Sekrit Slasha

Slasha, Baby is the LOTR RPS Fanfiction holiday fic exchange. This story depicts real-life public figures engaged in completely fictional, false and untrue activities. It never happened. This story is a work of fantasy and satire which in no way professes to express the truth about the life, thoughts, feelings, desires, opinions, beliefs, activities or sexual orientation of any person mentioned herein.

So fucking clichéd

Title: So fucking clichéd
Pairing: Karl Urban / Orlando Bloom
Rating: NC 17
Summary: Porn. With staplers and paper clips. That's about it.

"This is so fucking clichéd," Orlando gasps, his hands clutching Karl's broad shoulders.

Karl just laughs, his thigh pressing firmly between Orlando's, and nudges Orlando's chin with his nose so he can get to his neck. When he starts sucking, right above the collar of Orlando's shirt, Orlando both groans and tries to push him off.

"I'm not leaving this closet with bite marks all over me," he protests, manages get his hand between their chests. He pushes hard, but keeps his fist wrapped around Karl's tie so he doesn't move too far away. Not that there's really a chance for it, confined as this space is.

"But you'd look really hot," Karl argues while his fingers play with Orlando's shirt and pull it out of his trousers. The only light in this room comes from under the door, dimly reminding Orlando that there is an outside world, one with people in it that might stand outside the door just this moment, one that doesn't only consist of them, right here.

"Really hot," Karl repeats and Orlando knows that coaxing voice just as he knows Karl's cheating lips that nuzzle his chin now and along the line of his jaw.

"I'd look like you'd fucked me in the closet," Orlando corrects him, his firm voice undermined by his hips apparent need to push against Karl's, to keep at least their lower bodies tightly pressed against each other. "During the office Christmas party."

Karl's hands lose some of their urgent franticness and he catches Orlando's quivering inhale with his mouth when his fingers start stroking naked skin with teasing gentleness.

"You're right," he all but whispers against Orlando's mouth, "this really is fucking clichéd."

"Don't," Orlando starts, gets side-tracked when Karl's hand slides lower, cups the bulge in Orlando's pants and rubs lightly. "Don't stop."

Karl's mouth is next to his ear, his breath hot against Orlando's skin. \0xD1But,\0xEE he whispers, amusement warming his voice, "Orlando, someone might hear us!"

Orlando growls and Karl chuckles, both of them know that Orlando's shyness is an easy button to push but that his reticence towards any form of PDA in the office does not include the supply storage. Proving that to be true once more, Orlando pulls Karl in by his tie, so much determination behind that that they all but stumble against one of the shelves with staplers on it, causing the metallic frame to creak loudly. Both of them freeze and listen intently.

"Someone will have heard that," Karl whispers, hand on Orlando's hip and on his fly. The distant noise from the party seems loud to Orlando's ears now, like their entire office really is just outside the door. Still --

"I don't care. As long as the next thing they hear is --" Orlando can't finish, groans instead when Karl pulls his zipper down and his fingers stroke over the soft cotton of Orlando's briefs, that touch alone being enough to make Orlando's knees threaten to buckle.

"Is what?" Karl asks against Orlando's mouth, he exhales -- all amusement gone now -- when Orlando pushes up into his hand, all but rips Karl's shirt out of his trousers and open to finally get his hands on skin. "What'd they hear, Orlando, huh? Would they hear you begging me not to stop, hm? 'Karl, don't stop doing this?'"

He pushes his hand into Orlando's briefs, wraps his fingers around Orlando's hard cock and there is no teasing, no gentleness to his touch now, his breathing growing heavier and encouraging as Orlando fights to not just give in and start begging like a needy slut. He leans heavily against the shelves and all that saves him is Karl's equally dark groan when Orlando grips the short hair on the back of his head and pulls him in for a kiss. It's messy and it's fucking loud, both of them groaning and Karl cussing against Orlando's lips when Orlando manages to get his belt open and pushes his hand down the back of Karl's trousers, cups his ass possessively.

"God, I want you," Karl says, breath still coming in stutters, as he leans his forehead against Orlando's. His hand is still stroking Orlando's cock, sure and steady and just like Orlando likes it and Karl knows it.

