vigorli

Happy Birthday

laura_iskra! Hope your vacation and birthday are the absolute best!

Title: Finally
Author: Ranmaru
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Miranda's going to be disappointed, Viggo and Orli come to an agreement, and Bean might be losing sleep in the future. (EDIT NOTE: I now know that Sean Bean is NOT Irish (dammit) so pay that reference no mind...)
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, just playing.

“Oh, uh, sorry, I’ll just…” Orlando began backing out of the door, his eyes looking everywhere but at the couple on the small couch.

Viggo jumped up, stretching out an arm to stop his friend and roommate from leaving their on-set trailer. “No! Uh, it’s okay,” he said, flushing when he realized how rude he was being to Miranda who had been sitting beside him. Very close beside him. It wouldn’t have been so bad if her body language hadn’t screamed ‘Take me!’ and her lips hadn’t kept pursing as if she was waiting for a kiss. He really liked her, she was an amazing actress and wonderful person but he wasn’t interested that way and the reason was trying to disappear through the metal trailer door.

“Orli, it’s okay, I was just going.” Miranda gracefully rose to her feet and stepped closer. “You’ll be at the pub later?” she asked Viggo softly, her hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe,” he answered, not wanting to make a commitment. He blinked when she brushed a kiss across his cheek.

“Okay.” She smiled brightly at Orli who stepped aside so she could leave.

The young man wouldn’t meet Viggo’s eyes as he let the door close behind him. He stood there, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets, shoulders hunched, and stared at the ugly door mat Viggo thought looked like a regurgitated Thanksgiving meal.

“Orli, this is your trailer too,” he teased, falling back to the couch which suddenly seemed wider without Miranda’s presence. “Stop lurking.”

“I’m not lurking.” Orlando looked up and shrugged, one hand leaving his pocket so he could chew on the side of his thumb.

“Imitating a cigar Indian then?” Viggo rolled his eyes at the Brit’s confused look. “American cultural reference.”

“Oh.” Orli shuffled over and sat on the other end of the couch. “So, you and Miranda…?”

“Are only friends.”

“Does she know that?”

Viggo slouched down so he could lay his head back on the cushion and not concuss himself on the fake wood panel wall behind him. “I’m trying to let her down easy.”

“How’s that?”

“I won’t be going to the pub tonight. She’ll be disappointed and ask why and I’ll say something came up.”

“What will come up?”

“You?” Viggo winced at the unsubtle innuendo. “I mean, maybe you and I could do something that doesn’t involve going to the pub.” Keep digging, old man, he thought silently, watching Orli’s cheeks redden.

“Vig, I’m not that kind of girl,” Orli said, his voice shaky as he laughed. He was gripping his hands together tightly in his lap and very much not looking at his friend.

Viggo felt a pang of disappointment, possibly cutting deeper than what Miranda would be feeling later, if he’d read her right. He really hadn’t meant to make Orli think he was being propositioned but then again, maybe he had. He was man enough to admit to being attracted to the Brit, almost embarrassingly so, but he hadn’t meant for it to become public knowledge. If Bean and now Orli could be considered ‘public.’ Bean had figured it out almost before Viggo.

“You need to control your eyes if you don’t want anyone to know,” the Irishman had said one day on-set. “Lads or lasses, it’s all gossip and it’s all newsworthy. Remember that.”

Viggo had avoided Orli for days after that, paranoid and on edge each time they were on camera, damning himself over and over because he knew without a doubt that he couldn’t hide what he felt for the younger man, not even behind Aragorn’s mask. It didn’t help that he secretly believed the Ranger and Elf to have been lovers in the past. He wondered if he was using that as an excuse in case he was asked. He could hear Peter now.

“Hey Vig? Any reason why Aragorn’s looking at Legolas like he’s a tasty Elf treat?”

“They’re getting it on behind the scenes Pete. Don’t you read between the lines?”

Viggo cleared his throat to cover a half-hysterical laugh. “I knew there was something off about you. A girl, huh?”

“Hermaphrodite, actually. Still waiting for my boobs to spring.”

“The mental visual of that boggles the mind,” Viggo said, blinking and still seeing breasts on slinky springs attached to Orli’s chest. “Tits on springs.”

“Anyone else would be focusing on the penis-vagina aspect, but not you.” Orli chuckled and turned to the side to face Viggo. He laid one arm over the back of the couch and if Viggo moved his head just a few inches over, he’d feel the tips of Orli’s fingers against his cheek. He stayed still and cursed his rebelling libido.

