But He Flirts With Everyone, Doesn't He?
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
3,704
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
3,704
Reviews:
6
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.
Two
Title: But He Flirts With Everyone, Doesn't He?
Pairings: Orlando Bloom/Elijah Wood
Rating: NC-17.
Summary: Orli's feet are in Elijah's bathtub. Told from Elijah's point of view. Fluffy.
Archive: Limey Sugar; all others please ask.
Beta: Thanks to my lovely American friend Angela who helped me in keeping Elijah from sounding too British. You're the best, love!
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.
*~*~*~*~*
Fuck. Fuuuuck.
"Orli?" I am sitting on the floor outside my bathroom door because I'm too drunk and confused to stand. "Orli, come on man, open the door. Please." He turns the water on to drown out the sound of my voice so I bang on the door. Dom and Billy aren't helping me because I made them go home.
"It's not locked, you stupid git."
No it isn't. My bathroom door doesn't have a lock on it. Never occurred to me just to open the damn door. When I do, I see him, sitting on the edge of the tub. Facing the tile. His feet are in my bathtub and the water is still running.
"Why are your feet in my bathtub?" That's all I can say.
"I wasn't sure where to put them."
That seems like a good reason. "Okay."
I try to sit on the edge of the tub next to Orli, only facing the right way, but I slide into the water. It's just me and Orli's feet, which lead to Orli's legs, which lead to-
"You're getting wet." Thank you, Mr Obvious. Of course I'm getting wet. I've just landed arse-first in a tub of water.
"Yeah, I am." I just look at him, not quite sure what happens now. "Orli, um, you kissed me." As if he didn't remember. Judging by the look on his face, he doesn't want to.
"I kissed you. Yes, I did." His hands are gripping the side of the tub so hard that his knuckles are as white as the enamel.
"I'm not gay, Orlando. I'm sorry."
Suddenly the air is unbreatheable and the earth stops turning and the only sound in the entire world is the sound of water rushing out of the tap and into the bathtub and over Orli's shoes and under me and-
No, it's not the only sound. There's another sound; one that's a lot like a grown man screaming at the top of his lungs.
Orli says its okay and we're still mates, but I can barely hear him because I'm screaming. I'm screaming because he fancies me like Billy says in his stupid accent, and I didn't kiss him back.
*~*~*~*~*
What time is it and why am I in the bathtub with my clothes on with the water running? What the hell is that noise? Oh, it's Orli crying. Orli is crying in my bathroom. No, *I'm* crying in my bathroom. Orli's just staring at me.
"Orli?"
"Lij," hesitation. "I love you."
"Oh." I reach up to turn the water off, although it probably doesn't matter now since I'm drenched anyway.
"Oh."
"Kiss me."
"But-"
"Kiss me. Like, now."
He does. He leans down and I reach up and somewhere in the middle, our lips meet. Now he's on top of me in the bathtub because he's still drunk and fell in. I feel him hard against me, and now I'm hard too and somewhere in the back of my mind there's a voice telling me that I want to fuck Orlando Bloom. And that I might love him back.
When did I fall in love with *Orli*? Five months ago? Five minutes ago? I don't really think it matters *when*, just that I am.
His hands are in my hair, holding my head still while he kisses me so that I don't change my mind and run away. I think. No, wait, his hands are moving now; they're going down my chest and under my shirt. He's got my nipples in his fingers and he's *twisting* them. It should hurt, but it feels so fucking good.
What feels better is the way he keeps grinding against me, his dick against my dick. Damn this wet denim. I want to take my jeans off and feel his skin- Oh, he's saying something.
"Fuck me, Elijah." The three most beautiful words I've heard since ten minutes ago when he said he loved me. "I want this," he grinds down, "I want *you*."
Soggy jeans are harder than hell to take off. Especially in the confines of a bathtub. Why we are still in the tub is beyond me, but hell, so is most of the night. Orli eventually succeeds is removing them, and his too, and is now reaching for my shaving lotion. Shaving lotion? Oh, yeah, lube. I make a mental note to go buy some. Or maybe I could ask Billy and Dom.
He's rubbing this stuff all over my dick and I think I'm gonna fucking come just from that. Then he stops. He's getting on top of me. On. Top. Of. Me.
*~*~*~*~*
Tight. Hot and tight. Those are two words that will now pop into my head every time I look at Orlando. When I close my eyes at night, I will forever see his beautiful face the way it is at this moment. Because at this moment, he's riding me and I'm jerking him off and he's about to come. I am too.
I feel Orli clench around me and I lose it. No words can describe what I?m feeling now; I'm just feeling very *Orlando*. Very much like Orli has invaded every single cell of my body, although it's *me* who's buried deep inside of *him*, coming so hard my head hurts.
My hand is suddenly sticky and I realise that it's because Orli came too. His eyes are rolled back in his head and he is breathing hard.
"Elijah." He kisses me again, but not the tongue tornado kisses from earlier. No, this kiss is an Orlando-fancies-Elijah-like-Billy-said-in-his-stupid-accent kiss.
"Let's get out of the tub."
*~*~*~*~*
I woke up this morning with an Englishman in my bed. A brown-eyed, mohawked Englishman. He kissed me and fixed me breakfast in my own kitchen and he washed my hair in the shower. Just like yesterday and the day before and the day before.
We are trying to hurry to the makeup trailers, but something keeps delaying us. Oh yeah, he's flirting with the caterer. Am I worried? No, because he flirts with everyone.
