Yours, Mine, Ours.
Jul. 31st, 2020 03:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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vigorliTitle: Yours, Mine, Ours.
Author: Artemis Allen
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Orlando/Viggo (mention of other partners)
Beta:silvan_lady; Thank you.
But I have tampered with it because I can’t leave well alone, so all mistakes are mine.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
Notes: A very belated Birthday Gift forgattodoro. Happy Birthday!
Word Count: 5,500
Summary: Written in the - Pictures at an Exhibition - universe. If you are not familiar with this universe earlier posts can be found here. PAAE
Orlando, bleary-eyed and miserably hungover, shuffled into the spacious and, in the opinion of his fragile brain, painfully bright, sitting room of Viggo’s London apartment. He was naked except for the midnight blue silk boxers which hung loosely on, or strictly speaking off, his slender hips and as he walked he took gulps of coffee from the mug which he was gripping between hands that seemed unaccountably shaky this morning.
“What time is it?” he croaked, rubbing his forehead.
“Almost eleven,” Viggo replied in an annoyingly cheerful voice. He was reclining on the sofa reading but Orlando saw him stretch out a surreptitious hand towards his camera which was on a nearby side table.
“Don’t even think about it!”
Viggo pouted. “Awwww, but you look so gloriously wrecked.”
“I’m serious,” Orlando growled, “do not do that.”
“Or what?” Viggo asked with a playful smile.
“Or, there will be no sex tonight.”
Viggo shrugged. “There was no sex last night, I survived.”
Orlando groaned. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened last night. I don’t usually drink that much.”
Viggo’s face took on a more concerned expression. “Yeah, that’s what Cate said; she was doing quite a lot of complaining about it, she seemed to be implying that since I’m an artist and therefore obviously a degenerate, I’ve accomplished what Hollywood couldn’t, and turned you towards drink and drugs.”
Orlando groaned again. His publicist was a lovely woman and he adored her, whilst also being slightly scared of her, but she was apt to get seriously pissed off if her clients didn’t behave themselves when they were ‘on duty’ at a promotional event. He would definitely be treated to a stern lecture at their next meeting. “Oh, bugger, I’m so, so sorry. I’m sure she doesn’t blame you though. In fact, I think she wanted you there to raise the tone of the whole thing. It was just… I don’t know…” Orlando pushed a distracted hand through his messy curls.
“You were nervous?”
“Nervous?” Orlando echoed. “No, no… that’s not quite… no, why on earth would I be nervous? It wasn’t my first premiere.”
“It was our first premiere though wasn’t it?” Viggo said, placidly.
“Oh shit, did I ruin it for you? Again, I’m sorry.”
“Of course you didn’t, it was your night, I was just along for the ride. I did think you seemed on edge though but I decided maybe that’s how you always were at these things. I know you hate the off-screen public attention.”
Orlando tried to process all this, not an easy task given that his head was throbbing and he felt nauseous; but Viggo was right it had been their first time together at a film premiere and he had been ridiculously nervous; for several reasons.
Since their reunion in December, they had been trying to make up for the six months of separation by spending as much time together as possible but they already had prior work commitments which initially made this difficult. Orlando needed to make a couple of trips back to California and Viggo had to spend some time at his other studio in New York. But now Viggo was busy preparing a book, based partly on his current UK exhibition, and Orlando was rehearsing a stage play that would be opening in the West End later that year so they were both based in London for several months. Orlando had been happily enjoying this cosy and carefree domesticity in Viggo’s apartment when Cate had informed him of the upcoming UK premiere for one of his recent films and seemed to take it as a given that Viggo would accompany him.
It was only a small film backed by European, rather than American or Chinese, money so there wasn't going to be a huge amount of razzmatazz for the London Premiere which would be held at the Odeon cinema in Leicester Square; but there would still be media coverage of the event. It wasn’t the idea of them appearing together in public as a couple that had worried him though, it was more the content of the film, which was neither a potential blockbuster nor a sophisticated Art House production; and also the inevitable presence of his co-stars.
The film was a fast-paced action thriller and there was certainly a wide audience for this kind of movie; it had a decent script and he thought his own performance had been pretty good, but he didn’t think Viggo would enjoy it as it was formulaic and frequently violent. Orlando and his male co-star played government agents who pursued their criminal targets through deserted backstreets and shady nightclubs but then in their off duty lives competed for the attentions of their female boss; the inevitable sex scenes were extremely athletic and explicit. It was something that hadn’t bothered him with either of his wives; the fact that they could see him on the screen making love to other women, so he wasn’t quite sure why it bothered him now, it wasn't as if he’d been sleeping with the female lead as he had done during the romantic comedy he’d shot last year in Greece. No, unlike her character in the film, the lovely Evie had been side-lined by her male colleagues because during the principal filming and also the pick-ups they had shot the previous summer, he and Lee had been athletically shagging each other.
Orlando and Lee were old friends; they had done a few films together and they enjoyed hanging out in their downtime but there had never been anything serious between them, it was just recreational buddy fucking. Lee was a very good looking man, tall, well over six foot, and lean; he had relationships with both sexes and he didn’t make a secret of his lifestyle, Orlando had always admired this openness. He was also good company but he could sometimes be a shameless flirt and on occasion, a complete arsehole. Viggo knew about Lee and the fact that Orlando had amused himself in the man’s bed after turning down Viggo’s pleas to stay with him in England but introducing them to each other wasn’t something Orlando had ever envisaged.
He had thought about telling Viggo that, despite Cate’s expectations, he really didn’t need to attend the premiere; suggest he’d only be bored, emphasise how these things were such a drag, explain how much he hated them himself - which he really did, remind his lover about his aversion to actors in general, but that would have been at odds with their current ‘let’s do everything together whenever we can’ philosophy. So he had compromised by asking Viggo if he would like to accompany him but adding, in a deliberately upbeat tone, that he would understand if he didn’t want to, given the violence and the extended sex scenes and Lee’s presence. Viggo had laughed, said he would very much like to go, and it would be an interesting experience. Orlando had tried to look happy about it.
Being a low key affair, there hadn't been much of a red carpet but there had still been fans and press photographers lining the short route between the car and the foyer of the cinema. Viggo had waited patiently in the background as Orlando posed for pictures and signed autographs before they entered the theatre. Then during some of the more intense scenes in the film, Viggo had reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers reassuringly and Orlando had been moved by his lover’s quiet support. He reflected that in similar situations both of his wives and most of his girlfriends would have thoroughly worked the red carpet, wanting the public attention for themselves, and then often spent at least part of the screening in the ladies restroom gossiping and fixing their make-up.
There hadn’t been time for reunions before the showing and Orlando had tried to persuade Cate that he surely didn’t need to attend the post-screening reception but she had been adamant that he did, so introducing Viggo to Lee became inevitable. Evie and Lee had greeted him enthusiastically as soon as they arrived at the party and Lee immediately slung an arm around Orlando’s neck, pulled him close and whispered in his ear, “So this is the new boyfriend then, I like the look of him, would you be willing to share?”
