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Title: Guilty Promises
Author:

namarie120
Type: RPS / FPS crossover
Pairing: Orlando Bloom / Nikolai Luzhin
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Possible spoilers, though we’ve tried to keep it vague and still make sense to people who haven’t seen the film yet
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, created for entertainment and enjoyment only. With all due respect, we do not own these characters or the actors portraying them. They’re just too compelling to pass up a chance to play with them.
Feedback: would be wonderful
Beta:

tularia
Summary: A police officer and a Russian mobster meet again in London
A/N: This is a sequel to No Promises. Thanks to

tularia for the banner, which was too wonderful not to use again, and to

tati for the Russian translations.
A/N2 – With birthday wishes, and hopefully not too many spoilers, for

baileymoyes!

~~~~~~

Nikolai pulled into the deserted parking lot and killed the engine, sitting for a moment in the darkened car. The vodka he had drunk earlier still hummed in his blood, though he could ignore that. The memory of what he had been commanded to do would be far harder to shake off. He wished again he'd had time to shower and change his clothes before this meeting, but it had been set long before Kirill decided they needed to celebrate tonight. Grimacing at his reflection in the rear-view mirror, he smoothed a hand over his hair and stepped out of the car, crossing the cracked tarmac to the empty warehouse.

Inside the warehouse, concealed by the dark windows frosted with age and neglect, Orlando watched the older man cross the deserted space, his breath wreathing his head like the smoke from the cigarettes he preferred. His groin tightened as he imagined how the night would end, uncomfortably aware of the condoms and lube he had dropped in his own trouser pocket. Always before, he had relied on his contact to be prepared, but tonight... he glanced away from the compelling form. Tonight he would be complicit in his own downfall.

The door was unlocked as Bloom had promised it would be, the heavy chain rattling against the rusted door as Nikolai entered. Standing in the doorway, his eyes scanned the space around him out of habit, seeing nothing but the man standing against the windows at the far side of the open room. He lit a cigarette, knowing he was stalling, drawing the harsh smoke into his lungs before stepping inside. The door shut behind him, blocking out all but the faint light from one or two broken windowpanes. His footsteps echoed against the cement walls as he walked toward Bloom.

"You're late," Orlando said from across the room, though there was no heat in his voice. As much as he hated it, he understood that Luzhin's time was not his own. "A few more minutes and I might not have been here still." And that, he knew, was a lie, albeit one he had to utter. He would have waited far longer than he had, hoping against hope that his lover would arrive. They had agreed not to wait more than half an hour if the other one did not arrive on time, knowing that either of them could be delayed beyond their control. Their meetings were risky enough without adding to it by being careless. But the need to see the other man, to feel his hard body, had grown large enough that Orlando was willing to take that risk.

"It was ... unavoidable," Nikolai answered, stopping a few feet away from where Bloom stood. He could have called to cancel the meet, could have simply not shown up, but a part of him needed this time, needed away from his life and his memories if only for a few brief moments. He dragged at the cigarette again, then dropped it to the floor and ground it beneath his shoe. The grittiness and their breathing were the only sounds. "And you complain about my choice of meeting places," he said, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

"It's deserted," Orlando retorted, eyes raking the wiry body in front of him, hidden beneath the heavy coat. He didn't need to see, though, to know what lay beneath. Every line of that body was imprinted on his own, on his mind and heart. On his very soul. Pushing aside those hopeless thoughts, he went on, "The raid here a few days ago pretty much guarantees neither the police nor the owners will be coming back to bother us. There's a back room with a couch and cot. Somehow I didn't think you'd come if I suggested my flat as a meeting place."

"You're right," Nikolai admitted, rejecting the easy joke he could have made at the policeman's choice of words. Given what had happened earlier, there was a possibility he couldn't come again, though with the way his body was reacting – the way it always reacted – just to being this close to the younger man, it didn't seem he'd need to worry about that. He ought to turn around and leave, but instead he inclined his head to meet Bloom's gaze. "So, are we waiting for someone else or can we do what we came here to do?"

