Pairing: Dom/Karl, and a little something at the end.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Disclaimer: I would sell my soul to the devil if this happened. Unfortunately, it hasn’t (to my knowledge).
Summary: It’s poker night at Dom’s house, and the guests lose more than their inhibitions.
"Fer goodness sake, Lij, put them down and take yer kit off!"
Staring amusedly above the mighty queen, her king beside her, and their three deuce children, a wicked smile grew over Dominic’s face, hidden by the blue-backed cards. Opposite the Englishman, across the table littered with beer bottles, wine glasses, and discarded cigarettes, Elijah stared at his hand, disbelief clouding those normally bright eyes.
Billy’s hand went to Elijah’s shirt. His bare chest rose and fell in the dim lampshade light, only a kilt covering his modesty.
“Lij,” Billy said, using his level no-nonsense tone. “If ye don’t take sommat off, I’ll take yer trousers off – and yer boxers, too.”
Elijah lowered his cards slowly to the table, and grabbed his smoldering clove cigarette from the ashtray. He inhaled deeply, before filling the crowded space with the smell of sweet cloves. Holding the cig between his fingers, he shrugged his way out of his shirt, throwing it down on the floor, before taking another inhale from his cloves.
A deep-throated chuckle came from his right side. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Elijah turned his head, and blew a smoke ring in the other man’s face. “Speaking as one who’s played the game before, Karl?”
The older Kiwi waved his hand in front of his face, wafting the smoke away. “As a matter of fact, I am.” He threw his cards on the table, and so did the others, discarded hands being collected by Orlando. The elf was sitting on the tattered old loveseat with Viggo, who looked rather comfortable despite the four beers he’d collected. All three of the men’s shirts were discarded on the floor, tanned skin and toned muscles exposed for all the room to see.
Orlando sorted all the cards, shuffling them slowly, deft elf-fingers now too full of alcohol to be trusted. “I suppose I’m ‘card boy’ now, am I?” he mumbled, clearly put off by his chore. “S’not like none of you can’t get up and shuffle these yourself.”
Viggo reached over and grabbed the cards from Orlando’s hand. “Don’t like to see elves cry.” he smirked. Orli grabbed one of the couch pillows and aimed for Viggo’s head. It sailed clear over and knocked a few DVDs off the dormant television.
“Hey, watch it!” Dom cried, getting up to retrieve the DVD’s. “Go ruin someone else’s apartment if you want to play!” Having replaced the DVD’s, he returned to his seat, and took the last sip of his second beer. “Viggo, you’re the dealer, since Orli can’t handle the pressure anymore.”
“I resent that.” Indignant, Orli opened the tiny cooler beside the table legs, taking out another beer to add to his collection.
Viggo leaned across the coffee table to deal the cards out. It was obvious he had done this many times before, as cards slid in front of each player with ease. ‘Show off’ was all the elf could mutter as he watched. “Okay everyone, same rules. Aces high, no wild cards. Five card draw. And no cheating.” For this last rule he looked up at Karl, who was smugly ignoring this remark.
Dom gingerly picked his cards up, and looked at them with disappointment. He’d been living off of pure luck so far, the only one left with his shirt on, but the hand he had now was far from extraordinary.
Viggo put the deck aside to look at his own hand. After a moment pondering, he picked the deck up again. “How many, Orli?”
“One as well.”
“Four and a prayer.”
Viggo grinned, and handed him his cards. “Not much of a poker player, are you Monaghan? Dealer takes two.”
Six sets of eyes exchanged looks around the room. Cards and bodies shifted nervously, hands guarding their cards from the prying eyes of their neighbors. One by one they laid their cards down on the table. Orlando, Billy, Viggo, and Karl were saved when Lij pulled out a weak hand that was only queen high.
Dom was last. He looked over his hand, and looked around the room again. All eyes were on him, but he duly noted Karl’s. The man’s eyes had a distinct knack of looking like they wanted to eat you alive. Dom looked away, unable to keep the man’s gaze for long, and threw down his cards.
Hoots and hollers filled the room. A sigh of relief and Elijah fell into Billy’s lap, breaking into laughter, as Dom’s measly cards laughed in his face. Viggo and Orli exchanged looks and chuckles – even Karl was having a laugh at Dom’s expense.