Orlando knew this was undoubtedly a serious suggestion. “No! Fuck right off!” he replied brusquely. Lee just laughed and he grasped Viggo’s hand tightly as they were introduced and then said slyly, “I hear there are some compromising pictures of you both, I’d really like to see those.”
Viggo smiled civilly and replied. “They’re not particularly compromising, just a few partial nudes, but they’re on public display so knock yourself out.”
“On display?” Lee appeared confused, “Where?”
It seemed that Evie was better informed and she sighed loudly at Lee’s responses and said, “In an art gallery you philistine, where did you think they’d be? Viggo, is the Viggo Mortensen, you know, the photographer.” This still didn’t register with Lee so she added, “He’s very famous, on both sides of the Atlantic.”
Lee turned and surveyed Viggo with even more interest. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that.”
“S’okay,” Viggo responded with another friendly smile, “I didn’t recognise your name either.”
Orlando snorted into his champagne; he would have liked to have thrown his arms around Viggo and kiss him, but he refrained. Evie laughed delightedly. “I was planning on seeing the exhibition while we’re here in London,” she said, then she smiled hopefully at Viggo, “would there be any chance at all of a personal tour?”
Viggo shrugged. “Sure I’d be delighted to show you around.”
Orlando wasn't entirely sure that he was delighted about it. Evie was ogling Viggo almost as hungrily as Lee. “I could take you round,” he offered quickly, “it's not like I haven't seen the exhibition a thousand times, I can do a very informed guided tour.”
For the first time that evening Viggo seemed to lose his air of cool composure and turned to stare at him in surprise; obviously confused by this patent untruth. Orlando had been to the gallery precisely twice; firstly on the opening night and then a week later to view the hanging of the additional pictures that had revealed their identities as the subjects of the photos. He had subsequently avoided visiting because despite being an actor he was shy of the attention and didn’t want to run the risk of being recognised.
“Why don’t we all go together?” Lee suggested with another sly grin.
With a disgruntled huff, Orlando agreed. At least if he was there with them, Lee’s and Evie’s behaviour towards Viggo would have to be relatively restrained, hopefully. “Okay. When are you both free?”
“Tomorrow afternoon?” Evie suggested. “You know Lee never surfaces before midday.”
“If you like,” Orlando agreed resignedly. “How about three o’clock outside the Hayward? Can you find it on your own?”
“I’m sure we can,” Evie said firmly, ignoring Lee’s shrug of incomprehension, “we’ll see you there. It’ll be fun.”
Cate appeared at this point and chivvied them off in different directions to fulfil their obligations to play nice with the guests and the press. Maybe it was his own dislike of these occasions and the fact that he was enjoying the support that Viggo was so unstintingly providing, or maybe it was Lee’s predatory advances, but Orlando made sure that the older man didn’t wander off on his own and that they avoided the others as much as possible; Lee especially. Viggo hadn’t complained, maybe hadn’t even realised. Orlando tried to compensate for this possessive behaviour by occasionally pulling Viggo close and whispering in his ear some lewd descriptions of exactly what he was going to do to him when they got home. Despite this distraction technique Orlando had found the party even more of a strain than he usually did and he’d uncharacteristically over indulged in the apparently inexhaustible champagne; unsurprisingly, the much-promised rampant sex hadn’t happened.
“Do you want something to eat?” Viggo asked as Orlando was silently replaying the events of the previous evening in his head. “Late brunch or just a light lunch? We have to be at the Hayward for three to meet your friends. I already called and arranged the tickets.”
Orlando groaned some more, both at the thought of food and of exposing Viggo to Lee and Evie. “I’m not sure I’m fit for the Hayward.”
“I can go alone if you don’t feel up to it.”
“Noooo!” Orlando exclaimed.
Viggo’s brows rose in surprise. “Don’t you trust me with your friends? You did seem keen to keep me away from them last night.”
So, Viggo had noticed; Orlando sighed and slumped down beside him on the sofa. “I don’t trust them,” he said bitterly, then he set the mug down and snuggled up to his lover. “They both want to seduce you away from me.”
Viggo laughed. “I think that’s the champagne hangover talking.”
“No, it really isn’t,” Orlando said petulantly. “I know them.”
“Well, don’t worry,” Viggo kissed the top of Orlando’s head which was pressed against his shoulder, “I’m not easily seduced.”
“Yes, you are,” Orlando sniggered. “It took me all of ten minutes and Lee is much more brazen than I am.”
“Yeah, I noticed that, your ex is certainly a player,” Viggo chuckled, “but I’m sure Cate can control them.”
Orlando was about to protest that Lee wasn’t really an ex as they’d never been together in that sense but then the second part of Viggo’s statement registered. “Cate?”
“Yes, she decided to come too. I guess any outing is potentially a publicity opportunity for you all and she wants to make the most of it.”
“Well, that’s just great, this day can’t possibly get any worse.” Orlando moaned, burrowing further into Viggo’s side. “Just let me curl up on this sofa and die. I know her, she’s going to yell at me for last night.”
After a lot more coffee, a shower, food and pain-killers, Orlando felt somewhat better and was in a more positive frame of mind by the time they set off for the gallery. When they met up with Cate en route he apologised profusely and begged forgiveness; she contented herself with frowning menacingly and suggesting they have lunch sometime the following week to ‘talk’. It seemed he wasn’t being let off easily, the lecture was merely deferred.
The Hayward was quite busy for a Thursday afternoon and it amused Orlando that the gallery staff obviously recognised Viggo as he picked up the tickets and were extremely attentive to their party; although it was made clear that this was because they were Viggo’s guests and not that three of them were well-known actors. As they made their way through the exhibition Viggo gave a brief description of the pictures and where and how they had been taken, Evie listened attentively and asked questions but Lee frequently gazed about, presumably looking for the more entertaining nude pictures he had been promised. Eventually, they moved upstairs. For Orlando, the opening night was a recollection still fresh in his memory, the expectation, the nerves about seeing Viggo again and the growing realisation as he, Cate and the Beans had moved through the building, that the pictures taken in Viggo’s tiny flat in Robin Hood’s Bay were probably somewhere in this exhibition. He still hadn't been fully prepared for the sight of them though; or the sight of Viggo, so suave in evening dress; or even for his reaction to the situation, leading to his impromptu plea to Viggo to take him back supposedly in exchange for the more intimate shots, a few of which were now also included in the display.
They turned the corner that would finally bring them into the vicinity of these pictures; there was already a small crowd in front of them but as they approached Orlando was suddenly aware of Viggo's footsteps hesitating. He wondered if perhaps his lover had realised that their appearance was going to attract attention but as he scanned the viewers he spotted a tall, bearded man, immaculately dressed in an expensive grey suit and he immediately recognised him as Richard Armitage, Viggo’s ex-lover, the man he had dumped in favour of Orlando. Orlando wanted to turn and run; apparently this day was about to get very much worse; they couldn’t really halt their progress though as Lee and Evie were already in front of the photographs. Orlando felt Viggo’s hand reaching for his and he grasped it tightly.
“Is this going to be a problem?” he whispered in Viggo’s ear.
“No,” Viggo replied, “it’ll be fine.” But he didn’t sound wholly convinced.
