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English
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Published:
2011-06-15
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6,958
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
8
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2
Hits:
158

Hearing Your Song

Summary:

Every Band needs a good Fanboy.

Notes:

DISCLAIMER: Nope don’t own them, or things would be decidedly different to current events. If anyone sees them listed on Ebay let me know.

Work Text:

Billy Boyd stood in the shadows on the side of the stage and watched the crowd gathering in the front of house. Hidden from view by the thick red velvet curtains that hung at either side of the stage, his shrewd green eyes scanned the crowd, but returned quickly to the young man standing to the left of the stage.

“Ye’re stalker is here again.” BJ dropped his chin onto Billy’s shoulder, his eyes following the direction of Billy’s.

“Aye.” Billy murmured, his eyes never leaving the young man in question. Every night for the last week he’d been here in exactly the same place.

“He’s quite pretty isn’t he?” Rick peered around them to look at their small faithful crowd of fans.

“Aye.” Billy replied absently. He’d already noticed the touchable soft chocolate curls, the tall lanky body, and a face that would make an artist weep. He stood there every night, in that very spot, directly in front of the speakers, his hands in his back pockets, his dark eyes fixed on Billy’s face the whole time he was on the stage. It was unnerving to have someone that focused on him; at the same time it was as arousing as hell.

“Watch it, lads.” John piped up from behind his trio of bandmates. “One word answers, he’s already hooked.”

“Shut it.” Billy growled over his shoulder, as he slipped his guitar strap over his shoulder, “Isn’t it time for us to be on-stage?”

“Aye, his fanboy needs more wank material.” John snickered as he shoulder bumped his friend, “Twenty quid says you can’t get him home with you tonight.”

Billy smiled tightly at his oldest friend. “Ye’re on.”

Stepping onto the darkened stage after his band mates, Billy took his place at the microphone stand in the centre of the stage.

The club was small and intimate, yet still large enough for almost three hundred people. The owner, a quiet, ruggedly-masculine artistic type had offered them house band status when he had seen them at another club. They had gladly taken him up on it. So each night for the last ten days they had played a set of ten to fifteen songs, depending on the crowd of the night and each night the crowd had been grown. In fact, for the last two nights the house full sign had gone out long before they had even arrived at the club.

Launching into their set, Billy tried to keep his attention focused on the music and the crowd of people watching and singing along with their music. His music. He still couldn’t believe people actually liked the songs he had written and sang for them every night. By the end of the third song, it was hopeless, his eyes scanned the crowd but always kept returning to the young man in front of the speakers. Every now and again he would lose sight of him, until he realized that he was standing even closer to the huge black boxes on the edge of the stage.

Giving up all pretence, his performance became almost entirely for the beautiful young stranger in the crowd. He couldn’t help himself; the dark eyes of the young man followed his face with every word he spoke, silently mouthing the words himself.

Leaving the stage, Billy took the time only to ensure that his guitar was safely stowed before he set off in search of his quarry.

Heading to the bar, he grabbed two longneck beers from the bar before he turned and surveyed the room. Seeing the unruly head of curls at the other side of the room, he hooked the necks of the bottles with his fingers and sauntered across the room, stopping in front of the younger man and extending one of the beers to him.

“So, will you?” Billy smiled almost coyly up at him.

“Will I?” he asked, his voice soft in the noise filled room.

“Take advantage of me tonight?” Billy’s brogue was low and filled with gravel and the barely contained desire that had consumed him for almost the entire show.

“Take advantage?” he parroted quietly, a frown furrowing his brows tightly.

“Ye’ve been here every night, lad.” Billy murmured, his hand lifting to smooth the creases in the other man’s forehead gently. “Jest saying, if ye want, the advantage is all yours.”

“You’d….” his lush bottom lip trembled as he looked down into Billy’s eyes. Copper brown orbs flecked with chocolate and gold searched Billy’s face as he struggled to find the words to convince himself the words to respond to Billy’s comment.

“Go home with you tonight?” Billy nodded quickly, “Aye.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Don’t need to.” Billy shrugged, “Do you know how sexy it is having you here like this? Watching me? Every single night?”

“I don’t, didn’t…” he stammered. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, lad.” Billy’s fingers stroked the length of his arm, “Ye can come home with me, if you want.”

“Why?” His confused gaze searched Billy’s face.

“Ye’ve not done this before, have ye lad?” Billy stepped closer, his hand slipping to rest on the younger man’s hip.

A sharp shake of his head, tossling the russet curls messily around his face, brought a smile to Billy’s face. His hand was still on the slender waist, his finger brushing across the denim-clad hip.

