bloominbabylonfic: (Boot Kink)
[personal profile] bloominbabylonfic

Title: Indiana Bana
Author: Beth
Characters: BanaBloom
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Yeah, it happened.
Summary: Seen Raiders of the Lost Ark? This is the slashed, BanaBloomed version.
Warnings: PWP, smut. No real story to be found
Beta: the lovely [ profile] piperbelle

Note: This is a complete rip off of the movie. It’s all in fun.

He’d found it! The Well of the Souls.

Holy. Shit.

Orlando would be so excited…but…Orlando…


Orlando. Dead.

Eric only escaped from the fact a few moments before it hit him square in the face again.

All those years, he’d always known exactly where Orlando was, but never went to him. Didn’t know what to say. Too afraid of what Orlando would say. But this trip, mission, treasure hunt, whatever it was, gave Eric a reason, an excuse. And despite his fears and doubts, he had hoped for a reconciliation of some kind.

And now, all the raised hopes…gone. The only person that had ever meant something to him. The only one he’d ever…

The last few days had been a blur, first of alcohol, then of blunt pain. The fight in the Cairo market, the explosions, drinking himself almost blind. Nothing but the fear of what the Nazi’s would do with the ark if they got to it first reached Eric. And that was only temporary.

When he caught up with Belloq, when the ark was safe and it was all over, Eric was going to cut him into one inch square pieces with a butter knife and feed them to the crocodiles.

And then resume drinking.

He had to stop thinking about Orlando and revenge, at least until he’d gotten the ark away from the Nazis. He needed to focus. It wouldn’t do him any good to be caught. The sun beat down on him; sweat forming on his skin despite the turban and thin cotton shift he wore for disguise as well as protection. He clenched his fists, took a deep breath and started moving again, winding his way through the many tents.

A loud burst of laugher and shouting in German came from the tent on his left. The flap opened and soldiers appeared. Eric quickly spun around and detoured into the nearest nearby tent. He looked around the well appointed tent quickly, ensuring it was unoccupied before turning back to watch the passing soldiers.

Loud grunting of what sounded distinctly like threats from behind him caught his attention. He turned toward the sound, preparing to fight. In the middle of the tent was Orlando, tied to the center pole supporting the tent and gagged, but alive. Eric dove across the tent and yanked the gag from Orlando’s mouth.

“Let me go you rat bastard mother-”

Eric pulled the cloth from his face, smiling broadly at Orlando, who tried to look pissed, but couldn’t help his own smile.

“About damn time you-”

Eric grabbed his head and kissed him, hard and deep. Orlando sagged, temporarily stunned into silence and stillness.

“I thought you were dead,” Eric breathed against Orlando’s lips. “They must have switched baskets.” He reached behind Orlando, feeling for the rope binding his hands to the chair.

“You gotta get me outta here,” Orlando whispered urgently. “They keep asking me about you, what you know. The Frenchman’s got the hots for me. Thinks I’m a girl, for Christ’s sake.”

Eric whipped out a knife as Orlando babbled and struggled against the ropes. Orlando looked at him, waiting for Eric to cut him free. “What? What’s wrong? Cut me loose!”

Slowly, Eric put the knife away. “I know where the ark is.”

“Great!” Orlando chirped. “Let’s go get it!”

“I can’t. If I take you out of here now, they’ll start searching for us. They’ll comb the desert.”

He stared at Eric, dumbfounded. His eyes narrowed and he said very clearly, “Cut. Me. Loose.”

Eric shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Cut me loose!” Orlando yelled as Eric stood up.

“For Christ’s sake, Orlando. Keep your voice down!”

“Cut me loose!” Orlando yelled even louder then screamed, “I said, get me out of--”

Eric popped the gag back into Orlando’s mouth and only narrowly avoided getting bit. Orlando’s eyes widened in fury and in warning. It was a look that Eric knew very well. “Look, I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re not dead-” Orlando snorted a sarcastic ‘thanks’ through the gag. “But this whole thing will be shot all to hell if you don’t behave yourself and be quiet.”

Orlando screeched something that sounded like ‘myself?’, but Eric couldn’t really understand, but he did understand the sound of astonishment. “They haven’t hurt you in the last day; they’re not going to start now.”

