Is He or Isn't He?
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,674
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,674
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.
III: Viggo?
Title: Is He or Isn't He?
Pairings: Orlando Bloom/Elijah Wood, Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen
Rating: Overall: NC-17. This chapter: NC-17. I use the word "fuck" entirely too often, methinks. Oh well. I rather like it.
Summary: Viggo and Orlando have sex. Elijah has bad dreams. Seems like Lij got the short end of the stick. Or no stick at all if you want to be literal.
Archive: Limey Sugar; all others please ask.
Beta: Nope.
s: s: 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 Three: Viggo?
When Orlando went back into his flat, Viggo was still sitting on the couch. He had his beer in his hand and was staring into space. His mind was still trying to convince his body that Orlando didn't need sex tonight; he needed the comfort of a friend. His body refused to believe him.
"Hey old man," Orli said, breaking Viggo's reverie. "Lij just came to apologise."
"Ah. So, are you friends again?"
"Yeah, probably. I'll need time to get over it, but I think we'll patch things up." Orlando walked over to where Viggo was sitting and kneeled on the floor in front of him. "Where'd we get to?"
"I don't think we should do this right now, Orli. I didn't come over for this." Viggo finished his beer and put the empty bottle on the end table.
"So what you're saying is you don't want me," Orlando said flatly. "I wish people would quit bloody teasing me. I don't fucking need this."
"I *do* want you. It's just that right now isn't the best time. You're upset, and I would be taking advantage of a situation."
"I'm a big boy, Vig. I can decide when I do and do not want to be fucked. And I *want* to be fucked. Hard."
Orlando's words went straight to Viggo's cock. Apparently, his body and Orlando's had been conspiring against him.
"I think I can manage that," Viggo choked on the stupid words, his brain refusing to function. How many times had he daydreamt of slamming Orli into his mattress, into next week?
"Right, then."
Viggo stood and headed into the loo; Orli went down the hall toward his bedroom. He was trying to remember if he still had those condoms that his friends had given him as a joke before he'd left London. Had he used them all with that girl he'd met at the club that one night? He hoped not. The last thing Orlando wanted was another delay this evening.
--Good. Two left. Now to find some lube. Got it.--
He placed the items on the night table and went to find Viggo.
* * * * *
Viggo stood in Orlando's bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. He was old enough to be Orli's *father*, for fuck's sake.
"Y'ok, Vig?"
"Uh, yeah." Viggo opened the door to see Orli standing in the hall, his arousal plainly visible through his jeans. "God, Orlando, you're fucking hot."
"I know." Orli grinned.
"And modest."
"Quite. Now, are we going to stand here talking all bloody night, or are we going to get to it?"
"Get to it, huh?" Viggo cocked his head slightly. "Sounds terribly romantic when you put it that way."
* * * * *
Quick and dirty. That's what Orlando wanted tonight. There would be time for romance later, if that's what Viggo wanted, but tonight he just wanted to be fucked, good and proper. He wanted to be on his hands and knees on the bed, the floor- wherever- as long as Viggo was behind him, pounding him into oblivion. Pounding all thoughts of that arsehole Elijah out of his brain.
Arsehole. Elijah. Elijah's arsehole. Orlando's cock sliding in and out of Elijah's-
--Not now. Think about Viggo. Didn't you want Viggo anyway?--
The young man led the older man to his bedroom and began undressing them both; his hands made short work of t-shirts and button flies, shoe laces and socks and boxers. He placed kisses up and down Viggo's chest, winding his tongue around rose-coloured nipples and down Viggo rip rippled stomach.
"Jesus," Viggo whispered, his hands on Orli's shoulders.
"No, *Orlando*. I sincerely doubt Jesus would get up to mischief like this." Orlando licked Viggo from tip to base and back again. "But it's bloody sick to talk about *him* when you're about to-."
"Do this?" Viggo gripped Orli by the arms, raised him up, and then tossed him on the bed. He grabbed the lube and one condom off the bed table, and flipped Orlando over onto his stomach.
