
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5264324.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Lord_of_the_Rings_RPF
  Relationship:
      Orlando_Bloom/Elijah_Wood
  Character:
      Orlando_Bloom, Elijah_Wood
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Comedy, Romance, Angst, Masturbation,
      Porn_Magazines
  Series:
      Part 2 of Orlijah_Month_2011
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-03-01 Words: 1822
****** Tradeoff ******
by Moit
Summary
     AU - Elijah and Orlando are schoolmates at an English boys' school.
     Orlando is the bloke who can get things. Elijah needs things.
Notes
     Written for
     [http://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/community.gif?v=556?v=133.2]
orlijah_month prompt #22: School Boy
Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books, But love from love,
toward school with heavy looks. – Romeo & Juliet Act II Scene 2.
Elijah found Orlando smoking behind the equipment shed, just as they’d planned.
“Have you got the stuff?” Elijah asked, glancing around nervously.
Orlando patted the sack at his feet. “You got the payment?” he asked, blowing a
stream of smoke out the side of his mouth.
Elijah pulled the pack of Lucky Strikes out of his pocket, looking around again
to make sure they weren’t being watched.
“Very nice,” Orlando replied, reaching into his bag to pull out a plain brown
sack.
The boys swapped contraband and Elijah was hurrying across the quad before
anyone could see him meeting with the most notorious boy in school. He fidgeted
on the bus all the way home, scarfed down his dinner, and bid his parents an
early goodnight. They looked at him curiously, but he claimed he had a ton of
homework.
Unfortunately, he didn’t feel safe enough until his parents went to bed, so he
spent the hours in between actually doing homework and sneaking glances in the
brown sack. Finally, finally, he heard the whispered voices of his parents and
the soft snick of their bedroom door.
Elijah waited the span of three heartbeats before he reached for the sack.
First he had to be sure his parents were in bed for the night. Normally, they
never bothered him after bedtime, but he was especially paranoid tonight
because of the contents of his paper sack.
After checking with his ear to the door one last time, Elijah settled on the
bed with the paper sack resting on his stomach. Feeling the anticipation
building, he reached inside and pulled out the magazine. The aptly named Twinks
cover featured two hairless young boys with their tongues wrapped around one
another. Elijah felt his dick harden.
He propped the magazine up on bent knees and worked a hand underneath the khaki
uniform trousers he was still wearing. With his free hand, he turned the glossy
pages. He stopped on photo of two boys, one of whom had dark curly hair and a
look of intense concentration on his face. His cock was buried deep inside the
other boy’s body. The boy taking the cock had spiky brown kitten-hair and a
creamy mocha complexion. His dark brown eyes were focused intently on the boy
above him like he was the only boy in the world.
Elijah fell into the fantasy in his head.
Elijah is the boy taking cock in the photo. Above him, his lover slides
effortlessly into his body. This is their first time—Elijah’s first time, at
least—and his lover has taken care to prepare him slowly and carefully. It
hurts a bit at first—just a slight stretch, but his lover is patient, pausing
as long as Elijah needs him to. When Elijah gives him the okay, his lover
begins moving in long, pleasurable strokes.
On his bed, Elijah’s hand sped up on his cock. He licked his lips and moaned
softly. He couldn’t get too loud because his parents might here, but he was
unable to help just this one vocalization of his pleasure.
Back in the fantasy, Elijah’s lover’s strokes have become more frantic, more
needy. His hand goes to Elijah’s cock—Elijah would never have to jerk himself
off. And his lover would never come before Elijah. The feeling of Elijah’s
lover inside him and the hand on his cock brings him over the edge. He covers
his stomach and moments later his lover comes deep inside him.
Elijah set the magazine aside to keep it from getting sticky. He pulled a few
tissues out of the box and mopped himself up. With a satisfied sigh, he slid
the magazine back inside its sack and tucked it under his mattress. He shucked
his khakis and crawled into bed.
*
Normally, it wasn’t Orlando’s business to question his customers. He didn’t
care if you were asking for condoms, alcohol, videos, or better marks. As long
as you had the payment, he’d get your product. No problem. The harder the item
was to procure, the more smokes it would cost.
What piqued Orlando’s curiosity wasn’t how hard the item was to get—gay porn
mags were one of the easier products to procure. Orlando was becoming more
curious because Elijah had asked for a new magazine every day for the last two
weeks, and delivered smokes on time. The fact that they were gay porn didn’t
even hit his radar. Like the product, the sexual orientation of his customers
was none of his business. What Orlando couldn’t figure out was what Elijah was
doing with all those magazines. Surely one would be enough wank material for at
least a week.
But since he had no other ideas, and Elijah was still placing orders, Orlando
decided to ask him.
As they switched Lucky Strikes for brown sack, Orlando opened his mouth. “What
do need so many mags for, anyway?” he asked, as casually as possible.