“I’ll be back for you. Soon. I promise,” he whispered and kissed Orlando quickly before he jumped to his feet and ran from the tent. Orlando grunted obscenities at his back through the gag and thrashed about against the rope.

For close to ten minutes, Orlando grumbled and swore and wriggled in his bindings. Then he gave up. He was hot, tired and absolutely stunned that Eric had left him tied to a pole in the tent of a Nazi collaborator. He wiggled on the carpet, trying to make a space for his butt in the sand under the tent, trying to find a comfortable spot to sit and wait.

Wait for what he wasn’t sure. Either an opportunity to escape himself or for Eric to bring his big dumb, ark-finding ass back and set him free.

And what the fuck was he doing here anyway? Why had he come with Eric to Egypt? Because he had no where else to go. Destruction had followed close behind Eric, as it always had, and destroyed not only Orlando’s bar, but his apartment above it as well.

And because he loved Eric and would have followed him anywhere.

His heart had almost exploded out of his chest when Eric showed up in Nepal. Ten years that he’d waited. Ten. Years. And when Eric asked about the headpiece to the Staff of Ra, his heart had broken all over again. Just as it had all those years ago. He feigned ignorance, too angry and hurt to just hand the golden disk over. He should have just thrown it at Eric and then thrown his ass out of the bar.

Well, he’d done half of that at least.

And then some Nazi had shown up with his henchman and shot the shit out of his bar. Close on their heels, Eric arrived and shot the shit out of them. Orlando wasn’t sure who started the fire. It could have been him. Wasn’t sure it mattered.

Despite his best intentions, Orlando found himself just as in love with Eric as he’d been ten years ago. He could see the same feelings in Eric’s eyes. It gave him hope. It had also landed him on his butt, tied to a tent pole of a Nazi.

This time was different though. He wasn’t a starry-eyed, smitten seventeen year old boy. And Eric hadn’t exactly left him as much as he’d ‘left’ him. It didn’t mean Eric wasn’t in some seriously deep shit though either.

Exhaustion and the suffocating afternoon heat soon had Orlando’s head hanging, dozing and fantasizing about torturing Eric with honey and ants. Or just honey. He’d pour thick, sticky sweet, honey all over Eric’s six foot four inch gorgeous body. How the honey was removed would depend on how nicely Eric asked and how well he apologized for leaving Orlando tied to the tent pole.

He woke while someone was untying the ropes around his hands as soon as he felt the ropes loosen; he yanked his hands forward and scrabbled on hands and knees for the tent flap.

Two pairs of jackboots stepped in front of him. “To escape on foot, the desert is three weeks in every direction.”

Orlando stood up, mustering as much dignity as he could, and turned to the man with the French accent. Belloq was about Orlando’s height, salt and pepper hair, not unattractive, but not Orlando’s type either. He waved at a tray of fruits and cheeses and a pitcher of water. “So please, eat something.”

Orlando looked at the tray hungrily, no sense trying to be a hero. He walked stiffly to the tray and sat on the floor in front of it. Once the scent of the food hit his nose, he gave up any pretense that his parents weren’t wolves or of having any kind of table manners. He grabbed with both hands, stuffing grapes and slices of orange into his mouth. He didn’t bother pouring the water into a glass; he just upended the pitcher over his open mouth.

Belloq’s eyebrows rose close to his hairline and shook his head. How could such a beautiful and delicate creature eat like such an animal? He moved to sit on a chair opposite Orlando. Even in filthy ripped clothes and covered in the clinging fine desert sand, Orlando was a beauty. Slender build but well defined, narrow hips and long legs. His hair was an indecent length for a gentleman, but for a woman… It rested in waves on his shoulders, thick and luxurious and probably shone like polished teak when it wasn’t covered in dust.

Indiana Bana might be a giant, self righteous, pain in the ass, but he certainly had good taste.

“I must apologize for your treatment. My friends,” he sneered looking at the guards at the tent entrance, “seem to think that deprivation is the way to gain information.”

Orlando snorted loudly, spraying fruit and water over the tray. “What kind of people are these friends of yours?”

Belloq shrugged. “At this point in my work, they are necessary evils. However, with the right connections, even in this part of the world, we are not entirely uncivilized.” From behind the chair, Belloq pulled a large white box and set it on his lap. He lifted the lid, peeled back the tissue paper and held up a white silk evening gown.