"Cor' -" Orlando couldn't finish his thought as Viggo plunged one lubed finger inside him, curving it just enough to hit his prostate. He pushed back against Viggo in an attempt to drive the digit further into his body.
"Oh, so you like that?" Viggo added another finger.
"Just fuck me! I can't stand this torture!"
Viggo did just that. He removed his fingers from the tightness that was Orli and replaced them with his cock, easing in until he was completely within the young man's body, and the pulling back out s-l-o-w-l-y. That was the last slow movement Viggo made; the rest of his thrusts were hard, fast, and deep, with Orlando pushing back against them.
Viggo made sounds like "Oh, Oh, Oh," as he drove deeper and deeper; Orli responded with noises that sounded remotely like "Harder! Harder!" It was hard to tell exactly *what* he was saying, as his face was buried in a pillow.
When Viggo came, he gripped Orlando's hips so hard he left small oval bruises on the flesh. Orli would see these the next day and laugh. Viggo didn't cry out; he just bent his head and screwed his face up into the contorted orgasmic grimace that people make at the moment of climax.
Orlando, on the other hand, muttered what could have been "bloodyfuckinghellelijahjesuschrist" into the pillow when Viggo reached around and jerked him off, his cock still embedded in Orli's arse.
* * * * *
A few miles away, in his own bedroom in the dark, lay Elijah, staring up at the ceiling. He could not seem to find sleep. He tossed and turned all night long; one moment he was too cold, then he was too hot. When he did manage to nod off, images of Viggo and Orlando in various sexual positions crowded his dreams: Viggo fucking Orli as Orli lay on his back with his legs spread wide, Orlando using that wonderfully talented tongue of his on Viggo's more intimate places. The idea of Orlando rimming Viggo was painfully arousing, but the thought of Orlando *not* rimming Elijah was just plain painful. At least it was to Elijah.
--Was it worth it, Lij? Was it worth having Dom do your washing for a month?--
Elijah answered his own question as a single tear slid down his cheek and into his ear.
To be continued. . .
Pairings: Orlando Bloom/Elijah Wood, Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen
Rating: Overall: NC-17. This chapter: NC-17. I use the word "fuck" entirely too often, methinks. Oh well. I rather like it.
Summary: Viggo and Orlando have sex. Elijah has bad dreams. Seems like Lij got the short end of the stick. Or no stick at all if you want to be literal.
Archive: Limey Sugar; all others please ask.
Beta: Nope.
s: s: 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 Three: Viggo?
When Orlando went back into his flat, Viggo was still sitting on the couch. He had his beer in his hand and was staring into space. His mind was still trying to convince his body that Orlando didn't need sex tonight; he needed the comfort of a friend. His body refused to believe him.
"Hey old man," Orli said, breaking Viggo's reverie. "Lij just came to apologise."
"Ah. So, are you friends again?"
"Yeah, probably. I'll need time to get over it, but I think we'll patch things up." Orlando walked over to where Viggo was sitting and kneeled on the floor in front of him. "Where'd we get to?"
"I don't think we should do this right now, Orli. I didn't come over for this." Viggo finished his beer and put the empty bottle on the end table.
"So what you're saying is you don't want me," Orlando said flatly. "I wish people would quit bloody teasing me. I don't fucking need this."
"I *do* want you. It's just that right now isn't the best time. You're upset, and I would be taking advantage of a situation."
"I'm a big boy, Vig. I can decide when I do and do not want to be fucked. And I *want* to be fucked. Hard."
Orlando's words went straight to Viggo's cock. Apparently, his body and Orlando's had been conspiring against him.
"I think I can manage that," Viggo choked on the stupid words, his brain refusing to function. How many times had he daydreamt of slamming Orli into his mattress, into next week?
"Right, then."
Viggo stood and headed into the loo; Orli went down the hall toward his bedroom. He was trying to remember if he still had those condoms that his friends had given him as a joke before he'd left London. Had he used them all with that girl he'd met at the club that one night? He hoped not. The last thing Orlando wanted was another delay this evening.