Orlando understood his trepidation, he’d felt the same way having to introduce Viggo to Lee, and unlike Viggo and Richard, he and Lee hadn’t been a couple; he wondered if he could manage to be as composed and urbane as Viggo had been last night, and fuck, he was the actor here, it shouldn’t be beyond him, but it was all very easy when you were speaking words from a script; Orlando was out of practice at ad-libbing. Predictably as people spotted them there was an outbreak of excited whispering and gesturing. Richard turned as the noise escalated and his gaze fell upon Viggo. Orlando saw the man’s expression turn from startled, to wistful and then almost guilty and he actually felt sorry for him.
Viggo cleared his throat and after a final squeeze, dropped Orlando’s hand and stepped towards the curator. “Richard. Hi, I’m surprised to find you here in the middle of the afternoon, shouldn’t you be working?”
Richard had recovered his composure and he smiled, ruefully. “Well, this is part of my job. I need to keep up with the current work of contemporary artists.”
His voice was deep, but quiet, reserved, almost shy; and fucking sexy Orlando thought. Close up Armitage was even more handsome than in his photos.
“You know we’d like to add some of your work to our collection.” As he spoke he was facing Viggo but his eyes flickered occasionally towards Orlando.
Viggo noticed it too. “Richard, this is Orlando Bloom. Orlando, Richard Armitage. Richard is a curator at the Tate Modern.”
Orlando took a very deep breath and then stepped forward, hand outstretched, trying not to let it tremble. “Hi, pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Richard’s handshake was firm, confident. “I’ve seen some of your films.”
“Really?” Orlando was genuinely surprised, the man looked far too sophisticated for the kind of movies he generally made. Perhaps he’d misjudged him, maybe he wasn’t a stuck-up prat after all. He was finding the man’s gaze disconcerting though and he sought to divert it. “Perhaps you recognise my friends too then?” he said gesturing towards Evie and Lee who were standing nearby, both watching curiously; he wondered if they had picked up on the tension in these exchanges.
“Yes, I think I do,” Richard said, offering his hand to them as well.
Orlando couldn’t help but notice Lee’s appreciative perusal of Richard; God the man was a tart, but he noticed the flicker of amused interest in Richard’s eyes too, especially when Lee prolonged their handshake.
An elbow hit him in the ribs and he coughed to cover his squeak of surprise, before saying, “And this is Cate Blanchett, my publicist.” Cate advanced hand decorously outstretched, inviting a kiss rather than a handshake and Richard chivalrously obliged. Orlando tried to suppress a fit of nervous giggles. Cate could be almost as shameless as Lee when in the presence of an attractive man.
“So…,” Lee interjected, blatantly wanting the curator’s attention back, “would you really show these in your museum Richard?” And he moved forward to study the pictures more closely; arms folded, head tilted as if he were actually giving them some serious artistic appreciation.
“Oh, absolutely,” Richard replied, moving up beside him and mirroring his pose, “they’re amazing. See, the play of light and shade and the unusual angles?”
“Oh, yes,” Lee responded in a pensive tone. “I can absolutely see that.”
The two women jostled for position on Richard’s other side. “This one is my favourite,” Cate said waving an elegant hand towards one of the pictures.
“I think I prefer the one of the buttocks,” Evie said, also tilting her head to study the pictures.
The people who had already been viewing the display gathered behind the new celebrity audience and were avidly digesting this discussion.
“I knew this was a really, really bad idea,” Orlando hissed at Viggo. “Please just kill me right now and spare me any more embarrassment.” He was sure his cheeks were burning.
“Yeah, Orlando does have a very nice ass,” Lee drawled, “he does all his own butt work, and why wouldn’t he?”
“See, if you’d killed me when I asked you to, I wouldn’t have had to hear that,” Orlando sighed.
“Technically, he’s right though,” Viggo chuckled softly. “You really do.”
Richard laughed at Lee’s remarks but then he turned towards them.
“So will you let us have these for the Tate Viggo?”
“God! No!” Orlando exclaimed loudly. Then he turned quickly to his lover; feeling guilty about his outburst but desperate for the other man to agree with him.
Viggo was trying not to laugh. “I’m sorry Richard, but no.”
Richard’s lips twitched. “Ah, well, I guessed as much but you can’t blame me for trying.”
Lee grinned at him and waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “I never blame a guy for trying.”
“Oh God,” Orlando groaned. “Please, please, please kill me now.”
It was nearly seven in the evening by the time Viggo and Orlando arrived back at the apartment in Bloomsbury. After a lengthy perusal of the black and white photos, which Richard had thoroughly critiqued for an apparently fascinated Lee, they had completed the rest of the exhibition with Richard still in attendance and at Cate’s suggestion called in for tapas and cocktails at one of the restaurants in the National Theatre, which was situated next door to the Hayward. When Lee began to insist Richard try things by actually feeding them to him, Cate proposed that she and Evie go late night shopping in Knightsbridge and they left.
Orlando and Viggo had persevered through to the coffee and Viggo had seemed to find Lee’s determined advances and Richard’s more reserved but still willing participation amusing. Orlando would usually have found Lee’s behaviour amusing too; maybe if his target hadn’t been Viggo’s ex, and maybe if the curator hadn’t been so utterly charming, so obviously clever, so very well dressed, and just so damned nice. He’d found himself watching the two men and debating dragging Lee away and warning him off; how fucking ridiculous was that? Viggo must have felt the tension in his body: they were sitting close together on a bench seat, and he’d put a reassuring hand on Orlando’s thigh under the table. Orlando had covered it with his own and turned to look at his lover, Viggo had grinned and rolled his eyes indicating how funny he found the situation and they had both laughed; he’d heard Richard halt in the middle of his sentence, and yet again felt sorry for him.
“Well, that was the afternoon from hell,” Orlando said as the door closed behind them.
“Yes, this whole twenty-four hours has been very… unexpected,” Viggo agreed.
“I told you, you wouldn’t enjoy last night,” Orlando said emphatically.
“The premiere was fine,” Viggo said, “pretty much like an exhibition opening, you’re just there to be seen and press flesh. You don’t expect to have fun.”
Orlando laughed and turned to embrace his lover. “I hadn’t really thought about it but that’s right and of course you’re used to that kind of thing.”
“I am,” Viggo said, briefly pressing his lips against Orlando’s.
“And talking of flesh…” Orlando cupped Viggo’s groin and squeezed, he felt his lover’s penis growing hard under his touch. “Why don’t we have an early night?”
“I think I like that idea,” Viggo said, flipping the button on Orlando’s jeans and pulling the zip down, “very much.”
They left a trail of discarded clothes as they made their way to the bedroom. Orlando managed to get naked first and collapsed forwards onto the bed as he scrabbled for the lube which was generally under one of the pillows.
Viggo followed him down and nuzzled his partner's neck before running his tongue down Orlando’s spine. “Your buttocks taste as good as they look,” Viggo purred as he licked over the firm skin.
“Spare me the reviews,” Orlando groaned, “I’ve heard quite enough about my backside today.”