“Alright, alright, settle down ladies.” Dom quipped. He rose from his seat, and turned his back to the circle. Fingers grasping the bottom of his shirt, he swiveled his hips around, jeans outlining that lovely arse. He raised the hem slowly, teasingly, cat calls and offers of money for his belt coming from behind. Delectable shoulder blades appeared, and he slipped his head through the neck opening, last summer’s tan now fading. The shouting died down to murmurs of approval as Dom sat back in his seat.
Dom reached for the cooler as Viggo once again collected the cards. He grumbled his disapproval when all that was left in the cooler was water and ice. “I’m going for a beer, deal me out.” “Get us some more while you’re up!” Elijah added, holding up his nearly-empty bottle. “You have legs, go get it yourself.” Dom winked back. Lij huffed, and said no more.
Getting up from his seat, the sound of fluttering cards disappeared as soon as Dom reached his kitchen. The open fridge was a welcome relief from the stifling heat of his living room. He stood there for a silent moment, letting the cool air spread like fingers across his chest. Crawling up his abdomen, licking his nipples to hardness.
He ducked his head and reached to the bottom of the fridge, and pulled out some of New Zealand’s finest. Heading to the kitchen counter, he grabbed the bottle opener and cracked it open, taking a quick swig while the beer was still fizzing.
“What, you haven’t got one for me?”
Damn that voice. “I’m not your slave, Karl.” Dom quipped.
Karl laughed, and sidled up to Dom, leaning against the counter. “Really? That spot’s still available, you know.”
“Don’t joke around like that, it creeps me out.” Dom said, going back to his drink.
Karl’s smile did not fade. “Why not? You might like being my slave.”
Dom pondered this. Mr. Karl Urban wanted a slave. Not a bad idea, actually, it could pay off rather well. Then again, being tied down wasn’t really his cup of tea. Big, sweaty, long gay orgies, yes. Being strapped down, not so much.
Karl grabbed for Dom’s beer, which was resting on the counter. Bringing it to his mouth, he stared Dom straight in the eye as he wrapped his lips around the head of the bottle. Tilting his head back, he took some long, slow swallows. Dom swore he saw a flash of a pink tongue run over the bottle as Karl brought it down. The Kiwi’s lips were damp from the drink. Dom ran a tongue over his own, wetting them, lips slightly parted.
Grabbing Dom’s wrist, Karl gently turned him around, and stood in front of Dom, pushing him into the counter with his body. Dom’s cock responded to the slow grind their two bodies were in, hardening against Karl. Their kiss was equally slow, Dom tasting the alcohol in the other man’s mouth, tongues dipping and fighting.
Two hands wove their way around Dom’s waist, cupping his arse, and for a fleeting second Dom wondered if Karl would fuck him right there, right on his kitchen counter. He groaned at the image playing in his head, and twisted fingers in Karl’s hair, egging him on.
A burst of laughter, and a moan of disappointment from the living room shattered the illusion.
A distinctly Scottish voice rose above the others. “Sorry lads, but it’s late. Ah’ve got some make-up shots tomorrow. Tell Dommie ah’ll ring him later, and ah took some of his beer.”
Dom froze. He didn’t want Billy to see him with Karl. Billy wasn’t normally the type to tell others about Dom’s escapades, but he let it slip once, and Dom had suffered for a week in blue screen because of it. “Karl...” he warned, shifting.
Karl stopped. He stepped back a bit, cock straining against his jeans. Dom swallowed, and grabbed Karl by the hand, quickly dragging him out of the kitchen and into the hallway before Billy could see them. He was making for his bedroom, but as they passed Dom’s hallway closet, Karl opened the door and dragged Dom inside, shutting the door and pressing Dom’s chest against it. Dom could feel Karl’s strong chest pressed against his back.
“Ssh, be quiet for a moment.” Karl whispered into Dom’s ear, the hot breath causing a groan to escape from the other man’s lips. Karl heard Dom’s reaction and started pressing the bulge of his jeans into Dom’s flesh. Being quiet was proving hard for Dom to do, what with Karl’s cock hard against him, and his own mercilessly being pressed into the hard wood of the door.
Seconds past that felt like an eternity. Dom kept silent and still as Karl worked his hands around the front of his jeans, fingers trailing up and down his abs, settling on Dom’s hardness, working the zipper slowly. One hand undid the jeans, the other cupped Dom, massaging his stiffening cock through the denim. Dom moaned low and grinded back against Karl’s erection.