"Karl," Orlando replies because what else is there to say. Right this moment there is nothing else but Karl and Orlando's need for him.

"I always want you," Karl murmurs, his other hand now finding Orlando's cheek and his thumb strokes over Orlando's cheekbone. "Can't help myself sometimes."

Orlando smiles at that and when he leans in to press a soft kiss onto Karl's lips he can feel the responding smile right there.

"I can tell," he says, meaning the closet and how once again they found their way into it. "What is it with office supplies that turns you on like that, huh?"

It's a stupid joke, not the least bit funny, but sometimes -- times like this -- this thing he feels for Karl is so much bigger than anything that Orlando can handle, seems too big not just for this closet but for Orlando's heart as well and so he jokes, makes light of the situation, yeah?

Karl knows it and Orlando thinks he loves him even more for understanding it, too. So when he replies there is that same ridiculous lightness in his voice.

"So, how about the next thing that people outside hear is --" he asks and adds a slurping noise, similar to how he sounds when Orlando made that Asian tomato soup and Karl insists that it tastes better when slurped.

Orlando snorts but tightens his grip on Karl's ass, rubs his cheek against Karl's, light evening stubble a stark contrast to his skin.

"What?" he asks. "You drinking a milkshake?"

Karl chuckles, a sound that changes into a low groan when Orlando can't help himself but closes his mouth over Karl's Adam's apple and sucks. Karl pushes him back though, ignores Orlando's growled protest and kisses it away.

"No," he then murmurs, "I was thinking more about me sucking you off."

Orlando snorts, that ridiculous slurping sound still clear in his ear, but even if he wanted to, he can't think of a joke now.

"Please," he says instead, "please." And his hand on Karl's shoulder instantly tries to push him down, he can't wait to get him to his knees.

"Greedy," Karl comments but lets himself be pushed down, kneels as gracefully as he can manage, knocks against two of the shelves anyway because this place is cramped and his legs are long.

Orlando stares down at him, eyes as wide as his breathing is frantic and he fears he might hyperventilate just from that sight. Karl's looking up at him, his tie still around his neck but askew now and there is such a hungry look in his eyes as he pulls Orlando's slacks down to his thighs for better access. Orlando hisses when he leans back and the metal of the shelf is cold against the naked skin of his ass. Karl's hair is a mess, Orlando's frantic hands have been the cause for it, and Orlando now reaches down to smooth it, fingers quivering as Karl leans in and he can feel the warmth of his breath against the wet head of his cock.

Karl pushes up the front of Orlando's shirt, to get that out of the way as well, and he presses a kiss against Orlando's stomach, right above his belly button. The touch is so soft and slow, not at all what Orlando's body expected, what it needs. And yet a shiver runs right through him as this gentleness completely throws him off balance for a moment, makes his need return with so much more vengeance in the next.

"Karl," he whispers as his stomach muscles quiver against the soft touch of Karl's hand now. "Please, please, come on, your mouth," he continues quietly, the begging loud and clear in his voice.

"You're so damn hot," Karl murmurs, almost reverently, his eyes not meeting Orlando's but firmly fixed on Orlando's cock, hard and wet and curving up against his belly.

Orlando grips the shelf for support, hand knocking over a few staplers, when Karl's lips touch the head of his cock, and he bites down hard on his lower lip to not shout out. Karl's mouth is wet and hot, his lips pressing around the crown of his dick and it makes him want to keen and come right then and there and it still makes him greedier than ever.

"God," he breathes, hands tight in Karl's hair. "God, Karl I --"

Karl's response is immediate, he takes Orlando in further and Orlando's eyes slam shut when he sucks hard, pleasure shooting through his body, and it's still not enough, it can ever be enough when you're as addicted as Orlando is to Karl, to this.

