Title: Fully-Posable Action Figures
Pairing: EW/OB, LotR RPS, First Time
Length: 2,700 words
For: rosiegamgee, who stroked my ego even while dealing with a week of personal madness.
Series: Part 2 of the Doll series, but this story stands alone just fine. You can find Part 1 here: "Doll."
Disclaimer: I don’t know any of these people — it’s just a lucid fever-dream.
Summary: In which there is much getting of action.
Notes: A sequel to this is in the works: “How to Say I Love You and Other Slips of the Tongue.”
Fully-Posable Action Figures
"What a disaster," said Elijah, looking around his loungeroom. The party had left empty bottles, ashtrays, crushed peanuts, stale chips and some unidentifiable stains scattered around the room in strange clusterings and lopsided constellations.
Orlando was sitting on the couch, contemplating Elijah's collection of action figures with fascination. Earlier in the evening Dom and Billy had taken great delight in positioning all eighteen of them into a diorama they'd labelled, "Getting Action."
"Yeah," he said, dragging his gaze away from the orgy of plastic and looking up at Elijah. "It went off. I'll help you clean up tomorrow, if you like."
Elijah flopped on the couch next to Orlando. "You crashing here?"
"If that's okay," said Orlando. He waved a hand at the action figures. "When they say fully posable they really mean it, don't they?"
Elijah grinned. "Imagine what Dom and Billy would have done if they were anatomically correct!"
"The mind boggles." Orlando picked up the entwined Lex Luthor and Obi-wan Kenobi figures. "I don't think light-sabres are meant to do that," he said, critically.
"Is that position even possible?" asked Elijah. "For humans I mean."
"Yeah," said Orlando. "At least, it is according to the Gay Kama Sutra."
It was a sign of how tired Orlando was that it took him a moment to realise why Elijah was giving him such a weird look.
"You've read the Gay Kama Sutra?" asked Elijah.
"Hasn't everyone," Orlando replied, as casually as possible, trying to shrug the whole thing off. But he could already tell from the look in Elijah's eyes that they were going to be stuck on this topic for a while. Which was bad. This conversation had the potential for huge embarrassment, especially given his whole pervy Elijah fixation.
"No," said Elijah. "I haven't. Was it any good?"
"Was it any good?" Orlando said. "It's the Gay Kama Sutra!"
"Yes, I got that part," said Elijah. "And we've already established that I'm the only dweeb on the planet who's never read it. So I wanna know if it's worth getting hold of a copy."
Orlando shrugged. "It's quite useful if you want to create lewd tableaux of action figures."
"That's... incredibly unhelpful information," said Elijah.
"Well what do you want?" asked Orlando, feeling a little desperate. His body knew what Elijah wanted to talk about, and he was starting to get uncomfortably hard. "Literary criticism?"
"No, ass-wipe," said Elijah. "I wanna know if it's any good for, you know, sex." And then, in case Orlando was in any doubt about his meaning, "Gay sex."
Orlando had just known the conversation was going to come to this point. For one brief, tantalising moment he considered lying. But if he did, Elijah would want actual details, which would be horribly, awfully bad. Worse than bad. Wretched even. Orlando definitely did not want to discuss his dick’s comings and goings with Elijah.
"Dunno, do I?" Orlando admitted reluctantly. He looked down at his hands, unable to meet Elijah’s unselfconscious, curious gaze. "Never tried it."
Elijah stared at him in disbelief for a moment, and then cracked up.
"Yeah, yeah," said Orlando, and carefully manipulated Lex and Obi-wan into an even lewder position: Obi-wan's back bent like a bow, one leg pointing to the ceiling, and Lex thrusting between his thighs while sucking on the light-sabre.
"Why the hell did you read it then?" Elijah asked, still snickering.
And because he was already on a truth kick, Orlando said, "Just in case it ever..." and he could feel the blush rising, but couldn't stop the words, "...came up."
When Orlando looked up, Elijah wasn't laughing any more; he was watching him fiddle with the dolls. Orlando suddenly realised his hands were shaking.
"I think…” Elijah said, and between one blink and the next, the look on his face had changed from casual curiosity to pure sex, “…it just came up."
"God Elijah," was all Orlando had time to say before Elijah was up off the couch and moving towards him.
He caught a quick glimpse of Elijah's crotch, right in front of his face, denim stretched over an obvious erection. Then Elijah was in his lap, shimmying closer so that their groins lined up in a glorious flash of heat.
Orlando tried to wrap his arms around Elijah, realised he was still holding the action figures, threw them away, vaguely hearing them clink against something hard. Then his hands were on Elijah, finally on Elijah, and for a moment all he could hear was the rush of his own blood.
"So," said Elijah, and licked his lips, "where do we go from here?"
The answer to that was obvious, as far as Orlando was concerned. He leaned forward and let his lips brush against Elijah's. He could hear the sudden stutter of Elijah's breath, and fully expected the whole thing to end right there. Instead, Elijah's hand snaked up around his head, pressing them closer into a wet, deep, open-mouthed kiss.
