In Search of Fireworks

Title: In Search of Fireworks
Author: Ariel Tachna
Author's e-mail: arieltachna@y...
Author's website: www.geocities.com/arieltachna
Type: RPS
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: NC-17 overall
Warning: Just sex
Disclaimer: I don't know them. I make no claims about them. I just want to have fun.
Feedback: Don't be gentle. Just be honest.
Beta: The incomparable Jean
Archive: VOLA Slash, Innate Desires, everyone else, just ask I'll surely say yes.
A/N: This piece can be read as a stand-alone piece, but it is also part of the backstory to French Lessons.
Summary: Orlando wants some fireworks in his life.

Written for the VOLA July Challenge.

When he joined the cast of Lord of the Rings, fresh out of drama school, Orlando Bloom had considered himself pretty worldly for a twenty-one year old. He’d had his share of girlfriends, and he’d discovered that guys were interesting, too’d g’d given and received his share of handjobs and blowjobs. But he’d never been in love, and he’d never gone all the way with a guy. His mates at Guildhall had been willing to experiment, but only up to a point. And some mostly buried, old-fashioned part of Orlando’s soul told him to wait for the right moment. And the right man.

Out of habit, he’d checked out his castmates upon arrival, but nobody had particularly caught his eye. Then, Pete had decided to recast Aragorn, giving Orlando one more person to consider. He’d taken an instant liking to Viggo, but that had been the end of it. No vibe. No jolt, just a warm friendship that Orlando had come to treasure, as he did all his friendships with the cast. Except that Viggo’s had become the most important. And Orlando had realized that he wasn’t very worldly at all. Not next to Viggo.

Then, two weeks ago, everything had changed. Orlando and the Hobbits had gone out clubbing as usual, dragging Viggo along this time. They had all been drinking and all of them except Viggo had been dancing. Orlando had gotten tired of seeing Viggo sitting off to the side by himself and had dragged the older man onto the dance floor, rubbing up against him provocatively. He hadn’t really meant anything by it; he’d just been dancing. But suddenly, he had heard Viggo mutter something under his breath, something that sounded vaguely like, “Fuck it,” and then Viggo had grabbed him by the shoulders and latched his mouth onto Orlando’s. Shock had kept Orlando from reacting at first, but the kiss had continued anyway until Orlando’s brain caught up with reality and he had kissed Viggo back. It wasn’t a tentative kiss. Viggo didn’t do things halfway. No, it was a full-bore possession of his mouth, a kiss so deep Orlando swore he could feel it in his toes. Then Viggo had pulled away abruptly and left the bar. Orlando had been trying since then to figure out what had happened an tal talk to Viggo about it. He hadn’t succeeded in doing either. Which meant he needed a plan.

The only problem was who to ask for help. It had to be somebody Viggo wouldn’t suspect, which left out the Hobbits and Ian. If Beanie had still been around, Orlando would have asked him, but Beanie had gone home, his part in the filming finished. Orlando didn’t think John would help either, just because John seemed to disapprove of on-set relationships on principle. Which was probably good advice that Orlando would have followed. Until Viggo kissed him. He didn’t really know the newcomers, Craig or David or Karl, well enough to ask them. That meant throwing himself on Liv’s mercy and paying the price she set. He only hoped it was something he was willing to give.

He caught up with her at the end of filming the next day. “Hey, princess,” he called after her, “let me buy you dinner.” The offer was unusual enough to catch her interest. She often went out with her castmates, but rarely did they treat her to dinner or drinks. That would be too much like dating, and they all knew she was engaged to Roy back home.

When they settled into a booth at a little Italian restaurant, Liv fixed Orlando with a commanding stare.at dat do you want?” she asked.

“To have dinner with a pretty girl,” he said defensively.

“Try again,” she answered. “If that’s what you wanted, you would have called up some girl you met at a bar. That way, you’d have a chance of getting some action after dinner. Tell me the truth this time.”

“Fine,” he pouted. “I need some help, and you’re the only one who can give it.”

“Help with what?” Liv asked, intrigued.

“Help with Viggo. Two weeks ago, he kissed me. Since then, he’s been avoiding me except when we have a scene together. I need to talk to him, but he won’t let me catch up with him. I need a plan.”

“What kind of kiss?” Liv wanted to know.

“What do you mean, what kind of kiss?”

“Men,” she sighed. “It obviously wasn’t a quick peck on the cheek cause you guys do that all the time. Was it a light, I’m a good friend kind of kiss? Or an I want to screw you through the carpet kind of kiss?”

Orlando blushed. “I’m pretty sure it was an I want to screw you through the carpet kind. But he hasn’t come near me since. I’m a little confused.”

Liv thought about it for a minute. It was July 1 and she knew the effects crew was planning a fireworks display for the Americans to celebrate the 4th. Fireworks, a blanket, a dark night. Sounded perfect to her. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll ask Viggo to meet a group of us to watch the fireworks in three days. I’ll just forget to include anyone else but you. What you do with him once you get him alone is up to you.”