Orlando looked at the dress, then at Belloq and the sappy, lusty look he was giving Orlando. He popped a grape into his mouth, chewed and raised his eyebrows in question. He had a bad feeling of where this was going.

“I would very much like to see you in it.”

“I'll bet you would,” Orlando muttered. He sighed resignedly, stood up and held his hand out for the box. Behind an ornate Chinese screen, he dropped the box with the dress on the floor and began unbuttoning his shirt. “What have you got to drink around here?” He was going to need a few drinks to pull this off. “I’m going to fucking kill you for this, Eric” he whispered and kicked off his shoes.”

“I have some whisky,” Belloq answered. “I’m sorry I don’t have something more fitting your constitution.”

Orlando scowled at the comment. He threw the lacy bra and panties to the side. He didn’t care if it meant escaping or not. No fucking way was he wearing women’s underwear. Did Belloq really think he was that delicate? Or did he think Orlando really was a woman? “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

He slid the dress over his head, twisting a little till the hem settled to the floor, and looked at the open toed satin pumps at the bottom of the box. Fuck the shoes. The dress fell to the floor, hiding his feet. And running barefoot would be easier.

He checked his appearance in the full length mirror. He was a bit disgusted at how well the dress seemed to fit. Except the bodice. Because no matter what Belloq thought or wanted, Orlando was not a woman and he was more than a little lacking in the breast department. If Belloq wanted boobs, he’d just have to use his imagination. Orlando bundled up his clothes and shoes and walked from behind the screen, swishing his hips a little.

Belloq’s gasp was loud. “Orlando, you are beautiful.”

Smiling seductively, Orlando set his clothes on top of the knife next to the platter of fruit.


An hour later, Belloq was drunk. And although he laughed and giggled and slipped off his chair, Orlando was mostly sober. As Belloq prattled on about his family estate, Orlando waited for him to reach just the right level of drunkenness. When Belloq fell off his chair a third time, Orlando pulled the knife from beneath his clothes and stood up, pointing the knife towards Belloq.

“Well, I have to be going now.” Orlando laughed along with Belloq as he grabbed the hem of his dress and carefully walked backwards.

Belloq just giggled and waved, “Au revoir, mademoiselle.”

“I am NOT a girl,” Orlando said firmly.

Leather gloved hands gripped Orlando’s upper arms from behind and frog marched him back into the tent, and then threw him to the floor. Orlando flipped himself over and pushed the hair out of his eyes. It was the same thug who’d burned down his bar.

“We meet again, Fräulein.”

“What is it with you Nazis? I am not a fucking girl!” he shouted and pulled his dress over his bare legs.

~ * ~

All night he and Sallah had been in the Well of Souls. The sun was just creeping over the horizon as they had finally lifted the ark out. Nothing like cutting it close. He looked around him at the hieroglyphs engraved on the stone walls, at the fifty foot high statues of Anubis. He’d give his left nut to be able study the room for even a little bit longer. Another snake slithered over the toe of his boot as he watched Sallah’s backside disappear over the edge of the well.

It was a miracle that he hadn’t flipped out completely with all the damn snakes down there. He wondered for a quick second if maybe being surrounded by snakes had cured him of his phobia. But without Sallah’s happy chatter the sounds of the snakes moving over the sand seems to increase, grow louder and closer and one large snake slithered a little too close. “Fucker.” Eric muttered and kicked more sand at the snake. He reached for the rope and gave it a testing tug, more than ready to get out of there.

The rope fell into the well and hung loosely from his hands.

“What the…”

“Why, Dr. Bana, whatever are you doing in such a nasty place?” Belloq peered down over the edge, into the well.

“Shit,” Eric muttered. “Come down, I'll show you.”

“Thanks, but we're very comfortable up here. That's right, isn't it?” He looked at the crowd of German soldiers standing around the edge of the well. They laughed and pointed. “Yes, we are very comfortable up here.”

“Very amusing,” Eric grumbled. He turned in a wide circle, waving the torch at any snakes that dared to cross the line of fire he and Sallah had laid down.

“So, once again, what was briefly yours is now mine.” Belloq ran a hand along the edge of the well, almost lovingly. “What a fitting end to your life's pursuits. You'll be a permanent addition to this archaeological find.”

Eric was just barely listening to Belloq blather. He swung the torch around him, keeping the snakes at bay and thinking.