He rolled on to his back, and gazed at Viggo who was hovering over him, grinning lasciviously; Orlando waved the lube at him. “Prep yourself, I want you to ride me.”
Viggo took the tube with a snort. “I get to do all the work huh? You’re just gonna watch?”
“I’ve spent the afternoon listening to your ex-boyfriend explain, in detail, what an amazing photographer you are and how you made the crease behind my knee look like the most erotic thing he’s ever seen, so yeah, you get to do all the work.”
Viggo snorted again. “I don’t think Richard said that.”
“It was something like that, I was paraphrasing.”
“Well, I do find the backs of your knees erotic actually,” Viggo squeezed a dollop of the gel into his palm and coated his fingers, then reached behind and pushed one into his body, “In fact, every bit of you has some visually erotic value.”
Orlando moved his head to the side for a better view of Viggo’s fingers; this was his idea of visually erotic. “Just shut up and concentrate.”
Viggo laughed but complied. Orlando reached for the tube and poured out some gel into his own hand then began to lazily fist his cock while he watched Viggo’s movements.
“I find your earlobes particularly erotic,” Viggo continued, his voice hitching as he added another finger. Orlando felt hot desire pooling in his belly, his own cock was already stiff and leaking, Viggo’s was filling nicely and he circled it with his free hand.
“Stop listing body parts, I want to be inside you.”
Viggo laughed but withdrew his fingers and positioned himself over Orlando. “I think I’m ready for you, hold yourself still.”
Orlando guided his cock towards Viggo’s slick opening and his lover slid down, gradually taking Orlando’s penis inside, he was still tight though and Orlando gasped at the pressure.
“Okay?” Viggo asked in a strained voice.
“Yeah,” Orlando panted back, “You feel so good, so tight.”
“Well,” Viggo chuckled, “your enormous dick is something else I find erotic.”
Orlando couldn’t help laughing too. “For fuck’s sake Viggo!”
“Come on then,” Viggo said, leaning over him, grinning. “Let’s do this.” His channel had adjusted to Orlando and he began to move, lifting himself up and then pushing back down until he was resting on his lover's thighs. “This what you want?”
“Yes, oh yes,” Orlando responded eagerly. He wrapped his hand around Viggo’s penis again and stroked it firmly in time with his movements. He wanted the other man to come first; the last twenty-four hours had been deeply unsettling and right now all he really wanted was the pleasure of watching his lover’s face as he brought him to orgasm.
It didn’t take long; Viggo let out a howl as his cock jerked and exploded, spurting warm semen over Orlando’s chest. Orlando held him steady with one hand on his hip and with the other coaxed the last drops out of his lover. It had been hard to keep up a rhythm as Viggo’s body had convulsed around his cock but he’d persevered; now he needed to come too, and although Viggo was still riding him and flexing his internal muscles it wasn’t enough.
“I need you to move up a bit,” he panted and Viggo shifted forward a little, allowing Orlando to raise his hips and giving him more room for movement; he thrust up hard and fast into the heat of Viggo’s still fluttering channel. He desperately wanted to come, to fill his lover; feel the wetness of his own release dripping down Viggo’s thighs, and that right there was certainly an erotic vision, but it wasn’t happening for him, Lee and Richard had got into his head and his climax hovered just out of reach. Viggo was still moving against him meeting his thrusts, but he bent his head now, covering Orlando’s mouth with his own. Orlando parted his lips expecting Viggo’s tongue but instead Viggo breathed across his open mouth, very slowly and very deliberately, pausing after each word. “I, love, you.”
An electric charge seemed to course through Orlando’s body and as his climax overtook him he clung to Viggo, thrashing and gasping for air as Viggo’s muscles squeezed his penis until he was completely spent. When he finally collapsed back onto the bed, shuddering through the aftershocks, Viggo braced his arms either side of his head and stayed there, laying gentle kisses against Orlando’s sweat-drenched skin until his lover’s flaccid penis slipped out of his body then he flopped onto the bed beside him and they both lay there breathing heavily.
“Feeling better?” Viggo asked eventually.
“Much,” Orlando said, reaching for Viggo’s hand. “But a bit sticky.”
“Yeah.” Viggo raised their joined hands. “Very sticky.”
Orlando laughed and reached for the box of wipes on the bedside table to clean them both up. As he returned the box there was a ping from his phone and so he picked it up.
“Oh fuck!” he groaned looking at it.
“Problem?”
“Not sure.” He studied his phone for a few moments, but hell there was no point in sugar-coating this. “Would it bother you if my ex-lover ended up fucking your ex-boyfriend this evening?”
“No, of course not, but I don’t think they’ll actually get to the fucking stage, Richard isn’t the impetuous type.”
“Really?” Orlando said. “Are you sure? Because Lee just sent me a text and he thought I’d like a picture too.” He turned his phone so that Viggo could see the screen. “I’m assuming that is Richard?”
“Ummm, yeah, it is,” Viggo confirmed, “and that’s quite a good shot, nice angle.”
“Spare me the fucking angle appreciation thing!”
“Your buddy is a fast worker.”
“I can’t believe Richard fell for his cynical, movie star, charisma, he seems so cultured.”
“Richard is very cultured but he enjoys…,”
“A bit of rough?” Orlando suggested.
“I was going to say the company of a wide range of people. And I’d hardly describe Lee as rough.”
“No, I know, he’s a decent guy, and smarter than he likes to let on. But he’s not in Richard’s league.”
Viggo started laughing. “What I’m most concerned about right now, is how much of an interest you seem to be taking in my ex-lover.”
Orlando shrugged apologetically. “It’s partly guilt. I hated him when I found out about the two of you being together but when I met him today I felt like a heartless bastard; a, for hating him when he actually seems really nice and b, because I took you away from him, and, well, I think he’s still in love with you.”
Viggo sighed. “Now I feel guilty. I knew all along how Richard felt and I did make it clear that I wasn’t in love with him, but by starting a relationship I let him hope that might change. It was really a mean and selfish thing to do. So, I guess I’m the heartless bastard here.”
Orlando rolled over so that he was gazing down at Viggo. “You’re just human,” he said, “humans crave company and they also make mistakes.”
“That’s very philosophical from a cynical movie star,” Viggo said teasingly.
“I take it back, you are a heartless bastard,” Orlando scowled at him. “But anyway, what should we do?”
“Do?”
“About our exes?”
“We do nothing, they’re both old enough to make their own decisions and they certainly look as if they’re having fun, who knows, it might work out.”
“I don’t know,” Orlando sighed, “yours really is a nice guy but mine is, well, an actor, so, you know, completely vacuous, self-involved and immoral.”
Viggo reached up and pushed the damp curls from Orlando’s forehead. “Hmmm, a year ago I might have agreed with that but now I know that some actors are really nice guys.”
“No, that’s just me,” Orlando chuckled, “the rest are all tossers.”
Viggo pulled him down so that he could kiss him, then he smiled reassuringly. “Richard is an intelligent guy, I’m pretty sure he knows that Lee is not for keeps, but, hey, if it does work out between them then I think we can say that since we introduced your ex to mine, the triumph is all ours.”
