Paris Bound *COMPLETE*

Title: Paris Bound (1/2)
Author: Ariel Tachna
Beta: Donna
Characters: Viggo/Orlando, Sean B.
Summary: A mysterious note takes Orlando to the set one night in costume. He gets more than he bargained for.
Warning: Light bondage, semi non-con, spanking
Disclaimer: I don’t know them so I don’t know what I’m talking about. This is all for fun.

WINNER of the Other VOLA May challenge!


Sean Bean had had it. For a month, he’d had to listen to Orlando bitch and moan about missing Viggo. The break-up had been mutual, at least at the time, but Orlando had regretted it ever since. And Sean had to listen to him whine and complain. God, Orlando was worse than his daughters. They, at least, knew when he’d reached his limit.

And now Viggo was calling Sean to check on Orlando. As if it were somehow Sean’s job to make sure the kid was safe and happy. Safe, he might have been. Safe, Sean might be able to keep him. But happy? That was Viggo’s responsibility, and Viggo’s alone. Sean wanted no part of it.

“Come on, Sean,” Viggo ded.ded. “Just tell me he’s all right.”

Sean sighed. Friendship really sucked sometimes. “Define all right.”

That was obviously the wrong answer because then Viggo demanded to know what was wrong.

“He misses you, Vig,” Sean said. “I haven’t heard any name but yours off the set, since he got here. You want to tell me what happened, because he won’t?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Viggo evaded.

“Suit yourself, mate,” Sean replied, “but he’s a mess. Whatever happened, maybe you ought to fix it.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Viggo answered.

Yes, friendship really sucked sometimes. “Do you love him?” Sean asked, “Because he still loves you.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“Shit, Viggo, do you think I’m blind? He doesn’t have to tell me. I can see it in his face when he talks about you, and in the tears he cries because he misses you so much. Find a way to fuckin’ fix this.”

“Letthinthink about it,” Viggo replied.

“Think fast,” was Sean’s aggravated response.


Two days later, Viggo called back. “Are you sure?” he asked, when Sean answered the phone. Sean rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay, can you do me a huge favor?”

Sean listened in stupefied silence as Viggo outlined his plan. It had to be the craziest plan Sean had ever heard, but if it got his two friends back together, he was all for it. He just hoped the Wolfgang didn’t find out, because he’d lose his job for sure if he got caught.

Orlando stared at the note in his hand. There was no signature. He didn’t recognize the writing, but the only writing he would recognize in the cast was Sean’s, so the note could be from anybody. He’d read it so many times already that he had it memorized and he’d only gotten it an hour ago. “Meet me on the palace set tonight at 10,” it said. “Wear your costume.”

If Viggo had been here, Orlando would have sworn he’d sent the note, even if it wasn’t his handwriting. When they had been filming Lord of the Rings, he and Viggo had snuck onto every set and made love, in character or out. But Viggo wasn’t here, and never would be again.

It was all his fault, Orlando admitted. Before he left to film Troy, he’d been tired and frustrated. He enjoyed the work he was doing, but not the life he was living. He’d gone to Viggo, thinking the older man would help solve the problem. “Living like this isn’t working,” Orlando said without preamble.

He expected Viggo to ask why, to suggest a solution, anything to fix it. Instead, he’d calmly agreed with Orlando that it wasn’t working. There hadn’t been any heated words, any callous insults. Orlando had simply gathered his things and left for location. Since then, they hadn’t talked. Even once. And Orlando was sick with it. He managed on set, because it was a job, and when he slipped into the role of Paris, the real world fell away for a few hours. But at the end of the day, when the costume came off, so did the illusion of normalcy. He knew he was driving Sean crazy, but no one else on the set knew about him and Viggo, so no one else would understand. He had to talk to someone or he’d go mad. Sean was it.

His thoughts returned to the note in his hand. He’d ask Sean about it during a break in filming. Maybe he’d have some advice.

The scenes they were filming that day were grueling. Especially the ones involving Diane. She was a really nice woman, but having to act like he was in love with her when his heart was breaking was really asking a lot. He flubbed far more lines and cues that day than normal. Still, they finally got it right, and Orlando got his break.

“Sean,” he called when he saw his friend, “do you have a sec?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

“I got this note this morning,” Orlando said, showing Sean the note. “What do you think I should do?”

“Any idea who it’s from?” Sean asked when he finished reading it.

“No,” Orlando replied.

