Karl wanted to fuck him.

Which was great, because he wanted Karl to fuck him. The problem was that Karl seemed interested but wasn't doing anything about it, and Orlando was getting annoyed.

"Fuck. Me. Fuck. Me. Fuck. Me," he chanted under his breath, in rhythm to his pushups. "What are you waiting for?"

Whatever was causing Karl's hesitation, tonight was it; this was the last night Orlando was hanging around the gym until after everyone had left but Karl. It was now or never. Tonight he was pulling out all the stops, saying goodbye to subtle flirting, and was just going to hit on Karl, plain and straightforward.

And if that didn't work, he was going to a club to pick up a random bloke, go home, and make the guy fuck the stuffing out of him until he forgot all about Karl. No use fretting over what you can't have, even if it is almost two meters of solid muscle, barely restrained energy, and the most wickedly sexy eyes on the planet. And that mouth...

"Don't even get started on the mouth," Orlando told himself sternly, "because then you'll move on to other body parts like that arse and those *thighs*..." He took a moment to swallow the drool gathering in his mouth. "Focus. Doing pushups is no place to get an erection. Bad form when your cock hits the mat before your chest."

So anyway. Tonight was the night. Orlando was going to get laid or die trying.

Karl was on the treadmill, jogging with a walkman on, which was good because he hadn't heard Orlando mumbling to himself. Since verbal seduction wasn't a possibility, Orlando had decided to stay within Karl's line of sight and tempt him into action that way.

So far it seemed to be working; the occasional flickers of Karl's eyes had been promising and the hungry look he'd given Orlando as he'd slowly pulled off his tank top prior to hitting the mat for pushups had been very rewarding. Karl had even let out a bit of a groan, barely audible over the sound of the treadmill, as his eyes lingered on Orlando's damp skin.

Oh yeah; Karl wanted him for sure. Orlando just had to get him to make a move. Maybe it was time for something more interactive, since Karl was finishing up his run. He usually moved to the bench press next, but tonight Orlando was going to beat him to it.

By the time Karl had toweled off a bit, Orlando was sitting on the weight bench, drinking from his bottle of water.

Karl gave him an inquiring look.

Orlando smiled charmingly. "Thought I'd risk getting too bulky for my costume and actually use some weights for a change. Mind spotting me?" It was all he could do not to flutter his eyes and giggle like a girl.

Karl nodded. "Sure. You're going to lift all that?" he asked, gesturing at the loaded barbell.

"I can handle it," Orlando said.

"All right then. Ready?"

"Always," he winked. Orlando stretched out on his back along the bench, feeling the vinyl stick to the sweat on his back and Karl's eyes on the rivulets trailing down his chest. He wrapped his hands around the bar and Karl took a hold of the center as Orlando straightened his arms, lifting the weight off the rack. Karl moved closer, both hands guiding, just in case.

As Orlando bent and straightened his arms, Karl counted, sounding a bit more breathless than was usual after his run. At "Five... Six..." he shuffled even closer, and Orlando glanced back at him. Orlando's arms weakened for a moment as what he saw registered in his brain; Karl was practically about to straddle the bench right above Orlando's head. His glance had been of tense thighs, dark blue shorts, and a totally obvious bulge. More than was typical. Deliciously more.

Orlando's mouth watered.

"Ten... Eleven... Aren't you going to rest between sets?"

Karl's voice made Orlando blink and refocus his eyes higher up, on the face above. Karl had a vaguely strained look about him, very flushed but trying to smile as he chided Orlando for overdoing it.

Perfect, Orlando thought. "One more," he grunted, and at twelve they put the weight back on the rack. Orlando sat up, watching Karl, who looked flustered. Orlando picked up his water bottle and shirt, and took a drink. He patted off his face and chest. Karl clearly had no idea how he was staring: like a parched man in a desert, looking at a mirage, unable to believe.

Orlando stifled a grin. If Karl could resist this, he was calling it quits and heading to a club Craig had recommended. He went for the kill.

The hand holding his sweat-damp shirt drifted down Orlando's throat and chest, to rest in his lap, drawing Karl's gaze. Slowly, Orlando lifted the water bottle, letting his eyes drift almost shut. Holding the bottle away from his mouth, he squeezed, squirting some water into his open mouth and letting the rest wash down his throat and chest. "Hot," he moaned, drawing his tongue over his lips in a slow, lascivious motion. "So hot." He lifted the water bottle higher and poured most of the contents onto his head, letting it drip down his sizzling skin.

Karl was frozen in place, watching. His hands were clenched, face pink, and tongue licking his own mouth as if the air itself tasted of Orlando. He whimpered.

But he still wasn't moving.

Bollocks, Orlando thought. I give up. Almost.

"Karl," he said out loud.