Author: Artemis Allen
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Orlando/Viggo (mention of other partners)
Beta:
silvan_lady; Thank you. But I have tampered with it because I can’t leave well alone, so all mistakes are mine.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
Notes: A very belated Birthday Gift for
gattodoro. Happy Birthday!Word Count: 5,500
Summary: Written in the - Pictures at an Exhibition - universe. If you are not familiar with this universe earlier posts can be found here. PAAE
Orlando, bleary-eyed and miserably hungover, shuffled into the spacious and, in the opinion of his fragile brain, painfully bright, sitting room of Viggo’s London apartment. He was naked except for the midnight blue silk boxers which hung loosely on, or strictly speaking off, his slender hips and as he walked he took gulps of coffee from the mug which he was gripping between hands that seemed unaccountably shaky this morning.
“What time is it?” he croaked, rubbing his forehead.
“Almost eleven,” Viggo replied in an annoyingly cheerful voice. He was reclining on the sofa reading but Orlando saw him stretch out a surreptitious hand towards his camera which was on a nearby side table.
“Don’t even think about it!”
Viggo pouted. “Awwww, but you look so gloriously wrecked.”
“I’m serious,” Orlando growled, “do not do that.”
“Or what?” Viggo asked with a playful smile.
“Or, there will be no sex tonight.”
Viggo shrugged. “There was no sex last night, I survived.”
Orlando groaned. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened last night. I don’t usually drink that much.”
Viggo’s face took on a more concerned expression. “Yeah, that’s what Cate said; she was doing quite a lot of complaining about it, she seemed to be implying that since I’m an artist and therefore obviously a degenerate, I’ve accomplished what Hollywood couldn’t, and turned you towards drink and drugs.”
Orlando groaned again. His publicist was a lovely woman and he adored her, whilst also being slightly scared of her, but she was apt to get seriously pissed off if her clients didn’t behave themselves when they were ‘on duty’ at a promotional event. He would definitely be treated to a stern lecture at their next meeting. “Oh, bugger, I’m so, so sorry. I’m sure she doesn’t blame you though. In fact, I think she wanted you there to raise the tone of the whole thing. It was just… I don’t know…” Orlando pushed a distracted hand through his messy curls.
“You were nervous?”
“Nervous?” Orlando echoed. “No, no… that’s not quite… no, why on earth would I be nervous? It wasn’t my first premiere.”
“It was our first premiere though wasn’t it?” Viggo said, placidly.
“Oh shit, did I ruin it for you? Again, I’m sorry.”
“Of course you didn’t, it was your night, I was just along for the ride. I did think you seemed on edge though but I decided maybe that’s how you always were at these things. I know you hate the off-screen public attention.”
Orlando tried to process all this, not an easy task given that his head was throbbing and he felt nauseous; but Viggo was right it had been their first time together at a film premiere and he had been ridiculously nervous; for several reasons.
Since their reunion in December, they had been trying to make up for the six months of separation by spending as much time together as possible but they already had prior work commitments which initially made this difficult. Orlando needed to make a couple of trips back to California and Viggo had to spend some time at his other studio in New York. But now Viggo was busy preparing a book, based partly on his current UK exhibition, and Orlando was rehearsing a stage play that would be opening in the West End later that year so they were both based in London for several months. Orlando had been happily enjoying this cosy and carefree domesticity in Viggo’s apartment when Cate had informed him of the upcoming UK premiere for one of his recent films and seemed to take it as a given that Viggo would accompany him.
It was only a small film backed by European, rather than American or Chinese, money so there wasn't going to be a huge amount of razzmatazz for the London Premiere which would be held at the Odeon cinema in Leicester Square; but there would still be media coverage of the event. It wasn’t the idea of them appearing together in public as a couple that had worried him though, it was more the content of the film, which was neither a potential blockbuster nor a sophisticated Art House production; and also the inevitable presence of his co-stars.
The film was a fast-paced action thriller and there was certainly a wide audience for this kind of movie; it had a decent script and he thought his own performance had been pretty good, but he didn’t think Viggo would enjoy it as it was formulaic and frequently violent. Orlando and his male co-star played government agents who pursued their criminal targets through deserted backstreets and shady nightclubs but then in their off duty lives competed for the attentions of their female boss; the inevitable sex scenes were extremely athletic and explicit. It was something that hadn’t bothered him with either of his wives; the fact that they could see him on the screen making love to other women, so he wasn’t quite sure why it bothered him now, it wasn't as if he’d been sleeping with the female lead as he had done during the romantic comedy he’d shot last year in Greece. No, unlike her character in the film, the lovely Evie had been side-lined by her male colleagues because during the principal filming and also the pick-ups they had shot the previous summer, he and Lee had been athletically shagging each other.
Orlando and Lee were old friends; they had done a few films together and they enjoyed hanging out in their downtime but there had never been anything serious between them, it was just recreational buddy fucking. Lee was a very good looking man, tall, well over six foot, and lean; he had relationships with both sexes and he didn’t make a secret of his lifestyle, Orlando had always admired this openness. He was also good company but he could sometimes be a shameless flirt and on occasion, a complete arsehole. Viggo knew about Lee and the fact that Orlando had amused himself in the man’s bed after turning down Viggo’s pleas to stay with him in England but introducing them to each other wasn’t something Orlando had ever envisaged.
He had thought about telling Viggo that, despite Cate’s expectations, he really didn’t need to attend the premiere; suggest he’d only be bored, emphasise how these things were such a drag, explain how much he hated them himself - which he really did, remind his lover about his aversion to actors in general, but that would have been at odds with their current ‘let’s do everything together whenever we can’ philosophy. So he had compromised by asking Viggo if he would like to accompany him but adding, in a deliberately upbeat tone, that he would understand if he didn’t want to, given the violence and the extended sex scenes and Lee’s presence. Viggo had laughed, said he would very much like to go, and it would be an interesting experience. Orlando had tried to look happy about it.
Being a low key affair, there hadn't been much of a red carpet but there had still been fans and press photographers lining the short route between the car and the foyer of the cinema. Viggo had waited patiently in the background as Orlando posed for pictures and signed autographs before they entered the theatre. Then during some of the more intense scenes in the film, Viggo had reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers reassuringly and Orlando had been moved by his lover’s quiet support. He reflected that in similar situations both of his wives and most of his girlfriends would have thoroughly worked the red carpet, wanting the public attention for themselves, and then often spent at least part of the screening in the ladies restroom gossiping and fixing their make-up.
There hadn’t been time for reunions before the showing and Orlando had tried to persuade Cate that he surely didn’t need to attend the post-screening reception but she had been adamant that he did, so introducing Viggo to Lee became inevitable. Evie and Lee had greeted him enthusiastically as soon as they arrived at the party and Lee immediately slung an arm around Orlando’s neck, pulled him close and whispered in his ear, “So this is the new boyfriend then, I like the look of him, would you be willing to share?”
Orlando knew this was undoubtedly a serious suggestion. “No! Fuck right off!” he replied brusquely. Lee just laughed and he grasped Viggo’s hand tightly as they were introduced and then said slyly, “I hear there are some compromising pictures of you both, I’d really like to see those.”
