck," he says, laughing as he staggers back more, smearing his elbow futility on the drop cloth. There's no escape, really (not that he actually wants to escape).
He spreads his knees as Eric prowls up between them, eyes going wide as Eric keeps coming and he ends up flat on the floor. "Oops?" he says, grinning up at him.
"Oops is right," Eric says, dropping down for a kiss, his tongue plunged into Orlando's mouth, fucking it.
Orlando opens under it with a pleased huff, lips and tongue yielding to the possession. His hips lift and his arms slide up in surrender, tilting his head as his mouth is taken.
"I wonder what kind of lube paint makes," Eric murmurs between kisses, not serious for even an instant but Orlando doesn't need to know that.
"Nnh," Orlando says, distracted by Eric's mouth on his. "N-not good. V.O. somethings." He sucks on Eric's tongue. "Poison. Terrible." He grins. "Dirty." Drawing out the word.
"You'd better be prepped then," Eric tells him, slipping a hand between them to unzip Orlando's shorts.
"Oh, I'm squishy with it," Orlando murmurs, tugging lightly at Eric's ear with his teeth as he arches up, helping push them down. "Wanted to get my whole hand in there this morning, thinking about how you might do this," he murmurs.
Eric groans at that. "Don't you dare," he says, kneeling up just long enough to pull Orlando's shorts free of his hips and down his legs. "Not unless I'm there to see it."
"Yes, Eric," Orlando says, with a breathless chuckle. He kicks his shorts free and hikes up a leg, fingers digging into muscle to spread himself, pulling his hole open from the edges. "But right now it needs cock, a fat hungry cock to fill it, please," he murmurs.
Christ. Another groan escapes, the sight in front of him threatening Eric's control. But he unzips his jeans and pulls out his cock, giving it a rough stroke, the tip already wet. "This what you had in mind, boy?"
"Fuck yes," Orlando moans, watching. Licks his lips and looks up at Eric. "Please. All of it. Fuck me." His own cock jumping at the words.
Eric drops forward, one hand braced above Orlando's head as he lines up, rubbing the crown over his boy's slicked hole. "Say it again. Tell me how you want my big fucking cock inside you. How you need it."
Orlando bites his lip at the teasing, hitching his ass up against Eric's cock with a low moan. "I need it, need your cock to pry me open. Need it to stretch me, fill up your greedy boy, his greedy hole." He's panting, fingers pulling his hole open until it catches the head of Eric's cock, moaning when it slips away. "Please, I want your fucking cock to rub and push and fuck me inside, own me."
"Slut." Eric pushes forward, the head popping through, then stills, savouring the tight heat, his eyes locked on Orlando's face as he slowly presses deeper. "My slut. My greedy cock-hungry little slut," he whispers, a soft growl creeping into his voice.
"Yours." Orlando strains back into the floor and his leg shakes as he takes it. He whines as it pushes deeper, his own cock growing stiffer and stiffer with every inch of Eric's he takes, until it's rigid and dribbling against his belly. "More," he gurgles, and rolls his hips up, drawing Eric deeper.
"More?" Eric grins, his eyes gone dark. "You think you can take it all?" he murmurs, pushing in until he's bottomed out, balls snug tight against Orlando's hole. Hips rocking forward to take every last fraction of an inch.
The moan stutters from Orlando's lips, skin flushed as he squeezes Eric's cock. "Fuck, yes please," he says, the words more lust and thank you's than greed. "So good." His chuckle soft and breathless as he spreads himself wider, gazing at Eric. "I like you in me."
"I like me in you too," Eric responds, pulling back to the very tip before thrusting deep again, his eyes locked on Orlando's.
Orlando's breath falls out of him as his body jerks under Eric's. Taken. "Your boy," he breathes, body rippling with the next withdrawal and thrust, his cock dribbling and twitching between them. Owned. "Yours to use."
"Mine." All the way in, Eric groans, dropping down to rest his forehead against Orlando's, struggling to control himself. And then he pushes back up, out to the head again. Sliding in slowly, the tight velvet heat wrapped around his cock drawing groan after groan from his lips.