Eventually Elijah pulled away. "Maybe we should find out,” he suggested, his hips moving in counterpoint to each word, “if that position really is doable."
"Mmmmm," said Orlando. Then, despite the protests of his libido, some vestige of commonsense asserted itself. "No. Can't do that one right off. We need to build up to it."
Elijah looked disappointed. “Oh… Well you’re the expert,” he said, with another mind-destroying thrust of his hips. “Build-up it is,” and he went back to kissing Orlando with long, wicked strokes of his tongue. It was lewd and carnal and… full-on no-teasing foreplay.
Even so, Orlando couldn’t quite bring himself to believe that this was really going to be sex, until Elijah slid his unoccupied hand up Orlando’s chest and rubbed it across a nipple, deliberately, provocatively.
Disbelief flew out the window.
“Shirt off,” Orlando said. “Now!” and pushed Elijah back a little, which had the unintended and distracting consequence of causing Elijah’s balls to slide across his erection.
“Woah,” Elijah panted.
“Yeah,” Orlando agreed. Then he remembered the point he’d been aiming for—he rucked his fingers into Elijah’s shirt and pulled it over his head.
God, Elijah was pretty. His nipples were hard and ready to bite. Orlando’s mouth watered.
“Fuck yes!” said Elijah, watching the expression on Orlando’s face. “Do it. Just fucking do it.”
That was fine with Orlando. He’d wanted Elijah for so bloody long, and, by God, Elijah had just given him permission to take! Something inside Orlando—something he hadn’t even realised he’d been keeping chained up—broke loose.
Orlando kicked out with both legs, shoving the coffee table away from the couch with a sound of clashing bottles and toppling action figures. He slid himself forward until they were teetering on the edge of the seat, then rolled them both down onto the coffee-table shaped space on the floor.
“Smooth move,” said Elijah, and stretched out on the carpet. He was surrounded by a halo of bonking idols, like the sacrificial centrepiece in a shrine devoted to a lustful god.
“Needed more room,” Orlando muttered, hovering over Elijah. Then he swooped down and latched onto a nipple, twisting it between his tongue and teeth.
“Yes… Orli, that’s…” Elijah moaned, his body arching up off the floor, trying to press up against Orlando. “God, don’t stop!”
Stopping was the last thing on Orlando’s mind. Elijah was making a hell of a lot of noise, signalling his delight at every thrust of Orlando’s tongue, every scrape of his teeth. Elijah’s animal sounds spiked through him like needles, making his whole body throb. It was everything he’d ever dreamed of, and it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
Orlando sat up, desperate for more skin. His hands went straight to Elijah’s pants; he popped the button, unzipped, hooked his fingers into the waistband and… paused. Part of him was screaming, just do it, do it. But the biggest turn-on for Orlando had always been the idea of making Elijah come undone. So he had to know if it was…
“Okay?” he asked, looking down at Elijah’s flushed face.
Elijah, it seemed, was on the same wavelength, and knew just what Orlando needed to hear. “Suck my dick, Orli,” he demanded, with a voice like gravel.
Orlando wrenched Elijah’s jeans and boxers down to his knees, leaned over and sucked Elijah’s dick like a lollipop.
Elijah groaned and clawed at the carpet with his blunt fingers. From the corner of his eye Orlando noticed that he and Elijah were in exactly the same pose as James Bond and the Incredible Hulk. He closed his eyes. Focused on the warm, smooth, salty flavour in his mouth; on the slick, wet up-and-down slide of Elijah’s skin; on the swirl of his tongue and hard suction. On the sudden, metallic tang of come, as Elijah writhed beneath him in orgasm.
With a little whimper, Elijah went limp and quiet. Orlando lifted his head and looked down at what he had wrought.
Elijah lay spread-eagled, semi-naked and beautiful. He was flushed, panting, and completely debauched. Orlando felt a surge of intense… something in his chest. Because he’d done this. His mouth. His hands. Because of him, Elijah was a glorious, sated wreck.
Orlando’s dick gave a sudden, violent jerk, and he realised that he was still fully clothed and so hard it hurt. He looked down again at Elijah, wondering how long the afterglow would last; and then, in dawning dismay, realised that this was the perfect moment for Elijah to freak out. Now that the urgency of getting off was over.
With a sense of fatalistic acceptance, he scooted down next to Elijah so that he could have a quick cuddle while the afterglow lasted.
Elijah purred, without opening his eyes, and pressed himself closer. Orlando caught his lips in what turned out to be a languid, post-coital kiss. After a torturously long time the kiss trailed off.
This is it, Orlando thought; one freak-out coming up.
Sure enough, Elijah rolled away and sat up. Orlando did his best to blank the disappointed look off his face, but quickly decided he needn’t have bothered. Elijah wasn’t looking at him.
Instead, Elijah was staring at his own feet.
