Is He or Isn't He?
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,675
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,675
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.
IV: Nothing Ventured . . .
Title: Is He or Isn't
Pairings: Orlando Bloom/Elijah Wood, Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen
Rating: Overall: NC-17. This chapter: R for language. I use the word "fuck" entirely too often, methinks. Oh well. I rather like it.
Summary: Brave!Elijah. Confused!Orli. Sniggering Loo Man.
Archive: Limey Sugar; all others 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.
Madness line nicked from, erm, I mean inspired by Gandalf's line to Saruman at Isengard.
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 email to the above addy for an invite to the Limey Sugar group on Yahoo! Groups.
****
Chapter Four: Nothing ventured. . .
The music was loud, the alcohol tasted good, and there was no Viggo. Elijah was momentarily happy about that, until the decent part of his brain remembered that Viggo was his friend. A friend who happened to be fucking the boy *he* wanted to be fucking.
Said boy was now dancing shirtless in front of the DJ booth amid a throng of beautiful and not-so-beautiful women, grinding his hips against one of the former.
--At least he's got taste.--
Orlando's jeans rode low on his hips, revealing the top of the "V" of muscle that pointed down to his groin, and Elijah was overcome with the sudden desire to trace the lines with his tongue. He could almost taste the saltiness of Orli's skin mixed with the sweetness of the orange juice and vodka he'd drunk, and it was beginning to drive him mad.
Madness battled reason for control of Elijah's brain. Madness won.
Elijah set his drink on the bar and made his way to where Orlando was dancing and stood behind him. Without a word, he took hold of Orli's belt-loops and drew him backwards.
"What the bloody hell?" Orlando spun to face Elijah. "What're you doing, mate? Can't you see I'm dancing with *her*?"
"Now you're dancing with *me*."
"Oh. Right, then." Orlando began to move with Elijah on the dance floor, painfully close together but painfully far apart.
"Are you in love with Viggo?" Elijah's breath was warm in Orlando's ear.
"In love? With Viggo?" Viggo was a great guy, and one hell of a good fuck, but Orlando wasn't in *love* with him. At least he didn't *think* he was. "No."
"Good."
"Why? You looking to hook up with him?"
"No," Elijah breathed. "I'm looking to hook up with you."
"You shouldn't say things like that, Lij. A bloke might just take you seriously."
"That's the point."
Orlando pulled away from Elijah and headed toward the bar, toward Dominic and Billy. What the hell did that stupid wanker think he was doing? Being made the laughingstock once was quite enough for Orlando, and he wasn't about to let it happen again. Especially not in public like this. He was sure Dom and Billy had something to do with it, what with the way they'd been mysteriously quiet all night.
"What the fuck's going on, Dom?"
"With what?" The look on Dom's face was genuinely innocent, but Orlando didn't see it. He was too angry.
"Don't fucking tell me you didn't put him up to it. It's not fucking funny anymore."
"Put *who* up to *what*?"
"Lij, you bastard. He was all over me out there, saying how he wanted to- oh, shit. He was fucking *serious*, wasn't he?"
"You feelin' alright, mate? I think you've had enough to drink."
"Sod off, Bill. I've only had two beers. I'll be back in a minute."
Orlando went back out to the dance floor, but Elijah wasn't there. He wasn't sitting at any of the tables, either.
*~*~*~*~*
Elijah was sitting on the floor in one of the stalls in the men's room. He didn't give a rat's arse that this wasn't the most sanitary place to be; he didn't give a rat's arse about anything.
Orlando hadn't said a word before leaving Elijah standing there, suddenly alone in a room full of people. Elijah who had just been rejected.
Elijah who loved Orlando. Fucking *loved* him.
He sat there, his back against the fibreglass wall, trying hard not to cry. Evidently, he didn't try hard enough; here he was, a grown man, sitting in a public toilet and crying. Fuck all.
"Lij? You in here?" Orli.
"No."
"Okay then. Since you're not in here, then I'm not going to talk to you. Which stall are you not in?"
"The last one. By the window."
"Are you going to let me in, or are you going to make me crawl under the bloody door?"
There was a bit of sniggering from a stall to Orlando's right; Orlando was tempted to tell the bastard where he could stuff it, but decided salvaging what was left of his friendship with Elijah was more pressing. He was about to actually crawl under the door when it opened, and Orlando was faced with a pale-faced, red-eyed Elijah.
"Orli, you don't have to say anything. Really."
"I want to. There's a lot to."." More sniggering from arsehole-in-the-loo.
"Like why Viggo and not me?"
"Erm, yeah. Something like that."
"I don't want to hear that. What I want to hear is how to make it me and not Viggo."
Orlando was about to tell Elijah that all he had to do was say he wanted him when Sniggering Man came out of his stall.
"Well, whoever this Viggo bloke is, he's right lucky to be buggering the likes of you." He looked Orli over, then looked at Elijah. "Little squirt here's onto somethin'."
"Erm, thanks, mate, but this is sort of personal, you know?"
"Right. But if you change your mind-"
"I won't."
"Bastard. Just cos you're pretty, doesn't mean you got to be an ar€ € Off he went, and Orlando was grateful there hadn't been a problem. The guy was rather enormous.
"About Viggo," Orli began, taking in a deep breath. "That was just sort of a one-off kind of thing. The only time we ever did *anything* was that night you came over."
