salixbabylon | Fic: Assurance (1/1)

Title: Assurance
Author: Salix
Email: salixbabylon@yahoo.com
Word Count: 3174
Pairing: Orlando/Eric/Karl
Rating: NC-17
Archiving: My site, Aniron, CIB, Mirrormere, VOLA, list archives, and others upon request ONLY.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Complete fiction. I am implying nothing about the real sexual preferences of the actors herein. Absolutely no disrespect is meant to them.

Summary: Eric explores the world of submission, voyeurism, and pain with Orlando and Karl.

Author's Notes: Written for

mercyisme, who wanted "Eric/Karl/Orlando with a toppy Orlando and a bit (or lot) of kink." Thank yous to

heartofslash and

sileya for being my wonderful betas, and to

justinetre and

lostiawen for ad-hoc consultation.

Warnings: Threesome. Kink/BDSM/pain-play, fully consensual.

Assurance

1.
Eric is uneasy, and although Orlando has tried to reassure him, he remains ill-assured. It's all too planned, too directed, to be impulsive. Coincidental. Orlando's not quite surprised enough.

And yet, how surprised should Orlando be? It's perfectly reasonable for Karl to invite Orlando over for the premiere of "Riddick," and for Orlando to bring Eric, since they are in LA working on DVD commentary for "Troy." Perfectly normal for Karl to drink to excess; it's his premiere and he's with his mates. Perfectly normal for Orlando to drink to excess; four glasses of champagne is two glasses too many, and he's thrilled to be celebrating with Karl. Not so perfectly normal for Eric to have too much, as if he's purposefully lowering his inhibitions –- no... reactions... or maybe responses... yes, responses -- around his current lover celebrating with his former slave. Sub. Casual fuck-mate while in New Zealand. Whatever.

Eric doesn't play kinky games like that. He and Orlando fuck. Orlando loves him, of course – it's their running joke with the Press. Not such brotherly-type love when Orlando has him bent over the arm of the sofa, Eric's arms twisted helplessly and somewhat painfully back in a half-Nelson. He could break out of it, of course; he outweighs Orlando by at least twenty kilos. But he doesn't. He likes it. Even the discomfort, the burn of straining muscle, feels good.

Tonight, though, Eric remains uneasy, despite knowing these things. He knows Orlando loves him. Knows Orlando and Karl "played" in New Zealand but never after that, and that it was purely casual even then. Eric trusts Orlando, knows that if Orlando wanted to fuck anyone else, he would ask Eric about it first. Inform. Or ask. Whatever. Orlando is honest, scrupulously so in his relationships, and growing more so as his public image flirts closer and closer with dishonesty. But if Orlando wanted to fuck Karl, Eric knows he would hear about it before it happened.

Eric also trusts Karl. He's a good mate, no hard feelings at all, no brooding even, when he and Orlando went their separate ways when filming ended. No "for old time's sake" lines or undue flirting or even longing looks from those mischievous, changeable eyes. No excessive licking of those pouty lips. No, Eric trusts Karl.

The person Eric does not trust is himself. He knows he loves and wants Orlando. He also knows he'd love to see Orlando fuck Karl; he gets embarrassingly hard every time he even thinks about it, which has been rather often tonight. Yes, self-trust is what's lacking here, and there is nothing Orlando can do or say to make Eric feel more at ease with his own desires.

Especially not now that they're all back at Orlando's bungalow in Venice, still drinking, and Eric knows it's not going to be long before they're all naked and shagging, and isn't sure he's ready for it.

2.
It turns out that there is no way Eric *could* have been ready for it, for the vision of a naked Orlando and a naked Karl, touching and kissing each other, so lightly, so briefly. He is even less ready when they turn and start touching him, and he can't stop the choked gasp he makes the first time Karl's lips brush across his.

Despite all the fucking unbelievably hot things going on around him, Eric can't stop thinking. Is Orlando going to fuck Karl? Will he spank him? Tie him up? Do things even more exotic than that? Eric has tried those two things with Orlando, maybe three times or less, over the last ten months. He liked them. Very much so. But they never talked about it beyond Orlando saying he would give Eric some space to think about things, and that they could go farther, or stay where they were, or even go back, depending on what Eric wanted. By default, then, they "went back" to plain sex, mostly, although now that he thinks about it, Orlando's usually got Eric's arms restrained in some way. Eric's always loved that Orlando likes to top; it's so good to give up control, relax, let someone he trusts call the shots. Even the strained muscles and occasional too-hard bite or too-dry fuck feels good.

