Behind The Mask

Behind The Mask

Posted: April 6, 2007
Title: Behind The Mask
Author: Lostiawen
Type: RPS
Characters: Orlando/Eric Bana, Orlando/Viggo
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, none of this really happened. The author is not associated with or is implying anything about the sexual preferences or the lives of the people depicted within.
Warning: Where do I start? Crack!lite, so AU it's ridiculous, total misuse of super powers for smutty purposes, bondage, domination. I probably missed something, but my head's already exploding from the idea that I actually wrote this thing.
Author's Notes: Um, yeah. I've definitely been toking on the crack pipe. What happened is that I found a call for superhero smut, but the page limit was too tiny for my writing style.

So, I was going to put this bunny in my unfinished folder, but it kept nibbling on my toes and wanting out. And it wouldn't leave me alone. So, here it is.

And Beth's wonderful BanaBloom stories have been slowly corrupting me, too. Thus, my first BanaBloom. *shakes head* Beth, I hope Muffin and Bunny will get a laugh out of this, because I think I went completely insane.

Summary: What are our friendly neighborhood superheroes like behind the scenes?

*****

Orlando considered workout times to be the best. He needed to put muscle on his skinny frame, something that Eric was always teasing him about. Besides, it gave him a chance to scope out his other teammates.

As if he really needed motivation – he'd never get tired of watching Eric's, or rather Titan's, rippling back; Karl's powerful thighs, or...

"It's not polite to stare." A voice said from behind him.

Great. He could always count on Zen to burst his bubble. He couldn't figure out why the guy was such a stodgy pillock; he didn't look like he was much older than Orlando's age. What also annoyed him was that Zen had a smashing body under that tight ninja suit - all lean lines and clearly defined muscles. Not to mention the fact that a mind had to work overtime after seeing his teammate bending backwards to touch the crown of his head to his ankles.

Orlando was sure that Zen could blow himself. Unfortunately, he was so uptight that the only blowing he probably did was to cool off soup. And Orlando felt anything but cool around him.

He grimaced at Zen, hoping to get a reaction, but his brown eyes were calm, as they always were. That was all Orli could ever see of Zen's face -- his eyes. Zen never took his costume off around headquarters. Hell, maybe he slept in the damn thing.

The other annoying thing is that Zen always seemed to disapprove of Orlando's dealings with extra-dimensional creatures -- frequently misnamed 'demons' by most ordinary people. They were far from the evil fork-tailed beings everyone thought they were, but the first ones that mystics had contacted had been the wrong sort, and that impression had stuck throughout the centuries.

Most demons had odd senses of humor and different values, but they were quite reasonable. Orlando had defied conventional mystical practice to go study with them, and he became a quite powerful mage as a result. His spells were a hybrid of all of the schools he had apprenticed under, drawing on such a kaleidoscope of different sources that they embodied the best of all worlds.

"You're staring again." Zen's voice startled Orlando back to the present.

Orlando glared at his mysterious teammate. "Why not? It's not like Eric minds."

Eric was a completely wild ride in bed, and he could also shatter buildings with his pinky. Not good for a mage at all. Not if Orlando wanted to live after shagging the afternoon away. It took months before he found a spell that could sap Eric's strength down to a reasonable levels.

"You shouldn't be giving your favors away so readily," Zen added.

Orlando let out a loud snort. "Let me tell you something. The reason why I can have demons do favors for me is that I speak their language. Currency in their dimension is sexual -- having an orgy is like taking someone out to a posh dinner."

"It cheapens the act."

"It takes the oh-so-high and mighty mystique out of it. Too many people get tied up in knots over it, when it's *just* sex."

"It's never just sex," Zen said.

Orlando resisted the urge to conjure up a huge demon to spank the hell out of his teammate. "You know, for a guy who can bend any type of energy and practically tie his body into a pretzel, you're a really inflexible git."

"I'm disciplined." Zen's expression didn't change, nothing seem to flap him. Orlando could attest to that, since he'd been needling his teammate since he first arrived.

Orlando could feel the beginnings of a headache forming. "Whatever. I'm tired of taking the piss with you."

He stomped back into his room, needing some space to cool down. He swung it open in anger and caught his hand the edge of it, ripping a shallow cut into the side of his palm.

