"That's pathetic!" he'd said. "I can do better than that." Looked around. Spied his chance. "Sblom, help me out here."
Dom had laughed, let himself be pulled closer, even leaned forward.
And now, they were kissing.
After five seconds, Orlando's mind caught up with his body, burst through the trouble-free barrier of alcohol, and he realised that this might not have been a good idea, his lips on Dom's, parted but almost innocent. Then he heard Billy say: "Uh, Orli?" and he couldn't pull back now. He could picture them all in his mind's eye - had to be his mind's eye, because his eyes seemed to be closed - standing around by the bar. Liv and Lij, arms around each other and giggling. Billy with his attractive redhead of the evening in one arm, his watch in his other hand. Timing.
"You have to do more than just stand there," Liv admonished them, but Orlando had already felt it, felt Dom's tongue dart against his top lip. Trapped it there with his own, pressed tongue to tongue before he slid down, slid along Dom's tongue into Dom's mouth.
"They are," Elijah said, somewhere at the corner of Orlando's hearing.
Elijah, who'd pulled back from kissing Liv, already laughing, both of them, as Billy had consulted his watch, and declared: "A minute fourteen. That's a new record."
His redhead had giggled, and Orlando had said: "That's pathetic!"
He'd reached for Dom, and now they were really kissing. Dom's tongue and his tongue, and his mind had decided his body seemed to know what it was doing after all. Orlando took a step forward, because otherwise Dom might fall off his bar stool. Just to make sure, Orlando set both hands on Dom's shoulders.
He brushed his thumb across Dom's collar, to warm skin at the base of his throat. Dom angled his head, mouth tilted, made a small noise just under the ball of Orlando's thumb. Orlando thought about the time they'd been at the beach, had gone for a walk around sunset after a long day of surfing, and settled in the dunes for a rest. They must have fallen asleep, because then he'd woken in the dusk, rolled over to see Dom stretched out beside him. Shaken his shoulder and said: "Wake up, sleeping beauty", and then Dom had half-opened sleep-soft eyes, made that exact noise deep in his throat, and Orlando had remembered that Sleeping Beauty had been woken up with a kiss, and suddenly his mouth was dry.
Orlando was breathing hard and fast against Dom's cheek, and Dom's hand came up to cup his neck, slide up over his stubble-rasping scalp. Orlando thought of the last time he'd shaved his head, concentrating in the bathroom mirror with Dom watching curious from the doorway behind him. Not a good time for your hand to tremble, blade on skin, blue-grey eyes on skin. He'd held the razor out to him, watched him in the mirror. "Make yourself useful. I can't see the back."
Dom had smiled, stepped forward to take the razor. "You're giving me the power of life and death over your hair."
"I trust you," Orlando had said. He'd closed his eyes as Dom's hand touched his scalp, but that was for another reason entirely.
Dom's other hand came up, gripped at Orlando's shirt near his waist. Their tongues tangled, and Orlando could feel Dom's eyelashes against his cheek. He couldn't think of anything. Couldn't think of anything but how many times, how long, he'd wanted to do this. Wanted to just pull Dom to him, easy as that, press himself against him, mouth and body. But in the next instant Dom had laughed, or said something, or someone else had come in, and the moment was gone, shattered. Now he was here, pressed against him, mouths open and teeth, tongue, kissing so deep Orlando could almost name the beers Dom had had that night, knew he'd been eating salted peanuts. Knew he never wanted to end this kiss.
Somewhere, a long way away, Billy cleared his throat, and said: "Well done. That's a minute thirty."
Neither of them pulled back, or even registered the words. Dom's hand at Orlando's waist tugged at his shirt, pulled him forward, between lazily parted knees. Orlando's hand smoothed up Dom's throat, pressed two fingers against the thundering pulse under his jaw. Dom's tongue plunged again into his mouth, and Orlando felt himself make his own small sound, deep in his throat. Felt Dom's lips stretch in a smile against his.
Felt the moment remain. Whole. Unbroken.
But they were still going. Just, you know, to make sure that no one could beat their record.
Just to make sure.
Making Sure by dee
All stories are works of fan-fiction by Dee. "Fan-fiction" means that she does not own any of the core creative concepts and characters, but she does heap adulation, appreciation and awe upon those people who do hold the intellectual property rights to those concepts and characters. Further, any instances of real people are fictional, and the author does not wish to suggest any truth should be attached to the actions, emotions and words attributed to them in these fictional stories.