Title: Trust
Author: Jo
Pairing: Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom
Rating: R
Summary: Orlando trusts.
Warning: mild kink, nothing too serious
Disclaimer: If you think this is real, then I'm fucking both men on a nightly basis...that's all I'm saying.
Feedback: If you want to, that's lovely. If you don't, that's lovely, too.
Notes: First improv fic. Go me. Had to incorporate the phrases "Do you trust me?", "I wish I had said", and "More than I did." in a 30 minute time limit. I managed to finish in 27 minutes. Oh, and this is all Brenda's fault. *winks*


Karl kneels there, on the bed, two silk scarves in one hand, dark eyes fastened on the slender body stretched out before him. He smiles, and there's a hint of something devious in that smile. Deviousness mixed with warmth and love. That's what Orlando has come to expect from Karl.

"Do you trust me?" Karl murmurs, voice silky, eyes hot as they roam over Orlando's bare skin. Trust? A complicated concept wrapped up in such a small word. Does he trust Karl? Yes. Most definitely. And he says so.

Karl merely smiles, leans forward to brush warm lips over Orlando's collarbone, flicks his tongue against the hollow of Orlando's throat. And smiles again when Orlando makes a soft sound, deep in his throat, tongue darting out to moisten dry lips.

"Good," Karl says.

And it is good. Orlando knows this. It's why he remains quiet, still, as Karl draws his arms over his head, tying his wrists to the headboard with a few self-assured movements. He sits back and smiles, waiting as Orlando tests his bonds. They won't come loose. Orlando knows this as well. But he has to try. So he does. And he was right. The bonds are secure - tight enough to hold him, but loose enough to not hurt him. And he thinks that's a lovely thing.

There is plenty of room for movement; Karl has left a bit of length between Orlando's wrists and the headboard. So Orlando uses that to lever himself up the bed a little, watching Karl through his lashes, waiting patiently for what comes next. And Karl doesn't disappoint him.

"Roll over," Karl orders in a soft voice. His hands are there, helping Orlando to twist his body until he's on his stomach, face turned on the pillow so he can breathe.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Orlando glances over his shoulder, smiling in response to the dark smile Karl flashes him.

"Of course," Karl replies as his fingers trail down Orlando's spine, pausing at the faint scars, then moving on to ghost across the dark cleft between his cheeks. Sinful eyes lock with Orlando's, and a slow smile spreads across a lush, full mouth when Orlando trembles. "Aren't you?"

"I wish..." Orlando begins, then stops. He's not sure exactly what he wishes. Just that he wishes.

Karl cocks his head, fingers now trailing down the back of one leanly muscled thigh. "You wish what?"

Orlando shakes his head. He can't answer. He doesn't know the answer. Or, rather, he does, but he can't say it. Not here. Not now. Not to Karl. Never to Karl. He jumps and utters a tiny yelp when the flat of one palm connects with a bare cheek, the smack echoing loudly in the quiet room.

"You wish what?" Karl repeats himself, and Orlando knows how much Karl hates to repeat himself. So this time he answers. Even though he's still not sure it's the right answer. Or even if it's a good answer.

"I wish I had said..." he says, softly, quietly.

Again, Karl cocks his head, hand smoothing over the other bare cheek before drawing back to deliver a sharp slap there as well.

Again, Orlando jumps, but this time he manages to not yelp. Each blow has went straight to his groin, making his cock almost painfully hard. He shifts, trying to get comfortable, yelping when that large hand connects with his body once more. He doesn't have to see to know that he has red handprints there now. He can feel them, glowing, hot, a pleasurable tingle that goes straight up his spine to return and pool in his groin.

"Said what?" Karl takes his time with the next blow, palm smoothing over reddened skin, lips touching the base of a damaged spine.

"More than I did," Orlando whispers. He doesn't have to turn his head to know that Karl is smiling. Nor does he have to wait long for strong, gentle hands to part his thighs and pull him up until he's kneeling, hands still tied securely.

"Why?" Karl asks, slick fingers stretching, sliding, seeking. Warm lips glide over Orlando's shoulder, curving into a wicked smile when Orlando hisses in delight, body pushing back on the fingers that are now stroking his sweet spot.

Orlando struggles to focus, to remember the thread of the conversation. He is amazed when he does, more amazed when he manages a coherent reply. "Because then you'd know."

A warm, broad chest presses against Orlando's back; hot breath rasps across Orlando's ear. Fingers are replaced with cock, and the feeling is beyond exquisite, beyond sublime. Orlando feels strong teeth nip the side of his neck, his earlobe. And he shivers. Another shiver when Karl starts to move. A third shiver when a soft, wet tongue traces the shell of his ear.

"I already do, Orli," Karl whispers. "I already do."

Oh, yes...Orlando trusts Karl. He always has.


~fin~