Liaison

Disclaimer: Here is my disclaimer. Dammit, I don't own Johnny or Orlando, which I think is quite a shame. But if they ever make robot Johnnys and Orlandos, you bet I'd get them... and make them do such nasty things to each other, too. ( ;

~*~

Liaison

Drops of rain clung to the tips of his dark curls, lying seductively across his eyes.

"I had to see you."

Johnny looked up from lighting his fag, whipping the match flame out and tossing it into an ash-stained coffee can. "How long have you been in Paris?"

"As long as it takes for a cab fee to run up 200 francs."

He looked the young actor over scrutinously. "Rains in cabs nowadays, does it?"

"Johnny," Orlando said seriously, his tone edged. "I stood outside your gate."

"Two hundred? It can't be that long from any airport."

"I made the cab wait.... in case I turned back."

They had never been awkward around each other, and so their silence now couldn't be called so. It went deeper then that, and they both knew it. Johnny took the fag from his lips and coughed gently into his palm. Somewhere he'd left a window open. Casually tapping the ash off the end of the cigarette, Johnny sat back on the green ottoman. Behind him sat an unfinished painting, and more of that kind lay scattered about his disheveled studio. Unkempt surroundings suited his artist's eye; various works of his lining the walls up the steps towards the verandah.

Orlando blinked, trying to pinpoint the object of Johnny's attention, but the older actor interrupted.

"Did you think this through?"

"No." Without hesitation.

"Step by step? And I thought spontaneity wasn't you."

The young man smiled wryly. "Inch by inch this whole way from a set in Hollywood. I guess I can admit I haven't been thinking. Only you've been on my mind."

"Sounding more and more like a pop song."

He looked hurt. "Can't you understand how frustrated I've been?" Johnny's quiet expression made him falter, and he crossed his arms. "This isn't some stupid crush. It's-" blushing, he met Johnny's unreadable eyes "-something raw."

Johnny inhaled deeply, expelling the smoke out his nose with a pondering frown on his mouth. Orlando winced. "Raw. Since when?"

Shameful guilt brought his hands to his face, and he mumbled, "Since 'Pirates'."

"So the leather pants and the eye makeup really did it for you."

The young man groaned.

"How can anyone blame you, Orlando. All that swashling of buckles-"

"Can you please take me seriously."

His throaty laughter was subdued as he put the cigarette out. "You're naive."

"And you're being cruel. How can you laugh when I've been standing outside your gate for two hours letting my tab run up."

"That's precisely why I'm finding this so amusing." His eyes were gleaming. "What do you expect to happen now that you're in my house. Want me to give you a jolly rogering? Get out my pirate gear and have at it?"

Orlando opened his mouth, and then closed it just as quickly.

"We're not actors outside the films, young pup."

"I hate it when you call me that."

"Nothing else fits when you're expecting the scene to go dark, and suddenly we're happily together three years later. Then the credits can roll."

His brown eyes were bright and hopeful. "Let's fill in that space then; what happens when the scene goes dark." Water droplets hung in tear drops from the drying tips of his hair.

Rubbing his thumb and forefinger over the rough stubble of his chin, Johnny crumbled the kindling sparks of excitement in Orlando's expression with a sardonic look. "Such a hopeless romantic."

"Stop underestimating me! Can't you understand that I just want to be with you, even for a day? This is more than a friendship, you know that--you sense it too."

Johnny's eyes were pointed upwards as Orlando stood close, hands out as if begging.

"I," he whispered, "just want-"

Abruptly Johnny stood, cleaving Orlando's sentence in half as he took the young actor into his arms. Bloom appeared shocked, tremors cascading down the skin jumping beneath Johnny's pressing fingers. Then Johnny's hands wandered down to squeeze Orlando's arse. He murmured, "Even for a day, huh?" His fingers dug through the denim, causing Orlando to buck his hips against him, eyes wide, mouth open in surprise. "A night has a better ring though, don't you agree?" Their eyes clashed. Then Johnny cupped the back of Orlando's head and forcefully shoved his lips apart with a probing tongue. The young actor's eyes rolled shut and he returned the kiss with as much passion as he could muster. Johnny grabbed a mass of hair and yanked Orlando back.

"Don't play with me," Orlando whispered, fingers gripping Johnny's shirt tightly. The older actor kissed him again, softly, barely brushing his mouth. "Johnny-"

"Do you need a gag?"

Orlando blushed deeply. "I'm not into that-"

"Making a point here."

"Oh."

He held him close again. "I always finish what I start. Or in this case, what you start."