Orlando grunted in frustration and examined the damage. It wasn't even worth a spell to fix. Shaking his head, he went into his bathroom, where he kept first-aid supplies.

The first thing he noticed was that his medicine cabinet had been popped open. The second thing he noticed was that his aspirin, shaving cream, and toothbrush had been scattered about. The box of Band-Aids was missing.

Only one thing was responsible for this. "Festule, damnit! Did you eat my bandages again?"

A small, doughy looking imp poked his nose out from behind a table. "Oh yes. Very tasty, yum. Good treat."

Orlando rolled his eyes. Festule was a damned annoying helper at times. He was perpetually hungry and always nibbled on things that were as synthetic as possible. Bandages were his favorite food, but he had also devoured Orlando's ball point pens, and sucked down the jewel cases for his CDs. He never touched the discs themselves. The imp had once commented that the metal made them taste bad.

At least he didn't eat the stirring sticks out of Orli's coffee this time. With a sigh, Orlando began to clean up the mess.

"Maybe I should have gotten a dog instead," he muttered to himself.

It wasn't too bad, his tube of antibiotic cream was still intact, and he squeezed it over the cut before he put everything back in order.

He had just finished when there was a knock at his door. "Who is it?"

"Who else would it be?" a deep rumbling voice purred.

Orlando grinned and turned to the imp. "Karl has a big tin of bandages for you, mate."

Festule cooed, "Oh, tasty, tasty, must eat!" He flapped his leathery wings and took off at top speed out of the room, flitting past an amused Eric.

Orli smiled when he saw the walking wall in classic Grecian armor. "Feeling a little worked up after your work out?" he purred.

Eric closed the distance between them and wrapped a broad arm carefully around Orlando's waist. "You know what I want, boy."

Orlando closed the door with a soft word and then he looked up at Eric. He started chanting softly, weaving his hands to trace an intricate pattern in the air. Coruscating patterns of light surrounded Eric, making his entire body glow until it was almost blinding. The light faded, and a small globe of energy bobbed beside him, trapping his phenomenal strength.

Once that was done, Orli reached around and undid Eric's plate skirt, leaving him clad in a loincloth. He slid to his knees and pushed his face underneath, nuzzling the musky curls surrounding Eric's huge cock.

Moisture was already welling out of the tip, and he started lapping eagerly, circling his tongue around the head before delving into the slit.

Eric wound his fingers in Orlando's hair. "That's it..." he moaned, thrusting forward.

Orlando relaxed his throat, taking Eric's entire length in with ease. It wasn't easy -- Eric had heroic proportions everywhere. That problem was solved by a persistent spell Orli had conjured to suppress his gag reflex, enabling him to swallow an entire string of kielbasas if he wanted to.

Speaking of which, he needed to be fucked by that beercan-thick cock right now. He moaned around Eric's flesh, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

With a growl, Eric pulled out and said, "Make yourself ready."

A whispered spell, and they were both naked in an instant. A bottle of lube appeared in Orli's hand and he squirted the gel onto his fingers. True, he could have taken the time out to undress them and for supplies, but he always preferred to shortcut when fucking was involved.

Lying back on the floor, he spread his legs wide, and pushed a slick finger into himself. He pumped it in and out, moaning as he stroked himself inside.

Eric's eyes darkened, and he rasped. "That's it, boy..."

Orlando's body was thrumming with need now, and he pulled his finger out and slathered lube over Eric's cock. "Please...I want you."

He moaned when Eric cupped his ass in his large hands and lifted him into the air without any effort. Orlando was suspended at a ninety degree angle to the ground, easily supported by Eric's strength. Thumbs pried open his cheeks before he was impaled in one stroke.

"Fuck, yes!" Orlando cried out, his fingers digging into Eric's biceps. "More!"

With a low grunt, Eric obliged, thrusting into him so hard that he could feel the shock in his teeth. Orlando lost himself, drowning in sensation. Eric's cock brushed across his prostate with every stroke, driving him insane.

"Please, more!" he pleaded.

"Beg me for it," Eric growled before he jabbed Orlando.

"I need you to fuck me so hard that I won't even remember my name...mark me as yours, Eric, please..."

Eric's eyes grew dark with lust and he let Orlando fall back towards the floor, still supporting him at a downward angle by wrapping his hands around Orlando's slim waist. The hard strokes abruptly picked up in speed and Eric was jackhammering into him, fucking him without mercy until he threw his head back and slammed in for one final thrust, howling as his cock twitched and he filled Orlando with his release.