Eric never realizes these things until right now, with Orlando standing behind him, gently holding his wrists as Karl kneels and begins to lap at Eric's cock. Eric isn't sure if it's the sensation of seeing a fantasy he's never explored using his tongue on his balls or the realization that he's been Orlando's sub for ten months without noticing it that makes his knees buckle.

He'll be all right though; Orlando's got him.

3.
"There's nothing you can do that will disappoint me," Orlando whispers in Eric's ear, as the three of them move so Eric can sit on the edge of the bed. Karl kneels before him like a supplicant, running his tongue up and down Eric's cock in patterns and symbols that seem to have a message, if only Eric can unravel the language. Maybe it's just Karl's eyes, sparkling with knowledge that Eric isn't sure he wants, yet is desperate to have.

There is much Eric can do that will disappoint, not Orlando, not Karl, but himself. He wants to *know* what they got up to in New Zealand, *know* what the kinky books and movies and jokes are hinting at. And if he pussies out now, he'll always wonder what might have been. Not to mention the shame of being afraid to find out, and having the two younger men as witnesses to his fears. So he is afraid of what will come and the adrenaline makes his heart beat faster, or maybe that's the sudden scrape of Karl's teeth on his balls and Orlando's hands tightening on his wrists.

Orlando's sultry voice, a voice Eric loves because it means he's going to get fucked, hard, has an edge of metal to it. This is new and it throws Eric off balance – dangerous for a big guy like him, to be unbalanced. Orlando says in this new metallic-tinged purr, "Do you want to know, Eric?" and Eric nods, unsurprised that Orlando's reading his mind.

Eric is sent to stand in the middle of the floor and told to watch. Karl, silent and full of leonine grace, licks his lips and sharp teeth and smiles promises at Eric while Orlando pulls a black duffel bag out of the back of his closet.

Eric's hands shift nervously, sometimes grasping his wrists, sometimes resting on his hip bones, sometimes clenching into fists when he realizes that they are wandering around in defiance of Eric's orders to be still. Eric's orders – Orlando simply told him to stand and watch. Eric's hands are getting more restless as he watches Orlando kiss Karl, first lightly, then with a simply obscene amount of tongue, Karl moaning while Orlando drags his own erection against Karl's. Karl, who is kneeling on the bed, immobile, in control. His control? Or Orlando's? It doesn't matter; somehow Karl is radiating a variety of states – submission, compliance, control, and also hunger.

Karl's eyes are sliding shut as Orlando breaks the kiss to pull some black leather bits out of the bag. In moments, Karl's wrists are cuffed to his ankles, back arching gorgeously, thrusting his chest and cock forward as his head drops back.

Eric shivers, clutching his wrists behind his back hard enough for his knuckles to turn white, without even noticing.

4.
Orlando's first move is to bite Karl on the neck, hard enough and in the right place to leave a dark purple bruise right on the artery. He leaves visible red teeth marks too, vampiric. For some reason, this makes Eric's cock leak. Karl's too, Eric notices. From there, Orlando bites a trail of marks over Karl's powerful shoulders and chest, finally worrying each nipple in turn until Karl gasps in obvious pain, the only sound to break his silence so far. Then Orlando's hands, in a parody of lovers' soothing, stroke down Karl's chest, fingernails raising welts and scratch marks in their wake.

Eric is shaking so hard he feels like his grip on his wrists is the only thing holding him upright, somehow. Karl is in pain. Orlando is hurting Karl. Karl, obvious even to Eric's eyes, is loving it. Reveling in it. Delighting in the way Orlando hurts him. Arching up into the clawing fingernails, the sharp teeth. Like a sacrificial victim. And with a flare that almost blinds him, Eric wants desperately to be in Karl's place.

He must have made a noise, because Orlando and Karl both look over at him, and Eric wonders if they had forgotten he was there. He suspects not, but wonders if it would be better if they had, because he knows his shocking desires are written all over his face, plain for them both to read.