“And if he mentions it to anyone else?” Orlando wanted to know.

“I’ll tell him I just want to invite the other Americans. That’s just Lij, and Sean A and his family since Cate’s gone home. I have enough blackmail on Lij to make him keep his mouth shut, and Sean will play along if I ask. They might give you hell about it later, but they won’t tip your hand.”

“Okay,” Orlando agreed. “Where are you going to tell him to meet you? I mean me.”

Liv picked a sufficiently secluded spot and told Orlando. He agreed and they finished their meals, discussing what Orlando should bring along.

On the way out, Liv said, “Oh, and I’ll want details the next day.”

There it was. The price. He supposed it was a reasonable one. He could still decide what to tell her and what not to.

Orlando made a point of not being seen talking to Liv over the next three days. He didn’t want to do anything to make Viggo suspicious. He’d searched around and found a couple of thick blankets, one they could sit on and on they could wrap up in for the fireworks display. He had a bottle of decent wine picked out, a kind he’d seen Viggo order when they were all out together. Now it just needed to get dark so Orlando could get everything ready for the evening.

When dusk came, Orlando gathered his supplies and headed out to the spot Liv had chosen. It was definitely isolated, so if Viggo came, they wouldn’t have to worry about anyone disturbing them, but it also gave a good view of the area where the fireworks would take place. Orlando was looking forward to watching the fireworks. He loved fireworks displays. The thought brought an old, half-forgotten memory to mind. He’d had a friend in school who had always used the expression “fireworks” when she wanted to talk about sex. He would ask her how her evening was and she would say something about there being fireworks and he would know what had happened. The expression had always amused him, though, because, while he enjoyed sex as much as the next man, he’d never equated it with the stunning beauty and power of fireworks.

Orlando arranged the blanket on the ground and opened the picnic basket Liv had found for him, uncorking the wine so it would have a chance to breathe. There were other goodies in the basket as well: cheese, crackers, pâté, designed for easy eating. He could get those out later, if he got Viggo to stay. He shivered a little in the cool air. It wasn’t freezing, but it was definitely not summer. He hoped Viggo would get there soon. He wanted to wrap them up in the spare blanket and share some body heat. Of course, that assumed Viggo didn’t take one look at the situation and run.

A few moments later, he heard footsteps in the woods and Viggo appeared out of the shadows into the clearing. “Orlando,” he said, surprised, “what are you doing here?”

“Liv said it would be a good place to watch the fireworks,” Orlando replied. “Join me, why don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Viggo hesitated.

“Please,” Orlando asked.

Viggo couldn’t resist that word on Orlando’s lips. He sank to the blanket, but as far away from the younger man as possible. Orlando was less than thrilled at that, but at least Viggo had agreed to stay. By Orlando’s estimates, they had about ten minutes until the fireworks began. He really wanted to sit and enjoy the show. That meant clearing the air with Viggo first.

“Would you like some wine?” Orlando offered.

“Sure,” Viggo said, latching onto an excuse that would keep his hands busy. If he had wine in his hands, he wouldn’t be reaching compulsively for his costar.

Orlando poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Viggo. Viggo tasted it and looked at Orlando in surprise.

“This is my favorite,” Viggo exclaimed.

“I know,” Orlando replied. “That’s why I bought it.”

Viggo didn’t respond to that immediately. Finally he said, “Liv and the others aren’t coming, are they?”

“I certainly hope not,” Orlando ared.red. “I only have two glasses.”

Viggo laughed at that before falling silent again.

Orlando screwed up his courage and finally asked, “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Orlando,” Viggo said discouragingly.

“No,” Orlando insisted, “I have a right to know. We were friends. Best friends, I thought, right up until the moment you kissed me. Since then, you’ve been treating me like I have the plague. The least you could do is give me an explanation.”

“I don’t trust myself anymore,” Viggo answered softly.

“What does that mean?” Orlando wanted to know.

“I had no right to touch you the way I did in that bar. There’s no excuse for it. If I stay away from you, I’m less tempted to do it again.”

For all of thirty seconds, Orlando was completely speechless. Viggo misunderstood his lack of reaction. “I should go,” he said, starting to rise.

“No!” Orlando cried lunging for him and grabbing his arm. “Don’t run from me again. Why do you think you have no right to touch me?”

“Look at you, Orlando! And look at me. You’re twenty-two and I’m not. I haven’t been for years. You deserve someone your own age, not some eccentric old man who…” Viggo didn’t finish his sentence. He couldn’t. He had his arms full of Orlando. And his mouth as well. Orlando was kissing him with the same, single-minded determination that he had used two weeks ago and it broke down Viggo’s barriers. He found himself returning the kiss without conscious thought, lips and tongue moving of their own accord to meet Orlando’s.

“Did it ever occur to you,” Orlando asked when he broke the kiss and came up for air, “that I might have enjoyed the kiss we shared? Might have even wanted more?”