“Lets start again.” Billy spoke, his eyes fixed on the taller man’s face as he extended his free hand in greeting. “Billy Boyd at your service.”

“Orli.” The younger man blushed charmingly as he stammered his name. “Orlando.” He added.

“Orli.” Billy nodded his head, a wide grin splitting his face. “Would you like to get out of here?” he asked leaning up closer to Orlando as the deejay took over for the night and his music blared from the speakers behind them.

As Billy looked up at him expectantly, awaiting an answer Orlando nodded slowly, furrows creasing his forehead. Billy grabbed him by the hand and led him through the crowd and out the front door of the club, nodding at the tall bouncer that held the door open for them.

“Night. Karl.” Billy saluted him as they passed him.

“Evening. Boyd.” Karl nodded. Seeing Orlando’s hand in Billy’s he pressed a hand to Orlando’s shoulder and waited for him to look up. “Everything all right, Orli?” he spoke slowly, watching Orlando’s face carefully.

Billy frowned at the interaction, feeling like he was missing something, but not sure what it could possibly be. He watched Orlando nod, his lips turning up into a small grin as he did. Shaking his head at the strange thought, Billy laughed and waved his farewell to Karl as he dragged Orlando after him and into the small lane behind the club.

As they moved into the shadows, Billy pushed Orlando against the brick wall. He couldn’t help but see a flash of fear in Orlando’s eyes as he felt the wall against his back.

“What?” Orlando mumbled quickly.

“Sshh.” Billy’s finger touched Orlando’s bottom lip, “I’m not going to hurt you,” his finger brushed back and forth across Orlando’s lush lip. “I just need to kiss you.” He whispered, his hand lifting to cup the back of Orlando’s head and pull his face down towards him.

As Billy’s lips touched Orlando’s, his mouth opened and his tongue traced across Orlando’s lips before delving inside the warmth of his mouth, tasting the crisp apple cider that he’d watched him drink earlier. Pulling back, he brushed the soft curls back from Orlando’s face, one hand slipping lower to cup Orlando’s buttocks and pull him against his body, letting him feel his insistent arousal as it rubbed against him.

Looking up into Orlando’s face, Billy frowned at the confusion he saw there.

“Do you want to come home with me, lad?” he asked slowly.

“Yes.” Orlando nodded emphatically. “Never done this.” His voice was soft and husky with misuse.

“Never?” Billy questioned his eyebrow raised in disbelief. Orlando was a good looking lad, he found it difficult to believe that he hadn’t done this before.

“Never.” Orlando answered.

The innocent honesty in the golden brown eyes he looked into sent a shiver of anticipation down Billy’s spine.

“C’mon, sunshine.” He murmured as he turned away and dragged him further down the alley.

Tugging on Billy’s hand as they moved deeper into the shadows, Orlando pulled his hand away from Billy’s.

“Here?” Orlando frowned, wiping his hands on his jeans, his long fingers trembling as he waited for Billy’s attention.

“Here?” Billy questioned as he turned around. Realising what Orlando was asking he pressed his hands to his hips. “Hell no. Not here. I’m too old for shagging up against a cold brick wall. Well, at least the first time. Besides you’re far too pretty to rush. I want to savour you like fine chocolate.” Moving a few steps further into the shadows, he lifted two motorcycle helmets from the seat of motorcycle that could hardly be discerned in the darkness.

Swinging his leg over the seat of the vintage 1940’s Harley Davidson motorcycle, Billy set his helmet on the fuel tank and handed the other to the younger man. He watched as Orli pulled the proffered helmet onto his head, momentarily regretting the loss of the soft chocolate curls, before he patted the seat behind him.

Orlando settled his frame onto the seat behind Billy, he slid his arms around his waist, pressing his body against him from shoulder to hip, his thighs framing Billy’s, his face pressed against Billy’s shoulder as he waited to feel the rumble of the bike underneath them.

Billy leaned back into the embrace, his eyes closed, one hand lifting to touch the back of Orlando’s cherry-red helmet, pulling him subtly closer, not questioning just how right this lad felt on the back of his bike. Opening his eyes, he pulled his sensible black open-faced helmet on and turned the ignition key, then kicked his pride and joy into purring life.

The engine rumbled into life beneath them. The vibrations of the finely tuned engine as it throbbed into wakefulness caused Orlando to tighten his hold on Billy’s waist. His fingers splayed wide, his hands pressed flat against the cotton covered muscles and pulled his own body closer to the smaller man in front of him.

Billy leaned forward over the fuel tank as the bike moved forward, grinning as Orli leaned with him, the warmth of his body pressed against Billy’s, matching his movements as if they were the one body as they made the short ride to his flat.

