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A Man Walks Into a Bar	By : Dhvana Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 1642 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Orlando Bloom. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Man Walks Into a Bar
- 1
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no harm intended, no profit made.

A Man Walks Into a Bar

Orlando Bloom was in the mood for a fight.

No, it was more than that.

Orlando Bloom was actively looking for a fight, spoiling for a beating, itching for a bout of mindless violence. He wanted to feel the blunt pain of knuckles being embedded into his skin. He wanted to hear the sharp smack of flesh against flesh. He wanted to taste the iron tang of blood in his mouth. He wanted to feel the sting of a cut lip. He wanted to experience the blur of diminished vision through a swollen eye.

And he wanted to know that his bloodied bruises were matched on the body and face of the guy who gave him his.

So who was going to be the lucky victim? Who was going to be the chosen one, the one who would have the fortune to share his battle scars?

The calculating brown eyes scanned the bar, looking for the perfect match.

No, too big--he wanted to live to see tomorrow.

Not big enough--it should be a fair fight, after all, or this itch would not be satisfied.

Absolutely not--too many friends. It had to be one on one, or he wouldn’t be able to walk the next day, and that wouldn’t work at all.

Whoa whoa whoa--stop right there.

Orlando licked his lips as he studied the elected specimen of manhood.

Perfect.

Or at least as close as he was going to get. So the guy had maybe three inches on him and was a little broader, a little better muscled, but who could resist? Body of a demi-god, thick sandy brown hair, hazel eyes that had a hint of wickedness to them, and a smile that added an extra flavor to the whole deal. Now here was a man who would look just as edible in jeans and a cowboy hat as he did in those leather pants and silk shirt, who would be just as comfortable flirting with a woman in a bar as he would sleeping out under the stars by a bonfire.

Like Orlando said, perfect.

And his only companion just made it all so much easier--cute, blond, pert, simpering. The cowboy would definitely be ticked off by what Orlando was about to do.

Finishing off his beer, Orlando stuffed a generous tip in the tip jar, thanked the bartender, and approached the table where the couple was sitting. Tapping on the shoulder of the cowboy, his chosen victim turned to look at him with a questioning glance. Poor man never even saw the fist coming that slammed into his cheek, knocking him out of his chair.

Orlando then turned to the blond, whose jaw had dropped with recognition, grabbed her by the shoulders, and kissed her.

“Hey!” the cowboy shouted as he jumped to his feet. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Ask her,” Orlando said, turning to look at him. “She’s the one who introduced tongue into the picture. I just kissed her.”

“You son of a bitch.”

The Brit bit back his grin as the fist landed in his stomach.

Fuck, that hurt!

And oh, how he loved it.

Taking a deep breath, he rushed forward and punched the cowboy in the kidneys. Even though the pain knocked the air out of the taller man, it didn’t prevent his fist from connecting with the underside of Orlando’s jaw.

His head snapped back and. . . ah, yes, there it was. The first taste of blood.

The adrenaline pumping through his veins, Orlando tried not to laugh with glee as flung himself at the cowboy. Their bodies locked together in the struggle for dominance as each man tried to gain the upper hand, to find the advantage that would knock the other to the ground for good.

Time and time again, they threw themselves at each other with the passion of men whose hearts were pounding with excitement, their red-veiled eyes seeing before them only the desire to pound the living shit out of their enemy. Skin was tenderized, flesh was split, bruises began to swell and turn unnatural colors--god, it was beautiful.

Hands swung and fists knocked the opponents apart, flinging both men backwards onto the concrete, their bodies landing with a slap that made everyone around them flinch in sympathy.

Spitting blood onto the floor, Orlando moved to dive once more at his opponent when hands with palms wider than his head grabbed onto his arms, pulling him away.

Looking around, he saw that a couple of the bouncers had hold of him and that the cowboy was being similarly detained. His evening of fun had come to an end.

The two men were taken through the club to the back and thrown into the alley, the door slamming closed behind them.