Orlando quivered in Eric's arms. He needed release, and he needed it now.

"Please," he whimpered, running his hand along Eric's. A choked gurgle escaped his lips when Eric reached down and grabbed his throbbing cock.

"Come for me, boy," he purred while tugging on Orlando's overheated flesh.

It only took a few strokes before Orlando keened, clamping down and shuddering as he climaxed. His head was still spinning when Eric pulled out of him and carried him over to the bed. They collapsed together in a heap on the mattress and Orlando floated in pure bliss, enjoying the press of Eric's sweaty body against his own.

When he came back down, Orlando let out a little chuckle. "If only your fans could see you now. 'Titan loves doing Greek god and servant boy roleplaying'."

Eric gave him a light whack on the arm. "You spill that and you'll be seeing 'Blaise squeals like a girl when nailed' spread all over the Net."

Orlando stuck his tongue out. "I already have a sketchy reputation. Working with extra-dimensional types isn't as socially acceptable as being an avatar of the original Greek Titans."

"That just adds to your charm," Eric said with a smile.

Orlando stretched and said, "Speaking of images, why in fuck is Zen such a prick? Everyone knows everyone else's secret ID except for him. All I know is that he can re-shape any sort of energy-based attack and that he's a bang-up martial artist."

"And of course you didn't notice that he can bend down and touch his face to the ground while doing a full splits?" Eric asked.

Orlando's dick twitched at Eric's words. "Fuck, are you taking the piss? 90% of my wanking fantasies involve Zen sucking his cock until he gives himself a cream facial. Good luck on that happening."

Orlando paused and brushed a damp curl out of his face. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was a villain trying to infiltrate us."

Eric shook his head. "Sean vetted him, he's clean. And he's been really useful."

Orli was about to comment when Sean's voice came over the loudspeakers. "Oi! A new villain has landed in Los Angeles and he's threatening to destroy all of North America. Looks like he fancies himself a spellcaster."

Orlando groaned and mumbled a quick spell to clean them up and dress them. "Back to work."

He grabbed the bobbling globe of energy and tossed it at Eric. It hit Eric's broad chest and a luminous glow spread over his body, restoring his untold strength

"Try to remember to not pinch my arse or you'll crush me like a grape, yeah?" Orlando said with a grin. He squeaked the next moment when he felt a hard pinch.

"You know that I only lose control when I'm fucking you," Eric replied.

"Mmm, and that's why you're such a fantastic shag." He chanted softly, summoning a protection spell to keep him from harm. Multi-colored bands of mystic energy sparked and danced around him, combining and forming a globe around his slender body. "All right, let me fetch Festule and let's do this."

***

Orlando shifted in his seat on the Crusaders' jet, wondering if Zen was going to give him another lecture on proper superhero garb. As if he was going to listen -- most of the costumes that the other mages wore were either boring, silly looking, or just simply ridiculous. After a lot of hard thinking, Orli had come up with what he thought was a great solution. He created a spell that would alter his appearance based on the expectations of the person who was looking at him.

So he would look like a wise old mage in flowing robes to one person, and a kid in a tophat to another. Hell, for all he knew, someone may have pictured him in drag sporting a Playboy Bunny outfit with fishnets; this left Orlando free to wear whatever he wanted, so he usually went into battle in his low-riders and one of his colourful shirts.

The jet banked, and Orlando looked out the window. It wasn't hard to see their target -- the crater in the middle of downtown L.A. was a dead giveaway.

Miranda said from the pilot's seat, "I'll make a dive, and you guys can bail out of the hatch."

"On it," Orlando said while he was affixing a tiny radio to his lapel. It was Karl's invention -- allowing everyone on the team to communicate with each other.

Zen, Sean, and Eric were already prepped and they lined up first, since none of them could fly. Orli and Karl would dive out on the second wave, following after them.

After making sure that Festule was safely perched behind his head, Orlando cast his flight spell and said, "We're set."

Miranda nodded, and the jet dipped, sweeping down on the crater. The first team bailed out, and Orlando saw a solid column of energy headed straight for them. Zen had the quickest reflexes, and he attempted to dodge out of the way. The column flattened out, though, catching Zen, Sean, and Eric in its blast radius.