“No,” Viggo replied honestly.

Orlando stared at him, dumbfounded. “How much more strongly did I need to react when you kissed me the first time? I thought I’d made my response pretty clear.”

“You were drunk. You had no idea what you were doing.”

“I wasn’t that drunk,” Orlando retorted. “I knew exactly what I was doing and with whom. And I’ve been trying for the past two weeks to tell you that, but you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Lot of good that did me,” Viggo muttered, but there was no anger, only resignation in his tone.

The first shower of fireworks went off just at that moment. Orlando turned in Viggo’s arms so that his back was pressed against the older man’s chest, his hands firmly clasping Viggo’s wrists so he could not remove his arms from around Orlando. With a contented sigh, Orlando settled in to watch the display.

The colors and patterns were beautiful, as always: showers and blooms, sprays and stars, in blue and green, red and orange, white and even purple. The particular combination was unique, but the individual rockets were all things Orlando had seen before. But Viggo’s arms around him and Viggo’s heat behind him made it a magical experience.

Viggo stared blindly at the fireworks, not actually seeing them. Orlando was in his arms. That was all he knew. All he cared about. Through some miracle that he could not possibly deserve, the young man returned his interest. At least partially. Viggo doubted Orlando was ready to make declarations of undying love, or to hear them for that matter, but he clearly felt something beyond simple friendship for Viggo or he wouldn’t have kissed him earlier. Not like that.

Despite the warmth of Viggo’s embrace, Orlando shivered when a cool breeze kicked up. Viggo glanced around and spied the extra blanket sitting nearby. He grabbed it and wrapped them in it, shutting out the breeze and shutting them in their own little world.

“Mmm. Feels good,” Orlando murmured when the blanket closed around them. He sank further into Viggo’s arms, completely relaxed as he observed the pyrotechnics.

Viggo was caught between heaven and hell. He had what he had wanted for a long time. Not since they first met. It hadn’t started that long ago, but he had wanted Orlando for far longer than the two weeks since he had kissed him. But he’d convinced himself that the younger man was off-limits. Now Orlando seemed to be saying the opposite, and his current position, in Viggo’s arms, practically lying on top of him, certainly seemed to corroborate his words. But the fears that had held Viggo back, besides the fear of rejection, were still there. Orlando clearly wanted something, but did he really want Viggo or was this just a phase, an experiment? He had no way to tell, and it really bothered him. And even if he wanted Viggo now, what happened when he stopped wanting him?

Orlando suppressed a sigh when Viggo didn’t take advantage of their situation. How much more obvious could he be, Orlando wondered, short of stripping naked, and it was too cold for that. Well, if Viggo wouldn’t start this, Orlando would. He might have been waiting for the right moment with the right man before sleeping with a guy, but he had plenty of experience with foreplay. And no qualms about using it! Viggo wouldn’t know what hit him.

Viggo’s arms were still around him, his hands resting at Orlando’s waist. Orlando decided this was as good a time as any to see if artist’s hands were really more sensitive than other people’s hands. He started slowly, just intertwining his fingers with Viggo’s, his thumb resting on the palm of Viggo’s hand. When that caress wasn’t rejected, he circled his thumb slowly, exploring Viggo’s calluses with the pad of his finger. Behind him, he heard the slightest hitch in Viggo’s breathing, just enough to let Orlando know that the other man was indeed susceptible to that kind of touch. Emboldened, he separated their hands to trail his fingers across the back of Viggo’s hand and around hiist ist to the sensitive underside. That resulted in an indrawn hiss of breath, but still no indication that Orlando should stop. He grinned into the darkness and raised the hand he had been caressing to his lips, drawing one finger into his mouth as his fingers continued to trace random figures on Viggo’s wrist.

Viggo froze when he felt Orlando’s fingers in his, tensed when Orlando started caressing his palm, and melted when he lifted Viggo’s hand to his mouth. The shot of pure lust coursing through him was way out of proportion with the relative innocence of Orlando’s actions. But then, Viggo had often thought that his hands were the second most sensitive part of his body, and Orlando was doing a superb job of making love to his fingers. If the wet heat of his mouth felt that good on his hands, Viggo could only imagine how good it would feel on his cock. He tried to remind himself that he wasn’t supposed to be having such thoughts about the young Brit, but it was a little difficult with Orlando sucking his fingers deeper into his mouth. His fist clenched convulsively when Orlando’s tongue lapped at the calluses from sword fighting.

The teasing tongue paused for a minute as Orlando spoke, one hand enfolding Viggo’s fist. “You’re allowed to touch me,” Orlando assured him with a reassuring squeeze. Then his mouth went back to business with Viggo’s hand, biting gently at the heel of his hand. Viggo let a little moan escape.