Chuckling, Orlando leaned against the cold bricks of the alley wall and wiped the blood from his nose. The cowboy’s head turned, eyes wide with disbelief.

“You’re a fucking lunatic.”

“Probably,” Orlando shrugged, “but doesn’t it feel incredible?”

“What?” he snapped, the hazel eyes filled with confusion.

“Really, thank you,” he said as he pushed himself to his feet, groaning at the twinge in his ribs. “You were brilliant. Just what I needed.”

The cowboy slowly stood up, keeping a respectable distance between himself and the Brit. “You mean you did this on purpose?”

Orlando slowly nodded. “That I did.”

“But. . . why? Why me?”

He shrugged. “You were perfect.”

“Fucking psycho,” the cowboy said, shaking his head as he limped towards the street.

“Hey, wait,” Orlando said, hurrying after him with as much speed as his battered body would allow. “Look, can I buy you a drink to make up for it?”

The cowboy whirled around, his expression one of pure bewilderment. “You want to buy me a drink?”

“Isn’t that what guys do after a fight? They down a couple of cold ones, drown their sorrows, black out the memory of how many times they got hit while multiplying how many punches they did get in?”

“I don’t know. I don’t get into that many fights.”

“Well, in my limited experience, this is what happens. So come on, I’ll provide the alcohol and an abundance of apologies for not taking off my rings first.”

The cowboy’s face darkened as he glanced at Orlando’s hands. “The next time you decide to start a random fight, removing the rings would definitely be the decent thing to do.”

“Because the first thing a man who starts a random fight thinks of is what’s the decent thing to do,” Orlando said, flashing him a grin, and the cowboy nodded, biting back a chuckle.

“Good point.” He looked towards the club, then back at the bizarre man with the oddly compelling smile who’d attacked him. “Well, I suppose my date’s left, or she did if she had any sense. And you’re buying?”

“Every round until we’re seeing triple.”

“All right. But I’m warning you, if I see a single fist—”

“That itch has been scratched,” Orlando laughed, leading them out of the alley. Now he had a new itch that was demanding attention and he was dying to see if the cowboy’s hands had uses other than pummeling him into the ground. He handed his ticket to the valet and his companion shot him a strange look.

“We going somewhere?”

“You think we’re going to be welcome back in there?” Orlando countered, arching an eyebrow, and the cowboy nodded.

“Another good point.”

“Where I’ve got in mind, they won’t bother to ask any questions, and I’m thinking that would be a plus in our condition.”

“A huge plus,” the tall man said, allowing himself to chuckle and enjoy the Brit’s odd humor.

At the mirthful sound, Orlando felt a hint of guilt. The guy was clearly good-natured when he wasn’t being needlessly attacked. Perhaps next time he should find someone a bit surlier.

Slowly sliding into the driver’s seat of his Jeep, Orlando hissed at the pain pulsing through his body. Fuck this. Next time, he’d find something that couldn’t fight back. Like a punching bag. Or if he was really desperate, he could throw himself down a flight of stairs, but not this, not again.

And a bar was definitely out of the question, he thought, swearing as the Jeep hit a pothole. There was no way he was going to be able to sit his sore tailbone on a stool for hours, but then, he hadn’t really planned on taking the cowboy to a bar anyway.

Pulling into the circular hotel drive, he slid out of the seat and handed his keys to the waiting valet.

“Coming?” he asked the man who was still sitting in the Jeep.

Clearly reluctant, the cowboy stepped out onto the sidewalk, casting a glance behind him as the vehicle was driven away. Biting his lip, he took a deep breath and followed Orlando inside, just as the Brit knew he would.

“Orlando!” The perky little concierge stepped out from behind her desk and ran towards him. “What happened?”

“Julie, it’s all right,” Orlando smiled, planting a kiss on each rosy cheek. “I’m fine. Just make sure a couple of buckets of ice find their way to my room, and could you see to it that a case of beer makes it up there as well?”