5.
Everything takes on a dream-like quality now that Eric's mind isn't even trying to keep up anymore. He's storing it all away to examine later, much later, because right now there's just too much input. The smell in the room is enough to make him start wanking – sweat and sex and men's grooming products and something that might be fear (his) or pain (Karl's) or some kind of evil smug pleasure (Orlando's). There's a look in Orlando's eyes that Eric can't categorize, or doesn't want to. They are going to have a whole lot to talk about later, some of which Eric knows he isn't going to like, only half because he hates it when he sounds needy.

Orlando pulls a black strap out of the bag and without a word, holding Eric's gaze for some reason, slaps Karl across the biceps with it. No build-up, and it was hard enough to make Karl wince, but it's the way Karl's cock bobs in reaction that is really intriguing. Orlando moves to the side and delivers several more blows to Karl's shoulders, thighs, soles of his feet, and even a few that leave vivid pink stripes across Karl's chest.

One blow lands near a nipple and Karl cries out for the first time, eyes snapping open, body jerking against the restraints. It's the first real noise Karl has made, Eric realizes. Orlando stops, places his hand on the welt, soothing. Holds Karl's eyes until he gets a nod, waits until Karl nods again, somewhat impatiently. Orlando grins with his teeth but not with his eyes and pinches the abused nipple until Karl shudders.

Some more rummaging in the bag produces a white candle and a lighter. Eric's mouth is open and his breathing fast, and for reasons he can't think about he is covered with sweat and his cock is aching.

Focused, Orlando does what Eric expects but can't quite believe; he lights the candle and drips hissing, moaning wax on Karl. Karl hisses and moans, that is – the wax doesn't sound any louder than water would. Orlando, Eric's Orlando, is doing this. Pouring melted wax on Karl's bitten, bruised, scratched, whipped, welted torso. And shoulders. And thighs. And Karl isn't making a move or breathing a sound to stop him.

The sounds Karl *does* make are gasps, high in pitch and filled with pain, almost sobs. His jaw is tensing, teeth clenching, eyes squeezing shut then flying open as new drops of hot wax land. Even more intriguing is the way Karl's arms and legs are quivering, the way his arse tightens with each burning splash, the way his balls are drawn up so tight against his body. And the way Karl's cock is so very hard, so very dark, leaking so much there's a small, slick puddle on his belly.

Eric's cock and balls and arse are doing the same things, too.

6.
Orlando's soft but steely voice in his ear makes Eric jump, as does the firm hand gripping his wrists. "Come here," Orlando says, pushing Eric onto the bed. He is arranged to face Karl, both of them kneeling. Orlando undoes Karl's wrists to let him up and the delirious, swirling, almost-euphoric look in Karl's eyes, the smell and heat of his sweat, make Eric shake with need.

Without meaning to, without being able to stop himself, Eric reaches out a hand to brush his fingers against the wax on Karl's chest. Karl moans but no one stops him, so Eric explores the rough, hard splatters, the fiery-hot welts, the bruises that make Karl groan when Eric presses on them slightly.

"What does it feel like?" Eric wonders, only aware that he's said it out loud when Karl's eyes focus on him, a lazy smile curving his lips. Unblinking, Karl shakes his head. "Different for everyone," he mumbles. Karl's voice sounds drunk, high, completely drugged out of his mind.

Orlando's warm hand startles Eric a second time; he actually *had* forgotten Orlando is there, so focused is he on Karl. "Want to find out?" Orlando asks, offering but not pressuring.

Eric thinks. He has to close his eyes, block out the sight of an ecstatic, abused Karl, to think. Block out the metal in Orlando's purr, and just answer the question. "Can I later?" Eric asks, and then says "Please?" although he didn't plan to.

Orlando smiles, kisses Eric's cheek, his neck, and then bites him hard. Really hard, harder than Eric's been bitten ever before, right on the join of neck and shoulder, into the muscle. Deep. It fucking hurts and Eric shivers, loving it, and his cock surges, brushing against Karl's, and Eric groans long and loud and hedonistic.

"Yeah," Orlando smiles as he pulls away. "Any time you want."

