orlando_bloom has Sunday Dinner with his family and calls home to Eric Bana

[ericbana]

players only.



Orlando manages to sneak away between the second round of Irish coffees and desert. He's glad to see his family, but with a new niece and his brother-in-law's extended family joining it's a little crazy.

After a quick detour to the loo, he finds a slice of peace and a little bit of quiet in his step-father's tiny study at the back of the old house and throws himself down on the familiar comfort of the worn leather sofa. He watches the light snowfall through the narrow bay window for a minute before he digs his phone out of his pocket and speed-dials number one on the list.

Shoving the tissue box and assorted car magazines out of the way, Eric locates his phone, a smile creasing his lips as he answers. "Hey, you."

Orlando's head thumps back against the sofa arm. That's better. "As much as I love my family, I'm not sure how I ever made it through the end of these nights without you."

Eric laughs. "I do a good job of taking the heat off, don't I?"

"You are the world?s most effective parental distraction," Orlando says, his smile a little dopey as he leans back into the worn leather. "Polite, handsome, a good job and excellent taste in men. I'm even bruised from her are-you-getting-fat-pinch around my middle - she did me twice, seeing as how you're not here to measure too."

"You're not getting fat," Eric protests, shaking his head. "You're perfect. Gorgeous."

"Thank you." Despite the fact that no one can see him, Orlando blushes. "And I feel the same, though I'd argue I'm slightly more obsessed with some of your individual body parts." He grins and then flops over on his stomach, reaching down to fiddle with the carpet. "And other things. Like your heart." He sighs and tucks the phone closer to his ear. "And I won't even mind ending up all wrinkly and old-man crazy like my Da, as long as you're there to be wrinkly with."

"I'm already getting wrinkly," Eric points out, eyes crinkling at their corners. "Few more years and I'll be there. You'll have to catch up with me."

"Secret? I've been hiding my gray hairs," Orlando says. "Okay, hair. But I plucked it. Then burned it. So as far as I'm concerned it didn't exist." He chuckles and flops over on his back. "But you'll be the first to know if I ever find another."

Eric laughs. "I wouldn't have any hair left if I started plucking mine."

"Yes, please don't, I love your hair," Orlando says, laughing. "And how did we start talking about this? My fault." He cradles the phone against his cheek. "I do miss you, despite being just across town. Should I show you how much when I get home?"

"Yes, please," Eric says with a smile. "I'm feeling much better."

"If you're certain," Orlando murmurs, his voice husky. "I'm not sure I should disturb you, or put you through too much strenuous activity. Perhaps I could just crawl across the house, up into the bed and service you with my mouth? That way, I wouldn't really be disturbing you, and you wouldn't even have to get up." He pauses. "Well, except for the one part."

"Which is already up. Willing and waiting," Eric supplies helpfully, his eyes closed now, listening to his boy's voice. "It's been too long."

"I'm going to be hard all the way home and I don't care," Orlando murmurs. "Because when I get home I'm going to give you the easiest, longest suck you've had in forever, until you're spooning it in slow, creamy blurts down my throat."

Eric groans. Christ. Glances at the clock. "When are you coming?" he murmurs, because god, he's already so hard, already aching.

"Whenever you'll let me," Orlando says, his smile Cheshire as he pushes off the sofa. "But I'm headed home right now."

Eric laughs. "I'll be waiting," he promises.

[feedback welcome. comments screened.]