Be My . . . 2/13

[raptureinbloom.livejournal.com]

 Title: Be My . . .
Author: Lisa
Rating:NC-17
Pairing: OB/VM
Summary: Orlando and Viggo learn to be together and apart
Feedback: Yes Please
Disclaimer: we wish



~*~ I wonder how you sleep.
I wonder what you think of me~*~

True to his word Orlando continued being a dirty flirt. He sexualized everything with a glance or the addition of a word. Or sound effect. Everything he said or did could be taken in multiple ways. He didn’t work at it, that’s just the way he was. Mid way through the long shoot everyone had grown accustomed to sex-speak and it was the preferred method of communication. Most of the time Viggo was unaffected. The times when he wasn’t seemed to grow with frequency. Those times tormented him. He vacillated between wanting to run away and the overwhelming urge to grab Orlando and torture him in much the same way he was being tortured.. He’d make Orlando beg. He’d make him suffer in such delicious ways. So many nights Viggo had lain awake with visions of Orlando at his mercy. He couldn’t count the self imposed orgasms he’d had to those visions. But Viggo knew that’s not how it would play out. No matter how it happened, if it happened, it would be weakness. Giving in to baser desires that would be no good for anyone past the initial rush.

Viggo hid it well. Orlando had no idea what his very presence did to the other man. When they spoke no more of the offer Orlando went on. There were men and women more than willing sate his needs. He availed himself of what treats were at hand. A little bit of this, some of that, a little more of this. In his eyes he and Viggo had become close friends. Orlando looked up to him. Viggo dropped pieces of wisdom and guidance like crumbs to a hungry mouse. Orlando took it all in. He envied the way Viggo embodied Aragorn. He couldn’t do that. He had to shed Legolas’s refinement. He wore him like a slightly misfitted second skin. Orlando’s exuberance had to be given free reign. When Viggo rid himself of Aragorn the replacement was artistic . . . poetic. That was the Viggo that took endless pictures that adorned their mirrors to the point where the mirror was rendered useless.
Words were succinct and meant to be felt, not read. To be whispered against skin. Skin that Viggo knew he would never possess.

Helm’s Deep was hell on everyone. The night, the rain, the darkness that permeated everything. When Peter yelled cut for the last time a cheer went up that sounded like thunder. That night they hit the bar at a dead run. The reunification with the hobbits lightened the darkness. The shots of tequila and whiskey blurred the sharp edges. Orlando was touch hungry. He craved it. He moved between people hugging and kissing them in greeting, appreciation, or some sense of shared experience. Viggo left early. Even he wasn’t sure if it was Orlando’s presence near him, or the lack of it when he attached himself to someone else that was the problem. Jealous when he was away. Danger when he was near. Extremes. He needed to find his middle ground.

Orlando saw Viggo down the shot and head toward the door. He cut him off and grabbed his arm, “You can’t leave now, mate, we’re just getting started.”

Sex. The words. The touch. The visual. Sex. And Viggo knew it was all in his mind. “Not tonight, Bloom. I’ve had my fill without the feel of you.”

With a confused look on his face Orlando watched him walk out the door. He went back to the others. It was Ian who asked him what had happened with Viggo. “Unclear. He was speaking poetic and I’m too pissed to decipher it. Something about me and not feeling and having his fill. I don’t fucking know. Dark cloud of doom.” Orlando waved his hands over his head in a flourish.

Ian smiled, “We covet most what we see everyday.”

“Oh fuck me, more poetic ramblings. If this is what drunk over 40 looks like I’ll be requesting euthanasia at 39.”

“Or stop drinking.”

“Yeah, that’s as likely as me marrying a girl.”

“You will do that, my friend. At least for appearances.”

“And won’t that make my mum proud.” He did a final shot, “I’m off.” He grabbed his crotch suggestively, “Taking my toys and going home.”

~*~*~*~

The next morning Viggo showered away the drunken thoughts of another restless night. He walked naked into his bedroom. He didn’t see Orlando sitting in the middle of his bed arms wrapped around his legs pulled tight to his chest, “You clean up well for a filthy human.” He sniffed the air, “Smell fresh as a daisy.” Orlando didn’t even pretend to hide where his eyes roamed.

Viggo jumped at the sound of the accented voice then turned his back to him walking toward the dresser, “You’ve taken to breaking and entering?”