By the time he killed the powerful engine fifteen minutes later, Orli’s fingers, moved back and forth as he kept his careful grip, slipped across his cotton-covered belly came to rest on the soft denim waistband of his jeans, his thumb rubbing slowly across the hammered steel of his shiny belt buckle.

“Lad,” he murmured, rocking the bike onto its kick stand and leaning back into Orlando’s touch. “Keep that up and we won’t get upstairs.”

Orlando either didn’t hear him or ignored his words and let his hands continue to roam at their own will. Billy pressed his own hands over the top of Orlando’s as they reached his chest, tilting his head back against his shoulder as he exhaled a shaky breath.

“I meant it, lad.” He murmured turning his head, his lips finding the side of Orlando’s helmet instead of the soft curls he sought.

The pressure on Orlando’s roaming hands, instead of stopping his explorations only confined them to the one place. Long agile fingers brushed repeatedly against Billy’s nipples, eliciting a low rumbling groan from deep in his chest.

“Fuck me,” Billy sighed, pressing back against Orlando for a long indulgent moment. “Ye’re intoxicating even fully clothed.” He murmured before he pulled Orlando’s hands off his torso and swung his leg over the fuel tank.

Pulling his helmet off his head, he frowned as he saw Orlando looking at him quizzically. “C’mon lad.” He grinned extending his hand to Orlando. “’S’no time like the present right?”

Orlando looked at the hand presented to him and took it, swinging his leg over the seat to face Billy.

“Where are we going?” he asked as Billy pulled the strap on Orli’s helmet free and pulled it from his head.

“My flat.” Billy stepped between his thighs, leaning in to kiss him, his fingers twisting lightly in Orlando’s curls. Never before had he thought of himself as someone with a hair fetish, but he, and he’d wager anyone who got this close to his companion, couldn’t, wouldn’t restrain the urge to twist his fingers in the curls and lose himself in the wet, hungry, open-mouthed kisses bestowed upon him.

Moaning into the warm, ravenous cavern of Orlando’s mouth, Billy pulled himself away. His chest heaved with the shallow breaths of a man deeply aroused and hungry. Hungry for the kind of touching that was definitely forbidden in public. Aching for the kind of touching that in about two minutes would be happening right here in the shadowy depths of the alley beside his nondescript block of flats.

Pulling him by the hand, Billy dragged Orlando quickly up the three flights of concrete stairs, and along the verandah. Reaching his door, Billy pressed Orlando against the brick wall beside it and kissed him. Lips sliding across Orlando’s, the helmet in his hand dropped forgotten to the floor, clattering against the concrete loudly. His fingers more intent on finding the bottom of Orlando’s t-shirt and baring flesh his fingers itched to touch.

The loud slam of a door several floors up startled Billy. Dragging his lips from Orlando’s, he pressed his forehead to Orlando’s shoulder as he struggled to catch his breath, his guitar calloused fingertips unconsciously stroking Orlando’s nipple.

“C’mon lad.” Billy sighed extracting his hands from under the rumpled cotton, “We’re still not inside.”

He pushed a hand into his pocket and extracted a single key, pushing it with shaking fingers into the lock. Kicking the forgotten helmet through the door, Billy slid a finger through the belt loop on Orlando’s jeans and pulled him after him through the doorway.

Kicking the door closed with one booted foot, Billy dragged Orlando down the short hallway and into his bedroom. Releasing his hold on Orlando, he leaned down to brush a small mountain of hastily discarded clothing from the rumpled expanse of his bed.

Turning back to grin disarmingly at the younger man, he couldn’t help but sink back onto the bed and just watch him. Orlando leaned against the doorjamb, watching him carefully, his eyes wide. His long elegant fingers toyed nervously with the hem of his t-shirt.

“You really haven’t done this before, have you?” Billy asked disbelievingly.

Shaking his head, Orlando smiled shyly before he moved. Stepping quickly forward, he dragged his t-shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor just inside the room. His eyes, fixed on Billy’s face as he moved forward, failed to notice the haphazard pile of clothes, and the toe of his cherry red trainer caught in the sleeve of the t-shirt Billy had just shrugged off. Unable to stop his forward motion, his foot hopelessly tangled in the cloth he fell forward and landed unceremoniously on the carpet at Billy’s booted feet.

Billy sat forward and leaned down to extend a hand to the younger man.

“You didn’t hurt anything vital did you?” he laughed as he closed his hand in Orlando’s, strong fingers folding around the larger hand and dragging Orlando back to his feet. Pulling him hard enough that he toppled backward on the bed, Orlando landed across Billy’s body awkwardly. Long limbs sprawled over the bed, their bodies fitted together perfectly. Billy looked up at the younger man, watching the uncertainty and desire war with surprise in his eyes.