There's the wet sound of fucking and the weight of Eric's body, the perfect torture of his thick cock and the quiet of the huge house around them. Theirs, together. Orlando shudders with the next stroke, thighs tightening as he sucks in a quick, helpless breath of want. "Eric, please, can I come?" A startled whisper.
"Now? Like this?" Eric asks, more to tease than anything else, shifting his next thrust to brush over Orlando's prostate.
Orlando's nod is emphatic, biting his lip on a quiet cry at the next thrust. "Yes, please, your cock is, I'm so, ah yes." Words garbled between small gasps and a desperate chuckle. "I'm so fucking there with your cock in here, your boy is so. Fucked. Please."
Eric nods, grinning, rather pleased with himself. "Do it," he says, thrusting in harder. "Fucking come for me, boy."
Orlando stops breathing for several heartbeats then makes a sound like he's been gutted, coming slow and wet and shuddering between them. Quiet spasms shake him, his eyes glazed and soft, a shaking hand splayed against Eric’s back, urging the fuck of his hips into his shaking body.
It's perfect. Watching Orlando come, feeling his own orgasm being dragged from his body, every pulse of his cock echoing his boy's. Eric comes silently, muscles tensed, teeth gritted, lost in the nuance of every ripple of pleasure, every aftershock...
All kinds of overwhelmed expletives come to mind, but Orlando can't make his voice work, buried in the moment and settles for absorbing Eric's entire body instead - arms, legs, thighs winding around him as he gives him one dazed, sloppy kiss after another, lips, chin, eyes, temple.
"At this rate, we're going to have christened the whole place before the week is out," Eric murmurs between kisses, his cock still throbbing inside Orlando.
"Good," Orlando says, licking his lips as he clenches carefully around Eric's spent cock. "Then you'll know I get a little hard remembering every time I walk in a different room."
Eric groans, the sound ending on a laugh, his cock giving another throb. "You think I only plan on doing it once?
Orlando echoes Eric's laugh, his smile wide. "Are you saying you want to christen every surface in every room?" Arms and legs finally giving out in a sprawl.
"Yes, and then again, every couple of years," Eric grins, staring down at Orlando, wondering how he got so lucky as to have all this.
Orlando snorts, reaching up to touch Eric's cheek before his hand flops back to the floor, his smile blissed out and smug. "Then we're gonna need a lot more of the good lube."
[feedback welcome. comments screened.]
"You're sure this colour will darken?" Eric asks as he rolls the first stripe down the bedroom wall, surprised at the shade it comes out.
"Whoa," Orlando says, roller still in the bin as he looks over his shoulder at the swath Eric has just painted. Then he nods, firmly. "Yes, it will. By a lot more than we think." He gamely rolls a stripe across his own wall and chuckles. "That or we'll gradually want to take up golf. It's really green."
"If it stays this colour, we're repainting," Eric warns, applying another stripe with a slight shudder.
"Yes, Sir," Orlando says, saluting with a paint-spattered hand as he squats down to paint along the base board. "But I have confidence it will darken." Mock-whispers at the wall. "Dry darker or we might both be painted a different color." He moves on to another section. "This is going quicker than I thought. Do you think we'll need the second coat still?"
"I think so," Eric says, making quick work of the wall he's working on and moving to the next. "If we like the colour. It'll look more even that way."
"Good point," Orlando says, pausing to add more paint before finishing the upper portion of his wall. He glances over at Eric's methodical coverage from floor to ceiling, running the length of the wall, then back at his own bottom-to-top system and chuckles. "I wonder if there's a psychological profile based on the patterns people use to apply wall paint."
"How about profiles based on how much paint they get on them?" Eric teases, showing off his completely clean hands.
Orlando sniffs and leaves a smear of paint on his temple as he pushes up the edge of his bandanna. "I'm an artist," he says, loftily, lips twitching. "I'm supposed to be into my work." Just as a glob of paint rolls and falls from the end of his overloaded roller, right onto his arm. "Shit."