“Of course. Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked, sending daggers towards the man standing behind him, assuming he’d had a hand in disfiguring her favorite client. “Do you want me to send for the doctor?”

“For a couple of bruises?” he grinned. “Don’t waste his time. Ice and beer--that's all we need.”

“I’ll have them sent up immediately.”

Orlando led them to the elevator, stuck in his keycard, and pressed a button for the penthouse.

The cowboy arched an eyebrow. “Just who the hell are you?”

“You know, you’re right,” Orlando grinned, holding out his hand. “We haven’t been properly introduced. Orlando Bloom. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Josh Duhamel,” the cowboy said, shaking his hand. “Believe me when I say the pleasure’s all yours.”

“Let’s see if I can’t change that,” he winked as a bell rang letting them know they’d reached his floor. The Brit walked inside and began stripping off his jacket and bloodied shirt as he headed towards the bathroom, leaving only his undershirt and jeans. “Make yourself at home.”

Digging through the small bag where he kept his toiletries, Orlando pulled out a box of band-aids and tube of antibiotic ointment. He returned to the living room just as there was a knock at the door and held up his hand as the figure on the sofa moved to rise.

“I’ve got it.” Opening the door, he stood back to allow the cart entrance, tipped the man generously as he always did, and wished him a good night. Placing the ointment and band-aids on the cart, he picked up a bottle and looked towards Josh. “Thirsty?”

“Absolutely,” the cowboy answered, catching the bottle Orlando tossed to him. Twisting off the top, he drank deeply while he watched the Brit wrap up a couple handfuls of ice in a couple of towels, hazel eyes following every movement as Orlando walked over and sat down next to him.

“Ice?”

Josh just grunted his assent as Orlando handed him the towel and immediately wrapped it around his hand with the bloodied knuckles.

“We should really get that cleaned up,” Orlando said, taking a drink from his own bottle.

“I’ll live,” he shrugged.

“You might, but I may not,” the Brit said as he pressed the ice to his quickly forming black eye, and the cowboy chuckled.

“You will. You’re tougher than you look.”

Orlando glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Are you trying to make me feel better because those fists of yours fucking hurt?”

“Now why would I try to make you feel better? You started it.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” he grinned. “I suppose I should be making you feel better.”

“Yeah, you should. Beginning with a second beer.”

“Now that I can do,” Orlando said, pushing himself into a standing position, then groaned as he shuffled over to the cart. “Maybe.”

Josh started to laugh as Orlando, back hunched, body stiff, slowly made his way back to the sofa. “You look like an old woman.”

“Let me see you try,” he growled, and Josh just shook his head.

“Not on your life. Fuck,” he sighed, “I can’t remember the last time I was this sore.”

“Neither can I,” Orlando said, handing him another beer, but eyeing the spot next to him on the sofa, shook his head. “If I sit down, I will never be able to get back up.” Glancing towards the back of his suite, his eyes lit up. “I have an idea.”

Josh’s hazel eyes followed him with open curiosity as the Brit reached a square structure near the windows. Orlando looked at him and grinned as he hit a button and the room was filled with a roar as jets of heated air rushed through water.

The hazel eyes grew wide. “You’ve got a Jacuzzi?”

“I’ve got a Jacuzzi,” he nodded.

“Man, that’s perfect! I feel better just thinking about it.”

“Then wheel the beer over here within reach and jump in.”

Josh slowly eased himself up from the cushions, grabbed hold of the cart, and turned around just in time to see Orlando’s naked body gradually edging into the water.

The cowboy froze as swathes of olive skin clouded his vision, his flight or fuck instinct warring for control, one telling him to run for the elevator, the other telling him here was an opportunity not to be missed.

But if he left, where would he go? The adrenaline had faded from his body to leave exhaustion weighing down his limbs, making the long trip home highly unappealing. Here was free beer, odd but engaging companionship, and a man who, quite frankly, looked as if he’d been booted out of Heaven, and from the seductive gleam in those shining brown eyes, it wasn’t hard to guess why.

