vigorli

Title: Purity of Intention (10/?)
Author:

arieltachna
Type: RPS / FPS crossover
Pairing: Diego / Orlando
Rating: NC-17
Warning: none
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, created for entertainment and enjoyment only. With all due respect, we do not own these characters, either the actors or those created by Arturo Pérez-Reverte. We just think it’s a fascinating world.
Feedback: would be wonderful
Beta:

sileya
Summary: A cynical swordsman is hired to return a runaway – or so it appears
A/N: thanks to

akashaelfwitch for help with translation
A/N2: thanks to

tularia for the beautiful banner

~~~~~

Diego could have cursed Íñigo's untimely return, but in his heart he knew it was best they had been interrupted before he let things go too far. Pushing to his feet, he recovered his shirt and strode toward the common room, pulling it over his head. Íñigo was dropping an armload of provisions on the battered table and chattering about what he had purchased, too caught up in the luxuries they were so rarely able to afford to notice anything amiss between the two older men.

"Look, Capitán, they had oranges! I bought six, enough for each of us to have two. And I bought drinking chocolate. And lamb! Fresh from the farm it is, the shopkeeper said, and it looks so much more tender than cabrito, I though perhaps we could ask Caridad to roast it... and sweetmeats! Three different kinds, I couldn't decide between them so I bought some of each!"

"I see you took advantage of my purse," Orlando commented from the doorway, his smile teasing Diego gently.

Íñigo had been watching his guardian's face as he pulled out each purchase, and at Orlando's words his expression fell. "I hope I did not spend too much?" he said uneasily, his gaze flickering to the Englishman. "I thought they were things that would make the Capitán feel better..." he trailed off, his innate honesty forcing him to admit he was looking forward to the treats as well.

"Not at all," Orlando replied smoothly, walking to Íñigo's side and bending his head close to the lad's. "But if the Capitán disagrees, we'll just keep his share for ourselves. How does that sound?"

"I agreed to accept such help as you can offer," Diego countered, meeting Orlando's gaze with a wry smile. "And if you think you can keep my share of that drinking chocolate, I may need to test your prowess with a sword."

"The Capitán has a sweet tooth," Íñigo told Orlando with the air of one disclosing a grave secret. "I knew he would like the chocolate best of all."

"Then perhaps I should give him my share as well," Orlando suggested to Íñigo. "I would rather not have him challenge me to a fight over chocolate."

"One day we will measure our lengths against one another," Diego answered, his lips twitching when he saw the flush that rose in Orlando's cheeks at the suggestive phrase. He would not normally tease with anyone but Roux in such a manner, but seeing the happiness the nobleman's generosity had brought Íñigo loosened some of the restraint he kept on his emotions. Would it be so terrible to let Orlando see beneath the mask he habitually wore, just this once? Íñigo's presence would assure they did not go beyond teasing words. "But not this day – we will share the chocolate evenly, as soon as we get hot water from Caridad to brew it."

Orlando could not stop the flush from staining his cheeks, but a smile followed immediately at being invited to bandy words the way he had seen Diego do with Roux. He moved closer to where Diego stood, pitching his voice so only the older man would hear. "I look forward to it," he replied suggestively. Before the situation could progress beyond words, he turned back to Íñigo. "Shall we try one of those oranges?"

Íñigo could not remember ever seeing his guardian's rare smile as often as he did that morning. The lamb was sent to the kitchen to be roasted on the inn's broad hearth; hot water was procured to brew a pot of dark, sweet chocolate; the oranges were peeled and every fragrant, juicy section devoured amid much teasing and laughter. The young man could not help but be grateful to the Englishman for providing the means for such a delicious repast. If only Roux had been present, the morning would have been nearly perfect.

Leaning back in his chair as he drained his second cup of chocolate, Diego watched Orlando pop a wedge of orange between his lips. A surge of desire flashed through him as the strong white teeth bit the slice in two, releasing the sweet juices. Orlando's tongue flicked out to capture the flavourful droplets, and Diego remembered the honeyed taste of that tongue in his mouth when they had kissed earlier that morning. He shifted against the hard wooden seat, reaching for a sweetmeat in place of the treat he would really like to claim.

The shared laughter did much to dispel the unsated desire that tormented Orlando, but the sight of various delicacies slipping between Diego's lips reminded him all too often of what had been interrupted. He was not about to order Íñigo out of his own home so he and Alatriste could pick up where they left off, not the least because he knew his lover would never accept such a suggestion, but he could not help but hope that Íñigo would have another errand to run or some other reason to leave again. It was only noon. Orlando knew he would never make it until nightfall.