Elijah froze like a deer in headlights. The hand holding the sack clenched and
his face flooded with colour. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s not like I don’t know what’s in that sack,” Orlando said coyly. He
lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke gracefully out the side of his mouth. “I
just can’t figure out why you need so many. Do you use the pages to clean up
after you’re done, or something?”
“No,” Elijah replied quickly.
Orlando stared at him while he smoked. “What is it, then?”
“None of your business,” Elijah mumbled, and turned to leave.
“If you don’t tell me, I’m not selling to you anymore,” Orlando called out.
Elijah stopped and turned around, the sack clutched to his chest. His eyes were
full of apprehension and fear. “You mean that, don’t you?”
Orlando finished his cigarette and flicked it aside. “I have enough smokes from
you alone to last me the rest of the month. I can afford to pick my customers.”
Looking down, Elijah licked his lips. Orlando could tell he was considering his
options. Finally, he reached into the sack and pulled out the magazine. At
first, Orlando thought he’d give it back and demand his smokes. But Elijah
flipped through the pages of the magazine and turned it so Orlando could see
the photo of a dark haired boy.
“I’ve been looking for more of him,” Elijah said, eyes flicking nervously from
Orlando’s face to the magazine. Anyone who knew Orlando would be hard-pressed
to deny that the boy in the picture looked almost identical to him.
“That bloke looks just like me!” Orlando said, barking out a laugh.
Elijah looked like he wanted the earth to just open up and swallow him whole.
Silently, he closed the magazine and worked it back into its paper sack. “I
didn’t want you to think I was . . . you know . . . hitting on you or anything.
It’s just a coincidence.”
Orlando shrugged, nonplussed. “I was just curious. Same time tomorrow, then?”
Unable to mask his surprise, Elijah nodded slowly. He tucked the magazine into
his school bag and walked away. Orlando watched him go with a bemused
expression on his face.
*
The next afternoon, Elijah was fidgety and nervous. He wanted to get this over
with as soon as possible, considering Orlando already knew his secret. He
fumbled the Lucky Strikes out of his pocket and reached for the brown sack, but
as soon as Orlando handed it over, Elijah realised it felt conspicuously light.
With a sinking heart, and Orlando’s eyes on him, Elijah reached into the sack
and pulled out a single piece of paper. On it was a phone number.
Elijah glanced from the number to the smirk on Orlando’s face and his heart
sank. He’d been had. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, tears beginning to
prick his eyes. He was sure the number was for a self-help hotline or something
similar. Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.
Orlando’s dark eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “Elijah, that’s my phone
number.”
Elijah’s mouth formed a little “o” of surprise, and the anger melted from his
face. “Your phone number?”
“My phone number.”
“You gave me your phone number?”
“Is there an echo out here?” Orlando asked, glancing around.
“Why would you give me your phone number?” Elijah asked, confusion turning to
suspicion.
Orlando just stared at him. Finally, he said, “Okay, if you’re that daft, then
give me back my number and I’ll get you your magazine instead.”
This seemed to slap some realization back into Elijah. “This isn’t a joke? You
really meant to give me your number?”
“You are daft,” Orlando said with finality, reaching for the paper, but Elijah
held it aloft.
“I’m not daft, I just want to make sure you’re not having me on.”
Orlando sighed audibly. “Do I look like I’m having you on?”
Elijah shrugged.
“Whatever,” Orlando said, picking up his bag. “Call me or don’t.”
He walked away before Elijah could stop him.
*
Once again, Elijah was waiting for his parents to go to bed. He had the
cordless phone in his lap, along with the scrap of paper bearing Orlando’s
number. His heart began to pound as soon as he heard his parents’ door close.
This time he waited a full five minutes before he picked the phone up.
Elijah dialed Orlando’s number and put the phone to his ear.
“Hello?”
Elijah found himself at a loss for words.
“Hello?” the voice on the other line repeated.
“Orlando?” Elijah finally irked out.
“This is he.”
“Hi . . . um. It’s Elijah.”
“Elijah.” Orlando rolled the name on his tongue like he was tasting a fine
wine. “I wasn’t sure you’d call.”
“I . . . yeah. Yeah.” Mentally, Elijah cursed himself for his apparently
pathetic conversational skills.
“The reason I gave you my number is because I wanted to ask if you were
collecting photos of the bloke in the magazine because he reminded you of me,
or . . .” Orlando let his question hang in the air with the potential it
carried.
Truthfully, Elijah had realised the boy looked like Orlando, but he never
thought he’d find out. “What if he did remind me of you?”
“Then I’d probably ask you out.”
Elijah had to keep himself from giggling like a girl. “Well he did. Remind me
of you, I mean.”
“In that case, do you want to go out with me tomorrow night?”
“I’d love to.”
They worked out the details and Elijah hung up the phone. He couldn’t believe
he’d gone from wanking to magazines to having a real date with a real boy.
Orlando, none-the-less. Before Elijah went to bed, he wrapped all of his dirty
magazines in a sack and put them in the rubbish bin outside. With the real
thing, he wouldn’t need them anymore.
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