Orlando didn't like eavesdropping. It was sordid and underhand. Sneaky. Not something he wanted any part of. So therefore, what he was doing now was definitely not eavesdropping. It was just...
Well, to be perfectly frank, it was just that two beautiful women were hand-feeding each other melted chocolate right in front of his eyes, and he didn't think he could move if he tried.
Hidden behind the barely-open door - open only enough for him to see what was happening in the kitchen - he blinked frantically, trying to figure out if he was just having one of those dreams again. He wanted to rub at his eyes, but didn't dare move his hand from the door in case either it swung shut or the movement attracted their attention.
Not that he thought that was likely. They appeared entirely engrossed in what they were doing. Which, Orlando figured, was fair enough.
Miranda was sitting on the bench, head resting against the cabinets lining the room. Beside her lay the spread for dessert that they were all waiting for, and that Orlando had been sent to check on. Heaps of fresh strawberries, and melted chocolate sauce to dip them in.
But on her other side was the bowl that the sauce had been mixed in, mostly empty... but not entirely.
As Orlando watched, barely daring to breath, Cate scraped her fingers through the dregs in the bottom of the bowl. She raised brown-dripping fingers, licked at the dribbles as she stepped back between Miranda's parted knees. Resting her clean hand on one knee - bare; Miranda's light, full skirt was pulled up, her calves dangling - Cate leaned in closer, brushed one finger across the other woman's lower lip, leaving a chocolate smear.
Miranda's eyes were closed, and her tongue darted out quickly between parted lips, smoothing along the left chocolate. She moaned faintly. "Wicked woman."
"Sinful," Cate agreed, voice a throaty murmur. She trailed another finger along Miranda's mouth, lingered to let the searching tongue play over her knuckles. Let Miranda suck her finger entirely into her mouth. She chuckled. "I know your weaknesses."
"This isn't a weakness," Miranda gasped, when Cate pulled her hand away, back to the bowl for more. "It's an addiction."
"Is it?" Cate sounded arch, but didn't move from her position, pressed close between Miranda's thighs. Her fingers trembled slightly in the chocolate.
Miranda's eyes opened slightly; with her head tilted back she watched Cate from under dangerously lowered lids. Watched as Cate raised her hand to her own mouth, licked lasciviously along the backs of her fingers.
"Don't tease junkies," Miranda warned, her smile wicked.
"Oh?" Cate said, turned her hand to lick her palm.
"Yes." Miranda waited, timed her moment, until Cate had the most possible chocolate staining her lips. "We get violent." And she reached up, grabbed a handful of blonde hair to yank Cate close. Chocolate-slick mouths swarmed against each other. The bowl was forgotten.
And breathing heavily, Orlando finally found the will to take a step back, let the kitchen door fall quietly closed behind him.
The living room, with its raucous occupants, seemed a world away down the short hall. He emerged into its lights blinking and dazed. Billy noticed his entrance; he was possibly the only one sober enough to. "Where's dessert?"
"Uh." Orlando blinked some more, tried to pull himself together. "It might be a while."
"What?" Dom twisted his head from where he was sprawled on the couch with Liv in an untidy tangle of limbs. "What's this? But I'm starving!"
Elijah, slumped on the arm of the couch, laughed. "You're too drunk to be hungry."
"They're, um..." Orlando scratched his head. "Uh guys, I think Cate and Mir might be, um, y'know..."
"What? A couple?" Billy raised his eyebrows. "What, are they shagging in the kitchen instead of getting the dessert?"
"You," Dom declared, pointing a wavering finger at Orlando, "have a lesbian fixation. You need help."
Elijah was laughing, but no help. "He's right. Now, I like a nice lesbian fantasy as much as the next young male, but you're taking it to extremes."
Liv was just laughing helplessly, half asleep under the weight of Dom.
"Fine!" Orlando declared, throwing his hands up in the air and himself back into his chair. He sulked in silence, while the others traded lesbian jokes, and speculated about other, apparently not so obviously straight, members of the crew.
Dessert was brought out to them only a few minutes later, and he almost thought he might have somehow produced the whole thing out of a sexually-starved imagination. But then Miranda turned, smiled over to Cate, and he knew.
It wasn't the smile, it was the faint brown smudge on the hip of her dress.
It might have been chocolate.
It might have been roughly the shape of a hand.
Orlando dipped his strawberry, and grinned to himself.
The Boy Who Cried Wolf by dee