A split second later, Orlando saw his teammates getting hurled back about 100 yards, causing them to plow through several highrises. Orli winced, that would bring down the property values like mad. And the insurance people still classified collateral damage from heroes as "Acts of God."

At least his teammates were all right. Judging by how far they had shot back, Zen would be pretty shaken up, but Orli doubted Eric and Sean would be more than narked.

"Okay, now that they've cleared the way, we should go," Orlando said before he bailed out of the hatch with Karl.

Karl activated the boot rockets on his armored suit and went whizzing towards the figure standing in the middle of the crater. The villain wasn't hard to spot -- he was wearing so much purple that it made Orlando's eyes bleed.

Festule peeped over his shoulder and said, "Purple robes with yellow stars? Tacky, yes? Ooo, nice pointed hat."

"Which looks like shite. Wanker should be thrown in jail for just wearing that thing!" Orlando snarled. He said into the radio, "I'll take high, you take low, Karl."

"Got it," Karl replied over the radio. His armored body changed course, diving in low.

Orlando swooped in while Karl was firing off his hand missiles. They had no effect, bouncing off the villain's forcefield. Orlando lobbed a spell of temporary blindness, hoping that it would take the wind out of the git's sails.

It didn't do shite, other than to alert the bloke to his presence. The white bearded man turned to him and bellowed, "You are an affront to the order of mystics, Blaise! I, the Mage Slayer, have taken it upon myself to end your miserable existence."

Orlando rolled his eyes. "Christ, what's with the fucking tacky speech and name, man? That's so sixties Batman. Have you been living in a hole or something?"

The Mage Slayer smiled, and something about his expression made Orlando go cold. It lacked bluster, displaying a sure confidence instead. Orlando was about to retreat when the villain's lips parted to whisper one single word. The next moment a white light exploded around Orlando, blasting his protective spell away and battering him into unconsciousness.

***

When Orlando returned to the land of the awake, he groaned. Every muscle of his body ached. Even the roots of his hair and his teeth hurt. He cracked an eye open and noticed that he was lying in the middle of a platform that was floating in mid-air. An open-latticed globe of energy surrounded him and the platform, and the individual bands had the most peculiar shape to them. Orlando squinted a little closer, and saw that they were actually runes scribed in the air, whirling in a set path around him.

And he was completely naked.

He realized that his clothes must have been blown off in that last volley. Damnit, he hated it when that happened. Hopefully, no one was around to snap his picture on a camera phone and plaster it all over TMZ. He still remembered when pictures of his arse had snuck onto the Net -- it had taken Karl months to create a bot that would track down every copy and wipe them out.

He was about to summon up a pair of jeans and a t-shirt when he noticed that Zen was inside the globe with him. A malicious thought popped into Orlando's head and he decided against casting the spell. Let Zen suffer a bit of embarassment.

"Where are the others?" he purred, stretching provocatively.

"Somewhere else," Zen replied. "Festule must have teleported to safety because I didn't see him near you when we returned. The Mage Killer incapacitated the rest of us quickly."

He didn't seem to have a single reaction to Orlando's unclothed state. It figured, Mr. Stoic wouldn't notice if Orlando had slathered whipped cream all over his body and then fucked himself with a huge dildo.

Giving up on taunting Zen, Orlando decided to focus on his present dilemma. He looked at the globe and said, "Shouldn't call the tosser by that stupid name, it's a bluff."

"Please elaborate?"

Orlando tapped his upper lip as he replayed the battle in his head. "That last spell he hit me with...it was a specialty job. It shredded my protection like it was paper, and that shite doesn't happen unless someone's done their homework. The monologing, the stupid outfit and melodramatic speech pattern, all to put us off and make us think he was an easy mark."

"Why are we not dead, then?" Zen asked.

"Dunno. Let me have a squint at this cage, see if I can figure out what's going on..." he scanned the runes circling around them, trying to decipher the incantation. There were several spells working in tandem, and Orlando spent a few seconds unraveling them. When he finished, his blood went cold.

"Oh, bugger!" Orlando said. "This globe is tuned to block my magic. And within ten minutes, it'll start closing in on us and we'll be disintegrated as soon as it touches our skin."

He turned and gave Zen his best puppy-dog eyes. "Please tell me that you can do something to these cunts and we can get out of here?"