Not that Josh had been trying to guess.

Okay, so the guy was European, right? Maybe he wasn’t trying to seduce him. Maybe he just didn’t know that men don’t bathe naked together here in the U.S. His ignorance was no reason for Josh to just abandon him. And what the hell--Orlando looked so fucking relaxed leaning against the back of the tub that it made Josh’s stomach twist with envy. He wanted to feel that relaxed and his body was screaming at him to just jump into the hot water already.

Stripping down to his boxer-briefs, he paused. He could just slide into the water like that and not have to worry about being naked in the Jacuzzi with another man while giving the appearance that he had something to hide, or he could just say fuck it, strip the boxers off, and jump on in.

He decided on fuck it.

Removing his last piece of protective clothing, he stepped into the Jacuzzi, moaning aloud as the massaging jets soothed his tender body.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Orlando asked through slitted lids, and Josh sighed, a blissful smile on his face as he sank beneath the surface, not caring that Orlando’s eyes had been on him the entire time.

“I don’t think I’m ever leaving.”

“I should have brought the phone over, just in case we need to send for supplies.”

Josh glanced at the beer on the cart and did a quick mental tally. “I think we’re good until tomorrow and we can ask housekeeping for more booze and food when they come by.”

“I knew I invited you up here for a reason,” Orlando said, giving him an approving nod. “You can be the brains in this operation.”

“Since brains are something you’re clearly missing,” Josh winked, grabbing a fresh beer from the cart for each of them. “What’s with you, anyway? Why’d you attack me?”

“It was just that kind of day,” he shrugged, and Josh shook his head.

“I’m going to need more than that.”

“All right. Since the moment I woke up, I’ve had people riding my arse, yelling at me for this, yelling at me for that--friends, family, employers, employees, it was like the world decided today was ‘Let’s Make Orlando Feel Like He’s the Size of a Bug’ Day.”

“And you wanted to prove that you’re not the size of a bug.”

“No. They were all just too far away for me to hit, so I had to find someone closer.”

“Thanks so much for picking me,” he said dryly.

Orlando laughed. “Like I said, you were perfect. Not too big, not too small, no friends to hold me down, and I liked your smile.”

“Wait a minute,” Josh said, eyes narrowing. “You liked my smile, and you still decided I was the one you wanted to start a fight with? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Who knows?” he shrugged, taking a swig from his bottle. “Maybe I somehow thought your smile meant you’d go easier on me.”

“Didn’t think that one out too well, did you?” the cowboy smirked, finishing off his beer.

“Guess not,” he chuckled, “but the aftermath is going better than I’d planned.”

“How so?”

“Well, we’re sitting here getting pissed instead of lying in a hospital waiting to get stitches or to get a broken bone set.”

“You’ve really got to start coming up with better plans,” he said, shaking his head.

“Like I said, you’re the brains in the operation.”

“So what are you? Certainly not the brawn.”

“Comic relief?” Orlando shrugged.

“I don’t know,” Josh said, his voice reluctant. “So far, you’re not all that funny. Warped, maybe, but I don’t think that’s the same thing.”

“So why don’t you tell me what I am?”

“Well, we’ve already ruled out brains and brawn, so what’s left?”

“Scrappy sidekick? But I attacked you, so that doesn’t make much sense. I guess all that leaves is my pretty face.”

“Oh yeah, you’d make the perfect femme fatale, if it wasn’t for the black eye and the split lip and the fact that you’re not a woman.”

“Does kind of put a kink in the plan, doesn’t it?” Orlando grinned, but then his eyes lit up and twinkled with mischief. “On the other hand, that would definitely add kink to the plan. Except for one thing--I may be bi, but I don’t bottom for just anyone.”

Josh nearly spat his beer out. Swallowing quickly, he gazed at his companion with new eyes. “I’m sorry, did you just say. . . ?”