Wrapping one leg around Orlando’s hip, Billy pulled them into tighter alignment, his hips rubbing unconsciously against the younger man as his hands clasped his face to pull him in for another kiss.

Overwhelmed by the sensations Billy was creating Orlando melted bonelessly against Billy’s body. One hand lifted to trail his fingertips across Billy’s face as they kissed. Mouths meeting wetly and lips opened wide, their tongues tangled languidly as moans were captured in each others mouths. Billy’s hands moved up to trail up and down the smooth golden skin of Orlando’s back. Orlando’s fingers moved across Billy’s chest gently tugging at the soft whorls of hair that covered his torso. Occasionally exploratory fingers brushed across a taut nipple. Every touch of Orlando’s fingertips on his nipples was like a shard of white hot fire to his libido.

Billy’s legs wrapped around Orlando’s hips and they rocked up into the firm flesh.

“Fuck’s sake.” Billy mumbled breaking away from the kiss breathlessly. “You should have a warning label.”

Rolling Orlando onto his back, Billy reached between them to unbutton the age-worn denim that separated them. Kissing the stubbled skin of Orlando’s neck, Billy flicked the button at the waistband of Orlando’s jeans open his fingers trembling as his knuckles brushed against the hard ridge of Orlando’s arousal.

Completely distracted, Billy closed his hand over the denim covered flesh and squeezed tightly.

He wasn’t prepared for what happened next. A wanton mewl of need bubbled from Orlando’s lips, one hand fisting a handful of sheet, the other clawing desperately at Billy’s back, short nails leaving long red marks on the pale skin. His hips jackknifed up into Billy’s touch, desperately clamoring for something he didn’t know how to ask for.

His fingers scrabbled desperately at Billy’s back, silently urging him to deepen his caress, begging him wordlessly for more. Harder. Faster. Just more.

Lifting his head to look into Orlando’s face Billy grinned. His eyes were squeezed shut, his skin covered in a fine sheen of perspiration, his head rocking from side to side on the pillow as he fought the sensations consuming him.

“That’s it lad.” Billy murmured.

Billy watched, slumberous as his fingers continued to stroke. Lifting his fingertips, Billy tugged the zipper down, pressing the heel of his hand against the flesh he uncovered.

“Commando?” he questioned softly, dipping his head to press an open mouthed kiss against the swollen flesh revealed as he pulled the vee of fabric open wider. “I like that.” He chuckled, his tongue trailing to the tip of Orlando’s erection.

Closing his mouth around the engorged tip, his tongue swirled wildly, his hands pressing Orlando’s muscular thighs against the bed as he thrust madly up into the hot, wet suction of Billy’s mouth.

Tilting his head back, he looked into Orlando’s face. Watched his eyes squeezed tightly closed, the fine sheen of perspiration dotting his golden skin and lifted his head releasing Orlando’s cock, his lips making a soft smacking noise as he licked the salty flavour of Orlando.

“C’mon, lad.” Billy murmured softly as he stood, “I don’t think either of us wants to prolong this do we?” As he was speaking he unbuttoned his own jeans and let them fall to the floor. Toeing one boot off, he shook his foot free of it and his jeans, before he turned his attention to Orlando’s jeans. Pulling them quickly down the younger man’s thighs, he tugged them down his legs and dropped them to the floor. Crawling back on to the bed, he kicked his other boot off and tried to flick his jeans from his foot.

Billy stalked along the length of Orlando’s long lithe body, his mouth dipping to lick and suck at the skin it encountered until he reached his mouth again. His mouth open wide, he fastened his lips against Orlando’s and kissed him wetly. Any finesse he once had was lost in his desperation to feast on the sweet innocent hunger of the younger man. His tongue plunged relentlessly into the warm cavern of Orlando’s mouth, swallowing the passionate groans that bubbled from both of them as his hips ground down against Orlando.

One of Orlando’s hands clutched at the sheet so tightly that the elasticated corner came loose and the sheet pinged up to wrap around Orlando’s tightly clenched fingers. His other hand lifted to cup the back of Billy’s head, pulling him closer, deepening the wet hungry kiss, his tongue plunging into Billy’s mouth.

Lungs burning, Billy rolled breathlessly off Orlando and lay beside him, drawing in great lungfuls of oxygen before he turned his head and straight into Orlando’s languorous brown eyes.

“Please?” Orlando murmured softly, one hand lifting to brush through the soft whorls of hair on Billy’s chest.

Sitting upright Billy rummaged in the drawer of the bedside table, emerging with a small bottle of lube and a condom. He lay back beside the young man and kissed him slowly, his hand tracing down his side to rest on his bare hip.