“In a thousand years, even you may be worth something.

Eric heard that. “Haha, good one, jerk off,” he muttered just loud enough to be carried up to Belloq, eyes still on the snakes.

“We must be going now.” Belloq said and climbed to his feet.

The German Commander stepped to the edge. “Our prize is awaited in Berlin. But I do not wish to leave you all alone.” He snapped his fingers and Eric heard a familiar voice.

“Get off! Let me go!”

“Oh Jesus,” Eric whispered. “No, don’t-”

They threw Orlando into the well. Eric dropped the torch and braced himself to catch Orlando. Orlando wasn’t heavy, but Eric staggered under the force of his sixty foot fall from the top of the well. As soon as Orlando realized where he was, he started fighting Eric.

“You bastard! Let go of me!” Eric tried to hold onto Orlando, but the silky dress and a well placed elbow made him stumble and drop Orlando. He landed on his belly, face to face with a King Cobra.

The snake opened its hood and hissed. “Ss-snnakes…”

“Orlando,” Eric said softly. “Stay calm and move very-”

Before Eric could finish, Orlando had jumped up and climbed up on top of Eric. “Wait a minute. Ow! Goddammit, Orlando!” Orlando didn’t stop fighting or climbing, using Eric’s legs and forearms as steps, until he was sitting on Eric’s shoulders, legs wrapped around Eric’s neck.

For one crazy moment, Eric tried to figure out how to turn Orlando around so his crotch was in Eric’s face.

“The girl was mine!” Belloq yelled at the top.

“I am NOT a girl!” Orlando shouted.

“She's no use to the Führer's mission. I wonder sometimes if you have that clearly in mind.”

Belloq looked down into the well and lifted his hand in farewell. “It was not to be, chérie.” He paused for a moment then looked at Eric. “Indiana Bana…adieu.

Orlando slid down Eric’s back, clinging to him as the Germans started maneuvering the stone to close the well. “Eric.”

Reaching behind him, Eric grabbed Orlando’s arm and pulled him around to his front, kissing the top of his head, then looking back up.

The stone ground loudly against the sand that has slipped down the embankment. Both men looked up as the light slowly disappeared. Eric’s hand rested at the back of Orlando’s neck, Orlando’s fingers dug into Eric’s waist. With a huge whoosh of air, the stone fell into place, sealing the well of Souls.

The torches flickered but didn’t go out. Orlando looked around. They were standing between two huge stone statues of the dog headed god, Anubis and surrounded by snakes. Not exactly surrounded, flaming torches cut a path in the sand, holding the snakes back.

“Why does everyone call you Indiana?” Orlando asked.

“What?” He picked up two torches and handed one to Orlando. “Wave it at anything that slithers.”

“What’s with the ‘Indiana’?”

“That’s my name. Only you call me Eric.”

“Indiana was your dog.”

“Can we discuss this at another time?” Eric snapped. He grabbed the unused torches from the pile Sallah had left and lit them. Placing them on the ground, the patch of snake-free sand he and Orlando were standing on widened.

There was no obvious escape route. But there had to be a way out, the snakes and breathable air was coming from somewhere. Eric held his torch up high, like a lantern, searching the walls and ceiling. As he turned the arc of light illuminated Orlando. And his white silk evening gown. He was bent over, waving his torch threateningly at the encroaching snakes; mumbling warning obscenities at them. He knew what Belloq’s kinks were. Jealousy flamed in his chest.

He grabbed a fistful of the slippery fabric and yanked. “Where'd you get this, from him?”

Ignoring the tone of Eric’s voice, Orlando yanked back and answered, “I was trying to escape, no thanks to you!” and slapped Eric’s hand away.

“How hard were you trying?” Eric muttered sarcastically and turned to the opposite wall.

Spying the whip coiled on Eric’s hip, Orlando leaned forward touching the torch to the whip just enough.

“Ouch! Jesus!”

Realizing his mistake too late, Orlando smirked to himself. “Oops, thought it was a snake.”

“Oops, my ass,” Eric muttered. “You did that on purpose!”

“Serves you right, leaving me with that…” Orlando waved the torch around searching for the right word, “that…freak!”

“I was coming back! I promised, didn’t I?”

“Right,” Orlando snorted. “Like you did ten years ago?”

