Is He or Isn't He?
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,672
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,672
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is work of fiction! I do not know the celebrity(ies) I am writing about, and I do not profit from these writings.
II: Comfort.
Title: Is He or Isn't He?
Pairings: Orlando Bloom/Elijah Wood, Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen
Rating: Overall: NC-17. This chapter: R for obscene language and m/m tongue action.
Summary: Viggo sees that Orli isn't himself, and wants to know why.
Archive: It would be an honour, but please ask.
Beta: Nope.
Notes: To my knowledge, none of the events described in this *fiction* ever happened. That is why it is called fiction. I do not know any of these people personally (much to my chagrin), and therefore cannot make factual statements regarding any of their respective sexual orientations. There is no intent to cause harm to any person or make a profit from this writing.
Thoughts are in --...--, and emphases are written as *"¦*
Feedback and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are always welcome at: limey_sugar@yahoo.co.uk.
Want more Orli fic? Send an email to the above addy for an invite to the Limey Sugar Yahoo! Group.
****
Chapter Two: Comfort.
It had been a week since the horrid incident at Billy's flat, and the only words Orlando spoke to the Hobbits were Legolas'. He was utterly humiliated that night; it was made clear to him that he was nothing more than a joke to the people he'd thought he'd come to know over the last few months. Who else among the cast was so amused by his personal life? Did he have *any* friends here? He cringed to think with whom the three had shared their dirty little game. Had Viggo been looking at him funny? Had Sean been sniggering behind his back? At night he lay awake in bed wishing he could hop the next flight to London and say fuck it all; fuck Dom, fuck Billy, fuck Elijah . . . he would liked to have *really* fucked Elijah, but that was beside the point.
"What's the matter?" Viggo had asked after the long day of shooting. "You haven't been yourself lately."
"You mean those bastard Hobbits haven't told you? I'm bloody amazed."
"Told me what?" Either Viggo was one hell of an actor, which he was, or he honestly had no idea of what Orlando spe speaking. Orlando couldn't tell.
"Nothing. Never mind." Orlando turned to go to the makeup bus to be de-elfed. Viggo followed. He was not to be discouraged.
"Look, you prissy Elf-" Viggo stopped mid sentence when Orlando stopped, turned, and glared at him.
"Don't you *ever* call me prissy! Ever!" Orlando stormed away, hands clenched into fists, completely uncaring that this little strop did, as a point of fact, make him seem *quite* prissy.
* * * *
Later that night, after a few beers alone in his flat, Orlando stopped being angry with Viggo. The older man had called him "prissy Elf" before, and it had not bothered him in the least. But that was before he'd been made a mockery of at Billy's. He was thinking maybe he should ring Viggo up and apologise when there was a faint knocking at the door.
"Um, hey Vig," Orlando said after opening the door. "I was just about to ring you."
"You were?"
"Yeah, come in and make yourself comfortable." Orlando opened the door further to let Viggo in, and gestured toward the couch. "Fancy a beer?"
"Sure." Viggo crossed the room and sat. "You know you can talk to me, right, Orli? Tell me what's going on with you."
Orlando came into the lounge with two beers, handed Viggo one, and sat on the far end of the couch. "Yeah, alright then. Like I've got a shred of dignity left anyway."
Viggo listened as Orlando recounted the events of the previous Friday night. He could hear the pain in the young man's voice as he described the humiliation he felt. Orlando's eyes had begun to glaze over with unshed tears; when he could hold them back no longer they spilled in rivers down his cheeks.
"Come here, Orli." Viggo held his arm out to Orlando, who slid down the length of the couch to sit next to him. Viggo wrapped his arms around the slighter man, comforting him.
Orlando let himself relax in Viggo's arms. He felt suddenly better as the older man's arms enveloped him, holding him, protecting him from all the humiliation he'd suffered. Orlando pulled out of Viggo's grasp and sat staring at the man.
"Bloody Hell, Vig. Here I am, crying like a bloody schoolgirl. Christ, do I ever cease to embarrass myself?"
"You're upset. It's okay to cry Orlando. It doesn't make you-"
"Pris€ O€ Orlando finished, grinning slightly.