Hearing the church bell toll across the square, Diego glanced up at Íñigo. "You will be late for your lesson with Dómine Pérez, whelp," he observed, grateful that he would not need to make up some reason to get Íñigo out of their rooms. The hunger that gnawed at him had not been sated by the luxuries they had indulged in – nothing but another taste of Orlando would slake it, and he feared even that would not be enough to satisfy him.

Íñigo jumped up from the table, face coloring at the thought of being late. He grabbed his cloak and rushed out of the room, not wanting to suffer a penance for his tardiness. "Gracias," he called as the door slammed shut behind him.

"'Tis not everyday I see a lad so eager for religious instruction," Orlando commented with an arched eyebrow, his mind racing as he wondered how long he and Diego would have alone while the youth was at his lessons.

"The Dómine has little patience with tardiness," Diego answered, his mind already dismissing Íñigo as he wondered how he was going to withstand the temptation to pull Orlando back into the bedroom and resume where they had broken off.

"And how long does the Dómine usually keep Íñigo?" Orlando inquired with deceptive casualness. He did not want to be interrupted as rudely as they had been before.

"Until mid-afternoon prayers," Diego replied with equal composure.

Orlando's grin turned rakish. "Then we have several hours alone." He rose from his seat and prowled toward his lover. "I believe we have unfinished business." Not giving Diego a chance to protest or pull away, he closed his lips over the other man's, tasting the chocolate and sweetmeats.

He could think of any number of reasons why they shouldn't continue, but none of them could stand against Diego's need to taste Orlando again. He pulled the younger man down to his chair, one arm molded to his back, the other tangling in the dark curls to hold his head steady as his tongue plundered deep into Orlando's mouth, the sweetness of the oranges and the spicy tang of the sweetmeats flavouring the kiss.

The sensation of Diego welcoming him, opening to him, went straight to Orlando's head. His lips parted eagerly to allow his lover entrance, giving Diego free access to his mouth. Careful of the wound even in his passion, his arms encircled the Spaniard's shoulder to offer the older man free access to his body as well.

Orlando’s encouragement started a coil of heat tightening in Diego's gut. Each time he kissed the younger man it became harder to resist, harder to remember why he should not simply take what he wanted so desperately – what Orlando was offering so freely. He moved both hands to cradle Orlando's face, turning it to allow him to delve even deeper into the kiss, his sword-calloused fingers stroking the smooth cheeks and tracing the curve of ears beneath the tousle of curls that escaped the younger man's queue.

Excited beyond words by Diego's positive responses, Orlando dropped his hands to his lover's shirt, pulling eagerly at the laces. He had touched the swordsman's strong chest the night before under the pretense of massaging his wounded arm, but that had only whetted his appetite. He wanted more, wanted to see and taste as well as feel. Parting the linen, he let his hands wander freely, hoping Diego would take his actions as an invitation to reciprocate.

The touch of Orlando's fingers sliding beneath the panels of his shirt to explore his chest made Diego's groin tighten with desire. His conscience began to whisper a warning, but he ignored it, leaning back in the chair without breaking the kiss to allow the younger man's hands greater access. Just a little longer, he told himself, his breath catching as the tantalizing fingers splayed across his skin. They were only kisses, only touches – he would stop soon. Soon... just a little longer... another kiss...

Diego's new posture was a temptation Orlando could not resist, especially not when his roving hands brushed the tip of his lover's erect cock. Passion spinning out of control, he lowered himself onto Alatriste's lap, straddling him, their groins rubbing together provocatively. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing across Diego's cheek so he could whisper, "I cannot wait to feel you inside me. I have wanted you since I first saw you."

The provocative words and the fierce surge of lust that flared when Orlando rubbed against him snapped Diego from the sensual haze he had allowed himself to drift in ever since Íñigo's departure. Grasping the younger man's shoulders, he pushed him backward, the move dragging their cocks against each other as he tried to put some distance between them. "We go too far," he muttered thickly, rubbing his hand across his lips as though he could wipe away the enticement of Orlando's kiss.