Viggo smiled civilly and replied. “They’re not particularly compromising, just a few partial nudes, but they’re on public display so knock yourself out.”
“On display?” Lee appeared confused, “Where?”
It seemed that Evie was better informed and she sighed loudly at Lee’s responses and said, “In an art gallery you philistine, where did you think they’d be? Viggo, is the Viggo Mortensen, you know, the photographer.” This still didn’t register with Lee so she added, “He’s very famous, on both sides of the Atlantic.”
Lee turned and surveyed Viggo with even more interest. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that.”
“S’okay,” Viggo responded with another friendly smile, “I didn’t recognise your name either.”
Orlando snorted into his champagne; he would have liked to have thrown his arms around Viggo and kiss him, but he refrained. Evie laughed delightedly. “I was planning on seeing the exhibition while we’re here in London,” she said, then she smiled hopefully at Viggo, “would there be any chance at all of a personal tour?”
Viggo shrugged. “Sure I’d be delighted to show you around.”
Orlando wasn't entirely sure that he was delighted about it. Evie was ogling Viggo almost as hungrily as Lee. “I could take you round,” he offered quickly, “it's not like I haven't seen the exhibition a thousand times, I can do a very informed guided tour.”
For the first time that evening Viggo seemed to lose his air of cool composure and turned to stare at him in surprise; obviously confused by this patent untruth. Orlando had been to the gallery precisely twice; firstly on the opening night and then a week later to view the hanging of the additional pictures that had revealed their identities as the subjects of the photos. He had subsequently avoided visiting because despite being an actor he was shy of the attention and didn’t want to run the risk of being recognised.
“Why don’t we all go together?” Lee suggested with another sly grin.
With a disgruntled huff, Orlando agreed. At least if he was there with them, Lee’s and Evie’s behaviour towards Viggo would have to be relatively restrained, hopefully. “Okay. When are you both free?”
“Tomorrow afternoon?” Evie suggested. “You know Lee never surfaces before midday.”
“If you like,” Orlando agreed resignedly. “How about three o’clock outside the Hayward? Can you find it on your own?”
“I’m sure we can,” Evie said firmly, ignoring Lee’s shrug of incomprehension, “we’ll see you there. It’ll be fun.”
Cate appeared at this point and chivvied them off in different directions to fulfil their obligations to play nice with the guests and the press. Maybe it was his own dislike of these occasions and the fact that he was enjoying the support that Viggo was so unstintingly providing, or maybe it was Lee’s predatory advances, but Orlando made sure that the older man didn’t wander off on his own and that they avoided the others as much as possible; Lee especially. Viggo hadn’t complained, maybe hadn’t even realised. Orlando tried to compensate for this possessive behaviour by occasionally pulling Viggo close and whispering in his ear some lewd descriptions of exactly what he was going to do to him when they got home. Despite this distraction technique Orlando had found the party even more of a strain than he usually did and he’d uncharacteristically over indulged in the apparently inexhaustible champagne; unsurprisingly, the much-promised rampant sex hadn’t happened.
“Do you want something to eat?” Viggo asked as Orlando was silently replaying the events of the previous evening in his head. “Late brunch or just a light lunch? We have to be at the Hayward for three to meet your friends. I already called and arranged the tickets.”
Orlando groaned some more, both at the thought of food and of exposing Viggo to Lee and Evie. “I’m not sure I’m fit for the Hayward.”
“I can go alone if you don’t feel up to it.”
“Noooo!” Orlando exclaimed.
Viggo’s brows rose in surprise. “Don’t you trust me with your friends? You did seem keen to keep me away from them last night.”
So, Viggo had noticed; Orlando sighed and slumped down beside him on the sofa. “I don’t trust them,” he said bitterly, then he set the mug down and snuggled up to his lover. “They both want to seduce you away from me.”
Viggo laughed. “I think that’s the champagne hangover talking.”
“No, it really isn’t,” Orlando said petulantly. “I know them.”
“Well, don’t worry,” Viggo kissed the top of Orlando’s head which was pressed against his shoulder, “I’m not easily seduced.”
“Yes, you are,” Orlando sniggered. “It took me all of ten minutes and Lee is much more brazen than I am.”
“Yeah, I noticed that, your ex is certainly a player,” Viggo chuckled, “but I’m sure Cate can control them.”
Orlando was about to protest that Lee wasn’t really an ex as they’d never been together in that sense but then the second part of Viggo’s statement registered. “Cate?”
“Yes, she decided to come too. I guess any outing is potentially a publicity opportunity for you all and she wants to make the most of it.”
“Well, that’s just great, this day can’t possibly get any worse.” Orlando moaned, burrowing further into Viggo’s side. “Just let me curl up on this sofa and die. I know her, she’s going to yell at me for last night.”
After a lot more coffee, a shower, food and pain-killers, Orlando felt somewhat better and was in a more positive frame of mind by the time they set off for the gallery. When they met up with Cate en route he apologised profusely and begged forgiveness; she contented herself with frowning menacingly and suggesting they have lunch sometime the following week to ‘talk’. It seemed he wasn’t being let off easily, the lecture was merely deferred.
The Hayward was quite busy for a Thursday afternoon and it amused Orlando that the gallery staff obviously recognised Viggo as he picked up the tickets and were extremely attentive to their party; although it was made clear that this was because they were Viggo’s guests and not that three of them were well-known actors. As they made their way through the exhibition Viggo gave a brief description of the pictures and where and how they had been taken, Evie listened attentively and asked questions but Lee frequently gazed about, presumably looking for the more entertaining nude pictures he had been promised. Eventually, they moved upstairs. For Orlando, the opening night was a recollection still fresh in his memory, the expectation, the nerves about seeing Viggo again and the growing realisation as he, Cate and the Beans had moved through the building, that the pictures taken in Viggo’s tiny flat in Robin Hood’s Bay were probably somewhere in this exhibition. He still hadn't been fully prepared for the sight of them though; or the sight of Viggo, so suave in evening dress; or even for his reaction to the situation, leading to his impromptu plea to Viggo to take him back supposedly in exchange for the more intimate shots, a few of which were now also included in the display.
They turned the corner that would finally bring them into the vicinity of these pictures; there was already a small crowd in front of them but as they approached Orlando was suddenly aware of Viggo's footsteps hesitating. He wondered if perhaps his lover had realised that their appearance was going to attract attention but as he scanned the viewers he spotted a tall, bearded man, immaculately dressed in an expensive grey suit and he immediately recognised him as Richard Armitage, Viggo’s ex-lover, the man he had dumped in favour of Orlando. Orlando wanted to turn and run; apparently this day was about to get very much worse; they couldn’t really halt their progress though as Lee and Evie were already in front of the photographs. Orlando felt Viggo’s hand reaching for his and he grasped it tightly.
“Is this going to be a problem?” he whispered in Viggo’s ear.
“No,” Viggo replied, “it’ll be fine.” But he didn’t sound wholly convinced.