The blunt words shocked Orlando for a moment, but he pulled his wits about him again, reminding himself that with no chance of anyone around to see them, they could dispense with the pretence of meeting only as cop and potential informant. He started to reach for the other man's hand, to lead him toward the back room, but something in the cold gaze stopped him. "This way," he said simply, walking across the empty space toward the minimal comforts of the office.

The office was as spartan as Bloom had described, though marginally cleaner than the rest of the warehouse. The fluorescent light whined and flashed overhead, and Nikolai snapped it off, not wanting to question why he preferred the darkness. Shrugging out of his topcoat, he hung it on a hook at the back of the door, the grimy window letting in just enough light for him to see Bloom unbuttoning his police jacket to reveal the slim body beneath. Nikolai's cock thickened, knowing what was still concealed would be far more arousing than anything else he'd seen this night.

Stepping close to reach around the Russian, Orlando started to hang up his jacket when a far too familiar scent assailed his senses. Nikolai smelled like sex... before they'd even started. The realization sent him reeling. He took a step back, then another. "What do you take me for?" he hissed, betrayal killing his arousal as quickly as any cold shower. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Or did you think I was so desperate I wouldn't care? Is that why you were late? You were out fucking someone else?"

Biting back a curse, Nikolai shook his head. He had known coming here was a mistake, known Bloom couldn't help but discern what he had done. What Kirill had ordered him to do, but that excuse held no weight, even to himself. "You know what I am," he replied harshly. "I follow orders. Sometimes those orders are for things ... not so pleasant." Perhaps he had hoped to provoke this very confrontation – of course Bloom would be disgusted when he realized what Nikolai truly was. He had no right to expect anything more. Reaching back for his coat, he shrugged. "We have both known from the start this was unwise."

Enraged, Orlando pounced, not even considering how Luzhin would react. He pinned the older man against the door. "Hell, no," he spat angrily. He knew what Nikolai was – he hated what Nikolai was – but he had accepted it. He just hadn't expected the Russian to rub his face in it quite so blatantly. Not on this plane anyway. And yet, he refused to let this... fucked up whatever it was between them end this way. "You don't get to give me some lame excuse and walk away. You came here tonight. You could have called to postpone. You could have simply not shown up. But you came. Why, Nikolai? Why put us both through this?"

Why indeed? The surge of lust that flooded him, more intoxicating than all the vodka he'd drunk, was one answer, and he pushed up against Bloom's body, letting him feel his arousal through the contact. "This is why," he insisted, his hands grasping the younger man's ass and grinding them together, knowing a thrill of power at the answering response. "What other reason do either of us need?"

Orlando couldn't stop his body's reaction, couldn't keep his hips from arching into the other man's or his cock from jumping at the thought of removing the clothes between them, but that only made him angrier. "You already got 'this' tonight," he pointed out furiously. "You didn't need me to get off then. Why do you need me now?"

"It wasn't what I wanted," Nikolai grated, his eyes closing as he spread his legs to pull Orlando between them, rubbing their swelling cocks together. His lips found the side of his lover's throat, tasting the sweat and anger on his skin. Raking his hand into Orlando's hair when he tried to pull away, Nikolai's teeth grazed up the straining tendons of the younger man's neck. "It wasn't this," he admitted, before his lips closed over Orlando's with a groan, "wasn't you...."

Orlando wanted to fight, wanted to hold on to his anger, but the admission – the most Nikolai had ever said – stole his fury and melted his heart. If they weren't the words of love he dared not hope to hear, they were at least an acknowledgment that what they shared, however twisted, meant more than the anonymous fucks they pretended to want. His moan of pleasure blended with his lover's and he returned the kiss fervently, lips and teeth clashing as he strove to expunge his emotions through their passion. They rarely kissed while they were having sex, the touching of lips somehow too intimate for the callousness of their bodies' actions, but tonight it seemed fitting.