Karl blinked and refocused his eyes on Orlando's face, looking like a trapped rabbit. He cleared his throat. "Um. Yeah?"

"Are you going to fuck me?" Orlando asked.

There was a long pause as Orlando watched the words slowly sink in. And then without answering, without even seeing Karl move, Orlando was pinned flat on his back on the bench as Karl's tongue lapped up the water from his jaw, throat, and collarbones.

"Fucking finally," Orlando groaned, hands tangling into Karl's hair to redirect him up. Their mouths crashed together as Karl pushed his body more on top of Orlando's. One hand wormed its way under Orlando's shoulder blades while the other slid from his knee, where it had wrapped around Karl's hip, down his thigh, to cup his ass and pull their groins closer. Their bodies strained together, shoving against each other and the bench, eager for more contact.

Finally, Orlando wrenched his mouth free to gasp, "Clothes. Off. Now."

Panting, Karl nodded and stepped back, pulling off his shirt, while Orlando shrugged off his shorts, not bothering with his trainers. He turned over and spread himself across the weight bench, moaning as he ground his erection into the padded surface. Karl made a noise between a whimper and a groan, as he lunged forward.

"Wait," Orlando stopped him, pointing across the gym. "Get my bag."

Karl raised an eyebrow.

Orlando smiled sweetly. "I've got condoms and lube in it. I wasn't letting you get away this time."

Karl grinned, and Orlando could see some of the nervousness drain from him. He fetched the bag, handing it to Orlando, who quickly fished the necessities out, gave them to Karl, and rolled back over.

Fuck, he could just imagine how he must look; naked, on the bench, arse spread open, still with his white socks and trainers still on. He arched his back and ground into the vinyl. "Touch me," he said, half begging, half commanding.

Karl obediently slicked up his hand and grabbed Orlando's arse, tracing the crease with his thumb, gently stroking across the opening. After a moment, he eased one thumb in and wiggled it around. Orlando groaned, pushing back eagerly. Karl responded by sliding both thumbs in and stretching.

The weight bench creaked under Orlando's death grip. "Now Karl. Stick it in *now*."

Still silent, Karl pulled his hands away, and Orlando tensed for a moment until he heard the familiar crinkle of plastic wrapper, and then the most delicious pressure as Karl slid inside.

Karl's cock was thick and filling and full and "Fuck yes" spilled out of Orlando's mouth with a groan. "Finally!"

Karl started at a relatively fast pace, his strong hands alternating between stroking Orlando's back and drifting down to hold onto his hips. Pretty soon he was bent over Orlando with his hands clenching the weight bench, and thrusting for all he was worth.

Orlando was in heaven. This was the fucking he'd wanted, *craved*, from Karl for as long as he could remember. It was hot and sticky and raw and needy and urgent and just this side of out of control and it was bloody fucking *perfect*.

He managed to let go of his grip on the bench, push himself up enough to get his hand around his cock, and start to stroke himself hard and fast. He could tell Karl was close, as the thrusts got harder and lost rhythm, going for the home stretch. His climax built for an endless moment, and then Orlando's whole body jerked convulsively, every muscle clenched and taut for a long moment. He yelled impossible obscenities and came all over his hand, his chest, and the blue vinyl bench, as the fiercest orgasm he could recall tore through his body.

Bones turned into pudding, Orlando collapsed onto the very sticky bench as Karl gave a few last hard thrusts and came with an animalistic howl. His hips gradually slowed and stopped, the last shivers of sensation ebbing, as he slumped down.

Orlando made a vaguely pained noise, feeling squashed.

After a moment, Karl took a deep breath and slowly pulled out. He moved away, then carefully turned Orlando over and pulled him down onto the mat on the floor. They held eye contact for a moment, both with the same satiated smiles, before Karl ducked his head and licked Orlando's stomach clean.

"Mmm... That was brilliant," he murmured as Karl finished, tugging him back up to lie next to him.

Karl nodded.

"Knew it would be... What were you waiting for?" he asked.

Karl was silent for so long that Orlando wondered if he'd dozed off. Quietly, Karl answered, "Only other time with a bloke was a pretty bad experience, when I was just a kid. Never thought I'd want to give it another go..." He sighed, and then chuckled. "But fuck, Orlando, who could resist you? Once you've set your mind on someone, that's the end of it; I've never been so thoroughly seduced before."

"Well, it's good thing I did, yeah? You seemed pretty clueless," Orlando laughed. "But are you always so silent when you fuck? I like the sexy accent," he said, wiggling next to Karl and pressing his reawakening erection into Karl's firm thigh to make it clear that he wasn't even close to finished for the evening.

Karl rolled over and kissed him quickly, before pulling back with a grin, "Y'know, they say Kiwis can talk the hind legs off a donkey. Let's go back to my place and see if I can talk the balls off an elf."

~the end~