Orlando understood his trepidation, he’d felt the same way having to introduce Viggo to Lee, and unlike Viggo and Richard, he and Lee hadn’t been a couple; he wondered if he could manage to be as composed and urbane as Viggo had been last night, and fuck, he was the actor here, it shouldn’t be beyond him, but it was all very easy when you were speaking words from a script; Orlando was out of practice at ad-libbing. Predictably as people spotted them there was an outbreak of excited whispering and gesturing. Richard turned as the noise escalated and his gaze fell upon Viggo. Orlando saw the man’s expression turn from startled, to wistful and then almost guilty and he actually felt sorry for him.
Viggo cleared his throat and after a final squeeze, dropped Orlando’s hand and stepped towards the curator. “Richard. Hi, I’m surprised to find you here in the middle of the afternoon, shouldn’t you be working?”
Richard had recovered his composure and he smiled, ruefully. “Well, this is part of my job. I need to keep up with the current work of contemporary artists.”
His voice was deep, but quiet, reserved, almost shy; and fucking sexy Orlando thought. Close up Armitage was even more handsome than in his photos.
“You know we’d like to add some of your work to our collection.” As he spoke he was facing Viggo but his eyes flickered occasionally towards Orlando.
Viggo noticed it too. “Richard, this is Orlando Bloom. Orlando, Richard Armitage. Richard is a curator at the Tate Modern.”
Orlando took a very deep breath and then stepped forward, hand outstretched, trying not to let it tremble. “Hi, pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Richard’s handshake was firm, confident. “I’ve seen some of your films.”
“Really?” Orlando was genuinely surprised, the man looked far too sophisticated for the kind of movies he generally made. Perhaps he’d misjudged him, maybe he wasn’t a stuck-up prat after all. He was finding the man’s gaze disconcerting though and he sought to divert it. “Perhaps you recognise my friends too then?” he said gesturing towards Evie and Lee who were standing nearby, both watching curiously; he wondered if they had picked up on the tension in these exchanges.
“Yes, I think I do,” Richard said, offering his hand to them as well.
Orlando couldn’t help but notice Lee’s appreciative perusal of Richard; God the man was a tart, but he noticed the flicker of amused interest in Richard’s eyes too, especially when Lee prolonged their handshake.
An elbow hit him in the ribs and he coughed to cover his squeak of surprise, before saying, “And this is Cate Blanchett, my publicist.” Cate advanced hand decorously outstretched, inviting a kiss rather than a handshake and Richard chivalrously obliged. Orlando tried to suppress a fit of nervous giggles. Cate could be almost as shameless as Lee when in the presence of an attractive man.
“So…,” Lee interjected, blatantly wanting the curator’s attention back, “would you really show these in your museum Richard?” And he moved forward to study the pictures more closely; arms folded, head tilted as if he were actually giving them some serious artistic appreciation.
“Oh, absolutely,” Richard replied, moving up beside him and mirroring his pose, “they’re amazing. See, the play of light and shade and the unusual angles?”
“Oh, yes,” Lee responded in a pensive tone. “I can absolutely see that.”
The two women jostled for position on Richard’s other side. “This one is my favourite,” Cate said waving an elegant hand towards one of the pictures.
“I think I prefer the one of the buttocks,” Evie said, also tilting her head to study the pictures.
The people who had already been viewing the display gathered behind the new celebrity audience and were avidly digesting this discussion.
“I knew this was a really, really bad idea,” Orlando hissed at Viggo. “Please just kill me right now and spare me any more embarrassment.” He was sure his cheeks were burning.
“Yeah, Orlando does have a very nice ass,” Lee drawled, “he does all his own butt work, and why wouldn’t he?”
“See, if you’d killed me when I asked you to, I wouldn’t have had to hear that,” Orlando sighed.
“Technically, he’s right though,” Viggo chuckled softly. “You really do.”
Richard laughed at Lee’s remarks but then he turned towards them.
“So will you let us have these for the Tate Viggo?”
“God! No!” Orlando exclaimed loudly. Then he turned quickly to his lover; feeling guilty about his outburst but desperate for the other man to agree with him.
Viggo was trying not to laugh. “I’m sorry Richard, but no.”
Richard’s lips twitched. “Ah, well, I guessed as much but you can’t blame me for trying.”
Lee grinned at him and waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “I never blame a guy for trying.”
“Oh God,” Orlando groaned. “Please, please, please kill me now.”
It was nearly seven in the evening by the time Viggo and Orlando arrived back at the apartment in Bloomsbury. After a lengthy perusal of the black and white photos, which Richard had thoroughly critiqued for an apparently fascinated Lee, they had completed the rest of the exhibition with Richard still in attendance and at Cate’s suggestion called in for tapas and cocktails at one of the restaurants in the National Theatre, which was situated next door to the Hayward. When Lee began to insist Richard try things by actually feeding them to him, Cate proposed that she and Evie go late night shopping in Knightsbridge and they left.
Orlando and Viggo had persevered through to the coffee and Viggo had seemed to find Lee’s determined advances and Richard’s more reserved but still willing participation amusing. Orlando would usually have found Lee’s behaviour amusing too; maybe if his target hadn’t been Viggo’s ex, and maybe if the curator hadn’t been so utterly charming, so obviously clever, so very well dressed, and just so damned nice. He’d found himself watching the two men and debating dragging Lee away and warning him off; how fucking ridiculous was that? Viggo must have felt the tension in his body: they were sitting close together on a bench seat, and he’d put a reassuring hand on Orlando’s thigh under the table. Orlando had covered it with his own and turned to look at his lover, Viggo had grinned and rolled his eyes indicating how funny he found the situation and they had both laughed; he’d heard Richard halt in the middle of his sentence, and yet again felt sorry for him.
“Well, that was the afternoon from hell,” Orlando said as the door closed behind them.
“Yes, this whole twenty-four hours has been very… unexpected,” Viggo agreed.
“I told you, you wouldn’t enjoy last night,” Orlando said emphatically.
“The premiere was fine,” Viggo said, “pretty much like an exhibition opening, you’re just there to be seen and press flesh. You don’t expect to have fun.”
Orlando laughed and turned to embrace his lover. “I hadn’t really thought about it but that’s right and of course you’re used to that kind of thing.”
“I am,” Viggo said, briefly pressing his lips against Orlando’s.
“And talking of flesh…” Orlando cupped Viggo’s groin and squeezed, he felt his lover’s penis growing hard under his touch. “Why don’t we have an early night?”
“I think I like that idea,” Viggo said, flipping the button on Orlando’s jeans and pulling the zip down, “very much.”
They left a trail of discarded clothes as they made their way to the bedroom. Orlando managed to get naked first and collapsed forwards onto the bed as he scrabbled for the lube which was generally under one of the pillows.
Viggo followed him down and nuzzled his partner's neck before running his tongue down Orlando’s spine. “Your buttocks taste as good as they look,” Viggo purred as he licked over the firm skin.
“Spare me the reviews,” Orlando groaned, “I’ve heard quite enough about my backside today.”
He rolled on to his back, and gazed at Viggo who was hovering over him, grinning lasciviously; Orlando waved the lube at him. “Prep yourself, I want you to ride me.”
Viggo took the tube with a snort. “I get to do all the work huh? You’re just gonna watch?”