"I swear there's going to be more paint on you than the walls," Eric says, shaking his head, obviously amused. "C'mere," he murmurs, crooking a finger at Orlando.
Orlando's still frowning at his arm as he crosses the room to Eric. "I didn't think there was that much on it," he mutters.
"On what?" Eric asks, scooping a blob of paint from his roller and swiping it across the tip of Orlando's nose with a wide grin and sparkling eyes.
Nearly cross-eyed trying to see the paint while simultaneously gaping at Eric, it is many, many seconds before Orlando finally reacts. "Eeeeeh? Paint me, why don't you," he says, mock growling even as he laughs and leans forward in an attempt to rub his nose on Eric's cheek.
"Uh uh. No way. I'm clean," Eric protests, laughing, dumping his roller in the pan and pushing Orlando backwards.
"There is no escape," Orlando threatens and as soon as his ass hits the drop cloth he's scrabbling towards Eric, swiping a hand over a wet roller as he scoots after him on his knees. He catches Eric's calf with a wet slap of his paint-covered hand. "Now who's marked who," he cackles, laughter making words more difficult by the second as he falls back and tries to scrabble back on three limbs.
"You're just lucky I'm concerned about our floor," Eric says, dropping down to all fours and prowling towards him.
Orlando's snickering when his hand slips and he goes down to an elbow - in the paint. "Ah, fuck," he says, laughing as he staggers back more, smearing his elbow futility on the drop cloth. There's no escape, really (not that he actually wants to escape).
He spreads his knees as Eric prowls up between them, eyes going wide as Eric keeps coming and he ends up flat on the floor. "Oops?" he says, grinning up at him.
"Oops is right," Eric says, dropping down for a kiss, his tongue plunged into Orlando's mouth, fucking it.
Orlando opens under it with a pleased huff, lips and tongue yielding to the possession. His hips lift and his arms slide up in surrender, tilting his head as his mouth is taken.
"I wonder what kind of lube paint makes," Eric murmurs between kisses, not serious for even an instant but Orlando doesn't need to know that.
"Nnh," Orlando says, distracted by Eric's mouth on his. "N-not good. V.O. somethings." He sucks on Eric's tongue. "Poison. Terrible." He grins. "Dirty." Drawing out the word.
"You'd better be prepped then," Eric tells him, slipping a hand between them to unzip Orlando's shorts.
"Oh, I'm squishy with it," Orlando murmurs, tugging lightly at Eric's ear with his teeth as he arches up, helping push them down. "Wanted to get my whole hand in there this morning, thinking about how you might do this," he murmurs.
Eric groans at that. "Don't you dare," he says, kneeling up just long enough to pull Orlando's shorts free of his hips and down his legs. "Not unless I'm there to see it."
"Yes, Eric," Orlando says, with a breathless chuckle. He kicks his shorts free and hikes up a leg, fingers digging into muscle to spread himself, pulling his hole open from the edges. "But right now it needs cock, a fat hungry cock to fill it, please," he murmurs.
Christ. Another groan escapes, the sight in front of him threatening Eric's control. But he unzips his jeans and pulls out his cock, giving it a rough stroke, the tip already wet. "This what you had in mind, boy?"
"Fuck yes," Orlando moans, watching. Licks his lips and looks up at Eric. "Please. All of it. Fuck me." His own cock jumping at the words.
Eric drops forward, one hand braced above Orlando's head as he lines up, rubbing the crown over his boy's slicked hole. "Say it again. Tell me how you want my big fucking cock inside you. How you need it."
Orlando bites his lip at the teasing, hitching his ass up against Eric's cock with a low moan. "I need it, need your cock to pry me open. Need it to stretch me, fill up your greedy boy, his greedy hole." He's panting, fingers pulling his hole open until it catches the head of Eric's cock, moaning when it slips away. "Please, I want your fucking cock to rub and push and fuck me inside, own me."
