Tokowhà

AN: Thanks so much for the lovely feedback, guys! If you want to make us happy, keep it coming! ;-) Next chapter written by Anima. We hope you enjoy it
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“Tomorrow Sean will be here. I can hardly wait. Are you looking forward to seeing him, too? Where do you wanna sit? Over there, in the corner?“ The young man in baggy pants and washed-outed shirt gestured wildly with his arms. When he didn’t get an answer he turned around to his companion. “What is it? Do you want to sit somewhere else today? Is something wrong?“

"I’m just waiting for you to be quiet so I can get a word in edgeways. My goodness, how can it be that one single Elf jabbers so much?” A little smile appeared on the narrow lips of Viggo Mortensen when he saw the surprised expression in Orlando’s eyes.

“I talk too much? That’s not true at all. You are just mute as a maggot most of the times. I’m only trying to entertain you a bit. Otherwise you'd be brooding over your awful poems. I’m just the right one to distract you from your clouded thoughts.“

“Yes, and twice a day I praise the Lords who are responsible for the existence of the one and only Orlando Bloom. Now sit down already, you fidget, or else we won’t get anything to drink.” With a soft thump, Viggo pushed Orlando onto the bench in the corner that was a very snug place in the dim bar.

“Are you aching again?“ The wince that the young man tried to suppress didn’t escape Viggo.

“A little. Why is it always me of all people who falls onto the stones? By the way, I hate that horse. This nag zeroes in on killing me. Did you see those sneaky eyes? I think this beast allied with Karl. He’s such an arrogant guy, it’s beyond all bearing. It’s only too well that we don’t have to shoot scenes together very often, or I would go overboard.”

Viggo had to laugh. “Indeed, one creature on Arda that seeks the Elf’s life. Is there such a thing? But don’t get worked up. Karl isn’t that bad. It’s not easy for him to blend in into our community that existed long before he came along. Don’t judge him too hard. Come on now, turn around, I’m going to knead you a bit.“ Viggo let his long, slim fingers glide over the slender back in order to detect the small, evil knots which indicated the muscle hardenings that tortured Orlando.

“One glass of milk and a tea, please”, Viggo ordered. The waitress was used to the sight of these crazy movie people. Most of the times they got up to some wicked things. It wasn’t an extraordinary thing that Mr. Mortensen attended to the young man with so much care.

“I don’t want milk”, Orlando griped, “I want a beer!”

“Orlando, we argued about that already. Milk is important for your bones, and since you don’t eat any meat you need the milk for compensation.”

“Yes, daddy, but please without honey”, Orlando singsang between sighs of comfortable feelings. Viggo’s fingers felt fantastic. Orlando lowered his eyelids to half-mast. He wished it were Sean’s fingers that worked him. Sean, whose strong hands he wanted to feel on his naked skin. Sean, who he had been yearning for so badly during the last damn long months. The man he desired more than anyone and who knew how to take him until he felt faint. This passion had fascinated him. And that was exactly what he wanted to feel again. He wanted to feel alive. Not halfway dead, like in the evenings after the exhausting shoots when all he could do was creep into his bed on all fours.

Since Viggo once had caught him spending the night on the floor of his trailer because his back was hurting so much that he couldn’t stand to stay in the bed any longer, a weird relationship had developed between them. Viggo watched over his well-being like a hawk. As if he was Viggo’s son. Maybe it really was because Viggo missed his son so much that he saw a substitude in Orlando.

“Yes, I’m happy too that Sean will be with us again soon.” Viggo’s low voice pulled Orlando from his thoughts. “Finally an intelligent human being who will listen to my poetry. Finally someone who will walk me over at chess. Yeah, I’m looking forward to this awful Englishman. Although I fear that everything’s going to be even more turbulent. Sean won’t grant me any rest, I will have to watch soccer games and talk about sports all night long.” Viggo sighed theatrically.

Thoughtfully, he watched the man in front of him who left his back to the massaging hands so trustingly. This live wire was so young and full of dreams and desires. In many areas still very innocent. Orlando had not been disappointed much, not by fate and above all not by love. He had got ten to know Orlando better during the last months and understood that behind the lively, self-confident masquerade there was a sensitive soul which was harmed easily.

And he knew his friend Sean. Oh, they knew each other for almost two decades now. From the very beginning, there had been this invisible bond of friendship and appreciation that could not be destroyed by time or long distances.