He could feel it the instant Orlando stopped fighting him. The young officer's acquiescence might be only a reflection of how long it had been since their last fuck, but it went to Nikolai's head faster than all the shots he had taken with Kirill. Leaning back against the door for stability, he held Orlando's head still with one hand, feasting on the clean taste of his mouth as he worked open the buttons of his lover's shirt. He needed to feel smooth muscles beneath his palm, needed the strength of another man – of Orlando – straining against his body as they struggled for more contact.

Eagerly, Orlando returned his lover's caresses, his heart racing as Nikolai took more, accepted more, than he ever had before. Reaching for the Russian's belt, he worked it open, intent on finding his prize as quickly as possible. It had been too long and the previous moments too fraught for him to have anything like patience remaining. He slid a hand beneath the mobster's waistband even as he fought with the zipper on his slacks. "Need you..." he gasped, pulling back from the kiss to take a gulp of air.

Biting back the urge to follow Orlando's lips, Nikolai's mouth moved down the long throat and over the planes of his lover's chest, pushing the white shirt aside as he went. Pulling down the scooped neck of Orlando's undershirt, he rubbed his thumb over a brown nipple until it stiffened, closing his teeth around it with a muffled moan. The hand that had been buried in Orlando's hair slid down his back to cup his ass, catching the younger man's hand between them as he pressed him closer, his hips rocking into the contact.

Orlando moaned in delight at the friction against his aching cock. If Nikolai followed their usual routine, it would take only seconds longer before he found himself pinned to the wall, his lover's cock spearing him delightfully. Finally defeating the zipper, he pushed Nikolai's trousers down to the tops of his thighs, stroking the hard muscles encouragingly, longing to be filled as only this man could do. He didn't pause to marvel at the unusual attention his lover was paying to the rest of his body. He was too desperate to feel Nikolai inside him again.

Impatient for more of the firm body beneath his mouth, Nikolai yanked the vest over Orlando's head, baring his torso to his lips and teeth. His mouth mapping every centimeter of unmarked skin, he unfastened the uniform trousers and belt, sliding them to the floor. He was tempted to follow the trail of dark hair lower, to wipe the bitter taste from his mouth with the saltiness of his lover’s flesh, but he could not kneel for any man, even this one. Instead, he rose and crushed Orlando's mouth to his, working a leg between Orlando's to mold their bodies together, their cocks surging at the contact of skin against skin.

Orlando's hands slid around to cup Nikolai's arse, rocking into the heated friction. "What are you waiting for?" he taunted, his control stretching thin. He didn't want to come this way and it would be so easy. "Fuck me already."

"Chyort," Nikolai spat, damning the circumstances that had left him unprepared. Carrying condoms wouldn't have made Kirill suspicious, but being discovered with lube in his pocket would have raised questions he couldn't risk. "I have no supplies," he rasped, even as his hips continued to rut against Orlando's.

"In... my pocket," Orlando husked, trying unsuccessfully to pull away long enough to reach them. When Nikolai didn't immediately release him, he pinched one firm buttock playfully. "Let me get them. I want you inside me."

Nikolai's eyes narrowed at the liberty, but he let Orlando go, stripping off the rest of his clothes as he watched the younger man bend over to reach into the pocket of his trousers. When was nearly bent in two, Nikolai tweaked at a pale cheek in turn, leaning back to lounge against the door at his lover’s shocked reaction.

Retrieving the tube and foil packet from his trousers and summoning a mock glare at Nikolai's playful gesture, Orlando handed them to Nikolai and turned to the narrow cot, kneeling on it and glancing back over his shoulder provocatively. He didn't completely understand what had changed suddenly, but he didn't want to do anything to stop it.

Orlando's invitation was one Nikolai had never been able to resist, but tonight his posture sent a roil of guilt eating at his gut. "Not like that," he muttered hoarsely, pushing at the younger man's shoulder to urge him onto his back on the thin mattress. Lowering himself between Orlando's legs, he braced his hands on either side of his lover's head, looking down at the sculpted features and dark hair spread across the musty-smelling sheet.