Viggo hesitated a minute more before deciding to take advantage of Orlando’s offer. Maybe this wasn’t permanent. Maybe it didn’t mean to Orlando what it meant to him. But if tonight was all he was going to have, he intended to make it the best night of his life. He relaxed his fist and raised his hand to Orlando’s neck, feeling the smooth skin above the collar of the sweater he wore. Orlando tilted his head back, keeping Viggo’s other hand at his mouth.

Knowing artist’s fingers explored the sensitive skin, the tendons and muscles of Orlando’s neck before sliding down over cloth to trace the muscles of his chest. When the fingers lingered around his right nipple, it was Orlando’s turn to moan before biting more firmly at Viggo’s other hand and moving on to his wrist.

Viggo’s hand slid down, finding the hem of Orlando’s sweater and moving beneath in search of bare skin. He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Orlando’s neck and slipped his other hand from Orlando’s grasp. “Watch the fireworks,” he whispered, nibbling on Orlando’s ear as he spoke.

Orlando d tod to focus outward, to see the fireworks as Viggo requested, but it was hard to do with Viggo’s lips on his ear and Viggo’s fingers on his skin. He had to force his eyes to stay open when Viggo sucked gently on his earlobe. And when he combined that caress with a gentle pinch of Orlando’s nipples, Orlando failed entirely, eyes closing in bliss.“Wat“Watch the fireworks,” Viggo repeated. Orlando levered his eyes open again, trying to take in the colors and shapes in the sky in front of him.

Viggo waited, timing his next caress to the wave of sound from the next rocket, so that his fingers and the show assaulted Orlando’s senses at the same time.

Orlando was trapped in the sensual world of Viggo’s making. He knew what Viggo was doing, using the fireworks as part of the seduction. Some still-rational part of his brain even admired the strategy, but it didn’t help him resist it. He arched into Viggo’s hands as they kneaded and caresses his muscles, playing languidly over his nipples, all in time to the release of the fireworks. Then one hand moved lower, finding and releasing the button on his jeans. Orlando braced himself for the feel of Viggo’s hand on him, anticipating the caress as the next rocket shot into the sky, but nothing prepared him for Viggo’s touch. When Viggo’s fingers closed around his erection, he felt the fireworks inside him.

Then Viggo’s other hand joined the first, setting up a rhythm that pushed Orlando to the edge of ecstasy. Between the bursts of fireworks, Viggo’s fingers would stroke teasingly over the head of his arousal, its length, his balls. Then, when the burst came, his fist would close around Orlando, pulling strongly, making his hips jerk in pleasure. As the display built toward the finale, the rhythm of Viggo’s hands also increased. Boom, stroke, boom, stroke, until there was not time between them and Orlando was teetering on the edge of release. He had no idea what was babbling out of his mouth: pleas, obscenities, Viggo’s name. He was aware of only two things: the fireworks in the sky and Viggo’s hand on his cock.

“Let go,” Viggo whispered in his ear, and Orlando did, abandoning control and giving in to release. As the last of the fireworks crashed in the sky, his body convulsed, covering his lap and Viggo’s hand with sticky fluid.

Orlando lay in Viggo’s arms, on the edge of unconsciousness, aftershocks running through him, as the smoke cleared from the sky. Viggo just held him, waiting patiently for his heartbeat to slow, his breathing to calm, awareness to return. Orlando was loath to move, to break the spell that held him, but he couldn’t hold reality at bay forever.

“Don’t run from me this time,” he pleaded when he felt Viggo finally shift behind him.

“I don’t think I could if I tried,” Viggo replied honestly.

Orlando twisted in Viggo’s arms and kissed him tenderly. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

The words were little arrows in Viggo’s heart. It hurt to think of others touching Orlando the way he had just done. It hurt to think that Orlando only saw the physical side of what they’d just shared.

“You made me feel like the center of the universe,” Orlando added.

Okay, Viggo admitted to himself, maybe Orlando saw more than just the physical.

“You are,” Viggo replied softly, “at least of mine.”

“I… I had no idea,” Orlando stuttered. “I didn’t know you felt that way. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Lots of reasons, the first being the difference in our ages. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“But you’re not my father. You’re my friend, a friend I have respected and admired since we met.”

“Yeah, I know,” Viggo said. “That’s another reason. I didn’t want you to confuse hero worship with love.”

“I’m not that young,” Orlando snorted. “I know the difference. What else?”

“Your career. Mine, though to a lesser degree. You have a chance to be a real celebrity. Being in a gay relationship isn’t going to help that. I’m old enough and established enough that I could probably get away with it, but I don’t want to drag you down.”

“Isn’t that my choice to make?” Orlando asked.

“I just don’t want you to regret it. I’m afraid if you had to choose between your career and me that your career would win.”

Orlando sighed. “Let’s cross that bridge when, no, if we come to it. What’s to say that you won’t be bored with me long before we ever leave here?”

“Which is yet another reason. We have to work together, no matter what happens between us. We can’t let anything interfere with that.”