“What, you don’t think I look like a top?”

“How the fuck would I know?”

“Oh, come on, Josh,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You can’t tell me you’ve never--can you?”

“Maybe not never—”

“Well, then, why so shocked?”

“I don’t know,” he said, sinking deeper into the water.

“Afraid that I’ll hit on you?” Orlando asked, then gave him a sly smile. “Or now you know, afraid that I won’t?”

“I’d prefer that you didn’t,” Josh said, his face beginning to take on the frantic air of a wild animal.

Setting his bottle on the Jacuzzi’s wall, Orlando glided through the water towards him, his smile turning predatory. “Are you sure about that?”

Swallowing hard, Josh began to quickly assess his escape options, but he wasn’t quick enough. Orlando pounced, trapping the cowboy between the Jacuzzi and his lips, using his most effective skills from his vast bag of tricks to make Josh feel as if he was being devoured alive.

Which, in effect, he was.

Orlando tasted every inch of the other man’s mouth, his tongue delving into places Josh didn’t even know could be delved. Never had he been the subject of such an intrusive kiss, and when he tried to scramble away, he quickly discovered there was nowhere for him to go.

He grabbed Orlando’s arms to push him away, but found by some fluke that he actually ended up drawing the young man towards him as he tried to gain the upper hand in the kiss.

Orlando straddled the cowboy, amused to find that the hands which had caused him so much damage before were now bringing their bodies closer. His chest pressing against Josh’s, his cock became aligned with a matching hardness. Skin rubbing together, the two moaned at the pleasing friction.

“Josh,” Orlando began, but was stopped as the strong arms slid around his waist, holding him fast.

“Don’t stop,” he said with a hungry growl, and the Brit complied. His mouth meeting the cowboy’s once more, he slid his hand down the well-defined chest to the shafts standing tall between them. Taking hold of their cocks, he began to stroke them together, the skin swelling, growing harder in his hand. Pearly liquid began to seep from the tips only to be carried away by the swirling water. Both their bodies began to shiver as the pressure started to build.

“Faster,” Josh said, his voice breathless as his mouth traveled over Orlando’s chin and down his neck, his hands caressing the smooth back, fingers gracing over the scar along his spine.

“Are you sure?” Orlando asked though his hand quickened its pace. “You want it to end so soon?”

“You only up for one round?” he teased, nipping at Orlando’s shoulder.

“You going to stay for another?”

The cowboy was quiet as he considered the question, the only sounds in the room being the rush of the jets and the harsh panting of their breath. Orlando pulled back just far enough to meet the hazel eyes, his gaze serious and haunting, one that would remain with Josh long after this night, sneaking into his dreams when he least expected it.

“Stay long enough to fuck me.”

Staring into those words, there was nothing Josh could do to stop himself from coming. He clung to Orlando as the orgasm thrashed his body from the inside out. So lost was he in the resulting ecstasy, he missed the shaking of the man in his arms as Orlando reached his own orgasm. A few minutes later he realized he was holding the Brit in his arms, Orlando’s head resting softly on his shoulder. He reached up and buried a hand in the damp curls.

“Is this the way you always get back at the guys who sleep with your girlfriend?”

Orlando stiffened slightly, surprised by Josh’s directness, by the introduction of the very topic of which he’d thought Josh remained ignorant. “Ex-girlfriend,” he corrected, his voice cold, but gradually growing warmer, “and no. I’d only planned on the fight. This was. . . unexpected. Not unwanted, but definitely unexpected.”

“So why this? Why not just end it with the fight?”

“Because I liked you.”

“Huh. She said you would, you know. She was always saying that if we met, she was sure we’d like each other. I don’t know whether she was trying to make herself feel better or worse.”

Orlando lifted his head and smoothed the hair from Josh’s face. “Do we really have to talk about her?”

“Just wanted to clear the air, make sure there was nothing between us.”

“And what have you decided? Is there nothing between us?”