Orlando stared up into the grey eyes that haunted his dreams, the novelty of their new position almost as overwhelming as its intimacy. He knew the feeling of Nikolai's weight against his body, but never before like this, face to face, chest to chest. Always before, Nikolai had insisted on the pretence of an anonymous fuck, regardless of reality, but there was no dissimulation in the older man's gaze now. "Not that I'm complaining," he said, stroking one stubbled cheek, "but why?"

"Prosti," Nikolai murmured, dropping his head to Orlando's chest, kissing the hollow of his throat. "Prosti," he repeated against the warm skin, offering his apology to both he had wronged though only one of them could hear him.

Orlando didn't know enough Russian to understand the word Nikolai whispered, but he heard the regret in his lover's voice. Accepting that this was a peace offering, he wrapped his arms around the other man's shoulders and rocked up against him, hoping to entice him to finish what they had started. He thought briefly about saying something, about accepting the apology in some way, but in the end, he held his tongue. The situation was still too uncertain for him to have any confidence in Nikolai's reaction, and the last thing he wanted to do was drive his lover away. Not now.

Nikolai's eyes closed for a moment when Orlando's arms surrounded him, signalling that here, at least, he had been forgiven. Running a gentle hand through his partner’s tousled hair, he sat back on his heels, reaching for the lube and coating his fingers with the slick gel. Their preparation was usually cursory at best, but tonight he took his time, his eyes fixed on Orlando's face, drinking in each gasp and moan as his fingers stretched and probed, the act itself a gift of pleasure rather than merely means to an end.

Orlando writhed beneath the slow, careful preparation, so different from the usual thrust and twist of Nikolai's fingers followed quickly – sometimes too quickly – by his cock. Tonight, there was no rush. He knew Nikolai wanted him as badly as ever – the cock pulsing against his thigh was proof of that – but his lover lingered over the preliminaries, surrounding Orlando in a cocoon of warmth and passion that far overshadowed anything he had ever felt with the other man. For once, and he did not delude himself that this tenderness would spill over to their next encounter, but this once, he felt like Nikolai's lover, not his plaything. Leaning into the touch of the callused palm in his hair, he turned his head and kissed a tattooed wrist. "Kolya," he murmured, the diminutive slipping out far sooner than it usually would.

An ink-stained finger traced Orlando's cheek as Nikolai moved forward, lifting his lover's hips and aligning himself with the welcoming portal. "Malysh," he said softly, Orlando's legs wrapping around him as he slid in slowly, watching the brown eyes widen as the channel stretched to accept him, enveloping him in warmth. He moved carefully, cradling Orlando's hips to lift him closer, until he was buried deep, deeper than he had ever allowed himself to delve.

The tenderness inherent in Nikolai's caress moved Orlando powerfully, rocking him back on his heels as he tried to assimilate this new lover with the man he knew. Then he felt the Russian's erection nudging his entrance and all other thought fled as he relaxed his muscles and let himself be taken. Despite the careful preparation, the first penetration burned a little. He gasped as he was stretched differently, more fully, than Nikolai had ever done before, their bodies mating now in a way their pretence had not allowed before. He tightened his legs around the other man's waist, pulling him closer, keeping him buried deep, as he pushed up to meet every downward thrust.

Nikolai tensed, biting his lip against the hot surge of sensation that urged him to thrust powerfully until they both found their release. Not this time. Not again. Just this once he would let himself take things slowly, let himself watch the emotion on his lover's face as he stirred inside him, let the feelings he could not give name to, even to himself, wash him clean of guilt and regret.

Though the lustful tension continued to build inside him, Orlando felt himself sinking into the bed, relaxing into the sensation of having Nikolai inside him, above him, surrounding him. As the other man lowered his head and mated their lips, the delicious friction on his cock increased, caught between their slowly shifting bellies. Inside him, Nikolai's cock rubbed repeatedly, constantly over his prostate, adding to the passion building within him. And yet, it remained at bay, held in check by the wealth of emotion in Nikolai's eyes, the gentleness with which he claimed the younger man's mouth.