“Turn over.” He whispered against Orlando’s lips.

When Orlando didn’t move, Billy tilted his head back to speak to him, as his fingers traced Orlando’s cheekbone.

“It’ll be easier for you.” Billy murmured, his eyes following the path of his fingertips across Orlando’s golden skin. “Turn over.”

Nodding as he understood Billy’s words Orlando rolled away from Billy’s touch. Crossing his arms, he rest his head on the pillow of his arms, turning his face to look at Billy, smiling almost shyly. His hips rocked unconsciously as his heavy arousal rubbed against the bunched up sheet underneath him.

Billy leaned forward pressing his lips against the smooth forehead of his would be lover, his fingers sifting through the soft curls.

“This will be good.” He murmured against Orlando’s skin. “I swear.”

He flicked the cap on the bottle of lube with one hand and slicked his fingers with the slippery liquid before dropping the bottle to the bed forgotten. His slick fingertips brushed across the smooth skin of Orlando’s buttocks before they slipped into the crease. Fingertips sliding between Orlando’s buttocks, he let his other hand cup the top of Orlando’s head, watching the wonderous expression on the younger man’s face. As one slick guitar-calloused finger pressed against his opening Orlando’s mouth opened in a wide ‘O’, his legs parting further and his hips jackknifing into the bed.
“Calm down, lad.” Billy soothed him. His finger circled Orlando’s entrance slowly, pressing gently with every stroke. As his finger breached Orlando’s entrance, Orlando whimpered, his hips lifting up off the bed, pushing up into Billy’s touch. One hand reached out to cup Billy’s head and pull him in for a desperate kiss. Their lips didn’t quite meet, lips and tongues sliding across stubbled skin before he pulled back, desperate for the sensations that he was sure only Billy could provide.

“You like that do you?” Billy murmured.

Orlando nodded his head wildly. “Yes.” He sighed. “Need something. Need more.”

Billy’s face split into a grin, he pulled his finger back and on the very next stroke he pushed two fingers into Orlando’s tight body.

“Good?” Billy groaned as he watched the expressions crossing Orlando’s face.

“So good.” Orlando whimpered, his eyes screwed shut as he absorbed the sensations. He was torn between pushing back onto Billy’s fingers or forward to drag his sensitive cock against the sheets.

Scissoring his fingers slowly, Billy moved to kneel behind Orlando, lifting the lube with his other hand he squeezed the viscous liquid onto his hand and gently eased a third finger into Orlando’s body. Orlando’s body tensed under him and he dropped the bottle immediately, his free hand slipped forward to rub palm down across Orlando’s tense back. As his fingers pushed slowly deeper, his other hand caressing warm circles on Orlando’s back, Billy’s fingertips found a long scar running down the centre of Orlando’s back.

A frown briefly creased Billy’s brow, but as his fingertips crushed across Orlando’s prostate, the younger man bucked under his touch, pushing up to his knees and begging incoherently for the release he so desperately wanted.

“Ssh.” Billy murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss against the bottom of the scar. “It’s alright, lad. Soon. Soon.”

He brushed his fingers back and forth across the sensitive knot of nerves inside his new lover before he withdrew his fingers and quickly and efficiently sheathed his own insistent arousal, then lathered it with slippery lubricant, all the while crooning soothing, calming words to the man sprawled in front of him.

With one hand pressed flat against the small of Orlando’s back, the other guided his arousal until the tip brushed against Orlando’s stretched opening. Pushing slowly into the tight gripping heat of Orlando’s body, he heard the startled, pained mewl of discomfort tumble from Orlando’s lips. Leaning forward he pressed his chest against the younger man’s body, crooning to him soothingly as his hips slowly pushed forward sinking slowly into him. Perspiration prickled on Billy’s skin as he fought every impulse to push hard and fast into the stretched, clenching heat that was pulling him deeper and deeper.

Sinking into Orlando’s untried body Billy murmured nonsensical words against his back, his hands gliding across perspiration-damp skin until his hands lay over Orlando’s. Orlando clenched fists full of sheet, his face pressed into the mattress but turned to the side. Billy saw his eyes clenched with the discomfort of Billy’s intrusion his teeth tightly grinding on his bottom lip as he struggled not to vocalize his pain.

“It’ll be better soon, orli.” Billy breathed against the back of Orlando’s neck as he nuzzled the soft chocolate curls aside and kissed his neck wetly.

“Need….” Orlando growled into the sheets his body relaxing enough to push back towards Billy. The movement pulled Billy deeper into the viselike grip of his body. “Please?” he whispered softly, needing more than he had ever anticipated before.