“Oh, there is,” Josh said, nuzzling his lips against Orlando’s cheek, his nose, his chin. “Not was I was expecting, either,” he reached down to cup the Brit’s buttocks, grinding their hips together, “but definitely something I want.”

“So does this mean you’ll be staying long enough to fuck me?”

“You can bet on it,” he grinned and Orlando captured his grin with his mouth, tracing over it with his tongue.

“I first knew I’d like you because of your smile,” he said softly, and then his voice roughened with the need to possess. “Your smile is mine now.”

“It isn’t much,” Josh shrugged, “but if you want it, go for it.”

“I think I will.”

Wrapping his arms around the cowboy’s neck, Orlando kissed him. He continued kissing him as he stood up, leaning over the man until he was forced to break away. Josh whimpered at the loss of contact and Orlando smiled while stepping out of the tub.

“Come away,” he said, holding out his hand, and Josh took it, allowing Orlando to lead him from the Jacuzzi towards the bedroom. As they passed the cart, Orlando grabbed the tube of antibiotic ointment, shrugging in response to the taller man’s questioning glance. “Like I said, this was unexpected and I am somewhat unprepared.”

“But inventive. You could be the MacGuyver of the operation.”

Orlando just chuckled and tugged on his hand, hurrying him to the bed.

The air-conditioned room quickly cooled their heated bodies and bruised muscles began aching as the chill set in. They scurried under the blankets, exchanging kisses and caresses, their bodies humming with afterglow and a building desire.

“How often have you done this?” Orlando asked, twisting off the lid of the tube.

“It’s been a few years.”

“Then let me help you.”

Orlando took Josh’s hand in his and closed all the fingers except two. He squeezed a line of ointment on each finger and, keeping his eyes locked onto Josh’s, lowered the hand between his legs.

“First finger,” he said, placing the tip at his puckered entrance. He guided the finger inside of him, his hand on Josh’s wrist to control the speed with which he moved the finger in and out.

The hazel eyes grew wide with wonder as he felt Orlando’s tight body encompass him. “I’d forgotten,” he whispered as he slid past velvet skin and unyielding muscle, noting the combination of discomfort and pleasure on the other’s face.

“The second finger is yours,” Orlando said, releasing Josh’s wrist, wanting to devote all his concentration the sensations inside of him.

The cowboy nodded and eased in the second finger, slowly massaging the heated passage until Orlando’s burning gaze caught his attention. Alarmed, he immediately started to pull out, but Orlando grabbed onto his arm, pushing him deeper.

“Remove that hand only if you plan on replacing it with something else,” he commanded, his voice was splintered with need.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Yes.” Squeezing the ointment onto his own hand, Orlando reached and spread it carelessly over Josh’s cock, the other man shuddering at his touch. “Hurry.”

“I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem,” Josh said, but continued to be careful as entered the younger man, not wanting to hurt him, but also wanting to relish the feel of him. He knew it would be a long time before this happened again, and he wanted every touch imprinted on his memory.

Inch by inch, he pushed himself inside Orlando, the Brit alternately squirming with impatience and moaning with pleasure while his hands twisted in the sheets as he adjusted to the cowboy. Josh hadn’t seemed that large when he was holding him earlier, but Orlando couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt this full.

Once completely sheathed by the trembling muscles, Josh couldn’t hide the awe he was feeling. He didn’t know whether it was Orlando, or if it had always been like this, but he wanted to shout out to the world just how incredible it felt. And he told Orlando so.

“Shout away,” the Brit said, placing his hands on either side of Josh’s face and drawing him down for a fierce kiss. “But if you don’t start fucking me soon, I’m the one who’s going to be screaming, and not in a good way.”

“Right, sorry,” he grinned.

“Don’t be sorry, just move.”

Josh answered him with a kiss as he pulled out and thrust in again, catching Orlando’s gasping approval with his lips. Olive limbs wrapped around his waist as the Brit urged him deeper and he was surprised to find just how deep he could go. He was even more surprised when Orlando screamed--in a good way--after one particularly vicious thrust.

