Birthday Fic: Sword Polishing

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

 For queen_mean_jean. Hope your day was special, my dear! This was written during a thunderstorm, but miraculously, there's no rain in it whatsoever. There is, however, my attempt at phone sex. Let me know if I'm any good. *wink*

Happy Birthday!

Title: Sword Polishing
Author: ranmaru
Rated: Hard R
Summary: Viggo's polishing his sword in LA, Orlando's stressing over the play (In Celebration) in London. Wackiness ensues.
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, don't sue.

“Hello?”

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey.” Viggo smiled and closed his eyes for a second. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

 

“I keep meaning to make tapes to send to you.”

 

“Sex tapes?”

 

“Sort of. Maybe on my iPod. Jerk off and send it to you.”

 

Viggo felt horny just thinking about it. “Works for me.”

 

Orli chuckled. Viggo returned to the livingroom and the project he’d been working on when the phone rang.

 

“Did I interrupt anything?”

 

“Just polishing my sword,” Viggo said, not thinking about what he was saying as he sat Indian style on the floor.

 

“I...I can’t. Bloody hell, Vig. That’s just too easy.”

 

Viggo laughed and looked at the sword he’d lovingly laid across his lap. “Thank you for not going there.”

 

“The things I do for you.”

 

“How’s the play coming?”

 

Orlando gave a sigh-groan. “I’m so tired.” He drew the word tired out into a whine.

 

“Then why are you calling me? Go to bed.”

 

“I am in bed.”

 

Viggo set the sword aside and stretched out on the floor. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Are you naked?”

 

“Almost.”

 

Viggo unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans one handed. “Can you get naked?”

 

Orli snuffled a laugh and there was a sound of the mattress squeaking and cloth rustling. “Ahhh, now I’m naked. Nice breeze coming in through the window.”

 

“Bollocks to the wind, eh?”

 

“If I roll over, I’ll be bum to the wind.”

 

“I’m jealous of the wind.”

 

“Lame, but thanks anyway.”

 

Viggo grinned. “Hold on a sec.” He set the phone beside his head and reached down to push his jeans and underwear down to have better access to his hardening cock before picking up the hand-held again. “I hope Henry doesn’t decide to drop by.”

 

“Where are you?”

 

“Livingroom. Middle of the floor, sword in hand.”

 

“Hm, the sword that feels so good thrusting in and out…in and out…”

 

Viggo chuckled as he cupped his balls. “That’s the one.”

 

“I like that sword.”

 

“I like your sword.”

 

Orli made a sound like a sneeze before he started laughing. “This is playing out like a bad porn.”

 

“Come on baby. Grab your fuck stick and ram it in me!” Viggo cracked himself up and he loved hearing Orli’s unrestrained laughter, even if it was only over the phone while they were separated by thousands of miles.

 

“Fuck…stick!” Orli gasped. “The hell?”

 

“Don’t ask.”

 

“Honestly, I’ve never seen a porn movie.”

 

Viggo blinked up at the ceiling. “You’re kidding.”

 

“Dom and Billy rented a shitload once on set and we were going to watch them but I passed out before they turned on the telly.”

 

“You were going to watch porn with Dom and Billy? When the hell was this?”

 

“Before you joined the cast and I was getting laid on an hourly basis.”

 

Viggo sighed. “I think the New Zealand air was good for my libido.” He grinned and gave his cock a slow stroke from base to tip, thumb rubbing at the wet head.

 

“Vig, your libido is pretty amazing for someone so old.”

 

“Hey! Damned brat!”

 

“Hm, maybe I should stroke your ego in apology.”

 

“How about I stroke my ego and you stroke your ego and let me listen to you come.”

 

“The walls are kind of thin. I can’t get loud.”

 

“Babe, just your breathing makes me hot.”

 

“Yeah?” Orli breathed the word and closed his eyes at the long-distance moan in his ear. “Viggo…” He wanted to use both hands but couldn’t make himself let go of the cell phone, as if by holding it close to his ear he could pretend he was touching Viggo somehow. Touching him. Being touched…

 

“I should be there,” Viggo whispered, his breath hitching. “I should-“

 

“Want you here,” Orli moaned, hips rising as he pushed into his fist. “Want your hands on me.”

 

“On you…in you.” Viggo licked his palm and let out a huff of breath at the feel of hot, wet skin around his dick. His palm was too rough to be Orlando’s hand now…but back on the set of Rings when he’d been practicing with a bow, sword, and horseback riding… “I-I’m coming-“

 

“Already?” Orli yelped then laughed at the cursing from his lover.

 

“Coming to see you, brat,” Viggo grumbled, hand slowing to grip a little tighter on the down-stroke.

 

“You can fuck me to sleep.” Orli reached over to the bedside table for the lube he’d left out the night before from his solo activities. He let the slick drip down his cock and hissed at the cold. “Suck me off between acts backstage.”

 

“You could suck me off between acts. Go back onstage with your lips red and swollen. Everyone would ask but you couldn’t say a word. You’d be hard in front of the audience, and I’d be watching you, waiting for the curtain to fall. Waiting to take you back to your flat, pull down your jeans and…”

 

“Please, christ, please…” He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, his labored breathing, the slick rub of skin on skin that never sounded this sexy when he was alone.

 

“Close?” Viggo squeezed his eyes shut, the harsh breathing in his ears doing more for him than any photograph or movie. His lover, even so far away, brought to the edge of orgasm, fuck the thought of it made him…made him…

 

“Yeah, yeah I’m co-“ Orlando clenched his teeth, a half-moan half-whine escaping his throat, the upper half of his body bowed forward. He felt the hot splash of come on his chest and stomach, running over his knuckles, and shivered, muscles shaking and slowly, slowly relaxing. Then he heard Viggo.

 

“Beautiful, god Orli, I love you …” A sigh, a long, drawn out sigh that made the backs of Orlando’s eyes prickle because he wasn’t there to watch his lover come. He could see it, Viggo’s neck arched, mouth open. The quiver in his thighs and his curled toes.

 

In Los Angeles, lying on the livingroom floor, Viggo didn’t feel the usual calm that followed an orgasm. No warm body to snuggle close. No comforting weight on his chest, or silky curls to tickle his skin. It was like waking up after a one-night stand and looking into the eyes of a stranger: empty and meaningless.

 

“Viggo?” Orlando wiped at his chest and stomach with the sheet before tossing it back and sitting up. He suddenly felt the need to take a shower, to get clean.

 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m booking a flight when I hang up.”

 

Orlando felt his shoulders slump and he let out a laugh that sounded too much like a sob. “It’s just stress.”

 

“I have to be back in two weeks but I’m coming to you. Stress or not, you need me there.”

 

“Yeah.” Orlando stood and walked to the bathroom, flicking on the light and squinting at his reflection in the mirror. Pale face, dark rings under his eyes. “Yeah.”

 

“I haven’t written a word in weeks,” Viggo confessed. He sat up and made a face when he looked down at the mess on his t-shirt. “I sleep for shit, I snapped at Henry the other day, and… I need my fucking Muse.”

 

Orlando smiled at himself, saw the way it reached his eyes and wondered if he ever smiled like this for anyone else. “Your fucking Muse is waiting. Impatiently.”

 

“Not for long, babe.”

 

The line went dead and Orlando laughed. Then he turned on the shower.

 

End