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stormatdusktitle: We Do
by:![[livejournal.com profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stormatdusk
pairing: orlando/elijah
rating: r
words: 400
summary: elijah reflects. written for![[livejournal.com profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
orlijah_month
a/n: foritstonedme
The world doesn't know about us.
They don't know about the first time I saw you. How you walked into the room where I was talking with Peter and Fran, and instantly my pulse surged and something in me whispered, yes, yes. How you offered your hand, smiled at me, said, "Orlando Bloom; pleased to meet you," and I could barely respond. How to this day I can't recall anything else from that first day I knew you, that first time you entered my life, because all my senses were so resplendently full with you.
They don't know about the first time I kissed you. How we knew it was coming, had made plans to go out that evening, just the two of us, get some dinner, and talk about what was becoming so obvious but was as yet unnamed. How I finished my last scene and suddenly could not - - could not - - wait until later, and how I came to your trailer still in costume to find you, half-you, half-Legolas, all beautiful. How I pulled you to me and touched my lips to yours, and how we found the answer, right then, to that most exquisite of all questions.
They don't know that we've been together since. That we see each other often - - though never enough - - at your set and at mine; in London, in Iowa, in Los Angeles; at hotels, in the home we quietly share. How we love to spend holidays with our families, to celebrate ordinary days just the two of us. They don’t know that we've committed our lives to each other, that our souls are bound, that we bind them again and again, willingly and completely.
They don't know that I fucked you last night. They don't know that we undressed each other, fell into each other again for the first time and for the thousandth. That we reclaimed each other with greedy mouths and tender words. They don't know how you felt under me last night, writhing and grasping and alive, coming apart under my hands, coming around my cock, buried so deep inside you that I'll never find my way out, never want to. That we fell asleep together as we always do, wrapped up in each other and dreaming sweetly of forever.
No, they don't know about us.
But we do.
end
by:
stormatduskpairing: orlando/elijah
rating: r
words: 400
summary: elijah reflects. written for
orlijah_montha/n: for
itstonedmeThe world doesn't know about us.
They don't know about the first time I saw you. How you walked into the room where I was talking with Peter and Fran, and instantly my pulse surged and something in me whispered, yes, yes. How you offered your hand, smiled at me, said, "Orlando Bloom; pleased to meet you," and I could barely respond. How to this day I can't recall anything else from that first day I knew you, that first time you entered my life, because all my senses were so resplendently full with you.
They don't know about the first time I kissed you. How we knew it was coming, had made plans to go out that evening, just the two of us, get some dinner, and talk about what was becoming so obvious but was as yet unnamed. How I finished my last scene and suddenly could not - - could not - - wait until later, and how I came to your trailer still in costume to find you, half-you, half-Legolas, all beautiful. How I pulled you to me and touched my lips to yours, and how we found the answer, right then, to that most exquisite of all questions.
They don't know that we've been together since. That we see each other often - - though never enough - - at your set and at mine; in London, in Iowa, in Los Angeles; at hotels, in the home we quietly share. How we love to spend holidays with our families, to celebrate ordinary days just the two of us. They don’t know that we've committed our lives to each other, that our souls are bound, that we bind them again and again, willingly and completely.
They don't know that I fucked you last night. They don't know that we undressed each other, fell into each other again for the first time and for the thousandth. That we reclaimed each other with greedy mouths and tender words. They don't know how you felt under me last night, writhing and grasping and alive, coming apart under my hands, coming around my cock, buried so deep inside you that I'll never find my way out, never want to. That we fell asleep together as we always do, wrapped up in each other and dreaming sweetly of forever.
No, they don't know about us.
But we do.
end