Orlando tried to come up with something soothing to say. He was finding it a little difficult to think clearly, due to the insistent throbbing of his cock. And that’s why it took him a moment to process what Elijah was doing…
…because Elijah was bent over, and at first Orlando thought he was curling up, going fetal…
…but that wasn’t it, because Elijah was stretching, flexing; the muscles in his back rippling with each move…
…and then, with a dizzying full-body zing, Orlando got it.
Elijah was bent over… bent over and yanking at his shoes. He grunted a little as each one came off, before carelessly tossing them across the room. Then he started to kick at his jeans and boxers until they flew off in a clumsy tangle.
Orlando couldn’t move. All he could do was stare. At a totally naked Elijah.
Elijah turned, caught the gobsmacked look on Orlando’s face and grinned in triumph. “My turn,” he said, and lunged, pushing Orlando onto his back and pressing down on him in a head-to-toe body lock.
Orlando felt like he was drowning—there were hands, and kisses and naked Elijah everywhere.
Then Elijah shimmied Orlando’s shirt up high enough that he could get to nipples. The moment his hot mouth touched down, Orlando knew he was in trouble.
"Stop," said Orlando, desperately. “Stop!”
Elijah stopped, looking confused. “Don’t you like it?”
"God, yes!” said Orlando, “but I'm so close. If you even breath on me I'm gonna…"
Elijah backed off, suddenly businesslike. "Come on," he said, waving at Orlando’s pants. "Get these suckers off."
Through very careful placement of his hands, Orlando managed to get his chinos undone without touching himself. He pushed them off, shucked off his shirt for good measure, and lay back down.
“Oh yeah,” said Elijah, staring hard. “Anatomically correct and all accounted for.”
“Elijah,” complained Orlando, ready to burst out of his skin.
“Okay, okay,” said Elijah.
Very careful not to touch him anywhere, Elijah crawled back over him. Then, he slowly lowered himself until they were pressed together, skin to skin. The feel of Elijah’s body was pretty much all it took. Orlando rocked up against him, twice, hard, and came, yelling so loud his throat hurt.
“Jesus fucking God!”
The pleasure was like a wild thing. The rest of the world was gone, and there was just his body and Elijah and an endless, thundering ride. Orlando felt like he was having his very own Revelation—all rushing wings, screaming angels and fiery ascent.
An indefinable time later he opened his eyes to find Elijah staring at him.
“We’re definitely doing that again,” Elijah said, in his decisive, no-fucking-about voice.
“Guh?” said Orlando, discovering that his vocal chords seemed to have melted.
“Yeah, my sentiments exactly,” said Elijah. Then he held out a hand to Orlando. "Come on, let's go to bed. I'm completely done."
With a bit of help from Elijah, Orlando somehow managed to pry himself up from the floor, and together they staggered down the hallway.
“My knees feel like they’re full of rubber bands,” said Orlando, and collapsed onto the bed in relief.
“Poor old man,” said Elijah. “Shove over.”
Orlando managed to inch over a tiny increment, and Elijah happily burrowed into the gap, draping himself generously over Orlando in the process.
“Hey,” said Elijah, sounding on the verge of sleep. "Can I borrow your copy?"
“Copy of what?” asked Orlando, eyes resting on the gentle up-and-down of Elijah’s chest.
“The Gay Kama Sutra,” said Elijah. “Doh!”
"Sure," said Orlando. “I’ll buy you a copy of your own if you like.”
A gentle snore was the only response.
Orlando sighed, breathing in the wonderful sex-smell of Elijah’s sweat. Out of habit, his perv-o-meter went off in response. Glad to be able to ignore it for once, Orlando pressed his nose into the crook of Elijah’s neck. But the niggle of it wouldn’t leave him alone.
Orlando decided that it was a sign. With Elijah tucked up in his arms, it was finally time to admit, at least to himself, exactly how pervy his obsession really was. So he cracked the seal on his secret mental Elijah file and, still basking in the contentment of afterglow, blithely ignored the warnings:
Do not open.
Don’t even think about it!
After all, the perv-factor had led to mind-blowingly hot sex, so how awful could it be?
Orlando took a cautious look inside. Then he slammed the file shut. Very hard.
So it was bad.
Way, way worse than he had expected.
Because it wasn’t just the gay thing… which he’d pretty much already twigged to; or the hot-sex thing… because, duh, carpet burns on both knees already; or the hero-worship thing… which was pretty much a given, with the whole acting deal Elijah had going.
It wasn’t even that Elijah was gorgeous and bossy and older than his years. None of that was a shock to Orlando… he’d been perving at Elijah long enough to know the score when it came to Elijah getting his own way.
No. All of that had been expected; pervy, yes. But expected. It was the other thing that had come as a surprise.
“Bloody hell,” Orlando muttered, not really wanting to admit it; but it was way too late for denial. There was no way to stuff this unwanted knowledge back into the file and forget about it. No matter how much he might want to.
Orlando poked at the truth, like a tongue pokes at a sore tooth.
…he was so, so in love with Elijah.
Doll 3: How to Say I Love You and Other Slips of the Tongue