"Well, I wouldn't go *that* far," Viggo quipped. He knew Orlando was far from prissy; it was just fun to get a rise out of him. Viggo had spent considerable time thinking about Orli rising- or certain parts of him, in any case.
"Alright, old man, alright. Behave yourself."
"Or what?"
As Orlando opened his mouth to respond, Viggo covered it with his own. At first the younger man was hesitant, but as Viggo began teasing Orlando's tongue with his, he melted into the kiss. Viggo's arms once again folded around him, drawing him closer. It was only the need for oxygen that caused Orlando to pull away.
"Vig," Orlando breathed against the warm skin of the older man's neck, causing blood to surge to Viggo's groin.
"Hmm," Viggo murmured as Orlando's tongue traced a path from his jaw line to his collarbone and back up, all the way up to his earlobe.
Viggo's hands slid under the fabric of Orlando's t-shirt, caressing the smooth skin of his back. Orli stopped kissing Viggo's neck to pull his shirt over his head and move so he was straddling Viggo's lap. Viggo dipped his head and circled Orlando's left nipple with his tongue. He was rewarded with a small moan as he nipped lightly at the flesh.
"Do you like that?" No words from Orli in response; just another moan. Viggo was about to remove his own shirt when Orlando's phone rang.
"I'll let the machine get it Vig," he muttered. "It's probably no one important anyway." Viggo just nodded, and went back to pulling his shirt off.
"Hey Orli. It's Lij," the voice on the machine started. "I need to talk to you. I know you're home because your kitchen light is on." What he didn't say was, "and Viggo's car's at the kerb."
"Bastard! Vig, um, shit. I think I should go outside and at least get rid of him. Wait right here." As if Viggo would get up and nonchalantly stroll out of Orli's, waving to Elijah as he drove away. Not this late at night.
Orlando put his shirt back on and got up off of Viggo's lap. He hoped the shirt was long enough to cover the obvious bulge in his jeans. The last thing he needed was to give Elijah something to take back to Dom and Billy. They would be amused to find out that Viggo's car had been in front of Orlando's flat, and that Orlando had walked out with a hard-on.
Elijah was standing, leaning against his car, with a Clove in his mouth and his mobile in his hand. Orlando could smell the cigarette practically as soon as he'd opened his front door; it was a scent he would forever associate with the blue-eyed Yank, no matter where he was in his life.
"What the fuck do you want?" Orlando could not hide his anger at being the butt of the Hobbits' private little joke. "Billy and Dom wager that maybe if you came to my place, I'd let you suck my cock? What were the stakes this time, eh mate? Another bloody month of bloody fucking washing?" His hands were shaking, and it was all Orlando could do to stop himself from belting Elijah. "'Yeah, mates, Orli's queer. All you have to do is waggle your arse at him and-"˜"
"Stop, Orli. Listen. It wasn't like that. We didn't mean for you to-"
"Find out? Yeah, well, maybe next time you should mind how much you drink and keep your bloody mouth shut!" Orlando stepped back to turn and go back inside, when Elijah gripped his arm. "Don't touch me!"
"Wait. Damnit, you are *not* going back in that house until we talk about this!" Elijah dropped his cigarette and spun Orlando around to face him. "Now shut the fuck up and let me explain."
Elijah went on to confess that they had all been drinking, which Orlando knew, and that they had made a wager on his sexuality, which Orlando *also* knew. He'd wanted to confess his true feelings on the matter, but the words would not form. So, he just apologised.
"Fine. You're sorry. Now can I please go in? I was right in the middle of something." As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Orlando could have slapped himself. Elijah looked toward Viggo's car.
"Are you and Vig-"
"Say one fucking word to *anyone*, Wood, and I'll have your arse for a dartboard." He was going to say that no, he and Viggo weren't *anything*, but decided, after seeing a small flash of something in Elijah's eyes, that he'd let the little wanker think otherwise.
Elijah nodded and got into his car. As he drove away from Orlando, jealousy gnawed at him. For so long, he'd kept his feelings inside, and when he *did* finally have the balls to act on them, he'd blown it.
--Way to go, Elijah. Fuck, you're stupid.--
Elijah Wood was hopelessly in love with a boy from Canterbury.