He tries to hold back, tries to give Karl a moment to adjust, and focuses on the almost painful grip Karl's hands have on his hipbones, focuses on the cold metal of the shelf and the dim strip of light under the door. But to no avail, Karl's around him and the pressure of his tongue against Orlando's dick is just right and still --

"I can't --" he chokes out, need and apology mixing together until he can't tell them apart anymore. He grips Karl's head, fingers digging into the back of his skull, and he pulls him in, thrusts his hips hard. The back of Karl's throat refuses to yield, hard pressure against the head of his cock, and Karl makes a choking noise, jerks like all his body's reflexes tell him to pull back. But the grip on Orlando's hips doesn't falter, and Orlando won't pull back, can't pull back. He pushes in even harder, mouth open as he looks down at Karl, at the tear that runs down his cheek and the wetness in his eyes when he directs them up at Orlando. And still Orlando is not where he needs to be, can't get in all the way, won't stop pressing either. His hand slides down from Karl's head to his throat, cups it and strokes it lightly, and Karl groans lowly right before his throat finally gives way.

One second his thrust is met with seemingly unyielding resistance and the next he can slide further, feels Karl's throat contracting around his dick as he pushes it in so deep that Karl's lips close around the base of his cock and he keeps it there. The feeling is amazing and Orlando nearly buckles under the intensity of it. He groans long and low, then he starts moving a little, his thrusts only aiming to get him deeper yet every time, and Karl's throat is contracting around the head of his cock, swallowing him continuously.

He knows Karl can't breathe like that and maybe he would care, maybe he would if he hadn't decided that right now Karl does not need to breathe, if he wasn't sure that Orlando's pleasure, his dick down his throat was all Karl needed. He stops thrusting altogether, buried as deep as it gets and licks his lips as Karl's possessively close around the base of his cock and Karl stays like that, his nose lightly touching Orlando's belly.

"Look at me," Orlando whispers, strokes through Karl's hair and instantly Karl's eyes shoot up, the wetness gone and replaced by a drunken haze. Orlando pulls back an inch, just enough for his dick not to block Karl's breathing for a moment, and Karl's nostrils flare as he inhales a huge gulp of much needed air, and another and another and right before Orlando can't stand it anymore, needs to push back in to feel that tightness again, Karl sucks him back in, slightly rises on his knees to get another angle and to get him deeper yet.

Orlando's responding gasp sounds broken, strange to his own ears, and there is that need again, stronger than ever and he doesn't know how to handle it. He nearly sobs with relief when Karl pulls back, eases the suction and wraps a cold hand around the base of his cock as his tongue toys with the head.

"Your fucking mouth," Orlando chokes. When Karl chuckles smugly he is glad because it gives him something else but this raging thing inside of him to focus on. "You're vindictive, you know that?" he says accusingly, his fingers curling around Karl's ear.

Karl pulls away enough to talk but his lips still brush against Orlando as he says, "How is you fucking my throat like a wild thing vindictive of me?"

"Whose fault is it we're in here?"

"Yours. You were giving me these looks from across the room," Karl replies, tongue lapping at Orlando's cock in between words and making it insanely difficult for him to focus.

"Shut up," he therefore says automatically but of course he can't let it go. "Looks? When was that? When I was at the buffet or when I was talking to Mr. Tidwell about the Crane accounts?"

Instead of replying Karl just takes him into his mouth again and sucks hard.

"Fucking cheat," Orlando growls helplessly but whines when Karl pulls back again.

"Do you want me to stop?"

The noise of the party abruptly grows much louder for a moment, like someone has opened the door to step out.

Footsteps follow and someone says, "Jesus, have you seen Dom from IT? He is so shitfaced."

A second deeper voice laughs and replies, "What gave you that idea? The fact that he's wearing his underwear over his pants?"

Orlando holds his breath because the voices grow louder, the two speakers clearly walking down the hallway that leads to the supply closet. Karl however? His shoulders shake in silent laughter and Orlando can see the glee in his eyes when their gazes meet. Orlando shakes his head in response, somewhat frantic but still very very silent, and he doesn't even know what he is saying 'NO!' to. But of course Karl ignores him.

"I heard that was Bean's idea," continues the first voice, definitely female. "You know, from management?"

Karl licks over Orlando's cock and Orlando repeats the frantic headshake.