7.
The conclusion is both more and less elaborate then Eric expects. Hopes. Fears. Whatever. Karl and Eric kneel on the bed, facing each other. Orlando shoves a vibrating plug into Karl's arse and the hum of it gives everything a surreal air that, frankly, seems a little excessive to Eric. Karl is struggling to maintain his perfect silence, perfect stillness, and it shows in the way his whole body vibrates. His cock brushes maddeningly, irregularly, against Eric's, and his hands clench and unclench into fists on his thighs. Orlando has also added tweezer-like clamps to Karl's nipples, with black teardrop-shaped weights, darkening the nubs to a deep purple.

Eric is simply kneeling. And watching. Somehow, everything Orlando does to Karl's body makes Eric's body ache in sympathy. Or jealousy. Maybe. Eric will think about it later; right now, it's just too much.

Finally when Orlando has Karl arranged to his liking, he places Karl's hands on Eric's hips, and Eric's on Karl's. The strength of the grip on Eric gives away Karl's desperation even more than the quivering did, and Eric is almost afraid at the intensity of what Karl must be feeling. He rubs his thumbs, calming, on Karl's hips but the gesture seems only to add to Karl's agitation.

Before he can focus too much on Karl, Orlando is spreading Eric's arse and sliding in two lubed fingers, dragging them against his prostate until Eric is groaning and gasping and shaking so hard that Karl seems like a model of control. And compared to Eric he is; Eric's control is just shattered at this point. He doesn't know what the rules are; no one told him to be still or be quiet, but he knows he's moving too much, writhing in bliss actually, and groaning like an animal in rut.

Finally, blissfully, Orlando mounts him, shoving Eric against Karl. The grip on his hips tightens and the wetness on Eric's stomach where their two cocks are sliding together is beyond delicious.

Orlando fucks him hard and fast, plunging in deep, making his own satisfied grunts as he pulls Eric back onto his cock by the thighs. Orlando's hands are restless, belying his control of this scene, rubbing, fondling, scratching, and pinching their way up and down Eric's thighs, belly, pecs, shoulders, nipples. Part of Eric notes that Orlando often does this when he's really out of control, and that Eric always enjoys it a lot more than he feels he should.

Soon Orlando is groaning and coming, hitching his hips in short little thrusts and digging his fingernails into Eric's chest. Eric whines a little at the pain and opens his eyes to see Karl giving him a look tinged with amusement and jealousy and lust.

Orlando stays inside Eric's arse and moves Eric's hands from Karl's hips to Karl's cock and balls. No instructions are needed as Eric jerks Karl off while Orlando still thrusts lazily inside him. Karl's head is burrowed into Eric's neck and Orlando's hands reach past Eric to pull off the nipple clamps just before Karl reaches a furious, screaming orgasm. The sensation of the hot cream Karl shoots all over Eric's belly and cock makes him whimper, so overcome with need that he feels both paralyzed and blind with it.

When Karl moves away, the wave of cool air on Eric's torso is almost painful, but Karl's hot mouth swallowing Eric's cock down to the root is so brilliant that he doesn't even have words for it. Eric's shaking and fighting with the orgasm threatening to tear him apart when Orlando murmurs softly in his ear, "It's all right." That seems to be all the reassurance Eric needs and he comes and comes down Karl's throat, in Orlando's arms, Orlando still in his body, and Eric's brain is torn apart into bits and he will never ever think again.

8.
Eric was uneasy, and he still is, to some degree. Orlando has tried to reassure him, and so has Karl, but Eric remains unassured. He knows now that Orlando and Karl had not planned the get together, but both had hoped for it to happen someday. And Eric knows now that Karl had wanted him. That Orlando had wanted them together, but loves only Eric. That it was just a one-time thing (or maybe two or three, or perhaps more, but it doesn't matter) and it doesn't mean anything.

Still, Eric remains uneasy. He's discovered a lot about Orlando and Karl, some of it frankly startling. He's learned even more about himself, even though he doesn't know quite *what* yet because it scares the shit out of him to even consider thinking about it. And he's got a lot to think about now, none of it simple, all of it a bit unsettling.

But Eric has Orlando to help him, and even Karl, if he wants. What Eric *really* wants to do is run away from all of this new knowledge, but he won't. He might be uneasy and unassured, but he is still who he was the night before. His eyes are just open now.

The bite mark on his shoulder throbs deliciously as he goes to ask Orlando if he can see what else Orlando keeps in that black bag.

~end~