Clenching his teeth, Billy lifted himself to his knees. His hands gripping Orlando’s hips tightly, he pulled almost out and then thrust back in a long, slow, push-pull of friction that threatened to steal the breath from his lungs and the willpower to make this as good for Orlando as it already was for him.

“Aaargh!” Orlando groaned into the mattress, his hips stuttered forward even as Billy pulled him back towards him. Pain had turned to desperation as he sought the friction of the sheets on his neglected erection. “Touch me!” he cried loudly.

Sliding one hand across Orlando’s belly, he closed his fingers around Orlando’s impressive erection. Fluid already dripped from the tip and Billy rubbed his calloused thumb across the slit, his fingers closing in a tight ring around the shaft and Orlando wailed incoherently. His hands drummed wildly on the bed, his back arched both into and away from Billy’s hands and body.

Billy’s other hand closed tightly on Orlando’s hip as he gave into the primal need to find his release.

“I’m sorry, lad.” He moaned as his body pounded into Orlando’s with a frantic jackhammer rhythm. Each stroke dragged his cock against Orlando’s prostate with mind-bending accuracy.

Orlando struggled against his own body until he was on all fours his legs spread even wider. One hand lifted to close over Billy’s fingers guiding Billy’s hand into the rhythm he wanted, needed to find the release his body was careening towards.

The muscles in Billy’s thighs were screaming as he thrust wildly, his hand jerking at Orlando’s arousal tightly, babbling incoherently as his toes began to curl his muscles tightening as his orgasm began to wash through his body.

He could feel Orlando’s body tensing under him and redoubled his pace, frantic for his partner to find satisfaction. As Orlando’s release spurted across his fingers and onto the sheets beneath them, the clench of Orlando’s body was all it took. Once, twice, three more times Billy thrust into him before he found his own release. Each stabbing thrust against his prostate dragged mewling whimpers of pleasure from Orlando as one aftershock after another intensified.

Billy collapsed against Orlando’s back, who in turn sank bonelessly to the bed heedless of the wet streaks of fluids on the sheets beneath them.

Breathing heavily, they both struggled to find their breath and their senses. Billy lifted his hips high enough to pull free of Orlando’s body, pulling the condom carefully off and dropping it off the side of the bed before he relaxed against Orlando’s sweaty back.

Pulling Orlando onto his side, Billy closed his arms around him, his fingers absently caressing the firm muscular chest.

“I was right. You’re going to be addictive.” He whispered against the curve of Orlando’s neck, his eyes drifting slowly closed as they both drifted off to sleep.

Twice they awoke during the night, bodies hard and hungry and wanting each other until their mutual lust was at least temporarily slaked.

Orlando lay tightly ensconced in Billy’s embrace, who, even in his sleep had curled his body along Orlando’s. His arm draped around Orlando’s waist, his fingers over Orlando’s heartbeat and his soft whistling breaths warm against Orlando’s nape.

As the sun rose over the tall buildings in the distance, bathing the grey city in its washed-out golden light. Orlando slid from under Billy’s embrace and stood naked by the bedside, watching as Billy snuffled into the pillow that still bore the imprint of his own head. Quickly gathering his clothes and dressing, he slipped out of Billy’s flat and disappeared into the morning.

The sun was high in the sky before Billy surfaced. His fingers traced across the cool sheets seeking Orlando’s warmth, his body more than ready to acquaint itself with Orlando again.

“Orli?” Billy called sitting upright “Where are you lad?”

Billy crawled out of the bed and walked though his flat. Scratching himself, the other hand ruffling his hair and a wide yawn split his face as he sought his new lover.

After a couple of minutes Billy realized the truth. Orlando had gone.

“Damn.” Billy murmured sinking onto the edge of his sofa. “I liked you, lad.”

~*~*~*~*~

The bright shiny edge had been taken off his day. He’s only had him for one night but that had been enough for Billy. By the time he arrived at the club, he was surly and in a bad temper, not at all in the mood for the incessant piss taking of his bandmates.

“Where’s the fanboy?” BJ murmured from over his left shoulder as Billy stood in the shadows behind the plush red curtains that framed their postage stamp stage.

“Fuck off, Beej.” Billy muttered, his eyes never straying from the front of the stage.

“Jesus Billy, are you that bad a shag?” Rick joked with him.

“You too?” Billy sighed, “Give it up, alright?”

John stood behind his trio of bandmates and inclined his head slightly. BJ and Rick looked at him then at the tension in Billy’s spine as he watched their growing crowd, then wandered back to their dressing room to prepare for their gig.

“Want to tell me what happened?” John asked quietly as he walked up behind Billy.