“I live to be different,” Viggo agreed. He scrubbed his hands over his face then let them drop to the cushions. “I think I’m going to turn in early.”

“I thought we were going to do something?” Did Orli sound disappointed?

“Can it involve not moving?” Viggo sighed, feeling older than he was, and much too old for the man beside him.

“I borrowed a couple movies from Lij yesterday. We could watch one.” Orli walked his fingers closer to Viggo and poked the older man in the temple. “Kung-fu or porn?”

Viggo hmmed as if thinking over the question. “Now that’s a hard one.”

“No pun intended?”

He hadn’t even noticed. “Yeah.” Viggo could still feel the circle of Orli’s fingertip and he absently rubbed his temple, his arm jerking when he felt the drag of Orli’s fingers against the back of his hand. He hadn’t realized the younger man hadn’t moved away. He felt himself harden and mentally cursed. It was like being fifteen when even a wall looked good to his randy dick.

“Viggo?”

“Uh, why don’t you put the movie in and I’ll…be right back.” After he jerked off in the bathroom that might as well have no walls for all of the soundproofing capabilities it had. Viggo managed to not look like he was suffering from teenaged hormones as he ambled over to the bathroom. Cool and relaxed, that’s me, he repeated in his head. Cool and relaxed.

He was almost pathetically grateful that it only took four hard tugs on his cock before he came, the sound of his come hitting the toilet water thunderous and so obvious he reached over and ran the water in the sink and tried to remember he was a forty-two year old.

Orli was watching the previews when Viggo emerged from the bathroom. The Brit had taken off his shoes and was sitting cross-legged on the floor, dangerously close to where Viggo had been sitting on the couch. The Dane weighed his options, estimated the length of couch and Orli’s position, calculated the length of the movie and how close the younger man would be to Viggo’s crotch to how long Viggo could last before he had to take another bathroom break.

If he could have gotten away with crying like a bitch, he would have.

Orli grinned up at him as he approached. “Like Jackie Chan?”

“Never seen any of his movies,” Viggo confessed, enjoying the look of shock and horror on Orli’s face. “I don’t own a television,” he reminded the other man.

“Yeah, but don’t you ever go to the movies? Or watch telly at a friend’s house?”

“Yes, but Jackie Chan isn’t usually playing at the time.” Viggo thought about crossing his legs to keep them farther away from Orli but nixed that idea fairly quickly. Maybe he could lie down? That would put Orli’s head near his chest or upper stomach. He’d run the risk of falling asleep but having the younger man in such a convenient position for a blow job was doing amazingly spastic things to Viggo’s nervous system. He slapped his hand down on his bouncing knee and grinned weakly at Orli’s look. “Could you move for a sec?” Orli cocked his head to the side but obligingly scooted forward so Viggo wouldn’t kick him in the head as he pulled up his legs. He pressed his stocking feet against the paneling at the other end and curled one arm under his head, letting the other rest a little awkwardly in front of him.

“I could get your pillow,” Orli volunteered. Viggo nodded and wondered if he looked old to Orli. Not older, but just plain old. As in too old. As in take care of the senior and wipe up his drool old. He snorted and batted the pillow away when it was dropped on his head.

“Thanks,” he said dryly, stuffing the feather pillow under his head and getting comfortable. Orli smiled innocently and turned around to sit, and Viggo noticed that the Brit’s neck was pale and looked soft and his fingers were creeping closer before he could stop himself.

“Jackie Chan’s broken every bone in his body,” Orli said, startling Viggo and he pulled his hand back.

“Sounds painful.”

“But he keeps at it.”

Viggo thought about the stories he’d heard of Orli’s own adventures and the resulting injuries. “Like you?”

“I’m not out to break bones. Well, not many. I guess it’s just… I admire someone who does what he loves and doesn’t mind the consequences. Or, I mean, doesn’t let the bad stuff overwhelm the joy of it all.” Orli reached up and over his head, feeling around on the cushion.

Viggo swallowed and inched his hand forward until strong fingers grabbed him, placing his hand on Orli’s neck. Orli patted his hand then let his own drop away. Now what? the Dane wondered, then questioned his sanity as he began to gently caress the soft skin with his pinky. His thumb was touching the cotton of Orli’s t-shirt. In for a penny, he thought and tucked his thumb and slid it under the collar of Orli’s shirt. He heard the Brit make a sound, not a squeak and not a moan but some kind of combination and a shudder ran through the younger man’s body.