A brilliant smile. "Do you mean it?"

Johnny answered by muffling any other comments by Orlando with his mouth. As they kissed, the rain outside changed direction as a west wind caught up. Orlando drew away, licking his lips.

"Where can we go?"

"Oh, you don't want to just drop and do it here?"

"Johnny..." He glanced around and noticed a stairway. "Where do those lead?"

"To my doghouse."

Throwing the other man a sweet little smile, one that won him many fans, Orlando loosed himself from lanky arms and teasingly danced up two steps. "Conveniently furnished?"

He shook his head. "Doesn't take much with you, does it."

"If you won't tell me, I'll find out myself."

"And if I don't follow you?"

Orlando stopped at the head of the steps and turned around, stripping his sweater from his body and throwing it onto the ground near Johnny's feet. "You will. I need some strong man to come up and shiver me timbers."

"That has to be the worst sexual innuendo I've heard in my life."

Eyes glowing, Orlando started undoing his buckle, dancing back as he played with the clasps on his pants. "I'll give you a real show."

"I suppose it *would* be rude to decline."

"Yes, it would be very *chameau* of you."

"A master of the French language already. You just said 'camel'." Johnny now stood with one foot poised on the first step. His face retreated from Orlando's mischievous enthusiasm. "Are you sure you want me to reach the top of the stairs?"

The young man for a moment appeared unsettled. But he looked passed and onto the wall where the unfinished work lay forgotten. Then he took a deep breath, bringing his eyes back to Johnny's handsome face. "I want you to reach the top of these stairs." He backed up and found the bed, the only piece of furniture in the open loft. Sitting on it, he leaned back, finally stretching on it just as Johnny reached the last stair. He smiled, "Welcome to the doghouse, Mister Depp."

"We get this far just to be formal, Mister Bloom," Johnny said, peeling off his clinging tee shirt and tossing it over a chair. He touched his belt, amused by Orlando's hungry eyes. "Feeling left out?" With a bashful nod, the younger actor crawled to the foot of the bed, waiting for Johnny to come closer. When he came within reach, Johnny felt himself tugged forward by the belt buckle, nimble fingers feeling over the brass square. "Have you-"

"No, I've never." Orlando wasn't meeting his companion's eyes. He was nervous, jittery, and intent upon the belt buckle. The clasps to Johnny's pants suddenly became a complex puzzle he was to solve in front of a critical audience. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he carefully pushed the leather strap through the brass holder, expelling breath as it flapped free. The belt hung loose in front of his eyes. One step closer. Had it hit him yet of what was in front of him? What millions of people wished was in front of them. With two shaking fingers he took hold of the denim and pulled the cloth from the button. The zipper emerged as the final rung on this odd ladder. It was then he faltered, looking back up into Johnny's tilted face with a helpless expression. "Am I ready for this?"

His eyes keeping Orlando's locked in place, Johnny gripped the young man's hand and moved it over the jeans, covering his groin. "This is what you came here for."

"Yes," Orlando whispered, looking away. Firm fingers clamped on his jaw, pulling his face up roughly. "Yes," he said again, staring straight into Johnny's eyes. A roguish smile curled plush lips. Orlando swallowed uneasily, his Adam's apple moving against a smooth palm. Johnny's stark black hair sliced across his eyes and Orlando tried to look away, but the fingers tightened their hold. "You're hurting me."

"I need to know you want this."

"I do. I've said it."

As the rain continued singing outside the walls, Johnny guided Orlando's fingers down his zipper, revealing a nest of hair. He smiled when Orlando did.

"So it's true, no knickers in France."

"That's all you have to say?"

"Do you want me to faint? Break out the trumpet fanfare?" Hooking his hands on the waistband of the worn jeans, Orlando began inching Johnny's pants off his hips. He was barely thinking. It wasn't as if he'd never seen another naked man; it was just what he was going to be doing with this naked man. But Johnny grabbed his wrists and stopped him.

"You're in France, Mister Bloom," Johnny said. He wasn't insulted by Orlando's eagerness, but it didn't seem right to jump ahead of the game. "Ever hear of foreplay?"

"Sorry," he mumbled, face flaming red.

Johnny settled himself on Orlando's knees, pushing the young actor slowly down so that he lay sprawled on the bed. Orlando dug his head, delighted, into the mattress as Johnny scooted up his legs until their groins were in contact, from Orlando's vantage the open fly massaging the treasure awaiting him.