“Go for it,” Sean suggested. “What do you have to lose? You can always leave if you don’t like the person who meets you.”

“I guess that’s true,” Orlando agreed.

“You can tell me all about it tomorrow,” Sean suggested.

Orlando smiled, then heard his name, calling him back on set. “Gotta go,” he shouted as he hurried back to take his cue.

He finished filming and went home to shower and eat. The note said 10 o’clock, so he had time to kill. He toyed with the idea of calling Viggo, just to see how he was. After all, it would have been their anniversary if they hadn’t broken up before Orlando came to film. He decided against it, though. It couldn’t do any good; only cause him more heartache. He missed Viggo’s smooth voice, the way he could talk about anything, or nothing, and make it sound wonderful. He missed hearing Viggo tell him that he loved. H. He missed saying the words in reply. He missed so many things. All the little things that made up the routine of daily life. He always had missed those things when they were separated for filming, but then, he’d known that he would have them again when filming was over. Now, through his own stupidity, he would never have them again.

‘No,’ he thought. ‘I won’t do it. When this is over, I’m going back to L.A. and I’m finding a way to make this right. I don’t know how, but living without him is even worse than living apart from him.’

His eyes settled bac the the note. He considered not going. He had just decided to find a way to make things up with Viggo. Meeting someone else did not seem like the right way to start repairing his life, but he’d already told Sean about the note. If he didn’t go, Sean would rag on him forever. He would go and see who sent the note and what they wanted. He could always tell the sender that he wasn’t interested in an affair, or whatever they were proposing.

As he slipped back into his trailer for his costume, he began to see it as an adventure. He spent a few minutes pondering which costume to wear. The meeting was at the palace set, where he had filmed all his scenes with Diane, but if he wore the pants and robe that he had worn in those scenes, it might seem like he was welcoming a tryst. Finally, he decided on wearing his armor. He wore it occasionally on that set, when he was coming in from battle, so it wasn’t completely out of character. At 10 o’clock exactly, he walked onto the pa set set, almost eager to see what the evening would bring, even if all it brought was the identity of the note writer.

Much to his surprise, Sean stepped out of the shadows. “What are you doing here?” Orlando asked.

“Do you trust me?” Sean asked in reply, coming to stand beside him.

“You know I do,” Orlando answered.

“Good,” Sean said. Before Orlando could react, Sean had tied his hands behind his back.

“What the hell?” Orlando protested as Sean tied a silkrf orf over his eyes.

Sean leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Orlando’s curls. “Trust me.” Then, he was gone. At least, Orlando assumed he was gone. He heard footsteps and the door to the set closing. Then, silence.

“Sean?” Orlando called querulously. There was no reply.

“Hey, this isn’t funny. Get these ropes off me,” Orlando called again. Then he heard footsteps from the general direction of the set bedroom. Hands closed around his arms. Hard hands. Masculine hands.

“Let me go,” Orlando said, trying to pull away from the man who was holding him in place. The hands just gripped more tightly, pulling him back against a hard chest. A naked chest, it felt like. The hands roved over his chest.

“Stop,” Orlando insisted, trying to struggle against his bonds and against the man holding him. “Don’t do this, whoever you are. Just let me go and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

The man didn’t answer him, loosening the armor instead. Then the hands were back, running possessively over his chest, inside the armor, kneading his muscles before settling to tweak and pinch at his nipples. Despite himself, Orlando could feel his cock hardening. The reaction made him struggle harder. In an effort to restrain him, his captor pressed more fully against his back, letting Orlando feel the pressure of the other man’s erection. Orlando had to get away. He kicked out, trying to knock the other guy off balance. It worked, but Orlando went down with him, landing beneath him, bare legs tangling with bare legs. The wandering hands took advantage of the new position to slip under the costume skirt and cup Orlando’s ass through his boxers. Orlando flinched away from the intimate touch. He had just decided to go back to Viggo and now this. Maybe if he told the guy that he was in another relationship…

“Listen,” Orlando pleaded, “I know what everybody thinks about me. They think I’m single, that I’m up for grabs. I’m not. There’s only one person I want, and he’s not here. He’s in L.A. I’m going back there, back to him, as soon as filming is over. I don’t know who gave you the idea that I might be up for something like this, but I’m not. Please let me go.”