“That was different,” Eric said stiffly. “I would never leave you in a situation where you would be hurt.”

“Oh, you didn’t think that you leaving me would hurt me?”

Jesus. Where was all this coming from? It was the argument he’d been waiting ten years to have, but why now, for Christ’s sake? Well, in for a penny… “What happened? Why did you leave?”

Eric seemed to sag a bit. “Ten years ago, I wanted adventure. Not a seventeen year old boy.”

Orlando’s face tightened and he bit the inside of his cheek. He’d always suspected that was the reason, but it still hurt to have Eric actually put it into words.

Eric tossed his torch to the side and cupped his cheek, his thumb smoothing the frown lines at the corner of Orlando’s mouth. His touch was so gentle. “Ten years ago…I was a fool.”

“You’re still a fool,” Orlando whispered.

“Not as big of one as I was though. I wanted to come back. Started to, a hundred times.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Christ, Orlando. I’d been gone so long, how could I? What would I have said to you? I was scared.”

“Pfft. Besides snakes, what are you afraid of?” Orlando smiled as he asked, the tension between them fading.

“You. You are fucking scary when you’re pissed. Arms flapping, legs kicking, mouth running.” He did an impression that looked more like a monkey in the middle of a seizure than anything else.

“Fuck you, Bana,” Orlando laughed.

“See? What if you’d said that to me then?”

Orlando studied his face, the small lines of worry that creased the skin at his eyes and mouth. “So confident in everything,” Orlando whispered. “But me.”

“No, not you. Me. If you had pushed me away…” He stared at the sandy floor, hands shoved deep in his pockets, building small hills with his boots. Orlando took a step, closing the gap between them. “When I thought you were dead I-” he searched Orlando’s face for understanding. “I love you,” Eric whispered. “Always have. You know that. I know you know that.”

“Yeah,” Orlando smiled slowly. “I know. Deep down, even after you left, I knew.” He kissed Eric lightly, just a brush of lips, a sharing of warmth, reestablishing a connection. “For the record, if you ever leave me again, I will hunt you down and gut you like a fish.”

Eric smiled, but he heard the serious tone. “Promise.” He took Orlando in his arms, sliding his hands over his back and into the mess of his thick hair. Eric kissed him, as if he were sealing his promise with his lips. He pulled Orlando tighter to his body. Eric’s mouth to his again, letting Eric’s tongue part his lips and slip inside. A little breathless, Orlando ended the kiss.

“How’re we gonna get out of here?” Orlando whispered against Eric’s mouth.

“Don’t know, don’t care. Figure it out later.”



And just to enforce the sentiment, Eric kissed Orlando again. He didn’t care about the Army. Didn’t care about the ark or the Nazis. All he cared about, all that mattered was in his arms again and was his again.

He blindly walked Orlando backward until he was pressed tightly against the base of one of the Anubis statues. Leaning forward, Eric slid his hands to the back of Orlando’s thighs and lifted him and pulled his legs around his waist. He pressed his body between Orlando’s legs, rocking slowly.

Need flooded Orlando’s body and he grabbed at the lapels of Eric’s leather jacket and tugged at him roughly. Surprised at the nip of teeth at his lips, Eric broke the kiss and raised an amused eye brow at Orlando.

“What?” He flipped the fedora off Eric’s head, smirking and blushing at the same time.

“Nothing,” Eric grinned smugly and dove in for another deep kiss. He pulled at the silk bodice of the gown, exposing Orlando’s shoulders and chest, kissing every spot of bare skin. Even covered in dust, Orlando’s skin tasted wonderful.

Orlando was like an octopus, arms and legs winding around Eric. His mouth attaching to every bit of skin he could find. Touching, stroking, working his hands inside Eric’s shirt, popping a button or two in his rush to get to skin. Eric kissed along Orlando’s neck, nibbling and sucking at more and more skin as Orlando arched his neck to expose it to Eric. Finding Orlando’s mouth again, he pushed his tongue deep, twisting it around Orlando’s.

The kiss was hypnotic and claiming and it slowed all of Orlando’s movements. He moaned helplessly, his neck bending backward as the kiss intensified. He snaked his hands under Eric’s shirt, resting his hands at the small of Eric’s back, tucking his fingers inside the waist band of his pants.