"You've been in the States too long," Johnny informed him, grinding his hips into Orlando, who choked on the surprise. "Too much instant gratification. But here in the Land of Romance we like to draw things out." To him it seemed that Orlando was having trouble breathing, long fingers gripping the coverlet tightly. "If you can't handle this-"

Orlando clenched his teeth. "I can handle it, don't stop." He moaned as Johnny pressed down again, the rough denim grating their growing heat. When Johnny lifted himself off of him slightly, Orlando growled, his eyes popping open. "John-"

"Do you know," he soothed, pressing a finger to Orlando's lips, "we haven't really kissed yet? In a country a kiss was named after?" After digesting, Orlando shot forward, his mouth hungry, but Johnny evaded him by leaning back. "Enjoy it."

"How can I enjoy it if you won't give it to me!" He was flushed with impatience. Falling back on his elbows, he crossly directed his eyes at the wall, following the slanting profile of mixing rain colors.

"Relax. Let the body settle into its own pleasures. And," he leaned over teasingly, "if you want that kiss, you'll have to come and get it." This time Orlando was too quick and caught the back of Johnny's head with his hand. Their eyes battled for moments.

Orlando said huskily "Is this a dream?" and kissed Johnny Depp deeply, plunging his tongue into the hot confines of the actor's mouth, bringing the man down on top of him. Their bodies pressed together, hips grinding of their own accord. Orlando forced Johnny's mouth wider, his fingers tangling in his companion's black hair fiercely, trapping him in the fervent kiss.

Johnny's hands felt over Orlando's chest, his thumbs seeking already hardened nipples and rubbing them savagely until Orlando broke the kiss to moan deep in his throat, a line of saliva trailing between them as a continued connection. The young man writhed under him, hips straining up off the sheets. He licked his lips, which were swollen from kissing and flushed deep red with passion. Johnny planted his mouth on the hollow of Orlando's throat, sucking until the heat grew equal to his tongue. His teeth grazed the skin of Orlando's chest, gently dragging a nipple into his mouth. Above him Orlando was trying to restrain his hands, relax to the ministrations.

Any longer was too long to ask. Orlando shoved his hands down Johnny's pants, dragging them down over the actor's hips and thighs. As they gathered at Johnny's knees, Orlando's gaze found the source of all the heat radiating from Johnny's body and the breath in his body left him in the wake of fear, lust, and a blinding drive. He barely noticed Johnny hold still over him, almost flinching with surprise when the man sat back, entirely exposed.

"You sure know your way around," Orlando said apprehensively.

"Get up on your knees," Johnny told him, shifting so that Orlando could move his legs. When he obliged, Johnny neatly disposed of his jeans. Orlando still wasn't breathing. Then Johnny blatantly caressed the throbbing member before his eyes and regarded Orlando coyly through lowered lashes. "All the way?"

"Yes," he whispered. Johnny's fingers felt like individual rays of heated light massaging his core. He thrust into the callused palm, nearly crying out when the dancing fingers cupped his testicles. Hot breath bathed his ear.

"Let's get started then."

Orlando felt the hands leave him and he whimpered, suddenly muffled by Johnny's mouth engulfing his own in another fiery kiss. His pants were ripped from his legs and thrown off the bed, hands pressing his backside harshly so that he was pushed into Johnny's groin. When their members collided, he fell limp against Johnny's chest.

"Don't give out yet," Johnny warned. He pushed Orlando back onto his knees, then led his shoulders down so that he was supporting his weight on his hands as well. Despite the cold air hanging at the edge of the bed, Johnny could feel the puffs of air from Orlando's mouth level with his cock. "Are you ready to go further?"

Orlando nodded mutely, his body trembling.

Johnny fingered the back of his head, gently pressing it forward. He felt the break of lips touch his tip and waited until Orlando swallowed and opened his mouth. Then he moved his hips forward, pushing himself into Orlando's hot mouth, his hand holding the young man's head steady.

Orlando hesitated, throat moving as his gag reflex reacted to the incursion, eyes rolling shut as Johnny pushed until his cock hit the back of his throat. He felt an unexpected panic, the musky scent of Johnny's sex barraging his nose, heat beating inside his mouth. When he tried to push back, there were Johnny's fingers digging into the back of his head enough to hurt. Feeling trapped, Orlando stretched his mouth wider, denying his fear and taking Johnny in even more.