Zen closed his eyes for a moment, sinking deep into concentration. A shimmer encased his body, and tendrils stretched out to touch the bands. A fat spark leapt out, and Zen quickly withdrew his probe. "I cannot affect them."

"Um, check your radio to see if the cavalry is coming? Mine kind of got vaporized."

Zen whispered into the small device for a few moments and then shook his head. "No one has responded."

"Fuck!" Orlando seethed. "I fucking hate bloody fucking death traps! Bugger it all!"

"Wait, that's the answer, Orli!" Zen replied.

Orlando blinked. He must be dreaming. Not only had it sounded like Zen had pulled the stick out of his arse, but he called him Orli. "Um, what?"

Zen actually looked excited for once. His body was no longer still and serene, it was vibrating with enthusiasm instead. "I can change the mystic signature of your spells, but I need to be in perfect harmony with all of your energies...and I can only do that if I fuck you."

Shock hit Orlando and his mouth dropped open far enough to catch several flies. Zen...the guy who talked like a sodding know-it-all and chided him for being loose, was talking about shagging.

"Orli?" Zen was waving his hand in front of Orlando's face, but he was too dumbfounded to answer. "Oh, wait...maybe this will explain things."

The other man pulled off his glove and removed a slim silver band from his thumb. His features began to shift, and the shape of his body changed. He became taller, stretching up a couple inches to meet Orlando's height. Wrinkles developed at the corners of his eyes, and his irises switched from deep brown to a piercing blue.

Orlando's brain almost went into meltdown. He knew those eyes anywhere. "V-viggo?"

His old mentor pulled his hood down and smiled. "I'm sorry for the deception, Orli. After

you left to travel to other dimensions, I thought you'd never want to speak to me again. When I heard you joined the Crusaders, I assumed this identity so that I could join the group and keep an eye on you. Sean was the only one who knew who I really was, and I swore him to secrecy."

Orlando winced. His last words to Viggo had not been the best. They had a heated argument, which resulted in them terminating their close friendship and parting on bad terms.

"You disappeared off the face of the sodding planet, old man! And you were a mage the last time I saw you! What in fuck happened?"

Viggo brushed a hand against Orlando's cheek and cupped it. "Later," he purred. "Do you know how long I've wanted this?"

Orlando shivered at the touch. "You and your sodding principles...I wanted to jump your bones as soon as you were assigned as my teacher."

The shiver turned into a full tremble when Viggo drew Orlando's face closer, stopping when his lips barely brushed across Orlando's own. "You're no longer my young, naive student," he whispered in that voice -- the one that always made Orlando want to spread himself open and beg for Viggo's hard cock.

"Prove it," Orlando replied in a soft gasp. He moaned when Viggo claimed his mouth, sucking and stroking Orlando's tongue with his own.

Heat suffused Orlando's body and he pressed himself against Viggo, whimpering when their erections came into contact with each other. He rolled his hips, moaning as the rough fabric of Viggo's costume grazed across his bare cock.

A loud crackle seized their attention. "Shite, the globe is closing." He mumbled two quick spells, and Viggo's costume disappeared.

Orlando whistled in appreciation before he sprawled onto his side on the platform. "I lubed myself. You've got about five minutes to poke me and coat my insides with spunk before we die."

Viggo rolled his eyes and settled down behind Orlando. "This is *not* how I envisioned our first time together..."

"Shut it, you cunt! We don't have time for you to buy me flowers or any of that rot! Hurry up and stick it in or we'll be knocked into pieces smaller than those grass clippings you drink every morning."

Orlando pouted and was about to let fly with another scathing insult when he felt Viggo hiking his leg up and running a callused hand along his skin. Orlando was about to protest further but Viggo interrupted him by slamming forward, impaling him in one stroke.

"Shite!" Orlando moaned, clawing at the ground.

Viggo licked his ear and rasped. "You cock whore...ready to spread your pretty legs for everyone. You don't care, do you, slut?"

He shifted his angle and jabbed Orlando in the prostate to emphasize his point.

"No!" Orlando moaned, arching against Viggo. He felt a tingle spreading through his body, warming his skin. He looked down and saw the shimmering field created by Viggo's powers encasing the two of them.

Viggo jabbed him again, and Orlando felt the shock throughout every inch of him. His body was thrumming out of control. He felt himself melting against Viggo, mewling as every touch, every jolt that rocked his body was magnified tenfold.