And Elijah Wood was the only one who knew it.
To be continued . . .
Pairings: Orlando Bloom/Elijah Wood, Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen
Rating: Overall: NC-17. This chapter: R for obscene language and m/m tongue action.
Summary: Viggo sees that Orli isn't himself, and wants to know why.
Archive: It would be an honour, but please ask.
Beta: Nope.
Notes: To my knowledge, none of the events described in this *fiction* ever happened. That is why it is called fiction. I do not know any of these people personally (much to my chagrin), and therefore cannot make factual statements regarding any of their respective sexual orientations. There is no intent to cause harm to any person or make a profit from this writing.
Thoughts are in --...--, and emphases are written as *"¦*
Feedback and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are always welcome at: limey_sugar@yahoo.co.uk.
Want more Orli fic? Send an email to the above addy for an invite to the Limey Sugar Yahoo! Group.
****
Chapter Two: Comfort.
It had been a week since the horrid incident at Billy's flat, and the only words Orlando spoke to the Hobbits were Legolas'. He was utterly humiliated that night; it was made clear to him that he was nothing more than a joke to the people he'd thought he'd come to know over the last few months. Who else among the cast was so amused by his personal life? Did he have *any* friends here? He cringed to think with whom the three had shared their dirty little game. Had Viggo been looking at him funny? Had Sean been sniggering behind his back? At night he lay awake in bed wishing he could hop the next flight to London and say fuck it all; fuck Dom, fuck Billy, fuck Elijah . . . he would liked to have *really* fucked Elijah, but that was beside the point.
"What's the matter?" Viggo had asked after the long day of shooting. "You haven't been yourself lately."
"You mean those bastard Hobbits haven't told you? I'm bloody amazed."
"Told me what?" Either Viggo was one hell of an actor, which he was, or he honestly had no idea of what Orlando spe speaking. Orlando couldn't tell.
"Nothing. Never mind." Orlando turned to go to the makeup bus to be de-elfed. Viggo followed. He was not to be discouraged.
"Look, you prissy Elf-" Viggo stopped mid sentence when Orlando stopped, turned, and glared at him.
"Don't you *ever* call me prissy! Ever!" Orlando stormed away, hands clenched into fists, completely uncaring that this little strop did, as a point of fact, make him seem *quite* prissy.
* * * *
Later that night, after a few beers alone in his flat, Orlando stopped being angry with Viggo. The older man had called him "prissy Elf" before, and it had not bothered him in the least. But that was before he'd been made a mockery of at Billy's. He was thinking maybe he should ring Viggo up and apologise when there was a faint knocking at the door.
"Um, hey Vig," Orlando said after opening the door. "I was just about to ring you."
"You were?"
"Yeah, come in and make yourself comfortable." Orlando opened the door further to let Viggo in, and gestured toward the couch. "Fancy a beer?"
"Sure." Viggo crossed the room and sat. "You know you can talk to me, right, Orli? Tell me what's going on with you."
Orlando came into the lounge with two beers, handed Viggo one, and sat on the far end of the couch. "Yeah, alright then. Like I've got a shred of dignity left anyway."
Viggo listened as Orlando recounted the events of the previous Friday night. He could hear the pain in the young man's voice as he described the humiliation he felt. Orlando's eyes had begun to glaze over with unshed tears; when he could hold them back no longer they spilled in rivers down his cheeks.
"Come here, Orli." Viggo held his arm out to Orlando, who slid down the length of the couch to sit next to him. Viggo wrapped his arms around the slighter man, comforting him.
Orlando let himself relax in Viggo's arms. He felt suddenly better as the older man's arms enveloped him, holding him, protecting him from all the humiliation he'd suffered. Orlando pulled out of Viggo's grasp and sat staring at the man.
"Bloody Hell, Vig. Here I am, crying like a bloody schoolgirl. Christ, do I ever cease to embarrass myself?"
"You're upset. It's okay to cry Orlando. It doesn't make you-"
"Pris€ O€ Orlando finished, grinning slightly.
"Well, I wouldn't go *that* far," Viggo quipped. He knew Orlando was far from prissy; it was just fun to get a rise out of him. Viggo had spent considerable time thinking about Orli rising- or certain parts of him, in any case.