The slow welling of pleasure built so gradually that Nikolai was nearly taken by surprise when he felt the tightening in his groin that told him he was close to climax. Sliding a hand between them to clasp Orlando's shaft, he stroked it with the same long, slow movements, his tongue surging and retreating against Orlando's in the same rhythm, joining every part of their bodies in the sensuous dance. Only when the hot splash of his lover's release wet their bellies did he let himself go, his long, low groan swallowed by Orlando's mouth.

His cry muffled by Nikolai's lips, Orlando lost the fight to hold back his release, his seed spurting out to cover Nikolai's hand and their stomachs as his lover continued to stir inside him. His hands tightened on Nikolai's shoulders, urging him on, urging him to share the same joy overtaking them. To his delight and relief, Nikolai's weight settled fully onto him, pressing him heavily into the lumpy mattress. Orlando barely noticed, too intent on searching the other man's eyes, seeking some confirmation that his lover had felt the import of this moment as well.

Drained by his second orgasm in as many hours, Nikolai slumped heavily against Orlando, letting his heartbeat and breathing slow. When he felt in control again, he rolled to his side, sliding from Orlando's body but carrying his lover with him so that the younger man nestled against his chest. Content for the moment to simply lie quietly, he stared over his lover's head out the filthy, cracked window, letting his thoughts wander in directions he could not afford to follow.

Buoyed by the unprecedented closeness between them, during and especially after the explosive sex, Orlando nuzzled the cross in the center of Nikolai's smooth chest. "Will you tell me what orders they gave you tonight?" he asked softly, hoping Nikolai understood it was the lover speaking, not the policeman. He wasn't completely sure he wanted to know, but if Nikolai would tell him, he could put the matter behind him rather than wondering and worrying.

Pushing up on one elbow, Nikolai exhaled shortly, a sound that from another man might have been laughter. "To prove myself," he said, his mouth twitching at Orlando's questioning expression. "To prove I'm not queer."

Orlando's disbelief must have been clear on his face because that stifled, rusty snort came from Nikolai's mouth again. "But..." he began, glancing down at their intertwined bodies. He trailed off, clearly not sure what he wanted to say. He wondered briefly about the woman Nikolai had been with – if she had been a prostitute, if she had been willing at least. As attractive as he found the other man, he could easily see a woman feeling the same way.

"In vory, men don't fuck other men," Nikolai grated. At least, not outside of prison, he thought grimly. "You are danger not only because you are police, but because you are man."

And yet you came to me tonight anyway, Orlando marveled silently. Suspecting Nikolai would not appreciate him mentioning that aloud, he simply nodded and tilted his head up to kiss his lover gently. This new revelation, combined with all that had transpired between them that evening, gave him the assurance he needed not to cling to Nikolai as he usually wanted to do. Untangling their limbs slowly, he sat up, reaching for his trousers. "Then I should go," he said gently. "I don't want you in any more danger than you already are." Pulling his shirt into place, he bent down and pressed another kiss to Nikolai's lips, wanting it clear that his departure was for now, not forever.

Nikolai watched silently as the strong, slender body was hidden once again beneath the shapeless, heavy uniform, completing the transformation from lover back to adversary. When Orlando bent down to kiss him, he was tempted to pull the younger man back onto the narrow cot, but he had come too close tonight to letting himself want this too much, to letting it mean more than it could. Instead, he sat up and dug his cigarettes out of his coat pocket, the flare of the match offering a quick glimpse of his lover's face before spluttering back into darkness.

A part of Orlando could not help hoping Nikolai would say something, anything, to stop him from leaving, to encourage him to call again soon, but he knew better than to expect it. Circumstances had pushed his skittish lover further tonight than in all the time they had known each other. He would have to be satisfied with that. Pausing at the door, he glanced back to drink in the sight of Nikolai sitting naked on the cot in the dim light from the window and from his cigarette, storing up that memory to hold him until he couldn't stand it any longer and had to call again for another surreptitious fuck in the dark. Steeling himself to wait as long as he could, he summoned a smile for his lover and disappeared into the dark warehouse and out into the night.

The door slammed shut and Nikolai smoked his cigarette, wondering how long he would need to wait before Orlando called again.