“Who says something happened?” Billy spoke from between tightly clenched teeth.

“You’re ready to bite the head of small furry creatures, and pretty boy isn’t here. I’d say that’s a fair indicator.” John explained calmly.

“Orlando.” Billy stated flatly.

“What?” John frowned, his eyes scanning the crowd again.

“His name. It’s Orlando.” Billy’s voice was soft as he answered, his eyes unfocussed as he played last night back in his head.

“Orlando?” John murmured before he shook his head to clear his thoughts. “So why isn’t he here? Did you cut him loose?”

Billy snorted derisively. “Who would?” he asked. “He wasn’t there when I woke up.”

“So? It’s not like you haven’t had one nighters before.” John shrugged. “What makes him different?”

“Not like this one.” Billy whispered.

“So you said. Why?” John probed, nudging at Billy with his shoulder.

“He was a virgin.”

“And not to be redundant but you’ve had virgins before, why is he special?”

“I don’t know.” Billy shrugged, his eyes scanning the crowd again, hoping that somehow he’d missed him. “He just is. I couldn’t not touch him. And when you’ve touched him you can’t not want to hold him and love him.”

“Jesus Bill.” John sighed, throwing an arm around Billy’s shoulder and ruffling his hair. “You’ve finally got it bad haven’t you?”

Billy didn’t even dignify that with an answer, he couldn’t have even if he wanted to. The lump of emotional realization in his throat was choking him of words.

“Good thing I’ve got your back partner.” John grinned at Billy as he half heartedly batted away John’s hands.

“What the fuck are you talking about Johnny?” Billy turned to look at his friend.

“His name’s Orlando, he’s a regular here but he’s never gone home with anyone before. He doesn’t talk much. He is a successful graphic artist but when he was putting himself through school he modeled. Photographic and still life work. Viggo used to use him as a model.”

“How did you find that out?” Billy’s eyes were wide.

“I asked around. I needed to know you were safe and not taking Sammy Stalker home with you.”

Billy gestured at himself. “Big boy. John.” He stated calmly.

John nodded. “I know, but I’m worried. Sue me.” He pushed one hand into his pocket. “Thought you might like this.”

“What is it?” Billy snatched at the piece of paper that John held just out of his reach.

“His address.” John grinned as he let Billy take the paper.

Billy looked at his watch, calculating the distance from the club to the address, then looked up at his bandmate. “Go on. But no fucking. You’ve got an hour. Don’t fuck this up Billy. We need this exposure.”

Drawing his oldest friend into his embrace, Billy hugged him tightly. Walking quickly down the short corridor to the back entrance of the club, he paused when John spoke again.

“How is he going to know you’re there?” John asked.

“I’m going to pound on his door until he answers.”

“He’s deaf, how the hell is he going to know you’re there.”

“He’s what?” Billy spun to look at John.

“For fucks sake Billy. You’ve had your dick in his ass.” John paused and frowned for a minute. “Or maybe he was in yours. I don’t know and I don’t care. But how could you not know he’s deaf?”

“It never came up.” Billy frowned, brushing a hand over his face.

“Everything else came up but his hearing?” John asked.

“We were focused on other stuff. He was talking to me.” Billy frowned.

“He reads lips and speaks.” John shrugged. “Don’t ask me the mechanics.”

“Fuck.” Billy started to pace in the dressing area.

“Does it make any difference to you?” John enquired.

“How can you fucking ask me that?” Billy looked at him eyes wide.

“Then go and find him and bring him back here.” John stated, pushing him towards the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Less than five minutes later Billy was standing in front of the door to Orlando’s flat, his hands pushed nervously into his pockets. Taking a deep breath, Billy pushed the doorbell and waited counting the paintbrush bristles that had been suspended in the paint on the door. He listened to the sound of someone moving about inside the flat. He heard footsteps approaching the door and then total silence.

“Orli?” Billy spoke softly reaching out one hand to touch the door, then pulled back realizing that Orlando couldn’t hear him. “Fuck!” he cursed softly, stepping back from the door and waiting.

He hadn’t been aware he was holding his breath until he turned to leave, convinced that Orlando had seen him through the peephole and didn’t want to talk to him. When the door opened, he spun back around to face the younger man guiltily.

They both stood and looked at each other, Billy drinking in the sight of tousled curls and tired expression. Soft black track pants hung off his lean hips, a well loved white t-shirt, liberally splashed with a rainbow of paint colours barely reached the waistband of his pants revealing a strip of skin and the bottom of his tattoo.

Drawing his gaze back up to Orlando’s face, Billy pulled a deep nervous breath into his lungs and stood straighter. Lifting his hands, he closed them into tight fists willing them to stop their nervous quivering before he signed ‘I’m sorry’.