“One of my many skills.” Viggo missed the perfect head nod. “Actually, you left the door unlocked. Should be careful, never know who might wander in. Some stalker.”

Viggo pulled on his underwear refusing to acknowledge the nightmare perched in the middle of is bed. “You’re more dangerous than any stalker.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

Orlando laughed in that maddeningly sexy way, “Is that what last night was about? Had your fill of not feeling me. Now it makes sense. Are we really still there?”

Viggo turned with a weary sigh, “Why are you here, Orlando?”

He’d thought they’d passed this. He had. It really hadn’t crossed his mind that Viggo hadn’t. He felt his cock twitch with the fun to be had. He got a certain thrill with the hunt. Orlando stretched out his lean legs, crossed them at the ankle, and leaned back on his hands, “I came to see if you were alive. If you were alright after your spontaneous and cryptic departure.”

Viggo swept his hands from his head to his feet, “I’m alive. I’m well. Now you can rest easy.”

Orlando sat up and dangled his legs over the edge of the bed, “When’s the last time you rested easy?”

Viggo shook his head, “Get off my bed.”

“Umm,” Orlando’s nose crinkled, “I don’t want to.”

Lovely, Viggo thought to himself, Orlando the petulant school boy has arrived. His ass needs a good paddling. He closed his eyes and willed his body to respond, “Orlando . . .” He didn’t know what to say.

From the bed he heard a low moan, “I like the way you say my name when you can’t breathe.” Viggo never opened his eyes. This was far easier than Orlando ever imagined. And although he’d dropped the reality long ago, the fantasy had lived on. “Do you think of me? Here. On your bed.”

“Yes.” Viggo wasn’t sure the voice that answered was his. He knew better.

As Orlando stood he peeled his t-shirt off and dropped it on the floor. Viggo still stood, eyes closed. He couldn’t see Orlando, but he felt him. Too close. “Have you come screaming my name?”

“Yes.” Hours ago.

Orlando silently pushed off his sweat pants. “All those things you’ve wanted to do to me. You can.” He moved behind Viggo and whispered, “I’ll let you.”

Viggo groaned and absent mindedly pulled at the front of his boxers. Orlando moved Viggo’s hand away and wrapped his own around Viggo’s cock. His eyes sprang open. The sight before him added anger to the mix. Presumptuous little fucker. Naked. He was naked and stroking Viggo’s cock. All with that innocent look of his. What an actor. Viggo’s eyes left Orlando’s face and slowly traveled over is body. A body he’d seen before, but never allowed himself the weakness to linger over. He knew he was defeated.

“There’s no crime in giving yourself over to pleasure. Or me. You’ll find they’re really the same thing.”

Viggo’s eyes locked onto the dark brown ones in front of him, “But I’m sure I’ll burn in hell for it.” With that his fate was sealed.

Not another word was spoken. Viggo dove into Orlando’s mouth with an unforgiving hunger. An appetizer. He shoved Orlando away from him, landing him on the bed. Viggo yanked open the drawer of the nightstand and retrieved the foil package. As he sheathed himself, Orlando moved to his hands and knees. He watched with a smile as Viggo climbed on the bed and knelt behind him. The cry of pain and pleasure as he shoved his cock inside Orlando’s tight ass wasn’t nearly enough to save him. The only support Viggo offered was a rough hold on Orlando’s hips. Orlando collapsed to the bed. His cock rubbed against the sheets with every thrust. Viggo fucking him, the contact with is prostate, and the harsh friction against wanting flesh. He exploded from it all. But not Viggo. He kept up the hard pace long after Orlando had orgasmed. When he did come it was with a long tortured scream.

When Viggo caught his breath he looked at the man underneath him and wondered if this was the beginning or the end. He held onto the top of the condom as he withdrew from Orlando’s body, tossed it into the garbage, and lit a cigarette.

Comments

[dreamerswings42.livejournal.com]

OMG - cock sure Orlando, giving in to temptation Viggo. Love this hot story! More? Thanks!

[galor5.livejournal.com]

He walked naked into his bedroom. He didn’t see Orlando sitting in the middle of his bed arms wrapped around his legs pulled tight to his chest

mmmm, two things I would love to find when I walk into my bedroom.. a nekkid Viggo and Orlando sitting on my bed! :O)