“Oh, god, more!” he shouted, brown eyes rolling back in his head.

The cowboy obliged, thrusting in hard and hitting the spot that made Orlando scream and cry and moan until he didn’t have any voice left. By then, Josh’s cries had become mingled with his own and with one final shout, his body pulsed with orgasm and the cowboy came hard, spilling himself into Orlando.

He pushed a few more times inside the welcoming body, riding out the waves of pleasure until he had nothing left to give. It was only while pulling out of the shivering form that he realized Orlando’s needy whimpers hadn’t subsided. Recognizing the cause of his continued suffering, Josh leaned up on one arm to watch while wrapping his hand around the still hard cock.

Orlando’s tongue-moistened lips parted with a pitiable moan as the fingers stroked his aching flesh. His eyelids fluttered relentlessly, his skin flushed and shining with passion as his body arched up into the cowboy’s grasp. With a final gasp from the lush mouth, Orlando’s cock twitched violently in his hand as he came, liquid heat covering over his skin.

Staring at the man lost in a haze of ecstasy, Josh thought for the first time that night how he had never seen anyone so beautiful.

He was kissing Orlando before the Brit even had time to recover, just wanting to taste the joy of his climax before it was gone. Orlando mewled softly as Josh’s tongue seduced his mouth, handing over control and allowing him unrepentant access to whatever he wanted, though not knowing what Orlando was granting him, the cowboy was satisfied with just his mouth.

Drawing away slowly, pulling lightly on the lip his knuckles had split earlier that evening, Josh gradually ended the kiss. He smiled at Orlando, gently running his fingers over the bruised cheek.

“I can’t believe all this began with a fight.”

“Everything begins with a fight,” Orlando said, lifting Josh’s fingertips to his lips. “We were just more obvious about it than most.”

“So if everything begins with a fight,” he said, eyes mesmerized by the movement of the soft lips, “how does it all end?”

“As everything ends--abruptly.”

“Is that how this is going to end?”

Brown eyes focused on hazel and Orlando smiled. “Yes, since that’s the way everything ends. We’ll wake up tomorrow, you’ll leave, I’ll leave, and then. . .”

“And then what?”

He shrugged. “What else is there?”

“I can think of something.” Avoiding the piercing gaze, Josh reached up and brushed a stray curl from his forehead. “Tomorrow night, I’ll be in this little place I know, relaxing after a hard day with a beer or two, and while I’m there, a man will walk into the bar.”

Orlando chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like the beginning to a bad joke.”

“Yeah, it does, but at least it’s not an ending. I’m not saying I want anything permanent, just, you know, whenever you’re in town, and I’m in town, we maybe get together, have a few drinks, and let whatever happens, happen.”

Bringing Josh’s gaze back down to meet his own, Orlando smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, reaching for a kiss.

Their lips parted and Orlando rolled onto his side, snuggling with his back to Josh’s chest and pulling a tanned arm around him. Josh rested his cheek against the dark curls and wrapped a leg around Orlando’s, needing to feel as much of that olive skin against his as he could as he drifted off to sleep.

It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago, the cowboy had wanted nothing more than to beat the man in his arms into a bloody pulp. Perhaps if Josh could have seen the smugly triumphant smile on Orlando’s face, he would have had second thoughts about wanting to stay.

But knowing Josh couldn’t see him, Orlando’s triumphant smile remained unchecked and stayed there from the time he fell asleep until the time he awoke the next morning still wrapped around the cowboy.

It may have begun with a fight, but it wouldn’t end until Orlando was ready for it to end. It wouldn’t end with this man, or the next one, or the next. It wouldn’t end until he had them all, and she was left with none. Only then would it end, and it would be through his wishes, as it should have been, and abrupt, as it was meant to be.

[Completed 1/14/2004]
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A Man Walks Into a Bar