"Start the spell," Viggo murmured against his ear, licking it before another wave of pure pleasure electrified Orlando down to his core.

"Uhhh...oh, God, can't think...ahh, fuck!" Orlando cried out as Viggo added two fingers alongside his cock and began to pump them in sync with his pistoning.

The globe was drawing closer, and the smell of ozone filled the air. The runes started pulsing, shifting over to a fuchsia colour. The baroque symbols touched the edges of the platform and it began to crumble away.

Orlando tried to focus, but he could barely remember his name right now, much less where he was. All he could think about was the fullness sinking over and over into his arse, causing the inferno inside of his body to blaze out of control...

" Orlando, do it!" Viggo barked out. "You're a hero, act like one!"

Viggo's harsh command brought Orlando back. Gasping, he began mouthing the words, his voice shaking as he wove the incantation. A nimbus of sapphire lightning crackled around his hand, and as Viggo pounded harder into him, the shimmering field seeped in, infusing it and shifting the lightning to a bright yellow.

The fine hairs on Orlando's arms stood up, and he could feel the air becoming heavier. The globe was only a foot away, the runes now blazing an angry red.

Orlando moaned, he felt as if he was going to combust any second. That divine thrusting continued, building the pressure inside of him until every inch of him was quaking hard, screaming for release.

"Viggo," he moaned, only to choke on his next words as he was speared again by Viggo's cock and fingers.

"Just a little longer," Viggo said in a shaky voice before he hit Orlando's prostate again.

"Vig!" Orlando gasped. The runes were almost touching Viggo's hair.

"NOW!" Viggo shouted before he contorted his body around and swallowed Orlando's cock in one go.

Orlando shrieked and let his spell fly, wailing as he exploded down Viggo's throat. He felt his conscious mind shattering into a million pieces, the surrounding blackness suddenly flaring into a bright blaze of light before the world fell away. As he slumped down, his fading vision saw the death trap flying to pieces, the debris raining down on them harmlessly while Viggo roared out Orlando's name and shuddered against him. The last thing Orlando felt before he lost consciousness was the heat flooding him inside.

***

The first thing that Orlando was aware of was the bright light stabbing down. "Nnnngh," he said, forcing himself to open his eyes.

A familiar scaly body was perched on his chest. "Awake, yes?"

"Festule?" Orlando noticed that his naked body was draped with a sheet. He looked around and recognized the Crusaders' sick bay. "Bugger. How long have I been out?"

"Very bad, been sleeping for a long time. No worry, have tasty treats to make me happy." Festule held up a package of bandages and smiled.

Orlando chuckled. The next moment, his eyes lit up when Viggo walked in. He had taken off his costume and was wearing his usual flannel shirt and jeans.

"Old man!" Orlando said.

He shooed Festule away, not wanting any commentary while he talked to Viggo. After the imp left with a grumble, Orlando launched himself out of the bed, glomping onto Viggo and hugging him hard.

Viggo laughed out loud and grinned from ear to ear. "It worked, Orlando. The rest of our team arrived a few minutes later to break us out, which got pretty interesting."

"Oh fuck, don't tell me..." Orlando felt his face burning.

"Yeah, I was barely conscious afterward. They found us together, with me still inside of you. Don't worry...no one was traumatized, although Eric almost turned me into paste because he thought that I was a villain."

Orlando sniggered. "He's always been overprotective. I assume Sean explained everything?"

"Yeah. Our mysterious enemy got away, though."

Orlando crinkled his nose in disgust. "I hate that." He looked at Viggo from underneath his eyelashes and purred, "But that gives me an idea. Maybe we should do a little roleplaying? Pervy villain with the helpless innocent boy wonder? I bet you could shape some really interesting energy ropes..."

Viggo drew him closer and purred. "I like that idea."

Oh yeah, and Orlando definitely had other ideas of his own. Naughty images of what he could do with a super-flexible lover cascaded through his head.

"Bedroom?" he asked.

Viggo didn't reply. Instead, he gestured and a shimmer encompassed one of the overhead lights. Seconds later a tendril of energy snaked down from the fluorescent bulb and wrapped around Orlando's wrist. "I'd rather fuck here."

Orlando face split open into a happy grin. Being a superhero definitely had great perks.

*****

THE END

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