Dom was about to question Karl’s silent insistence, when he heard voices on the other side of the door. Voices. Someone giggled, but was stopped short. Another voice spoke out. “Make him squirm, Viggo.” Orlando?
Karl’s lips brushed along his ear, making him shiver. “Listen to what they’re saying.” He whispered. “Don’t pay attention to me.” Dom nodded. Karl’s hand was stroking him, making Dom unbearably hard. Dom’s jeans were pooled around his ankles, and as lips worked down his spine, he could feel Karl fumbling with his own.
Ear pressed to the door, Dom could almost hear what was being said – mostly what wasn’t being said. He could hear moaning, a chuckle, the creaking of the floor as three bodies moved away slowly. Oh those wankers – using his bed to have their own private orgy. If it wasn’t for Karl stroking… pressing into his thigh… oh, fuck those three.
Karl removed his hand from Dom’s cock, and grasped Dom’s hips, turning the man around so Dom’s back was now against the cold, wooden door. Dom couldn’t see his face in the dark, but the eyes glinted with the light through the door crack. They were animalistic, want having taken over from play long ago. Those eyes studied Dom for a moment, and then they disappeared.
Dom would have thought Karl was getting dressed, if not for the feather of the Kiwi’s lips on his chest. He moaned as they flittered from one nipple to the other, licking and nipping them to hardness as the cool air had done. Dom’s hand moved to touch himself, satisfy his need to come, but Karl batted his hand away. Instead, his hands stayed on Dom’s hips, as his tongue moved slowly down Dom’s chest to his cock.
“Bastards… fucking in my bed…” Dom gasped out.
Karl hummed, hands stroking Dom’s legs, mouth nipping lightly at the inside of Dom’s thighs. “We’d better be quick then, if we want to join them.”
“Wha-?” was all Dom could say before Karl took him into his mouth. The rest was lost in the darkness, reduced to gasps and muttered curses.
Karl’s tongue ran along the base of Dom’s cock, making the other man groan and thrust his hips. As he sucked, his hands stayed on Dom’s arse, massaging the flesh, making a small pleased noise as Dom began to rock in his mouth. His tongue licked the head of Dom’s cock, tasting the salt and the sweat, before moving down it again.
Dom was gripping the doorframe for dear life. It felt like Karl would suck the very life out of him, if he had the chance. His fingers found their way to Karl’s hair, entwining in it, delighting in the pleasure of Karl’s warm mouth. “Karl...” he moaned, feeling the familiar twist in his stomach. So close.
Karl sensed Dom’s urgency, and only sucked harder, one hand fondling Dom’s balls, his pace quickened. His own cock ached badly, and he wanted to bring himself off, but he wanted to taste Dom sooner than later.
Writhing, Dom felt his balls tighten, and he gave a hoarse cry, fingers locked in a death grip with Karl’s hair as he came. And Karl swallowed him greedily, not letting go until Dom was done and looking for breath. He rose, and reached behind Dom, opening the closet door.
Blinded by the sudden light, Dom blinked furiously as he wandered into his hallway, naked and spent. Karl followed, wrapping a gentle arm around Dom’s waist, guiding him in the direction of Dom’s room. The light was still on, the door slightly ajar, the sounds from inside unmistakable. Wanting to see, Dom put his eye to the crack.
Clothes were strewn all over the bed and the floor. Lij was on his hands and knees on the mattress, Orlando’s cock in his mouth. Orlando’s long fingers were holding onto Lij’s head, his eyes shut, locked into pleasure. Dom’s lube was thrown on the floor, along with an empty condom packet. Viggo was already fucking Lij, standing at the foot of the bed, hands grasping those lovely, pale hips as he thrust long and slow.
Dom looked back at Karl, who was also watching. Karl was grinning, watching Viggo fuck Lij, watching his face screw up when he thrust in. Dom found himself smiling as well, as he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Orli, who didn’t notice him.
“Think we should leave them to it?” he said, whispering low enough for Karl alone to hear.
Karl licked his lips. “Viggo and I have an old score to settle.” He then chuckled. “A pair, and three of a kind. Why don’t we make it a full house?”
Dom grinned. “Sounds fine to me. Besides, they owe me for the lube.”
The two kissed once more, and went inside.