"Slut." Eric pushes forward, the head popping through, then stills, savouring the tight heat, his eyes locked on Orlando's face as he slowly presses deeper. "My slut. My greedy cock-hungry little slut," he whispers, a soft growl creeping into his voice.
"Yours." Orlando strains back into the floor and his leg shakes as he takes it. He whines as it pushes deeper, his own cock growing stiffer and stiffer with every inch of Eric's he takes, until it's rigid and dribbling against his belly. "More," he gurgles, and rolls his hips up, drawing Eric deeper.
"More?" Eric grins, his eyes gone dark. "You think you can take it all?" he murmurs, pushing in until he's bottomed out, balls snug tight against Orlando's hole. Hips rocking forward to take every last fraction of an inch.
The moan stutters from Orlando's lips, skin flushed as he squeezes Eric's cock. "Fuck, yes please," he says, the words more lust and thank you's than greed. "So good." His chuckle soft and breathless as he spreads himself wider, gazing at Eric. "I like you in me."
"I like me in you too," Eric responds, pulling back to the very tip before thrusting deep again, his eyes locked on Orlando's.
Orlando's breath falls out of him as his body jerks under Eric's. Taken. "Your boy," he breathes, body rippling with the next withdrawal and thrust, his cock dribbling and twitching between them. Owned. "Yours to use."
"Mine." All the way in, Eric groans, dropping down to rest his forehead against Orlando's, struggling to control himself. And then he pushes back up, out to the head again. Sliding in slowly, the tight velvet heat wrapped around his cock drawing groan after groan from his lips.
There's the wet sound of fucking and the weight of Eric's body, the perfect torture of his thick cock and the quiet of the huge house around them. Theirs, together. Orlando shudders with the next stroke, thighs tightening as he sucks in a quick, helpless breath of want. "Eric, please, can I come?" A startled whisper.
"Now? Like this?" Eric asks, more to tease than anything else, shifting his next thrust to brush over Orlando's prostate.
Orlando's nod is emphatic, biting his lip on a quiet cry at the next thrust. "Yes, please, your cock is, I'm so, ah yes." Words garbled between small gasps and a desperate chuckle. "I'm so fucking there with your cock in here, your boy is so. Fucked. Please."
Eric nods, grinning, rather pleased with himself. "Do it," he says, thrusting in harder. "Fucking come for me, boy."
Orlando stops breathing for several heartbeats then makes a sound like he's been gutted, coming slow and wet and shuddering between them. Quiet spasms shake him, his eyes glazed and soft, a shaking hand splayed against Eric’s back, urging the fuck of his hips into his shaking body.
It's perfect. Watching Orlando come, feeling his own orgasm being dragged from his body, every pulse of his cock echoing his boy's. Eric comes silently, muscles tensed, teeth gritted, lost in the nuance of every ripple of pleasure, every aftershock...
All kinds of overwhelmed expletives come to mind, but Orlando can't make his voice work, buried in the moment and settles for absorbing Eric's entire body instead - arms, legs, thighs winding around him as he gives him one dazed, sloppy kiss after another, lips, chin, eyes, temple.
"At this rate, we're going to have christened the whole place before the week is out," Eric murmurs between kisses, his cock still throbbing inside Orlando.
"Good," Orlando says, licking his lips as he clenches carefully around Eric's spent cock. "Then you'll know I get a little hard remembering every time I walk in a different room."
Eric groans, the sound ending on a laugh, his cock giving another throb. "You think I only plan on doing it once?
Orlando echoes Eric's laugh, his smile wide. "Are you saying you want to christen every surface in every room?" Arms and legs finally giving out in a sprawl.
"Yes, and then again, every couple of years," Eric grins, staring down at Orlando, wondering how he got so lucky as to have all this.
Orlando snorts, reaching up to touch Eric's cheek before his hand flops back to the floor, his smile blissed out and smug. "Then we're gonna need a lot more of the good lube."
[feedback welcome. comments screened.]