Orlando jerked back, the words stinging him hard. He had hoped, believed, that the kiss in the bedroom earlier and the kiss now were signs that Diego had moved beyond his resistance, but it seemed he was wrong. Hurt evident in every line of his body, he pulled back and turned away, unwilling to let the other man see him like this. "I thought you were different from everyone else," he said slowly, trying to keep his voice from trembling as he spoke. "You said you didn't see me as a child, and I believed you. I thought I'd finally found someone who would see me for myself, who would care for me – the real me – instead of the pampered aristocrat everyone thinks I am. I would have done anything for you, you know, would have stayed here without a second thought, if only you had been that man. But you're not." He turned back to face Diego, accusation written all over his face. "You're just like everyone else, determined to push me away for my own protection. Fine. If that's what you want, I'll leave. I'll go back to England and prove you all wrong in the end."

The last thing Diego wanted was for Orlando to leave, especially with the danger that still threatened, but he knew trying to convince Orlando of that would only anger him further. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to find the words to explain why they had to stop, when something Orlando had said finally registered. "You would stay?" he asked slowly, confirming what he hoped he had heard was true.

"I would have," Orlando agreed, his voice heavy with regret as he thought of all that might have been, all he had hoped would be, "but it doesn't matter now. I should be used to it, you know, being sent away. My father sent me here rather than let me take part in the negotiations. Eric sent me away rather than letting me stand by him in a fight. I don't know why I thought this would be any different." He started toward the bedroom, shoulders bent in defeat, to gather his things and leave.

"Orlando," Diego rasped, his voice husky with remorse and desire. He rose to his feet, his heart pounding beneath the open panels of his shirt. As the younger man turned, he swallowed and met his eyes, the umber depths shimmering behind their long lashes. The thought that he had caused the hurt and doubt that filled that gaze cut him like a sword stroke. "Stay."

"Do you mean that?" Orlando asked, incredibly tempted by the outstretched hand and the words he wanted to hear. "I don't want to be another responsibility, another ward, albeit older. If I stay, it will be as equals." He paused and took a deep breath, putting his heart on the line. "As lovers. If that's not what you want, tell me now so I can go while I still have some dignity and self-respect left."

The swordsman raised his other arm, holding them open, his pale gaze burning with intensity as he willed Orlando to return to him. "Amantes," he promised, knowing the decision had to be Orlando's. "I won't push you away again."

Orlando searched Diego's face for a moment, then flew into the outstretched arms, face tilting up to invite the kiss that would seal their promise.

Diego's arms closed around Orlando, molding their bodies together as his head lowered to take the younger man's lips in a slow, deep claiming. As fiercely as the promise of making Orlando his lover aroused him, his lips were tender, his fingers gentle as they pulled the queue loose from Orlando's hair and threaded into the silky locks. There would be time for passion, but this kiss was an apology and a pledge. His tongue stroked against Orlando's in an age-old dance, made new by emotions Diego was not yet ready to name, even to himself. He broke the kiss softly, his lips quirking into a smile. "You still taste of oranges," he murmured, returning again and again to claim short, moist kisses from his lover's sweet lips.

Orlando chuckled between kisses, the tenderness in Diego's gestures making him feel cherished as nothing else ever had. "And you taste of chocolate," he observed, chasing the flavor into the recesses of his lover's mouth. He could feel his passion simmering beneath the surface, but he ignored it for now in favor of the gentle intimacy of the moment. Knowing that it would be sated gave him the patience to wait and anticipate each moment leading up to the culmination. His hands moved slowly over Diego's back, working their way down to the shirttails and beneath, to coast over his lover's hard muscles and soft skin.

As much as he meant to take things slowly, the touch of Orlando's hands on his bare skin sent the flame of desire Diego had struggled to keep banked flaring to life. He slid a hand down the rich material of Orlando's jacket until he cupped the firm curve of his buttock, drawing him closer to press their groins together as his lips moved to the soft skin of Orlando's neck. "You have on too many clothes," he muttered, trying to work a hand in between them to open buttons without drawing away from their embrace.

Orlando's giddy laughter pealed through the room as he kissed Diego quickly. "How much shall I remove?" he asked coyly, hoping he knew the answer. He did not wait for a reply before attacking the buttons on his jacket and shirt.

The sound of Orlando's laughter was a balm to Diego's heart. "Remove them all," he answered with a short smile as he shrugged out of his open shirt, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes raked over the smooth olive skin he had the right to look at openly for the first time. The large, dark disks of his lover's nipples tempted him, and he brushed over one with the back of his knuckles, grinning to himself when it tightened into a hard nub. "And then you can remove mine."