“Orli?” he whispered, one second away from hauling the Brit up and showing him what a tongue was really used for.

“Just…” Orli sighed, a happy and contented sound. “Just watch the movie.” He touched Viggo’s hand, just a light caress, but Viggo felt it like an electrical current down his spine. Just watch the movie? Was torture some weird kind of British foreplay?

“Okay,” he said, as if waiting for the punchline.

“Bean won’t be back until late so we have a while, yeah?”

Viggo shifted forward until he could whisper in Orli’s ear. “What I have in mind will take a while.”

“Not on the first date,” Orli whispered back, his voice breathless. “Behave.”

“This is a date?” Viggo asked, pulling back in surprise. A date? Didn’t dates involve dinner and drinks? Going out for a movie?

“This is a date,” Orli confirmed. “If you’re good, I’ll let you kiss me before bed.”

“Uh, are you going to sleep with me?” Viggo inquired hopefully.

“No. First date, remember?”

“Will you sleep with me on our second date?”

“Depends on the kiss.” Orli tilted his head back and grinned.

“Can I kiss you now so you can tell me?” Viggo pushed up onto his elbow and looked down at Orli.

“What if you’re a bad kisser? That would ruin the rest of our date,” Orli pointed out. He turned so he was kneeling and facing Viggo, his elbows on the cushions.

“If I’m a bad kisser, then it’s up to you to teach me how to kiss well.”

“Hmm…” Orli bit his lip.

“It would require a lot of practice.” Viggo couldn’t take his eyes away from that luscious mouth, those white teeth pressing into delicate skin, darkening the light pink to red. He sucked in a breath when those vicious little teeth released their prisoner and Orli licked his lips, wet tongue running over the tiny grooves imprinted in the skin.

“So if you’re already a good kisser we can’t practice?”

“There’s always room for improvement.” Viggo reached out and wrapped his hand around the back of Orli’s neck, pulling the smiling man closer until he could feel warm puffs of breath against his face. The Brit smelled like peanuts. A thought occurred to him. “I thought you weren’t that kind of…girl?”

“I don’t fuck on the first date, Vig,” Orli clarified. “I do, on the other hand, like making out a little. Kissing is a good place to start.” He closed the distance between them, pressing his slightly parted lips to Viggo’s.

Viggo’s mind blanked and he couldn’t find the right words to describe how amazing the kiss felt other than ‘nice’ and ‘soft’ and he didn’t close his eyes. Orlando did, and something about that made Viggo feel warm, as if he’d just had a shot of whiskey. When Orli pulled back, his eyes fluttered before opening and Viggo wanted to touch those thick lashes but he was afraid he’d poke the Brit in the eye because his hand was shaking. All of him was shaking.

I barely tasted him, he sighed silently, in awe and melting inside.

“I think,” Orli began as he crawled up onto the couch and sprawled over Viggo. “I think I’m that kind of girl.”

Viggo began to laugh and the motion made Orli bounce a bit. “Slut,” he mumbled, shifting until Orli got the hint and lay between the older man’s legs.

“Lucky for you.” Orli frowned down at Viggo. “How long have you been wanting to kiss me?”

“I don’t know,” Viggo answered honestly. “Probably since we met.”

“I used to dream you climbed into bed with me, dressed as Aragorn.” Orli snickered. “Let’s just say Leggy was one horny elf until I got myself under control.”

“How’d you do that?”

“Had a wank between takes, when possible. Or a wank before the take. I am so in touch with my right hand, my left is starting to feel neglected.” Orli waved his left hand. “Wish I was ambidextrous.”

Viggo stared up at his handsome friend. “I had a…wank…when you put the movie in,” he confessed, mentally slapping himself as soon as the words left his mouth.

Orli gaped until Viggo reached up and tapped his chin. The Brit grinned. “I was playing hard to get.”

“I’m playing Dirty Old Man. Want to play with my candy cane little boy?” Viggo leered and wiggled his eyebrows, delighting in Orlando’s laughter. “We could play Hide the Banana.”

“How about we just find a curtain to hide behind and fuck until morning.” Orli got up and held out his hand, pulling Viggo up and into a loose embrace. The older man nipped at the Brit’s neck, smiling when he felt Orli’s hands clutching at the back of his shirt.

“What about Bean?” Viggo picked up his pillow, keeping one arm around Orli, and walked his soon-to-be-lover backwards towards their bunks. He tossed the pillow down and lowered his head for a quick kiss.