But he *fancies* me.
END.
Pairings: Orlando Bloom/Elijah Wood
Rating: NC-17.
Summary: Orli's feet are in Elijah's bathtub. Told from Elijah's point of view. Fluffy.
Archive: Limey Sugar; all others please ask.
Beta: Thanks to my lovely American friend Angela who helped me in keeping Elijah from sounding too British. You're the best, love!
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.
*~*~*~*~*
Fuck. Fuuuuck.
"Orli?" I am sitting on the floor outside my bathroom door because I'm too drunk and confused to stand. "Orli, come on man, open the door. Please." He turns the water on to drown out the sound of my voice so I bang on the door. Dom and Billy aren't helping me because I made them go home.
"It's not locked, you stupid git."
No it isn't. My bathroom door doesn't have a lock on it. Never occurred to me just to open the damn door. When I do, I see him, sitting on the edge of the tub. Facing the tile. His feet are in my bathtub and the water is still running.
"Why are your feet in my bathtub?" That's all I can say.
"I wasn't sure where to put them."
That seems like a good reason. "Okay."
I try to sit on the edge of the tub next to Orli, only facing the right way, but I slide into the water. It's just me and Orli's feet, which lead to Orli's legs, which lead to-
"You're getting wet." Thank you, Mr Obvious. Of course I'm getting wet. I've just landed arse-first in a tub of water.
"Yeah, I am." I just look at him, not quite sure what happens now. "Orli, um, you kissed me." As if he didn't remember. Judging by the look on his face, he doesn't want to.
"I kissed you. Yes, I did." His hands are gripping the side of the tub so hard that his knuckles are as white as the enamel.
"I'm not gay, Orlando. I'm sorry."
Suddenly the air is unbreatheable and the earth stops turning and the only sound in the entire world is the sound of water rushing out of the tap and into the bathtub and over Orli's shoes and under me and-
No, it's not the only sound. There's another sound; one that's a lot like a grown man screaming at the top of his lungs.
Orli says its okay and we're still mates, but I can barely hear him because I'm screaming. I'm screaming because he fancies me like Billy says in his stupid accent, and I didn't kiss him back.
*~*~*~*~*
What time is it and why am I in the bathtub with my clothes on with the water running? What the hell is that noise? Oh, it's Orli crying. Orli is crying in my bathroom. No, *I'm* crying in my bathroom. Orli's just staring at me.
"Orli?"
"Lij," hesitation. "I love you."
"Oh." I reach up to turn the water off, although it probably doesn't matter now since I'm drenched anyway.
"Oh."
"Kiss me."
"But-"
"Kiss me. Like, now."
He does. He leans down and I reach up and somewhere in the middle, our lips meet. Now he's on top of me in the bathtub because he's still drunk and fell in. I feel him hard against me, and now I'm hard too and somewhere in the back of my mind there's a voice telling me that I want to fuck Orlando Bloom. And that I might love him back.
When did I fall in love with *Orli*? Five months ago? Five minutes ago? I don't really think it matters *when*, just that I am.
His hands are in my hair, holding my head still while he kisses me so that I don't change my mind and run away. I think. No, wait, his hands are moving now; they're going down my chest and under my shirt. He's got my nipples in his fingers and he's *twisting* them. It should hurt, but it feels so fucking good.
What feels better is the way he keeps grinding against me, his dick against my dick. Damn this wet denim. I want to take my jeans off and feel his skin- Oh, he's saying something.
"Fuck me, Elijah." The three most beautiful words I've heard since ten minutes ago when he said he loved me. "I want this," he grinds down, "I want *you*."
Soggy jeans are harder than hell to take off. Especially in the confines of a bathtub. Why we are still in the tub is beyond me, but hell, so is most of the night. Orli eventually succeeds is removing them, and his too, and is now reaching for my shaving lotion. Shaving lotion? Oh, yeah, lube. I make a mental note to go buy some. Or maybe I could ask Billy and Dom.
He's rubbing this stuff all over my dick and I think I'm gonna fucking come just from that. Then he stops. He's getting on top of me. On. Top. Of. Me.
*~*~*~*~*
Tight. Hot and tight. Those are two words that will now pop into my head every time I look at Orlando. When I close my eyes at night, I will forever see his beautiful face the way it is at this moment. Because at this moment, he's riding me and I'm jerking him off and he's about to come. I am too.
I feel Orli clench around me and I lose it. No words can describe what I?m feeling now; I'm just feeling very *Orlando*. Very much like Orli has invaded every single cell of my body, although it's *me* who's buried deep inside of *him*, coming so hard my head hurts.
My hand is suddenly sticky and I realise that it's because Orli came too. His eyes are rolled back in his head and he is breathing hard.
"Elijah." He kisses me again, but not the tongue tornado kisses from earlier. No, this kiss is an Orlando-fancies-Elijah-like-Billy-said-in-his-stupid-accent kiss.
"Let's get out of the tub."
*~*~*~*~*
I woke up this morning with an Englishman in my bed. A brown-eyed, mohawked Englishman. He kissed me and fixed me breakfast in my own kitchen and he washed my hair in the shower. Just like yesterday and the day before and the day before.
We are trying to hurry to the makeup trailers, but something keeps delaying us. Oh yeah, he's flirting with the caterer. Am I worried? No, because he flirts with everyone.
But he *fancies* me.
END.