Orlando did not have to be asked twice. He shed his clothes with alacrity, baring himself to Diego's unabashedly appreciative gaze. He took his time with his lover, though, opening the laces of his trousers slowly, caressing each bit of skin as it was revealed, enjoying the moment of anticipation. That he had seen Diego naked, or nearly so, when he was feverish, did not enter Orlando's mind. That had been a matter of necessity. This... this was a matter of pure pleasure and he intended to make the most of it. He pushed the trousers and smallclothes down his lover's thighs, fingers trailing over hard, hair-dusted flesh as they went, until he had to kneel to slide them down further. He helped Diego out of them and his thin stockings before turning his gaze upwards again, to the swelling cock in front of his face. Feeling daring, he leaned forward and swiped his tongue across the tip.

A hiss of surprised pleasure escaped Diego's lips when the rasp of Orlando's tongue swept over his cock. He knew the Englishman was no innocent, but he had not expected him to be so bold. Remembering his demand to be accepted as an equal, Diego resisted the urge to pull Orlando to his feet and order him into the bedroom. He splayed a hand into Orlando's hair and grasped the chair-back firmly with the other, giving Orlando command of their lovemaking – for the moment.

Orlando half expected Diego to wrest control away from him immediately. Gratified when that did not happen, he lingered for a moment over the latest and best of the day's treats, licking up and down the hard shaft, learning its contours and its flavor. His lover smelled faintly of sweat, but mostly of desire, sparking the Englishman's already eager arousal. Working his way to the tip, he sucked lightly at the tip before drawing the head into his mouth, his tongue tracing the slit and pushing back the foreskin, lavishing pleasure on the older man.

None of the fantasies Diego had imagined during the nights since Orlando had entered his life, not even the fevered illusions of his delirium, were as arousing as the reality of the dark-haired beauty kneeling before him, pleasuring him. His fingers tightened in the sable curls as he watched the sculpted lips close around the length of his cock, the tantalizing flickers of Orlando's tongue sending coils of fire dancing through his veins. Not even the moist suction of his lover's mouth drawing him deeper, deep enough to feel his head nudging the back of Orlando's throat, was enough to quench the need to feel himself surrounded by even greater heat, even tighter friction. He felt his release building too quickly, and he was not ready to give in to it yet – he had too much of Orlando's delectable body to explore first, too much pleasure he wanted to bestow in return before indulging in his own. With a low growl, he pulled away, his hand urging Orlando to lift his head. "Too much," he said softly, drawing the younger man to his feet and wrapping him in hard embrace, his own desire glossing his lover's lips. "I would taste more of you, mi corazon."

"All of me if you want," Orlando promised, pushing himself more tightly against his lover. He wanted anything, everything Diego would give him, and he wanted it now. He had a feeling, though, that the older man would refuse to rush, and that sent anticipation singing down his nerves. "Shall we take this to bed?"

"Do you know how many nights I watched you sleep and longed for the right to lie beside you?" Diego asked, nuzzling the silken curve of Orlando's throat from below his ear to the arch of his collarbone. "And on those nights I did lie beside you, how I struggled not to take you in my arms, not to touch you and taste you as I am now?" A slight smile crossed his lips as he raised his head, meeting melting brown eyes that shone with desire as much as he was sure his own burned with it. "Si, let us to bed."

"As many nights as I longed for you to lie beside me, to take me in your arms and touch me, taste me as you are now," Orlando replied fervently, his hand never leaving Diego's as they moved into the bedroom and onto the bed. Lying back, he stretched his arms out, welcoming his lover down onto his eager body. "Give us what we've both desired since we met."

Kneeling on the bed, straddling his lover, Diego paused, drinking in the vision of Orlando holding his arms out to him, his flawless skin golden against the worn bedclothes, his hair a wild halo of darkness against the pillow. Sliding his knees apart, he bent closer, letting his lips trail over the honeyed smoothness. His tongue teased at the pulse that fluttered in the hollow of Orlando's throat, tracing up and down the tendons of his neck, suckling at the knot that bobbed up and down as he swallowed anxiously. He nipped at the bones of his shoulders and down the muscles of his arms, lingering at the bend of each elbow and wrist, pressing moist kisses into each smooth palm and mouthing the fingers as though they were his favourite sweetmeats.

Orlando undulated slowly beneath Diego's teasing touches, drifting on a swell of passion the likes of which he had not known existed. He was no innocent, but no lover had ever touched him the way Diego did, lingered over him like some special treat, savored him like a delicacy without compare. He wondered vaguely what made the difference, whether it was the older man's experience or something else less tangible. Whatever it was, the Englishman knew one thing for certain: he never wanted to be without his lover again.