“He’s married and I’m not into threesomes.” Orli sank down onto Viggo’s bed and pulled off his t-shirt. “He can sleep on the couch,” he added and tossed his shirt to the end of the bed.

“Okay.” Viggo grinned as he undressed. “Should I say that I’m pretty new to this man-on-man thing?”

“Kind of figured that one out. Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” Orli cupped Viggo’s behind and nuzzled at the base of his cock. “Under my pillow,” he said before giving Viggo’s dick a lick. The Dane grabbed at the edge of Orlando’s mattress, since the Brit had taken the bunk over his own.

“Um…” There had been something Viggo was supposed to be doing but that curious little tongue was quickly driving sanity from his brain.

“Pillow,” Orli repeated. Viggo grabbed the pillow and tossed it over his shoulder. Laugher was muffled against his hip. Blue eyes caught sight of his prize and he grabbed the lube and condom.

“You were planning this?” Viggo bent down and crawled into bed. Orli got the blankets situated and they lay on their side, the tube and condom lay on the mattress between them.

“I bought this condom a month ago because of something you said.” Orli picked up the square packet and tapped it against his chin.

“I was being that obvious?” Viggo ran his hand over the bristles that made up Orli’s hair. They were softer than he’d imagined them to be.

“You were drunk. It was the night we finished the Moria battle scene, remember? We walked back to my house?”

“I remember the walk. I remember crashing on your couch.” Viggo frowned as he tried to recreate the night to no avail.

“I’d given you a blanket and pillow and you made up the couch and got comfortable and I asked if you needed to be tucked in.” Orli leaned over and grazed Viggo’s mouth with his own. “And you said,” he whispered, “’why can’t I sleep with you?’”

Viggo stopped breathing.

“And I almost said you could but it would have been a mistake and fucked everything up. You passed out while I was still standing there in a moral battle with myself.”

“Jesus,” Viggo said on an exhale. “You never said anything.”

“Neither did you, and I started to think it had been a joke, or maybe you’d thought I was someone else.” The Brit shrugged and snuggled closer. “I still kept this condom though. Sleep with it under my pillow every night. Just in case.”

“And I’ve been sleeping under you getting turned on by every squeak of the bunk. We’ve wasted the whole damned month?”

“I-“ Orli froze as the trailer door opened.

“Vig? Orli?” Bean’s voice had the couple in bed groaning in annoyance. The blonde entered the sleeping area and stared down at Viggo’s occupied bunk. “Did I interrupt something?” By his tone and the grin, Viggo could tell the Irishman could give a good goddamn if he did.

“I was about to get laid,” stated Orlando, his accent overly pronounced and a little too haughty for someone butt naked in bed. “Go away.”

“Sorry, early shoot, need my beauty sleep, y’know.” Sean picked up the pillow on the floor, tossed it at his friends and reached up and pulled over the curtain, plunging Viggo and Orli into darkness. “And I might love you guys,” came the cheerful disembodied voice, “but I’ll still be pissed off if I hear you two fucking.”

“We’ll be quiet,” Viggo promised, snickering with Orli at Bean’s muttered cursing. The Dane sighed and felt around for the lube. “I guess we won’t be needing this tonight.”

“Can I still sleep down here?” Viggo could barely hear Orli’s voice.

“It’ll be a tight fit,” he warned but he really didn’t care. Pass up an opportunity to hold Orli in his arms all night? Viggo hoped he wasn’t that stupid. He tucked the lube and condom under his pillow for safekeeping.

“We’ll manage.” The younger man hummed thoughtfully. “I usually sleep on my back.”

“And you snore!” called out Bean with a laugh.

“Piss off!” Orli growled. Viggo sighed but he was smiling. If he had to look at the bright side, at least Bean wasn’t offended or disgusted by his roommates’ new understanding.

It took a few minutes to get situated, the squeaking of the bunk hidden by snuffled of laughter and Bean’s exasperated sighs. Finally Orli was on his back, Viggo half draped over him. The older man had a feeling his right arm was going to hurt like a son of a bitch in the morning but the rhythmic thumping of Orli’s heart was making his eyelids heavy and his brain fuzzy.

“Night,” he managed to mumble, rubbing his cheek over warm skin.

“Night,” Orli whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Viggo’s head.

“It’s about fucking time,” Bean noted, his bunk squeaking as he turned over.

Viggo couldn’t have agreed more.

END