Sean had unburdened himself to him already months ago. Had told him about the "slip-up“, as he called it. The amorous tête-à-tête with Orlando. Viggo had listened as he always did when his mate bared his soul to him. This time, he hadn’t known advice. This time, the “problem” was too close to his own feelings. This time, he could have beaten up his friend for this thoughtless action.

Orlando was a goddamned child! A child with deep feelings. Those big brown eyes always aroused his protective instinct. How could Sean sleep with this child? And while he couldn’t keep his dick in check, he had very good control over his emotions. Not a spark of love could he give to Orlando. No, Sean strictly split sex from friendship. Either the one or the other. Perhaps it was due to this concept that his marriages had failed?

A large glass of hot, steaming milk and a glass with greenish tea were put down in front of them.

“If your silly tea didn’t taste as disgusting as this white slobber I would steal it from you. Man, I’m thirsty.”

“Be a good boy, as soon as you’ve drunk your milk you can have something different, I promise.”

“Yeah, I’m going to order a nice, big, cool beer!” Lurking, Orlando glanced at Viggo. And there was already the expected protest. But before the older man could say one word, Orlando cut him off.

“Yes, I know, I can’t handle too much, tomorrow morning we’ll have to give our best in front of the cameras, and you won’t be dragging me from the toilet if I don’t listen to you now.” Orlando grinned. “I just wanted to see how long it would take until you start to give me a sermon... Hey, what’s that?”

“What’s what?“ Confused, Viggo looked at the hand that was waving about in front of him.

“Well, that”, Orlando leaned forward as swift as an arrow, entwined around Viggo and smooched his colleague without inhibition. Viggo suppressed the impulse to close his own arms around the slender body in front of him. But he didn’t back away, either. He knew that Orlando loved it when he showed resistance, and usually they engaged in a small wrestling match. But today he didn’t feel like it.

Tomorrow he would see Sean again. On the one hand he was happy about it. But on the other hand he feared for Orlando. He knew his friend, and he knew how rejecting Sean could get when his nerves were on edge. And Orlando and his cuddle attacks could really be a pain in the neck.

“Listen, don’t expect too much of Sean. He has to settle down again. And the jet-lag is probably going to give him a hard time after the flight. Maybe it would be good if you left him alone for a short time.”

Orlando nestled even closer to Viggo. He enjoyed the physical closeness. He needed the contact of skin as much as the air he was breathing. Everyone he liked got hugged and kissed. He had always been like this. Maybe something he inherited from southern ancestors who long ago vanished in the darkness of the past.

He liked the different reactions to his straightforward nature. Viggo always surprised him. It was simply unpredictable whether Orlando got a hug, or caught himself a playful slap and got plucked from his friend’s body, or maybe even was presented with one of Viggo’s mindblowing kisses.

Today Viggo didn’t seem eager to play along. Orlando let go of him in disappointment.

“You will see, when Sean is finally here, then... then... He just has to realize that we are meant to be together. Yes, you will see, he will listen to me. Now don’t look so grave. Give us a chance. Hey, or do you want Sean for yourself, old man?“

“No, Orlando, not really, I am no masochist, I prefer to stay single instead of having my heart broken by some actor.”

“Hey, you’re unfair, you are an actor yourself. How can you say that?”

“That’s exactly why. Because I am an actor myself. Do you want some water?“ Viggo changed the subject abruptly. Orlando just couldn’t be convinced. "I have to leave for the restrooms, I’ll be back in a minute,... don’t go away!” He winked at his young friend.

“Of course I won’t go away. If you could fetch me some cocaine on your way?” Orlando pulled a desperate face and started to fidget on his seat. "Please Viggo, I need it, I can’t handle it anymore, you have to give me something, please, I’ll do everything you want!” Orlando managed a very convincing twitch.

“Nice, sweetie, very nice try. But I want you just the way you are. Maybe I’ll give you some drugs later on.” Viggo clawed one hand into the washed-out shirt and pulled the younger one close. “Wait here!”

Orlando nodded with an intimidated face and an expression in his eyes that caused a prickle to run through Viggo.

The older man rose, stretched, threw one last glance towards Orlando and then walked straight through the pub to the restrooms.

Orlando grinned. With no one could he fool around as good as with Viggo. The tall Dane automatically played along with Orlando’s crazy ideas, and often they had delighted their colleagues with improvised little performances which most of the times were of amazing quality.

He liked Viggo very much. With him, he could talk about everything. Even when he got steamed up about such arrogant assholes like Karl Urban he derived comfort and advice from Viggo. It was a real pity that the man who played Aragorn wasn’t his type at all. With this man he could be happy.