“We worked together these past two weeks when you weren’t speaking to me. We’re actors. We’ll deal with it if it comes to that. Any more excuses?” Orlando challenged.

The choice of words was enough to jerk Viggo out of his train of thought. They were excuses, helizelized. Slightly different ones than in past relationships, but excuses nonetheless. If he found enough excuses not to get involved, he didn’t get hurt. He also didn’t get to live.

“No,” he said firmly. “No more excuses.”

Orlando smiled, though Viggo could barely see it in the moonlight. “I think there are napkins in the basket. So we can clean up a bit.”

Viggo reached for the basket and retrieved the napkins, using them to gently wipe Orlando’s skin and his own hand.

Orlando straightened his clothes and looked back at the now silent sky. “I think the show is over. Shall we go home?”

Viggo nodded and helprlanrlando with the blankets. As they walked down the hill, Orlando reached out and took Viggo’s hand.

“Where’s your car?” Viggo asked, looking around.

“I walked,” Orlando replied. “I was afraid if you saw my car, you wouldn’t come.”

“Let me give you a ride home, then,” Viggo offered.

Orlando didn’t speak, just helped Viggo put their thiin tin the trunk. As they drove back toward town, he debated with himself. Viggo had given him release on the hill but hadn’t found his own. As he stared at Viggo’s profile, he knew he’d found the right man and the right moment. “Can we go to your place?” he asked softly.

Viggo had to concentrate on keeping the car on the road. Orlando’s words sent shock waves through him, dulling his senses to everything else. Including the road in front of him.

“If that’s what you want,” Viggo replied, trying not to read too much into Orlando’s offer. For all Viggo knew, he could just want to talk some more.

When they reached Viggo’s house, Orlando headed to the trunk. “We should take the basket inside. There’s food in it. It would be a shame to waste it.”

“Oh?” Viggo asked. “What did you bring?”

“Pâté, cheese, some crackers, but we didn’t get around to eating them.”

“Are you complaining?”

“God, no!” Orlando exclaimed. “But we can eat them later if we put them in the refrigerator.”

Viggo nodded and unlocked the door. Orlando followed him inside and moved comfortably to the kitchen. It was hardly the first time he’d been at Viggo’s house, and for a few moments, normalcy set in, as if their encounter with the fireworks hadn’t occurred. When Orlando came back in from the kitchen, he found Viggo standing in the living room, waiting for him. Suppressing the nerves that assailed him, he walked straight to Viggo and tilted his head to kiss the older man. Viggo let Orlando have his way with his mouth, standing still as Orlando kissed him.

At first, it was just a brushing of lips. Then Orlando licked softly at Viggo’s mouth, tasting him before nibbling gently at the full lower lip and sucking it into his mouth. Viggo’s arms came around him as the kiss continued, but he made no move to take control of it.

Orlando lapped at Viggo’s lips with his tongue before beginning a gentle invasion of his mouth. Slowly, almost reverently, he explored Viggo’s teeth and tongue, the roof of his mouth. It was a claiming kiss, an inflaming one, and Orlando could feel Viggo’s arousal pulsing against his stomach as they pressed together.

He undulated slowly against Viggo, increasing the pressure on the other man’s erection. “We should do something about that,” Orlando murmured, ending the kiss.

“You don’t have to,” Viggo said.

“But I want to,” Orlando assured him. “I want you to show me what I’ve been missing.’

Viggo didn’t know what to make of Orlando’s words at first. Then realization dawned. Orlando was a virgin, at least to this kind of sex. That didn’t bother Viggo, but he didn’t want to be just an experiment. “Why?” he said without elaborating.

Orlando understood. He and Viggo had become good at guessing each other’s thoughts. That was what had made the kiss and the past two weeks so strange. “I wanted to wait,” Orlando said, “for the right moment, with the right man. I’ve found what I was waiting for.”

Those words shattered Viggo’s resolve. If Orlando thought he was the right man and that this was the right moment, then Orlando thought this was special. Maybe not head over heels, falling in love special, but still special. And since that was the case, since this wasn’t just another fling, Viggo wanted the night to live up to those expectations. He kissed Orlando tenderly, pouring all the love he was feeling into the kiss along with the passion. He would show Orlando what it meant to be cherished. Treasured.

Loved.

His thoughts raced as he tried to decide how to achieve that goal. He had candles in the kitchen he could light to set the mood. The sheets on his bed weren’t fancy, but they were clean. He’d changed them that morning, fortunately. Music. His tastes in music were eclectic and he had a large number of choices at hand. The only question was what to plSomeSomething by which he could make love to Orlando.

“Give me five minutes,” he asked.