Eric pushed one of his hands under the dress and slid it into the legs of Orlando’s boxers. Fingers crept into his cleft and Orlando moaned throatily as they brushed over his perineum. Hips bucking, Orlando clawed at Eric’s shirt, biting and sucking at his tongue and lips.

And suddenly the fingers were gone. And Eric pulled away from the kiss.

“What?” Orlando panted. “What’s wrong?”

“We don’t have any lube.”

“Don’t you have anything like lube in that man-purse you take every where?”

“It is not a purse! And shuttup or I’ll use the motor oil I have in it.”

Orlando’s eyes darkened. “Find. Something,” he growled.

Nazi’s were one thing, growly, demanding Orlando was another. If pushed, Eric might have to admit he was more than a little intimidated at that moment. He dug into his bag as Orlando dug into his pants. Suddenly very nimble, Orlando unbuttoned and unzipped Eric’s pants, pushed them off his hips and had Eric’s cock in his hand in seconds.

Orlando’s mouth latched onto Eric’s neck, his hand tightened around his cock, stroking insistently. Eric shuddered and he froze, just moaning. Orlando gently bit his neck. “Focus.”

Eric snapped out of the moment and started pulling items from his bag, checking them then discarding them quickly.

“Compass, ugh…gun…nghhh…bullets…Jesus…rope…Orlando….sun screen…ohgod”

“Sun screen?” Orlando mumbled and took Eric’s earlobe between his teeth. “That’ll work.”

Eric ripped his messenger bag over his head and threw off his leather jacket. He coated his fingers with sunscreen as Orlando wriggled out of his boxers. The band caught on a piece of stone and in his impatience; Orlando pulled too hard and ripped the thin material. At least they were off him.

Eric lifted Orlando’s legs, draping them over his arms and kissed up the inside of his thigh as Orlando yanked away the last shred of his boxers. “Lean back.” Slowly, Orlando reclined on the stone foot of the massive statue, resting on his elbows so he could watch Eric. Eric stepped forward so Orlando was safely braced against his body and wouldn’t slip off the statue.

Orlando ran a hand over Eric’s shoulders and head, letting Eric’s thick hair slip through his fingers. Eric drew a damp line of kisses and licks down Orlando’s stomach. He stopped at his bellybutton, taking time to dip his tongue inside. Orlando’s eyes closed, his mouth falling open as Eric sunk his cock deep in his mouth. He moaned loudly, his body shaking as Eric began softly sucking on him. Orlando forced his eyes open. His legs fell from Eric’s shoulders. Eric caught them, holding them in his bent arms. Eric looked up, his cheeks hollowed, and he hummed around Orlando’s cock.

“Ahhh…Jesus…feels so good,” Orlando whispered.

Orlando groaned softly, pleasure rolling through his body. He felt the tease of the tip of Eric’s finger and he gripped the lock of Eric’s hair in his hand. Slowly, Eric pushed his finger into Orlando. He had no idea how long it’d been since Orlando’d had sex and there was no fucking way he was asking. He hadn’t exactly taken vows of chastity himself, but still, Eric didn’t want to know.

Orlando whimpered loudly and clenched his muscles, trying to pull Eric’s finger deeper inside him and any thought of Orlando’s previous lovers flew from his mind. Eric teased some more, pushing at the tight ring of muscle.

“More Eric,” Orlando begged. And Eric pushed a second finger deep inside him.

Orlando bit his lower lip and flexed his legs, pushing his ass forward. Orlando moaned and moved his hand from Eric’s head and braced his hands on the statue trying to fuck himself on Eric’s fingers. Orlando’s body arched, his arms locked to hold him up, his head fell backwards as he struggled to find the leverage he needed.

“Je.Sus,” Eric mumbled. He thrust his fingers deep inside Orlando, twisting then pressing against his prostate.

“Ohgodyes,” Orlando whimpered. “Please.”

Juggling the sunscreen and Orlando, Eric managed to coat his cock and maneuver Orlando’s legs around his waist. He let Orlando slip down a little so that when he laid himself over Orlando, their cocks lined up perfectly, slipping easily against each other.

Orlando lifted his head for a kiss. Eric eagerly opened his mouth to Orlando, his tongue meeting Orlando’s with a needy groan.

“Fuck me,” Orlando panted.