"Really?" says the male voice. "Wouldn't have pegged him for it. He looks like such a bore, you know?"

Orlando's heart nearly stops when both of the footsteps stop and it takes his brain a second to process that the door one of the two is rattling on isn't the one to the closet but the one directly opposite of it. Only in the very last second his fist finds his mouth so he can muffle his groan because Karl sucks him down again just as the male voice says,

"Fuck it. Who locked up the door?"

"Dunno, the cleaning staff?" guesses the woman, giggling.

Karl's teeth deliberately scrape against the underside of Orlando's cock, all the way as he pulls back almost completely and Orlando can feel the burn, feels the responding burn in his eyes from the effort to not make a sound.

"You got your keys on you?" asks the man.

"Don't think so. Wait a sec..." Rustling of clothes.

Karl sucks Orlando back in and Orlando's other hand finally remembers how to move, twists in Karl's hair in an effort to hold him back. But of course all that does to Karl is spur him on further and Orlando has to bite down on his lower lip painfully hard when Karl's fingers reach around him and start playing with his ass as he swallows Orlando down completely again.

"Shit. Must've left my keys at our table," says the woman, so loud and clear that Orlando can't think of anything else but that she stands not five feet away from where he is, currently getting his dick sucked. If he could think clearly he'd probably even know the voices -- he's getting head while two of his colleagues stand right next to him, Jesus fucking Christ.

"Let's get them then," says the male voice.

The woman giggles again. "And now," she says before the sound of their footsteps indicates that they walk back to the main rooms.

"I will kill you," Orlando hisses as soon as they are out of immediate earshot. "Honest to fucking God kill you."

Karl hums, which may have been 'you can try' but he still has his mouth full of cock and Orlando can't understand him properly. He growls again, reaches behind himself to grip the shelf and steady himself before he thrusts hard into Karl's mouth, groans when Karl takes that exact second to press his dry fingertips against Orlando's hole. They don't slide in, no lubricant and no previous prep making it near impossible, but the pressure alone and Karl's throat working around him are enough to push him over the edge.

The metal shelf clatters loudly as Orlando all but falls against it and he can't hold back the loud groan but he can't hear either of the sounds properly, can't care about them at all because his blood is rushing like thunder in his ears and all he can focus on is filling Karl's mouth with his come.

Karl's hands find his hips again, to help he stay upright and to hold on to him. Orlando feels like he is still coming when the intense warmth and suction is suddenly gone. He manages to open his eyes and watch Karl get up from his knees, hand gripping Orlando's shirt and his tie as he does so, and he stares at Karl's mouth and parts his lips in anticipation of the kiss he is dimly aware is to come.

Karl's mouth is on him, God, that fucking mouth, and the kiss is hard, demanding. His lips taste intensely salty, Orlando's mind fleetingly registers it even before what feels like his entire load of come is pushed back into his mouth. He groans and presses his tongue against Karl's to share the taste with him, grunts when Karl leans against him and rubs his own hard cock against Orlando's thigh in something like mindless frantic need.

Even though his mind is still hazy from the orgasm, Orlando's body takes charge. His right hand finds the back of Karl's head, holding him close so he can feed him back his come, while his left wraps around Karl's rock hard cock and starts jerking him off. Karl groans low in his throat, a sound so desperate that all Orlando can think is that he wants to take that sound from him and own it, that he will never stop kissing him, never let him go, never let him come down from this helpless high. And even though Karl struggles, powerful muscles straining as he tries to regain any sort of control over himself, Orlando doesn't slow down, doesn't give him a chance to compose himself, wills him to come right now and just like this.

He feels the wetness coating his hand and his belly even before Karl seems to realize that he's coming and he strokes him through it as Karl shudders, his mouth completely pliant and just there for Orlando to possess as he comes, spurt after spurt, into Orlando's tight fist.

Only when Karl's breathing has slowed down a little, Orlando loosens his grip and Karl pulls back a little, lips moving against Orlando's in an almost chaste kiss. Orlando swallows the rest of the come, the taste of which is still heavy on his tongue. He can feel the press of Karl's hand against his chest, warmth reaching his skin even through the fabric of his shirt.