Orlando agreed. He thought about telling Viggo that he didn’t need to do anything special, that just being together made it special enough, but he didn’t say anything. Why settle for special enough when Viggo seemed determined to make it extraordinary? He sat on the couch and closed his eyes, trying to imagine what the next few hours would bring. He wasn’t scared; he knew Viggo would take cof hof him. It was just a big step, one he had deliberately not taken before. Then he reminded himself whom he was with. He reminded himself of how he had always admired and respected Viggo. He reminded himself of the feelings evoked by that first kiss in the smoky club and of all the feelings that had coursed through him since then. He reminded himself of the power of Viggo’s touch, discovered only that night. No one had ever made him feel the way Viggo had made him feel while watching the fireworks. It should have been no different than any other hand job he’d gotten, but it was different. Viggo touched him differently. As if all that mattered was his pleasure. Orlando’s pleasure. Viggo hadn’t asked for anything in return. They were here, about to make love because he had asked for it, not because Viggo had. Viggo would have taken him home, dropped him off with a good nigiss,iss, probably, but no pressure to do anything else. Orlando didn’t know if he could promise Viggo forever. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to make that promise. But he did know, without a doubt, that he cared more about Viggo, and in a different way, than he had ever cared about anyone else. He wanted Viggo to be the one to show him what magic they could create with their bodies and their hearts.

When Viggo came back into the room, Orlando opened his eyes and sent Viggo what he hoped was an inviting smile. “Make me a promise,” Viggo said, dropping one knee to the couch beside Orlando and kissing his lips.

“What promise?” Orlando asked, a little warily.

“That you will tell me to stop if you change your mind,” Viggo answered. “I need to know that you want this, want me, as much as I want you.”

“I promise,” Orlando replied. He certainly didn’t expect to change his mind, but he would tell Viggo if that somehow happened.

“Then come upstairs,” Viggo suggested, rising back to his feet and offering a hand to Orlando.

The nerves came back as Orlando rose, but when he put his hand in Viggo’s, they all fell away again. All that mattered was Viggo’s hand in his. Orlando didn’t know when Viggo’s touch had become so reassuring, but he decided it didn’t matter. He let Viggo lead him up the stairs to his bedroom.

Orlando took in the candles set out to give the room a solow,low, the music playing in the background with a sultry rhythm that pulsed in the air and in his blood. This was a scene for seduction. “You don’t have to seduce me,” he told Viggo. “I’m already here and willing.”

“Maybe I want to seduce you,” Viggo replied. “First times are special in a relationship. Our first kiss didn’t happen the way I wish it had, but our first night together is going to. If that’s all right with you?”

Orlando couldn’t answer at first. He was too overwhelmed. He couldn’t quite take in that Viggo wanted to go to all this trouble for him. “It’s all right with me,” he said finally.

“Good,” Viggo said, pulling Orlando into his arms and beginning to move slowly to the seductive beat of the music that filled the room.

Orlando relaxed into Viggo’s embrace. There were a lot of things he didn’t know, but he knew how to dance. He let Viggo lead, but he took advantage of every opportunity to brush against Viggo, to let himl thl the effect that he was having on Orlando.

It didn’t take long before dancing wasn’t enough for either of them. Viggo lowered his head to Orlando’s neck, kissing the elegant curve of muscle before nipping at it, just hard enough to leave a little mark. Orlando moaned. It felt so good, so right to be held in Viggo’s arms, to be kissed by Viggo’s lips. He thought they’d left the fireworks behind on the hill, but they seemed to have followed the two men home and were now going off inside Orlando. When Viggo’s hands slid under his sweater and up his back, Orlando gave up even trying to dance. He just leaned against Viggo and let the older man do what he wanted.

What he wanted, though, appeared to be simply to touch Orlando’s skin, to trace the lines of his muscles, up his back and down again, fingers finding and caressing his scar as if that gentle touch could erase the mark and all the pain that had accompanied it. When Orlando thought he’d go mad if he didn’t get more, Viggo trailed one hand lower, cupping Orlando’s behind, pulling their groins into alignment. Orlando moaned again. “Take me to bed,” he pleaded, suddenly unable to wait any more.

As if those words were the signal Viggo had been waiting for, he began moving toward the bed, still in time with the music, but no longer the directionless swaying from before. When they reached the bed, Orlando would have fallen back across it, but Viggo stopped him, hands going to the hem of Orlando’s sweater and pulling it over his h “I “Is that all right?” he asked.

“Are you kidding?” Orlando rasped as he attacked the buttons on Viggo’s shirt. When both of them were naked to the waist, Viggo pulled Orlando back against him, bare skin coming into contact with bare skin. Orlando’s hiss of indrawn breath mirrored Viggo’s as they assimilated the new sensations.

Viggo took off his shoes as he undid Orlando’s belt and the button on his jeans. He knelt and removed Orlando’s shoes and socks before helping him step out of his jeans so he was left wearing only his boxers.