He got the words out before the other man silenced him with a rough kiss. Not brutal, Orlando noticed in a daze. Just not gentle. Kinda like the way Viggo used to kiss him when his fegs ggs got to be too strong to express any other way. That thought forced Orlando to tear his mouth away from the surprisingly pleasant kiss. ‘It doesn’t matter how well he kisses,’ Orlando reminded himself. ‘If he’s not Viggo, I don’t want him.’

Then his brain kicked in. Sean. Sean knew that Orlando was moping over Viggo. Sean knew that Orlando regretted their argument. Sean knew that this would have been their anniversary. Sean had been here tonight, had been the one to tie his hands and put on the blindfold. Sean had said to trust him. Sean was Viggo’s best friend.

If Sean was involved, then the man kissing him could only be… Viggo.

Viggo took advantage of Orlando’s distraction to capture his mouth again. Again, Orlando pulled his head away. He didn’t just want sex with Viggo. He wanted everything right again.

“You know,” Orlando said, as Viggo began kissing his neck, “I had a stupid fight with my lover before I came here, but I miss him more than I thought possible.” The lips on his neck stilled. “I said something the wrong way, and he misunderstood. I was asking him to help me, but he thought I was saying good-bye.”

Still no movement from the man on top of him. ‘It has to be Viggo,’ Orlando thought. ‘Who else would listen to this?’

“I was hurt,” Orlando admitted. “I thought he was throwing me away. I told myself I was better off without him. But I’m not. I have only ever loved him, and I want him back.”

Orlando took a deep breath. He was certain that it was Viggo there with him. Now he was going to find out for sure.

“What will it take to make you take me back, Viggo?” he whispered.

Hard lips settled over his, a passionate, possessive kiss. “I’ll take you back,” Viggo growled, “but you’re going to have to pay for leaving me.”

The words, and the tone, sent lust shooting through Orlando. He and Viggo had skirted around the edge of playing sgamegames, but had never done so in earnest. The lure of the forbidden had always tempted Orlando, but he hadn’t known how to bring it up. This was his opening.

“I’ve been a bad boy,” he purred. “You’ll have to punish me.”

Those words were all the encouragement Viggo needed. He rolled off Orlando and pulled him to his feet, leading him across the set to the bedroom area and the bed. Viggo sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Orlando across his knees.

Orlando tested his position as he lay there. With his hands bound, he could not support his weight at all. He could push up a little with his feet, but if he did so, it would dump him forward on his face. He was essentially at Viggo’s mercy. Then, Viggo settled a heavy arm across the small of his back, restricting the little movement he had, and he was completely at Viggo’s mercy. The thought was a serious turn-on.

Viggo flipped up the skirt on Orlando’s costume and stripped the boxers underneath down Orlando’s legs. “These are not very authentic,” Viggo observed as he pulled them off. Without warning, his hand cracked down on Orlando’s bare ass. Orlando jerked slightly in response. The burning feeling faded almost immediately, leaving only a pleasurable warmth and a fresh flush of arousal. He shifted just enough that his erection was not caught between his body and Viggo’s thighs.

“Do that again,” Orlando whispered.

“I plan to,” Viggo replied, his voice ripe with promise. His hand descended on the opposite cheek, eliciting another jerk of Orlando’s hips and leaving a red mark to match the first. “By the time I’m done with you, you won’t be able to sit down for a week. Then I’m going to fuck you through the mattress and make it two weeks.”

Orlando moaned at the thought. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” he babbled, just the thought of Viggo’s huge cock inside him enough to have him trembling with anticipation.

Viggo paused for a moment and looked around the set. “Is this the bed where Paris takes Helen?” he asked.

“It’s the only bed on the set,” Orlando replied, “so it must be.”

“Cheeky boy,” Viggo chided, applying two more sharp slaps to Orlando’s cheeks. “We’re going to play that scene a little differently tonight,” he informed Orlando. “Tonight, Paris is going to answer for his transgressions.” Another blow.

Orlando could feel his erection beginning to drip just from the few times Viggo had already touched him. If it continued, he’d be coming just from the spanking. The thought of it brought him that much closer to the edge. Still, if Viggo wanted him to be Paris, he would play along.

“And who are you to punish a Prince of Troy?” he asked insolently, slipping into Paris’ voice.

Viggo’s answer was a series of spanks that rained down on Orlando’s buttocks and upper thighs.

“Oh, God,” Orlando md, bd, breaking character under Viggo’s sensual assault.

“That’s right,” Viggo answered. “A god. Apollo, to be precise, come to tame an errant Prince.”

“You can try,” Orlando/Paris replied.

