Here, ficcy ficcy!
Nov. 24th, 2003 08:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seethingheathenWell. Since it's a couple hours in to the 25th over in the UK, I am going to cheat a bit and post my challenge fic. I never said which timezone, girls. GMT rules!
Title: Annoyance
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
limeysugar.
Feedback: If you want.
Pairing: Orlijah.
Rating: PG-15, maybe? For language.
Disclaimer: Untrue. Damn.
Notes: Written for the November Limey!Challenge. Elijah has a problem, the word ‘vegetables’ must be used, and the word ‘blue’ cannot be used.
Elijah sipped at his beer for the fifth time in as many minutes. Orlando sat at the bar next to him, pulling apart a cocktail napkin and swivelling on the stool. “Jesus, Orlando! Can’t you fucking hold still for thirty fucking seconds?”
Orlando stopped and stared down at the strips of paper piled on the bar, looking dejected enough to make Elijah feel bad. At the end of his mental count of thirty, he began to turn back and forth again, faster than he had before, while making swooshing sounds.
“Asshole.”
Orlando didn’t answer directly, just swooshed louder. His goal of the day, he’d decided that morning, was to annoy the living hell out of Elijah. So far, he was successful.
“I’m gonna get some cheese sticks.”
Orlando stopped swivelling momentarily and nodded. He watched as Elijah ate the fried cheese; as he dipped the end of the breaded stick into the marinara sauce, scooped a bit to catch the chunks of vegetables before putting it into his mouth, bit and pulled to stretch the mozzarella to its limit, and then lowered it slowly onto his tongue.
“You want some?”
Orlando spit his beer all over himself, the bar, and Elijah. It was hard enough to drink while turning back and forth on a barstool, but when his mind was turning innocent offers of food into perverted suggestions, it was doubly so.
“Fuck! What the hell is the matter with you? I’m gonna smell like a wino,” Elijah complained, dabbing at his shirt with his own napkin, which was already wet from having his pint glass sitting on it. “Are you trying to make me want to kiss you? Kill you,” Elijah coughed, fairly certain Orlando hadn’t noticed. “Are you trying to make me want to kill you?”
Orlando grinned, thinking that a wino would most likely smell like wine, and not beer, or maybe cheap beer at best. Then he started kicking the base of Elijah’s barstool, very, very lightly. He watched with delight as Elijah closed his eyes and tightened his fingers around his glass.
“Would you knock it off?”
Orlando stilled his feet and stopped swivelling. He looked over at Elijah, who was trying not to look at him, then took a peanut from the bowl on the bar and dropped it into Elijah’s beer. It fizzed a bit on its way to the bottom of the glass, and Elijah scowled at it.
“I’m not going to ask why you did that. I don’t want to know.” Elijah stood and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, took a few bills out, and set them on the bar. “I’m going to go home, have a shower and go to bed.”
Orlando watched as Elijah walked through the door and out to the carpark. By the time he’d remembered that he’d come to the pub with Elijah, in Elijah’s car, he was almost certain he’d been left behind. He got up, paid his tab, and dashed outside, only to find Elijah standing there, smoking.
“I was wondering how long it’d take you,” Elijah smirked, his cigarette dangling from his lips. “Should have left you here, what with the way you’ve been driving me bonkers all night.”
Without saying a word, Orlando reached out, took Elijah’s cigarette from his mouth and threw it on the ground. He watched as Elijah’s jaw dropped when Orlando’s shoe covered the smouldering butt and snuffed it out.
“What the fu-” Elijah started to yell, but the words were lost in Orlando’s mouth.
--end--
x-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
bloomwood_ and fellow_shippers.
Title: Annoyance
Author:
limeysugar.Feedback: If you want.
Pairing: Orlijah.
Rating: PG-15, maybe? For language.
Disclaimer: Untrue. Damn.
Notes: Written for the November Limey!Challenge. Elijah has a problem, the word ‘vegetables’ must be used, and the word ‘blue’ cannot be used.
Elijah sipped at his beer for the fifth time in as many minutes. Orlando sat at the bar next to him, pulling apart a cocktail napkin and swivelling on the stool. “Jesus, Orlando! Can’t you fucking hold still for thirty fucking seconds?”
Orlando stopped and stared down at the strips of paper piled on the bar, looking dejected enough to make Elijah feel bad. At the end of his mental count of thirty, he began to turn back and forth again, faster than he had before, while making swooshing sounds.
“Asshole.”
Orlando didn’t answer directly, just swooshed louder. His goal of the day, he’d decided that morning, was to annoy the living hell out of Elijah. So far, he was successful.
“I’m gonna get some cheese sticks.”
Orlando stopped swivelling momentarily and nodded. He watched as Elijah ate the fried cheese; as he dipped the end of the breaded stick into the marinara sauce, scooped a bit to catch the chunks of vegetables before putting it into his mouth, bit and pulled to stretch the mozzarella to its limit, and then lowered it slowly onto his tongue.
“You want some?”
Orlando spit his beer all over himself, the bar, and Elijah. It was hard enough to drink while turning back and forth on a barstool, but when his mind was turning innocent offers of food into perverted suggestions, it was doubly so.
“Fuck! What the hell is the matter with you? I’m gonna smell like a wino,” Elijah complained, dabbing at his shirt with his own napkin, which was already wet from having his pint glass sitting on it. “Are you trying to make me want to kiss you? Kill you,” Elijah coughed, fairly certain Orlando hadn’t noticed. “Are you trying to make me want to kill you?”
Orlando grinned, thinking that a wino would most likely smell like wine, and not beer, or maybe cheap beer at best. Then he started kicking the base of Elijah’s barstool, very, very lightly. He watched with delight as Elijah closed his eyes and tightened his fingers around his glass.
“Would you knock it off?”
Orlando stilled his feet and stopped swivelling. He looked over at Elijah, who was trying not to look at him, then took a peanut from the bowl on the bar and dropped it into Elijah’s beer. It fizzed a bit on its way to the bottom of the glass, and Elijah scowled at it.
“I’m not going to ask why you did that. I don’t want to know.” Elijah stood and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, took a few bills out, and set them on the bar. “I’m going to go home, have a shower and go to bed.”
Orlando watched as Elijah walked through the door and out to the carpark. By the time he’d remembered that he’d come to the pub with Elijah, in Elijah’s car, he was almost certain he’d been left behind. He got up, paid his tab, and dashed outside, only to find Elijah standing there, smoking.
“I was wondering how long it’d take you,” Elijah smirked, his cigarette dangling from his lips. “Should have left you here, what with the way you’ve been driving me bonkers all night.”
Without saying a word, Orlando reached out, took Elijah’s cigarette from his mouth and threw it on the ground. He watched as Elijah’s jaw dropped when Orlando’s shoe covered the smouldering butt and snuffed it out.
“What the fu-” Elijah started to yell, but the words were lost in Orlando’s mouth.
--end--
x-posted to
bloomwood_ and fellow_shippers.