"But you said-"
"I never said otherwise. But let's not talk about this here."
To be continued . . .
Pairings: Orlando Bloom/Elijah Wood, Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen
Rating: Overall: NC-17. This chapter: R for language. I use the word "fuck" entirely too often, methinks. Oh well. I rather like it.
Summary: Brave!Elijah. Confused!Orli. Sniggering Loo Man.
Archive: Limey Sugar; all others 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.
Madness line nicked from, erm, I mean inspired by Gandalf's line to Saruman at Isengard.
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 email to the above addy for an invite to the Limey Sugar group on Yahoo! Groups.
****
Chapter Four: Nothing ventured. . .
The music was loud, the alcohol tasted good, and there was no Viggo. Elijah was momentarily happy about that, until the decent part of his brain remembered that Viggo was his friend. A friend who happened to be fucking the boy *he* wanted to be fucking.
Said boy was now dancing shirtless in front of the DJ booth amid a throng of beautiful and not-so-beautiful women, grinding his hips against one of the former.
--At least he's got taste.--
Orlando's jeans rode low on his hips, revealing the top of the "V" of muscle that pointed down to his groin, and Elijah was overcome with the sudden desire to trace the lines with his tongue. He could almost taste the saltiness of Orli's skin mixed with the sweetness of the orange juice and vodka he'd drunk, and it was beginning to drive him mad.
Madness battled reason for control of Elijah's brain. Madness won.
Elijah set his drink on the bar and made his way to where Orlando was dancing and stood behind him. Without a word, he took hold of Orli's belt-loops and drew him backwards.
"What the bloody hell?" Orlando spun to face Elijah. "What're you doing, mate? Can't you see I'm dancing with *her*?"
"Now you're dancing with *me*."
"Oh. Right, then." Orlando began to move with Elijah on the dance floor, painfully close together but painfully far apart.
"Are you in love with Viggo?" Elijah's breath was warm in Orlando's ear.
"In love? With Viggo?" Viggo was a great guy, and one hell of a good fuck, but Orlando wasn't in *love* with him. At least he didn't *think* he was. "No."
"Good."
"Why? You looking to hook up with him?"
"No," Elijah breathed. "I'm looking to hook up with you."
"You shouldn't say things like that, Lij. A bloke might just take you seriously."
"That's the point."
Orlando pulled away from Elijah and headed toward the bar, toward Dominic and Billy. What the hell did that stupid wanker think he was doing? Being made the laughingstock once was quite enough for Orlando, and he wasn't about to let it happen again. Especially not in public like this. He was sure Dom and Billy had something to do with it, what with the way they'd been mysteriously quiet all night.
"What the fuck's going on, Dom?"
"With what?" The look on Dom's face was genuinely innocent, but Orlando didn't see it. He was too angry.
"Don't fucking tell me you didn't put him up to it. It's not fucking funny anymore."
"Put *who* up to *what*?"
"Lij, you bastard. He was all over me out there, saying how he wanted to- oh, shit. He was fucking *serious*, wasn't he?"
"You feelin' alright, mate? I think you've had enough to drink."
"Sod off, Bill. I've only had two beers. I'll be back in a minute."
Orlando went back out to the dance floor, but Elijah wasn't there. He wasn't sitting at any of the tables, either.
*~*~*~*~*
Elijah was sitting on the floor in one of the stalls in the men's room. He didn't give a rat's arse that this wasn't the most sanitary place to be; he didn't give a rat's arse about anything.
Orlando hadn't said a word before leaving Elijah standing there, suddenly alone in a room full of people. Elijah who had just been rejected.
Elijah who loved Orlando. Fucking *loved* him.
He sat there, his back against the fibreglass wall, trying hard not to cry. Evidently, he didn't try hard enough; here he was, a grown man, sitting in a public toilet and crying. Fuck all.
"Lij? You in here?" Orli.
"No."
"Okay then. Since you're not in here, then I'm not going to talk to you. Which stall are you not in?"
"The last one. By the window."
"Are you going to let me in, or are you going to make me crawl under the bloody door?"
There was a bit of sniggering from a stall to Orlando's right; Orlando was tempted to tell the bastard where he could stuff it, but decided salvaging what was left of his friendship with Elijah was more pressing. He was about to actually crawl under the door when it opened, and Orlando was faced with a pale-faced, red-eyed Elijah.
"Orli, you don't have to say anything. Really."
"I want to. There's a lot to."." More sniggering from arsehole-in-the-loo.
"Like why Viggo and not me?"
"Erm, yeah. Something like that."
"I don't want to hear that. What I want to hear is how to make it me and not Viggo."
Orlando was about to tell Elijah that all he had to do was say he wanted him when Sniggering Man came out of his stall.
"Well, whoever this Viggo bloke is, he's right lucky to be buggering the likes of you." He looked Orli over, then looked at Elijah. "Little squirt here's onto somethin'."
"Erm, thanks, mate, but this is sort of personal, you know?"
"Right. But if you change your mind-"
"I won't."
"Bastard. Just cos you're pretty, doesn't mean you got to be an ar€ € Off he went, and Orlando was grateful there hadn't been a problem. The guy was rather enormous.
"About Viggo," Orli began, taking in a deep breath. "That was just sort of a one-off kind of thing. The only time we ever did *anything* was that night you came over."
"But you said-"
"I never said otherwise. But let's not talk about this here."
To be continued . . .