--Good. Two left. Now to find some lube. Got it.--
He placed the items on the night table and went to find Viggo.
* * * * *
Viggo stood in Orlando's bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. He was old enough to be Orli's *father*, for fuck's sake.
"Y'ok, Vig?"
"Uh, yeah." Viggo opened the door to see Orli standing in the hall, his arousal plainly visible through his jeans. "God, Orlando, you're fucking hot."
"I know." Orli grinned.
"And modest."
"Quite. Now, are we going to stand here talking all bloody night, or are we going to get to it?"
"Get to it, huh?" Viggo cocked his head slightly. "Sounds terribly romantic when you put it that way."
* * * * *
Quick and dirty. That's what Orlando wanted tonight. There would be time for romance later, if that's what Viggo wanted, but tonight he just wanted to be fucked, good and proper. He wanted to be on his hands and knees on the bed, the floor- wherever- as long as Viggo was behind him, pounding him into oblivion. Pounding all thoughts of that arsehole Elijah out of his brain.
Arsehole. Elijah. Elijah's arsehole. Orlando's cock sliding in and out of Elijah's-
--Not now. Think about Viggo. Didn't you want Viggo anyway?--
The young man led the older man to his bedroom and began undressing them both; his hands made short work of t-shirts and button flies, shoe laces and socks and boxers. He placed kisses up and down Viggo's chest, winding his tongue around rose-coloured nipples and down Viggo rip rippled stomach.
"Jesus," Viggo whispered, his hands on Orli's shoulders.
"No, *Orlando*. I sincerely doubt Jesus would get up to mischief like this." Orlando licked Viggo from tip to base and back again. "But it's bloody sick to talk about *him* when you're about to-."
"Do this?" Viggo gripped Orli by the arms, raised him up, and then tossed him on the bed. He grabbed the lube and one condom off the bed table, and flipped Orlando over onto his stomach.
"Cor' -" Orlando couldn't finish his thought as Viggo plunged one lubed finger inside him, curving it just enough to hit his prostate. He pushed back against Viggo in an attempt to drive the digit further into his body.
"Oh, so you like that?" Viggo added another finger.
"Just fuck me! I can't stand this torture!"
Viggo did just that. He removed his fingers from the tightness that was Orli and replaced them with his cock, easing in until he was completely within the young man's body, and the pulling back out s-l-o-w-l-y. That was the last slow movement Viggo made; the rest of his thrusts were hard, fast, and deep, with Orlando pushing back against them.
Viggo made sounds like "Oh, Oh, Oh," as he drove deeper and deeper; Orli responded with noises that sounded remotely like "Harder! Harder!" It was hard to tell exactly *what* he was saying, as his face was buried in a pillow.
When Viggo came, he gripped Orlando's hips so hard he left small oval bruises on the flesh. Orli would see these the next day and laugh. Viggo didn't cry out; he just bent his head and screwed his face up into the contorted orgasmic grimace that people make at the moment of climax.
Orlando, on the other hand, muttered what could have been "bloodyfuckinghellelijahjesuschrist" into the pillow when Viggo reached around and jerked him off, his cock still embedded in Orli's arse.
* * * * *
A few miles away, in his own bedroom in the dark, lay Elijah, staring up at the ceiling. He could not seem to find sleep. He tossed and turned all night long; one moment he was too cold, then he was too hot. When he did manage to nod off, images of Viggo and Orlando in various sexual positions crowded his dreams: Viggo fucking Orli as Orli lay on his back with his legs spread wide, Orlando using that wonderfully talented tongue of his on Viggo's more intimate places. The idea of Orlando rimming Viggo was painfully arousing, but the thought of Orlando *not* rimming Elijah was just plain painful. At least it was to Elijah.
--Was it worth it, Lij? Was it worth having Dom do your washing for a month?--
Elijah answered his own question as a single tear slid down his cheek and into his ear.
To be continued. . .