Orlando could feel the heat of Viggo’s gaze and read appreciation in the cerulean depths as the older man nudged him to sit on the bed. Orlando complied, scooting back until he was sitting against the headboard. He watched eagerly as Viggo removed his own jeans. He’d seen Viggo in various states of undress before – they shared a trailer, after all – but it had always been out of the corner of his eye or with his attention elsewhere. He’d never had the opportunity or the reason to study the man before him. He took it now, relishing every inch of the broad chest, trim waist, long, lean, powerful thighs as they were revealed. And though it was still veiled, he could see the outline of Viggo’s erection tenting his boxers. It appeared that his cock was just ell ell proportioned as the rest of him. Orlando licked his lips in anticipation.

“Keep looking at me like t” Vi” Viggo warned, “and I might forget what I’m trying to do here.”

“I’ll remind you if you forget,” Orlando assured him.

“Cheeky Elf,” Viggo retorted.

“Filthy human.”

Viggo smiled as he joined Orlando on the bed, crawling on all fours until he could sit facing Orlando, straddling his thighs. With an almost frightening look of concentration, Viggo began caressing Orlando, starting at his neck, working his way down his arms and back up again before exploring his chest and stomach, fingers sliding the edge of Orlando’s boxers down to reveal his tattoo.

“How many times have you come in a row?” Viggo asked conversationally. His eyes never stopped their perusal of Orlando’s body.

“Just…just one,” Orlando stuttered. “Come and you’re finished, right?”

Viggo smiled again, predatorily this tune. Orlando shivered. “Right?”

“Ask me again in the morning,” Viggo answered. “Well see what you say then.”

Orlando shivered again. Viggo had more control than anyone he knew and from the sound of it, he planned to use that control to wring as many orgasms as possible out of Orlando. Come to think of it, that didn’t sound bad at all. He grinned at Viggo and leaned his head back against the headboard, eyes closing.

Viggo’s fingers continued to drift delicately over Orlando’s body as they learned his every contour. Orlando relaxed into the touches. They were just firm enough to avoid tickling, all the while heightening his senses. Viggo urged him to bend his knees so that he was sitting with his knees almost to his chest, legs spread, a posture that would have been terribly vulnerable if he’d been completely naked. With his boxers still in place, though, Orlando was perfectly comfortable as Viggo caressed his calves, the sensitive sides of his knees, his thighs, tracing the edges of his shorts, but never straying inside. Orlando’s cock throbbed, bereft as it was of attention. “Touch me,landlando pleaded.

“I am touching you,” was Viggo’s reply.

Orlando let out a needy moan, one hand capturing Viggo’s and guiding it to his erection. Viggo bestowed a single caress before returnin his his earlier fascination with the inside of Orlando’s elbow. Before Orlando could protest, Viggo leaned forward suddenly and took one of Orlando’s nipples between his teeth, not biting, just holding. A hand moved to catch the other nipple in an equivalent vice. The intensitythe the sensation was more than he was expecting. Apparently Viggo’s gentle caresses had sensitized more than just Orlando’s cock.

He let out a sharp cry at the pleasure that ran through him even before Viggo began sucking at his dusky brown nipple. He arched his back, pushing eagerly into Viggo’s caress. Viggo pulled harder, drawing more of Orlando’s flesh into the hot cavern of his mouth, circling the taut peak with his tongue, teasing and laving it with alternately gentle and firm caresses. Orlando squirmed under the lash of feelings. He’d never much cared for having his nipples sucked, preferring to have his cock sucked instead, but then, no one had ever lavished attention on him the way Viggo was.

Just when he thought he couldn’t stand any more, Viggo’s lips slid lower, playing across the ridges of his stomach to his navel. Viggo’s tongue thrust playfully into Orlando’s belly button, tickling even as it mimicked the action that Orlando fervently hoped their bodies would soon be engaged in. Then the seeking tongue moved even lower to lap at Orlando’s tattoo. The skin under the tattoo wasn’t really more sensitive than the skin around it, but Orlando had always found that attention paid to the tattoo was more erotic than attention paid to the rest of his skin. Viggo seemed to realize that instinctively, focusing his attention on that one patch of skin, nipping and biting, licking and sucking, until Orlando was quivering in delight.

Then his head moved lower, his breath hot on Orlando’s erection through the fabric of his boxers. “Viggo!” Orlando pleaded. Viggo gave in, at least a little, mouthing Orlando through his shorts. Orlando raised his hips and grabbed the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. If Viggo wouldn’t do it, he’d do it himself.

Seeing Orlando’s determination, Viggo helped free the younger man from his boxers, tossing them carelessly aside and gazing down on the perfection spread out before him. He had such plans for his lover – oh, he liked the sound of that word! He only hoped his control held long enough to carry them all out. He grinned and got back to the very pleasurable task at hand. The longer he delayed, after all, the more precarious his control would become.

Viggo’s fingers were back to their wandering games, Orlando discovered as soon as his boxers were removed, skimming back over his chest, his hips, his legs, studiously avoiding the one spot that wanted attention. Then they were there, skimming over his cock with the same delicacy that they had used on the rest of his body. Orlando’s hips bucked up into the touch, wanting more than just that fleeting contact. Viggo complied, closing his fingers around Orlando’s erection, lifting it away from his stomach so he could bend and flick his tongue over the weeping tip. Orlando shrieked. There was no other word for the sound that came out of his mouth as he threw his head back in ecstasy. Such a minute touch, and yet so powerful. Anticipation was an incredible aphrodisiac.