Viggo’s hand cracked again. Smack, smack, smack. He could feel Orlando’s erection prodding against his thigh.

“You fell for my sister’s tricks, my prince,” Viggo scolded with another smack. “So now you have a war on your hands over a woman so fickle she would leave her lawful husband for another man.” As he spoke, his hand continued to pepper Orlando’s butt and upper thighs.

“She was beautiful,” Orlando replied, struggling to stay in character. “I desired her.”

“You were weak,” Viggo countered, the spanking becoming more punishing as he continued. “You chose a mortal woman instead of a god.”

“I did not know,” Orlando pleaded. He could feel his release approaching. He arched into each slap, pleasure and pain mingling sublimely in the heat of his backside.

“And if you had known?” Viggo prompted.

“I would have chosen you,” Orlando swore. “I would have chosen you.”

Viggo too pity on him then, switching hands to reach beneath Orlando’s prone form to fist his cock with one hand while the other hand continued to rain bruising blows on his heated flesh.

“And now?” Viggo asked. “Will you abandon me again?”

“Never,” Orlando swore. “Never again.”

Viggo jerked hard on Orlando’s cock, bringing him to orgasm.

Orlando let out a loud cry as his cock spurted his release.

“Are you well and truly punished?” Viggo asked.

“Yes,” Orlando moaned, still trembling in the aftermath of his release. His ass was on fire from the spanking. Now he needed fucking.

Viggo slid Orlando off his knees to the floor, positioning himthatthat his forehead leaned against the edge of the bed. Then he considered the other man’s costume. On or off. Off, he decided. He was not quite ready to give up the role-playing, but he had to feel Orlando’s skin against his.

He undid the buckles on the chest plate, removing it and running eager hands over Orlando’s chest, his shoulders, the scar on his back. Then, he found the fastening on the skirt and drew it aside as well, leaving Orlando naked except for the blindfold, kneeling before him, hands bound, the perfect picture of submission.

Quickly, Viggo retrieved the lube he had hidden in the folds of the sheets before Orlando’s arrival. His fingers encountered the condom that was there as well, but he left it there. He hadn’t been with anyone since Orlando left, and Orlando had already said that he had not. They did not need the protective barrier that so interfered with their pleasure.

He dropped to his knees behind Orlando, knocking the younger man’s knees apart to expose his puckered hole. He uncapped the lube and coated his fingers liberally. They had been apart for weeks. Orlando was always tight, but especially when their schedules had separated them for any length of time. It made the first round of reunion sex like the first time all over again. And while Viggo wasn’t completely sure he was ready to be gentle, he did not want to injure Orlando unintentionally.

“Now, I claim you,” he said, running his fingers down Orlando’s spine again to the still hot skin of his ass. He circled the tempting entrance teasingly. Once.

Twice.

Three times before driving inside, seeking his lover’s prostate to offset the burn of the forceful penetration. Orlando’s muscle spasmed around Viggo’s finger, holding it tightly inside him. Mercilessly, Viggo withdrew, before plunging inside again with a second finger.

Orlando whimpered as Viggo’s fingers stretched him roughly, but the cry turned quickly to pleasure as they brushed hard against his prostate. Viggo gave him a little time to recover from that assault, scissoring his fingers inside Orlando to stretch him. Normally, he would add a third finger, even a fourth before taking Orlando, drawing out their lovemaking as much as possible, but he wanted the tight clench of Orlando’s sheath around his erection, wanted Orlando to fully feel his penetration.

As if Orlando sensed his internal debate, he shifted slightly. “Take me, Apollo” he begged. “Let mel tel the burn.”

That was enough to break what little control Viggo had left. He didn’t even take the time to slick his cock, simply grabbing Orlando’s hips and slamming into him with only the lube from his fingers to ease his way.

Orlando grunted at the rojoinjoining, but he didn’t complain. He needed to feel Viggo inside him, filling him so full he could feel it all the way through his body. He needed the reassurance that this was really happening. Usually, he had to plead with Viggo when he needed this kind of force in their sex life, but not this time. The power of Viggo’s thrusts was rocking him against the bed.

Viggo couldn’t believe how hot and tight Orlando’s passage felt. Maybe it was the separation, maybe it was believing he would never again experience the sense of homecoming that he felt when he and Orlando were so intimately joined, but it had never felt so good. So right. He plunged repeatedly into Orlando’s tempting body, until release shook through both of them.