Orlando’s eyes opened wider and his own fingers began to ‘talk’ to Billy, hands rapidly forming words and phrases that Billy tried to follow. Billy lifted his hands to cover Orlando’s and cease his rapid-fire signing.

He waited until Orlando looked up into his face, eyes confused before he spoke.

“It’s been a long time lad, I’m rusty.” He gestured with one hand between their mouths quickly. “We can talk, yes?”

Orlando nodded and leaned against the door jamb, his arms folded over his chest.

“I’m sorry. If I had known I would have done things differently.” Billy spoke clearly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t realize it was important.” Orlando spoke, so softly that Billy had to lean forward to hear him.
“You can sign?”

“I used to volunteer at a youth shelter. I taught kids how to play guitar, but one of the long term residents was deaf. I spent a lot of time with her.” Billy answered with a shrug.

“You dated her?” Orlando asked.

“No. It wasn’t like that.” Billy leaned back against the railing behind him. “She wanted to love music but she couldn’t hear it. She was fascinated. We eventually worked out that she could feel the music by standing in front of the amp while I played.” Billy’s eyes widened as he came to a realization. “That’s why you stand where you do isn’t it?”

“I love your music.” Orlando shrugged. “I can’t feel your voice but I can feel the music.”

“Why did you leave?” Billy watched him closely, “I missed you this morning.”

“You don’t need me.” Orlando shrugged, his eyes searching Billy’s face carefully.

“Who says?” Billy murmured glancing along the landing, then back at Orlando. “Can we do this inside please?”

Orlando stepped back and ushered Billy through the door. Billy walked past him and into the small, tidy flat. Stopping at the end of the short corridor, he turned to look at Orlando again.

“I’d like to see you, Orli.” Billy stated.

“Why?” Orlando shrugged, he turned his face away from Billy’s nervously biting at his bottom lip. “We both got what we wanted.”

Billy sighed, and shook his head as he waited for Orlando to look up at him again. Realising the younger man wasn’t going to look up, Billy stepped forward and put his hand under Orlando’s chin.

“Do you really think that’s all I wanted?” Billy asked.

“Wasn’t it?” Orlando dark chocolate eyes searched Billy’s face, his voice rising in his agitation.
“Maybe when I first spoke to you, but by the time you were on my bike, that wasn’t how it was.” Billy shrugged. “I’d like to see where this goes.”

“Nowhere.” Orlando stated flatly. “You’re a musician you don’t need a deaf boyfriend.”

“You don’t need to hear the music, Orli.” Billy spoke. “But I need a boyfriend, and you can feel my music, that’s enough for me.”

“Don’t think that’s a good idea.” Orlando shook his head pulling away from Billy’s grasp and angrily wiping at tears that had gathered unbidden on his long dark lashes.

“Maybe not.” Billy shrugged, he pulled Orlando back to him and traced his thumb across his cheekbones and collected the moisture from his lashes. “But you’re the one that I want.”

Billy leaned up to press his lips against Orlando’s kissing him slowly, his tongue tracing across Orlando’s lips, and as his mouth opened under the tender onslaught delved deeper. He slid his arms around Orlando’s waist, pulling their bodies together.

Kissing him gently, Billy let his hands cup Orlando’s face, fingertips tracing across skin that was sandpaper rough with the shadow of a days stubble until he touched the soft tousled curls that framed Orlando’s face.

Both of them desperate for each other, but even more desperate for oxygen, they pulled apart. Their lips separating slowly, each second of contact savoured and tasted. Billy held Orlando’s face to his, pressing their foreheads together as they both struggled to breath normally. Leaning back just far enough for Orlando to be able to see his face he spoke.

“As much as I want to stay here and continue this, I can’t. I’ve got a gig.” He checked his watch, “In 15 minutes.” His fingers brushed through the curls across Orlando’s forehead, pushing them out of his eyes as he spoke. “Will you come with me?” Billy asked.

Orlando watched him closely, his teeth worrying his bottom lip as his eyes searched Billy’s before dropping to watch pink kiss-swollen lips.

He stepped back, just far enough to lift his hands into Billy’s line of sight. Slowly and precisely, Orlando signed. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Billy watched Orlando’s hands, his brow furrowing as he fought to understand what the younger man was saying to him.

A slow smile curving his lips, Billy haltingly signed a response. “I don’t know, but I think you are good for me.”

Billy's face lit with a smile when Orlando nodded acquiescence and slipped a hand into his. Billy smiled and lifted Orlando’s hand to his lips and kissed him lightly on the knuckles and headed for the door.