Watching Orlando's face as he nipped his way back up a slender forearm, Diego was fascinated by the expression of need on his lover's features and the flutter of dark lashes on his closed eyelids. He rose enough to claim one brief kiss, brushing his stubbled cheek against the younger man's neatly trimmed goatee, before returning his attentions to Orlando’s smooth chest. He let his breath ghost over one of the large, tawny nipples, his lips twitching when it hardened from only that delicate touch. Teasing at it with short, hard kisses, he resisted the temptation to close his lips around the dusky pearl until Orlando was moaning beneath him.

"Por favor," Orlando begged, his hands burrowing into Diego's hair as he urged his lover's mouth against his chest. The swordsman had found his weak spot, the place on his body that reduced him to mindless pleading. The sensation of the older man's moustache teasing his skin only added to the already overwhelming sensations. He could feel his cock begin to leak and knew that if Diego continued, it would not be long before he came. "Please," he begged again, "oh, God, please!"

As much as he wanted to prolong their mutual pleasure, Diego was not proof against his lover's pleas. He sucked the tightened nub between his lips, letting his teeth graze it before capturing it with a gentle tug that wrenched a cry from Orlando's throat. The swordsman's strong hands held the supple body down against the bed as he licked a trail to the other side of his partner's chest, repeating the rough caress. Every sound of pleasure he coaxed from Orlando enflamed his own arousal. His cock was a throbbing weight against his belly, but he ignored its insistent demands in favor of tasting his way down his lover's quavering abdomen, toward the equally hard length that curved from between Orlando's wide-spread legs.

Orlando's back arched off the bed when Diego's lips found his aching shaft. Even his babbling pleas faded into incoherency, words completely beyond him as the wet heat of his lover's mouth surrounded him. He wanted to thrust up into the moist depths, but his partner's hands restrained him, leaving him to twist and toss helplessly beneath the lash of overpowering sensation. "Diego!" he wailed, his hand coming to his lips to muffle his own shouts as he struggled to hold back, to keep from coming down Diego's throat. He ached with the need for release, but he struggled to wait, to hold on until his lover was with him, inside him, filling and completing him as he knew instinctively the older man would do.

Orlando tasted exactly as he had imagined, salty with sweat and musky with desire, and Diego thought to himself that of all the delicacies he had consumed that day, this was the one he would crave again and again. As much as he wanted to bring Orlando to climax and savor the hot tang of his release, the need to bury himself deep inside his lover's body was even stronger. Letting the shaft slide from his lips with a final lap at the milky fluid that seeped from it, he pushed himself up on one elbow, reaching toward the clothes-press.

Feeling Diego's weight leave him, Orlando moaned in protest, his hands clenching reflexively at his lover's shoulders. "Don't," he begged, thinking something he had done was causing his partner to pull away again. "Please, novio. Don't go."

"Te quiero," Diego rasped, the pain in his shoulder where Orlando unthinkingly clutched it subsumed by his aching need to claim the younger man in the most primal of ways. "But I must get something to ease the way." His fingers closed around a small flask of the oil he used to care for his sword blade. Kneeling back between Orlando's legs, his battle-scarred hands stroked the unblemished thighs, coaxing them to part further before dipping into the flagon of lubricant. Pale eyes darkened with desire never left Orlando's face as he parted the damp crease of his buttocks, circling the pucker of flesh that quivered beneath his touch.

"Por favor," Orlando begged shamelessly, pulling his knees toward his chest, opening himself as completely as he could to his lover's hands. "Touch me," he added, so there could be no confusion over what he wanted.

That was a request the swordsman could not deny. Spreading one hand over the planes of Orlando's abdomen, Diego eased the tip of his finger forward until it penetrated the clenching muscle. The sight of his thick finger disappearing into the pale flesh fired his blood, imagining that heat and pressure squeezing his cock as he claimed the beguiling Englishman completely. Rubbing his thumb over the faint line of hair that arrowed toward Orlando's leaking manhood, he worked his finger in deeper, stroking the sides of the tight channel, watching his lover's expression lose its initial tension from the intrusion as his body relaxed to accept him.

Orlando arched and writhed beneath the confident caresses, losing himself completely in Diego's enticing touch, Diego's burning gaze. The finger inside him stretched him, but not enough. He wanted, needed more. He needed Diego's...

"Diego! Get dressed and get out here. Íñigo's in danger!"

tbc…