"I love you," Karl says quietly and smiles against Orlando's mouth as he reaches up to straighten Orlando's tie.

"I love you more," replies Orlando, smiles, too, when Karl laughs.

"Not true."

"So true," Orlando insists. "I regularly let you drag me into supply closets and I have your come on my hand. Isn't that proof enough? Of the level of my love?"

"You protest too much," says Karl. "I'm pretty sure you enjoyed all the lunch breaks spent in here. As for the come, we're in a supply closet, there has to be something you can wipe that off with."

"Like what exactly? Staplers? Paper clips? We work in accounting, Karl, not in a porn studio. There are no mountains of tissues in our supply closet."

Karl waits for another second or two even after Orlando has finished and lowered his (come smeared) hand with which he was gesturing.

"Jesus fuck," escapes his lips when Karl grips his wrist, lifts his hand to his mouth and just starts cleaning it with his tongue.

"See, all prim and proper again," he says quietly after he's finished and licks his lips that sport a smug smile.

"You --," murmurs Orlando, still staring at Karl's mouth like it had hypnotized him. Only long moments later he tries again. "I mean. You know, I don't hate this closet."

Karl laughs and pulls back enough to pull up his trousers again, something that Orlando instantly does as well.

"Don't hate?" Karl quotes as he stuffs his shirt back into his trousers. "Two negatives, wow, that's some intense emotion there."

"Oh, shut up," Orlando mutters good naturedly and pulls a face when he remembers the wayward splatters of come that he has now drying under his shirt on his belly. "Staplers still aren't romantic."

Karl waits until Orlando has zipped up again then he lightly grips Orlando's tie to pull him in for another kiss. "So, what is romantic then, in your opinion?"

"I dunno," replies Orlando, deepening the kiss for a short moment before pulling himself together. "Our bed, you tied to the headboard and completely at my mercy for hours and hours?"

Karl hums approvingly and strokes down Orlando's chest.

"Or the other way around," Orlando continues, stuffing his shirt back into his trousers while still lightly kissing Karl. "Either way is fine with me."

"I don't disagree with that," Karl says and finally pulls back. He runs his hands through his hair, straightening it, and waits for Orlando's nod before he pushes the closet door open again. Orlando follows him out.

On the opposite side of the hallway, not six feet away, stands a man with his back to them, obviously trying to open a door. A woman in a short black dress leans against the nearest wall, patiently waiting even if grinning. Orlando recognizes her, it's Liv from exports, and now that he sees her he can put a face to the female voice earlier as well. Which would make him 'Larry, Harry? Something like that.

"Hi guys," says Karl who apparently has never heard of sneaking away unnoticed so no one asks what they were doing in the supply closet.

"Oh hi!" greets Liv cheerfully. "What were you doing in the supply closet?"

Orlando blushes as hard as Karl grins as he blindly reaches for Orlando's hand, mostly to keep him from running away.

"Looking at staplers," Karl says, still with a huge smile.

"Really?" she asks.

"Jesus fuck," Orlando mutters and Karl grips his hand a little tighter.

"Great party so far, yeah?" says Larry-Harry, pointedly looking at their joined hands before his own finds the small of his companion's back.

"If you excuse us now," says Liv and lets herself be pushed through the now open door, "Harry and I... need to sort paper clips."

To his credit, Karl only bursts out laughing when Harry has shut the door behind them.

"We're going home now," Orlando decides. "Before you get it into your head that it's a good idea to shag me on the photocopier."

Karl uses his grip on Orlando's hand to pull him against him and then wraps an arm around his shoulder. Automatically Orlando leans in and buries his face in Karl's neck, presses his nose against the warm skin right above his collar. Karl hums contentedly in response and Orlando feels so very stupidly blessed. It's only a moment later that he realises where Karl is leading them despite his pre-emptive veto.

"Karl, I am not coming to the office on Monday to find my cubicle decorated with a hundred copies of my arse. I mean it. Once is quite enough."

Created by megolas, revised by yueni
fabulous artwork ©2002 by Hope
Moderated by MSilverstar & feelforfaith