“I’ve spent the afternoon listening to your ex-boyfriend explain, in detail, what an amazing photographer you are and how you made the crease behind my knee look like the most erotic thing he’s ever seen, so yeah, you get to do all the work.”
Viggo snorted again. “I don’t think Richard said that.”
“It was something like that, I was paraphrasing.”
“Well, I do find the backs of your knees erotic actually,” Viggo squeezed a dollop of the gel into his palm and coated his fingers, then reached behind and pushed one into his body, “In fact, every bit of you has some visually erotic value.”
Orlando moved his head to the side for a better view of Viggo’s fingers; this was his idea of visually erotic. “Just shut up and concentrate.”
Viggo laughed but complied. Orlando reached for the tube and poured out some gel into his own hand then began to lazily fist his cock while he watched Viggo’s movements.
“I find your earlobes particularly erotic,” Viggo continued, his voice hitching as he added another finger. Orlando felt hot desire pooling in his belly, his own cock was already stiff and leaking, Viggo’s was filling nicely and he circled it with his free hand.
“Stop listing body parts, I want to be inside you.”
Viggo laughed but withdrew his fingers and positioned himself over Orlando. “I think I’m ready for you, hold yourself still.”
Orlando guided his cock towards Viggo’s slick opening and his lover slid down, gradually taking Orlando’s penis inside, he was still tight though and Orlando gasped at the pressure.
“Okay?” Viggo asked in a strained voice.
“Yeah,” Orlando panted back, “You feel so good, so tight.”
“Well,” Viggo chuckled, “your enormous dick is something else I find erotic.”
Orlando couldn’t help laughing too. “For fuck’s sake Viggo!”
“Come on then,” Viggo said, leaning over him, grinning. “Let’s do this.” His channel had adjusted to Orlando and he began to move, lifting himself up and then pushing back down until he was resting on his lover's thighs. “This what you want?”
“Yes, oh yes,” Orlando responded eagerly. He wrapped his hand around Viggo’s penis again and stroked it firmly in time with his movements. He wanted the other man to come first; the last twenty-four hours had been deeply unsettling and right now all he really wanted was the pleasure of watching his lover’s face as he brought him to orgasm.
It didn’t take long; Viggo let out a howl as his cock jerked and exploded, spurting warm semen over Orlando’s chest. Orlando held him steady with one hand on his hip and with the other coaxed the last drops out of his lover. It had been hard to keep up a rhythm as Viggo’s body had convulsed around his cock but he’d persevered; now he needed to come too, and although Viggo was still riding him and flexing his internal muscles it wasn’t enough.
“I need you to move up a bit,” he panted and Viggo shifted forward a little, allowing Orlando to raise his hips and giving him more room for movement; he thrust up hard and fast into the heat of Viggo’s still fluttering channel. He desperately wanted to come, to fill his lover; feel the wetness of his own release dripping down Viggo’s thighs, and that right there was certainly an erotic vision, but it wasn’t happening for him, Lee and Richard had got into his head and his climax hovered just out of reach. Viggo was still moving against him meeting his thrusts, but he bent his head now, covering Orlando’s mouth with his own. Orlando parted his lips expecting Viggo’s tongue but instead Viggo breathed across his open mouth, very slowly and very deliberately, pausing after each word. “I, love, you.”
An electric charge seemed to course through Orlando’s body and as his climax overtook him he clung to Viggo, thrashing and gasping for air as Viggo’s muscles squeezed his penis until he was completely spent. When he finally collapsed back onto the bed, shuddering through the aftershocks, Viggo braced his arms either side of his head and stayed there, laying gentle kisses against Orlando’s sweat-drenched skin until his lover’s flaccid penis slipped out of his body then he flopped onto the bed beside him and they both lay there breathing heavily.
“Feeling better?” Viggo asked eventually.
“Much,” Orlando said, reaching for Viggo’s hand. “But a bit sticky.”
“Yeah.” Viggo raised their joined hands. “Very sticky.”
Orlando laughed and reached for the box of wipes on the bedside table to clean them both up. As he returned the box there was a ping from his phone and so he picked it up.
“Oh fuck!” he groaned looking at it.
“Problem?”
“Not sure.” He studied his phone for a few moments, but hell there was no point in sugar-coating this. “Would it bother you if my ex-lover ended up fucking your ex-boyfriend this evening?”
“No, of course not, but I don’t think they’ll actually get to the fucking stage, Richard isn’t the impetuous type.”
“Really?” Orlando said. “Are you sure? Because Lee just sent me a text and he thought I’d like a picture too.” He turned his phone so that Viggo could see the screen. “I’m assuming that is Richard?”
“Ummm, yeah, it is,” Viggo confirmed, “and that’s quite a good shot, nice angle.”
“Spare me the fucking angle appreciation thing!”
“Your buddy is a fast worker.”
“I can’t believe Richard fell for his cynical, movie star, charisma, he seems so cultured.”
“Richard is very cultured but he enjoys…,”
“A bit of rough?” Orlando suggested.
“I was going to say the company of a wide range of people. And I’d hardly describe Lee as rough.”
“No, I know, he’s a decent guy, and smarter than he likes to let on. But he’s not in Richard’s league.”
Viggo started laughing. “What I’m most concerned about right now, is how much of an interest you seem to be taking in my ex-lover.”
Orlando shrugged apologetically. “It’s partly guilt. I hated him when I found out about the two of you being together but when I met him today I felt like a heartless bastard; a, for hating him when he actually seems really nice and b, because I took you away from him, and, well, I think he’s still in love with you.”
Viggo sighed. “Now I feel guilty. I knew all along how Richard felt and I did make it clear that I wasn’t in love with him, but by starting a relationship I let him hope that might change. It was really a mean and selfish thing to do. So, I guess I’m the heartless bastard here.”
Orlando rolled over so that he was gazing down at Viggo. “You’re just human,” he said, “humans crave company and they also make mistakes.”
“That’s very philosophical from a cynical movie star,” Viggo said teasingly.
“I take it back, you are a heartless bastard,” Orlando scowled at him. “But anyway, what should we do?”
“Do?”
“About our exes?”
“We do nothing, they’re both old enough to make their own decisions and they certainly look as if they’re having fun, who knows, it might work out.”
“I don’t know,” Orlando sighed, “yours really is a nice guy but mine is, well, an actor, so, you know, completely vacuous, self-involved and immoral.”
Viggo reached up and pushed the damp curls from Orlando’s forehead. “Hmmm, a year ago I might have agreed with that but now I know that some actors are really nice guys.”
“No, that’s just me,” Orlando chuckled, “the rest are all tossers.”
Viggo pulled him down so that he could kiss him, then he smiled reassuringly. “Richard is an intelligent guy, I’m pretty sure he knows that Lee is not for keeps, but, hey, if it does work out between them then I think we can say that since we introduced your ex to mine, the triumph is all ours.”
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Date: 2020-08-03 12:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-08-05 07:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-08-12 06:40 am (UTC)I really love this world and thoroughly enjoyed this funny addiction :p
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Date: 2020-08-12 05:16 pm (UTC)I love these guys too.