He threw his head back and groaned as Orlando flicked out his tongue to rub the underside of his organ, hot mouth encircling the upper half of him. Losing himself, he thrust inside Orlando's mouth, hitting the back of his throat hard. Orlando jerked back; Johnny's fingers tightened ruthlessly, holding him still. The young man carefully doused his gag reflex and began to suck vehemently, his hand wandering up to massage Johnny's throbbing sac. As he worked, head bobbing vigorously, Johnny looked down on him, watching with barely any control left as that red mouth glided around him, evoking sensations only a virgin mouth could possibly breach. And then Johnny allowed himself, in his haze of drunken delectation, to picture what they looked like: Orlando Bloom on his hands and knees, desperately sucking at Johnny Depp's cock, his naked body shaking with the fierce bobbing of his head as he took Johnny in deeper every time, pulling him further along the maddening path of absolute pleasure.

But it had to stop. Johnny was falling far too fast. He wound his fingers in Orlando's curls and ripped his head back, enough so that the young man was staring up into his eyes. "Enough," he croaked, feeling the hardened pain drenched pleasure of his throbbing need. Orlando was looking at him wantonly and he smiled, pulling the actor up to kiss him. When he drew back, Orlando was grinning.

"What are you so happy about?"

"I did well my first time."

They were both speaking as if they had just run the Marathon. Johnny pushed his burning desire aside and cupped the side of his young counterpart's face. "You want more?"

"Yes," Orlando prompted.

"Brace yourself on the headboard."

Words came to his lips, and he was afraid again. Johnny must have caught the expression, and touched his face gently, thumb brushing Orlando's lower lip. A mouth replaced the hand, searching tongue conquering his own and dominating the kiss. Orlando tilted his head for better access, pushing against Johnny. When they drew back, his eyes remained lowered and fixed on that insatiable mouth, finger trailing up to touch it.

Johnny grabbed Orlando's wrist, tension sparking between their colliding gazes. He murmured against his lips, "Brace yourself."

Eyes pulling silent reassurance from the older man, Orlando turned around, shoulders growing tense.

"I promise it won't hurt."

"Silly promise," Orlando said without turning around.

When Orlando had gripped the edge of the headboard, his whole back bared, the older actor came up behind him, his erection barely brushing the cleft of his arse.

"Oh, God," Orlando whispered brokenly.

"I'll be gentle."

"No," Orlando's voice was small. "Don't make it easy." He shifted, the cleft of his buttocks taking in just the tip of Johnny's erection. They both made small noises in the back of their throat. "Do it," Orlando urged in a strained tone.

"I promise-" he bit the lobe of Orlando's ear "-I'll soon have you begging." He drew back enough so that only the shadow of his touch would tighten Orlando's skin, torturing him with anticipation. Careful to be slow, Johnny reached around Orlando's waist and gripped him between the legs, squeezing gently. Beneath him Orlando sighed with deep contentment. Then he tightened his grip and started to stroke him, jerking the growing erection firmly as Orlando began to writhe and whimper, his head dropping beneath the line of his shoulders.

Johnny smirked, leaning up to whisper, "Do you want it?"

"Yes," he blurted as Johnny eased into a faster rhythm, knuckles jarring against his testicles as his hips writhed of their own will. "Yes! God-"

"No," Johnny corrected. "You know who I am."

"Johnny," Orlando moaned, "Johnny! Don't stop..." He began shoving himself into Johnny's hand, his beautiful back arching in pleasure. "Harder. More..." His backside was swallowing Johnny's erection, but he barely noticed.

Then, as Orlando's head fell again, red mouth thrown wide open in unspoken euphoria, Johnny abruptly took his hand away, followed by an agonized cry of outrage from Orlando. But he took the opportunity and covered the actor's mouth, shoving two fingers inside. Almost grudgingly, still resenting the sudden loss of friction, Orlando sucked on the digits, thoroughly wetting them with his tongue. Johnny, satisfied, took them away. Then he drew the wet fingers down the middle of Orlando's back, conjuring a palpable shiver. And when he reached the slight dimple at the base of Orlando's back, he pressed it, as if in question.

Orlando squeezed his eyes shut. "Please..."

Centimeter by tiny centimeter he pushed inside of Orlando, savoring the heavenly tightness almost too strong for his fingers to push through. His erection throbbed as if yearning for it. And Orlando himself was clenching his teeth, bending his back inwards as Johnny's middle finger brushed his prostate. Orlando's pale skin was beaded with sweat, shining pearly in the rain's reflective light. Johnny spread his fingers; loosening, fitting. Orlando purred like a cat, pushing back, and Johnny brought his fingers out.

He positioned himself at Orlando's entrance, the aforementioned having fallen silent. Carefully he gripped the young man's hips. Then, looking at the back of Orlando's head, at the sweaty curls falling gently into the nape of a graceful neck, he said, "Orlando."