"Alright, old man, alright. Behave yourself."
"Or what?"
As Orlando opened his mouth to respond, Viggo covered it with his own. At first the younger man was hesitant, but as Viggo began teasing Orlando's tongue with his, he melted into the kiss. Viggo's arms once again folded around him, drawing him closer. It was only the need for oxygen that caused Orlando to pull away.
"Vig," Orlando breathed against the warm skin of the older man's neck, causing blood to surge to Viggo's groin.
"Hmm," Viggo murmured as Orlando's tongue traced a path from his jaw line to his collarbone and back up, all the way up to his earlobe.
Viggo's hands slid under the fabric of Orlando's t-shirt, caressing the smooth skin of his back. Orli stopped kissing Viggo's neck to pull his shirt over his head and move so he was straddling Viggo's lap. Viggo dipped his head and circled Orlando's left nipple with his tongue. He was rewarded with a small moan as he nipped lightly at the flesh.
"Do you like that?" No words from Orli in response; just another moan. Viggo was about to remove his own shirt when Orlando's phone rang.
"I'll let the machine get it Vig," he muttered. "It's probably no one important anyway." Viggo just nodded, and went back to pulling his shirt off.
"Hey Orli. It's Lij," the voice on the machine started. "I need to talk to you. I know you're home because your kitchen light is on." What he didn't say was, "and Viggo's car's at the kerb."
"Bastard! Vig, um, shit. I think I should go outside and at least get rid of him. Wait right here." As if Viggo would get up and nonchalantly stroll out of Orli's, waving to Elijah as he drove away. Not this late at night.
Orlando put his shirt back on and got up off of Viggo's lap. He hoped the shirt was long enough to cover the obvious bulge in his jeans. The last thing he needed was to give Elijah something to take back to Dom and Billy. They would be amused to find out that Viggo's car had been in front of Orlando's flat, and that Orlando had walked out with a hard-on.
Elijah was standing, leaning against his car, with a Clove in his mouth and his mobile in his hand. Orlando could smell the cigarette practically as soon as he'd opened his front door; it was a scent he would forever associate with the blue-eyed Yank, no matter where he was in his life.
"What the fuck do you want?" Orlando could not hide his anger at being the butt of the Hobbits' private little joke. "Billy and Dom wager that maybe if you came to my place, I'd let you suck my cock? What were the stakes this time, eh mate? Another bloody month of bloody fucking washing?" His hands were shaking, and it was all Orlando could do to stop himself from belting Elijah. "'Yeah, mates, Orli's queer. All you have to do is waggle your arse at him and-"˜"
"Stop, Orli. Listen. It wasn't like that. We didn't mean for you to-"
"Find out? Yeah, well, maybe next time you should mind how much you drink and keep your bloody mouth shut!" Orlando stepped back to turn and go back inside, when Elijah gripped his arm. "Don't touch me!"
"Wait. Damnit, you are *not* going back in that house until we talk about this!" Elijah dropped his cigarette and spun Orlando around to face him. "Now shut the fuck up and let me explain."
Elijah went on to confess that they had all been drinking, which Orlando knew, and that they had made a wager on his sexuality, which Orlando *also* knew. He'd wanted to confess his true feelings on the matter, but the words would not form. So, he just apologised.
"Fine. You're sorry. Now can I please go in? I was right in the middle of something." As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Orlando could have slapped himself. Elijah looked toward Viggo's car.
"Are you and Vig-"
"Say one fucking word to *anyone*, Wood, and I'll have your arse for a dartboard." He was going to say that no, he and Viggo weren't *anything*, but decided, after seeing a small flash of something in Elijah's eyes, that he'd let the little wanker think otherwise.
Elijah nodded and got into his car. As he drove away from Orlando, jealousy gnawed at him. For so long, he'd kept his feelings inside, and when he *did* finally have the balls to act on them, he'd blown it.
--Way to go, Elijah. Fuck, you're stupid.--
Elijah Wood was hopelessly in love with a boy from Canterbury.
And Elijah Wood was the only one who knew it.
To be continued . . .