Taking his cock in his hand, Eric kissed Orlando and pressed his hips forward, slipping just inside. Orlando gasped loudly and grabbed the back of Eric’s neck and kissed Eric with much more force than he had been kissed. Eric let Orlando take command of the kiss as he slowly pushed his cock into Orlando.

“Deeper,” Orlando panted. “More.”

Orlando began rocking his body under Eric. He wrapped his arms around Eric’s shoulders, his legs around Eric’s waist. He kissed Eric’s neck, sucking on the spot that he knew would make Eric join him in moving their bodies together. “God, you feel good,” Eric whispered. “Missed you.”

Eric shuddered. Orlando flexed his muscles, massaging Eric’s cock. With a low moan Eric began to pump slowly inside Orlando. The heat of Orlando’s body was almost unbearable. It pushed Eric out and just as quickly sucked him back in. There was no rhythm, the position wasn’t good for anything more than squirming and rubbing their bodies together, but it was more than enough. Eric pushed his cock deep inside Orlando and rocked his hips. He barely moved, but the head of his cock constantly rubbed over Orlando’s prostate. Orlando writhed beneath him, meeting his shallow thrusts, rubbing his cock between their sweaty bodies.

Eric buried his face in Orlando’s neck, growling moans mixed with curses and soft declarations of love. Orlando clung to him, whispering Eric’s name. Over and Over.

They climaxed one right after the other, neither knowing who came first. One’s orgasm bled into and fed the others. Eric’s entire body went rigid as he pushed deep into Orlando one last time. Orlando cried out as Eric filled him, his body constricted around Eric as he came. Eric managed to keep his eyes open and focused on the beautiful sight below him. Orlando watched Eric breathlessly stare at him as wave after wave of ecstasy moved through him.

Eric leaned heavily on Orlando, kissing his neck as he caught his breath. “If we get out of this alive, I want you to come back home with me.”

He kissed Eric’s temple. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily this time. Besides, you burnt down my apartment. I have to go with you. I’m homeless.”

“I didn’t burn down anything. Your crappy aim set off the fire. And I don’t want to get rid of you,” Eric sighed. Orlando’s legs started to slide down Eric’s hips, but Eric wasn’t ready to let go. With his whole body he pushed Orlando further up on the foot of the statue.

Eric was still mostly hard inside him and Orlando groaned with a small aftershock of pleasure. “You left me in the tent,” he teased.

He bit Orlando’s neck. “I told you-” he interrupted his own growl, “What’s that?” He looked up, catching a face full of sand. The statue they had been fucking against seemed to waver in the pale light of the torches. “I think we’d better move.”

He lifted Orlando off him, pulled up his pants and grabbed his jacket, hat and bag. They listened and watched as they moved to the opposite side of the room. The ominous creaking grew louder, echoing echoed around them, then several loud snaps.

“Holy shit,” Eric mumbled and quickly pushed Orlando against the wall and covered their heads with his leather jacket as the statue of Anubis crashed through the wall.

When the dust and dirt settled, Eric peeked over the collar of his jacket and saw the gaping hole the falling statue had torn in the stone wall. Sunlight filtered through the swirling dirt in the air. He jumped on to the pile of rubble and scrambled to the top then ran back down to Orlando.

“We just have to climb a little bit past this pile and then I think we’re out.”

“I need clothes.”

“You have clothes.”

“I have a dress. And ripped boxers. Both smell like sex and coconut. I know you have a spare shirt and pants in that purse of yours. Hand them over.”

Eric grimaced at the word ‘purse’ but pulled the clothes out anyway. “They won’t fit you.”

Orlando rolled his eyes. “Yes, you’re a big brute. Gimme a piece of that rope, I’ll make a belt. The shirt will just have to flap.” He yanked up the pants and frowned. “These are scratchy. I should have grabbed those panties.”

“Are you ready? Or do you want to discuss your lingerie some more?” Eric asked and headed towards the rubble. Then he turned back and Orlando smacked into him.

“What the-”

“Listen, if something happens…if I don’t come back…I just want you to know…”

“Shuttup,” Orlando said quickly, refusal to consider any other possibility written on his face. “You always come back.” He kissed Eric and scampered up the pile of rocks. “Even if it takes you ten years to do it,” he called from the top and laughed.

Eric grinned and started climbing.

~ finis ~
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bloominbabylonfic: (Default)

September 2010

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