When Viggo’s lips closed around the head of his erection and began to draw on him, Orlando thought he’d found paradise. When Viggo sucked him deep, swallowing him whole, he realized he’d never felt anything so intense. When he climaxed in Viggo’s mouth moments later, he understood that he hadn’t known the first thing about pleasure. Until now.

“That’s one,” Viggo said when he had licked Orlando clean. He didn’t count the orgasm on the hill watching the fireworks. There had been too much time between then and now. “How much more can you take?”

Orlando didn’t know, but he was ready to find out. “Try me,” he replied.

Viggo grinned at the challenge as he reached inside the drawer of the bedside table and withdrew some lube. He couldn’t help but wonder how long Orlando’s cockiness would last. All the way to the end, he hoped. He coated his fingers and went back to the gentle caresses, over Orlando’s balls and down into the cleft of his ass this time. Orlando immediately slid down on the bed, opening himself more completely to Viggo’s exploration.

Orlando started to lose patience with those slowly questing fingers, until they started circling his puckered hole. That was a new sensation, one Orlando didn’t mind savoring slowly. “Relax,” he heard Viggo murmur before one finger breached him, just up to the first knuckle. To Orlando, it felt huge. His sphincter spasmed around Viggo’s finger. “Relax,” Viggo whispered again, patiently waiting for Orlando to do as he said. When the tension eased, Viggo slid his finger in a little more, curling it just enough to brush Orlando’s prostate. That took care of the remaining tension as pleasure so intense it stole his breath washed through Orlando.

“What was that?” he asked when he caught his breath again.

“Your prostate,” Viggo told him, rubbing it again.

Orlando could feel himself getting hard again from the stimulation on his prostate and from the rhythm of Viggo’s finger as it thrust and withdrew from his body. After a few minutes, the finger withdrew completely. Orlando whimpered at the loss of contact. Then, the fingers were back, two of them this time, stretching him a little more as they immediately sought his pleasure spot to help counteract any burn. Orlando was panting by that point, completely lost in the feelings Viggo was inspiring. Viggo scissored his fingers gently, stretching Orlando’s entrance even as he continued to stimulate his prostate. Orlando rocked his hips in time with Viggo’s fingers, pushing back against them as they pushed into him, learning the rhythm of their bodies. His cock was starting to throb again in time with Viggo’s thrusting fingers, each brush of his prostate sending another burst of desire through his veins and his erection. When Viggo added a third finger, Orlando writhed with pleasure on the bed, his over-stimulated nerves crying out for completion again. “Finish me off,” he begged.

Viggo took pity on him and fisted his cock in time with his thrusting fingers, pushing Orlando over the edge for a second time. He continued his stroking as Orlando’s tremors subsided, leaving him limp and completely open to Viggo. He reached back in the drawer and pulled out a condom. He was about to open it when Orlando took it from his hand. “I’m clean,” he said softly. “You don’t need it.”

Viggo trembled at the trust Orlando was showing. Fortunately for the younger man, it wasn’t misplaced trust. “You trust me that much?” he marveled.

“With my life,” Orlando answered, throwing the condom on the floor. He spread his legs a little wider, offering himself to Viggo. Then he reached for the lube and spread it on Viggo’s erection.

Viggo took him up on his invitation, sliding Orlando down to lie flat on the bed and moving over him so that their bodies aligned from mouths to chests to groins. Cautiously, Viggo positioned himself at Orlando’s entrance and pushed inside, moving slowly, trying to let the younger man set the pace. Another time, Orlando might have hesitated, but not this time. All he wanted was to finally feel Viggo inside him. He felt the penetration, ial ial at first, then the gentle thrusting of Viggo’s hips that took him deeper each time. After what seemed like an eternity, Viggo was finally seated all the way, and for the first time in his life, Orlando felt complete. “Move,” he urged Viggo. Viggo did as he asked, setting a steady pace. Orlando felt his prostate come to life again as Viggo’s cock brushed it with every thrust. Soon he was matching Viggo’s rhythm, driving them toward the brink. Their release came simultaneously.

Viggo collapsed on top of Orlando, struggling to breathe normally. When he could, he rolled to one side, bringing Orlando with him and snuggling them together. “Stay,” Viggo said softly.

“For as long as you’ll have me,” Orlando replied, drifting off to sleep. His last conscious thought was of his friend who had used fireworks as a euphemism for sex. He finally understood.


Epilogue

Orlando managed to avoid Liv all morning, but she cornered him at lunch. “So?” she asked. “What happened?”

Orlando gave her a big grin, telling in and of itself, he was sure. “Fireworks,” he said and walked away laughing.