"Do it, please." His voice was barely audible, muscles along his arms and legs tensing under anticipation. But for what, he still couldn't fathom. "Johnny..."

Leaning down so that his hardened nipples grazed the detailed shoulder blades protruding in trepidation on Orlando's back, Johnny rested his forehead over the nape of the young man's neck. His body was screaming with desire, urging him to push forward. And so he replied, closing his eyes as the shocking pleasure erupted inside when he shoved inside of Orlando, gasping with dizzy rapture.

It hurt with a quick, sudden burn that wrung an unbridled cry from his throat. His breath strained, knees buckling as the crowded sensation of being so swiftly filled crashed into his body. But the marvel of being entered faded as Johnny kissed the back of his neck, hands gingerly petting his erection. Orlando rocked back, impaling himself further, flexing his muscles and echoing Johnny's great sigh. The older man drew out of him, breath already becoming heavier; hot-cold puffs of moisture on Orlando's back. When Johnny thrust into him again, harder this time, Orlando bit his lip, holding back a cry.

His fingernails dug into Orlando's sides as he thrust in and out of the young actor. Their hips coming together made a loud slapping noise, nearly drowned out by Orlando's thick urges. Johnny gritted his teeth, pushing harder, eyes locked on the back of the young man's head.

"Johnny," he moaned, rocking back and forth in time with the man's hard thrusts, sweat trickling down into his eyes. The terribly sweet tension building in his erection burned a hot trail up his spine, rendering him blind by the grip of Johnny's hand playing him like a violin, maneuvering him as he pleased. Every sense blared that he was being dominated and he sunk into it, words failing in a mash of nonsense from his lips. He was helpless in Johnny's hands, but he wanted it that way: never to stop. Johnny was thrusting so deep inside of him, brushing the part of him that sent vertiginous shocks of heated, electrifying pleasure rampant through his body, setting his nerves ablaze. His fingers were clenched so hard over the headboard that they were white. More, he wanted to say. Deeper, he wanted to beg, but only sounds would emerge from his numb mouth. Yet Johnny seemed to read his mind.

Taken by the vigor of their passion, Johnny grunted with the effort to move faster, crashing in and out of Orlando with a coercive force that shook the younger man's body through. Then, as Orlando threw his head back with an especially vibrant cry, Johnny reached forward and tangled his hand in Orlando's hair, yanking him up. The young man groaned, arching. As Orlando's gasps turned to a higher pitch, Johnny began to ride him, keeping a tight hold on his hair so that his pale throat was bared to the window, lips forced apart by his position. The wanton image began to break Johnny down, the pleasure spiraling up to new heights as his hips continued to strive against Orlando's backside, torturing and pleasing them both at once.

It was Orlando's voice that brought him crashing down, his thrusts becoming erratic, desperate as the tight hot pull became too much.

Just a whimper. "Take me."

They both cried out, Orlando jerking sharply as Johnny came inside of him. He felt himself pour out into Johnny's palm. Exhaustion was quick to follow the aching afterglow, and he leaned forward with his head on his crossed arms. Johnny was still moving slowly inside of him, easing off the dynamic climax. It felt irrepressibly good and Orlando flexed, holding the older man as he finally stilled.

Covering Orlando, Johnny gently turned the actor's head and kissed him. It was gentle and sweet. When they drew away, it was only to look into each other's eyes. Smiling, Johnny kissed him again, softly on the mouth, and then pulled back, drawing slowly out of Orlando. By the wince he caught crossing the other man's face, there was a pang of uncomfort, and he stroked the pale back with his hand.

"Are you all right?"

Orlando nodded, his eyes heavy lidded.

Johnny lay down, spent, and Orlando lay down with him, nestled in his arms. Outside, the rain still streaked the air, little shadows sprinkling cheerily across their faces. Orlando closed his eyes, fingers feathered out over Johnny's chest. Caressing the side of his face, Johnny angled Orlando's head to kiss him with the last remaining ferocity of their spent passions. Orlando weakly returned it, his mouth comfortably warm.

Burying his head in the crook of Johnny's neck, Orlando licked the hot skin, smiling as Johnny began to stroke his hair. "I'm having an affair," he said, "with a Frenchman."

"No, not affair. Remember, you're in France now." Johnny turned his face up and kissed him. "It's Liaison."

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A/N: Urg. I have Johnny Depp on my desktop, and he's staring at me... I feel so guilty! *shifty eyes* But not really.....

~*Villain*~