No.

Yeah, yeah. Didn’t happen. I know.

No.
By Sonja (limey_sugar@yahoo.co.uk)
Orlando Bloom/Elijah Wood
Dominic Monaghan/Elijah Wood.
R
‘Flipper,’ cos it makes me laugh. Proud of myself for remembering ASS. I always forget.
Fucking with the shooting/training schedules, of course. Can’t be arsed to do actual research. I do have a life, you know. Ok, not really, but still.
__________


Oh, God. He’s. Yeah. Breathe, Elijah.

“Orlando Bloom,” he says, holding his hand out.

“Ehm.” What? Oh, yes. My name. Is Elijah. He just looks at me for a minute, because I’m not taking his hand and shaking it. So he shrugs and walks away. “Wait,” I somehow manage through the fog that’s gathered in my brain.

“Yeah?”

“I, uh, Elijah Wood. That’s me.” Oh, so articulate, Lij. “Been a long day. Sorry.”

The left corner of his mouth goes up in a smile/smirk, and he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, man. I know. Seen ‘Flipper.’” Is he joking? Must be, because he punches me in the arm. Like we’ve been friends for years.

“Fuck you, man.” Smile so he knows I’m not a complete prick.

“Hmm, maybe later.” Winks and walks away. Fuck. Me.

Later. If only he knew it took me three seconds to decide that I wanted him to bury his dick so far in my ass I’d feel it on my tonsils, he wouldn’t throw words around so casually.

_____


We’re out here on the dance floor, and I wonder if he moves like this lying down. Brilliant idea, going clubbing tonight. Glad I thought of it. Even gladder (Gladder? Whatever.) when he takes off his shirt. He’s sweaty and shiny and fuck, he smells really fucking good. And we’re so close together I can feel the heat radiate off his body. He’s got his hands on my hips, moving me with the rhythm of the music, pressed against him; I can feel how hard he is, and I don’t think I can take it much longer.

“’S later,” I whisper into his ear before flicking my tongue inside. “Wanna fuck?”

“Huh?” His eyes go wide for just a second. Oops.

“I said-”

“I heard you.” Smile/smirk. “But no.” What the hell? Did I miss something?

“Fuck off,” under my breath as I pull away, walking back to the bar to get something stronger than beer to wash away the sudden panic I feel. The last thing I wanna think about is this Bloom guy ruining my fucking career by teg thg the wrong person I came on to him. My agent warns me all the time about this, but apparently my dick doesn’t care.

_____


So far so good. A month’s gone by and Orlando hasn’t mentioned one word about my advances in the club. And I haven’t heard my name mentioned inappropriately anywhere or seen anything in print. Good. I won’t tell anyone about the way he made me think he might be interested.

But he’s hot as hell and I can’t stop thinking about how he might fuck. As I watch him practise with the long knives I think maybe he likes to fuck hard and fast from behind; when he’s practising with the bow and arrow, I think maybe he likes to fuck slow and steady, like missionary-style, only with a boy. Yeah, Elijah, you’re cool. Lust is a stupid thing. It makes me avoid being alone with Orlando for fear I may make a fool of myself. With the other guys around, it’s easy to be straight and not let my eyes wander to Orlando’s crotch, and hope to God my hands don’t follow.

_____


When he puts on that damned elf outfit for the first time, I have to shift in the makeup chair so no one can see how fucking hot it makes me. Of course, he sees me shift, and grins at me like an idiot. I really want to hit him, the smug bastard.

“Elijah,” he says to me after filming’s finally done for the day, and I’m dying for a cigarette. “Wanna come round for a beer?”

That’s not unusual; we Hobbits and Orli always have drinks together, so I say, “Yeah, Orli. What time?”

“’Bout an hour, then? Gotta have a shower and get this sodding glue out of my ears.” He grins, smacks me on the arm, and heads to his Jeep. This is the point where I decide I can listen to that fucking accent of his pretty much all goddamned day and not be annoyed. That doesn’t help with the whole lusting-after-the-cock-tease thing though. Nope.

_____


Billy thinks it would be a good idea if we played some stupid drinking game called ‘Secret Word’ or some dumb thing. Well, it’s not dumb, it’s fun as hell, and I seem to be the only one who doesn’t know what the secret word is, because I’ve had to drink the most, and I’m pretty trashed. So trashed that I keep licking Dominic in weird places and laughing about it. Dom thinks it’s funny too, and he’s licking me back, and then we’re kissing. Oh, fuck. Dom can kiss. His tongue is doing amazing things to my tongue right now, and I really hope he doesn’t stop any time soon.

But he does. He does because Orli is saying it’s getting really late and we have to be up for feet in the morning. I don’t think we do, but I’m really drunk, so maybe I’m wrong. So I share a cab with Dom, since we’re both way too drunk to be driving, and we make out the entire way to my apartment. When we get there, I decide that Dom needs to come up to bed with me, so we can finish making out, and maybe I can finally get laid. He thinks it’s a marvellous idea, and so we’re on our way up the stairs, laughing and kissing.

And Dom’s fucking me and it’s really nice. It’s not hard like Knife-Swinging-Orli, or slow like Arrow-Shooting-Orli, but it’s somewhere in the middle like Dom. I’m not thinking about Orlando, I’m really not. Not when Dom comes and I come, and we’re lying in a sticky heap on my bed. No, not at all.

_____


Orlando doesn’t talk to me all fucking day. He makes a conscious effort to avoid me, in fact, and I can’t figure out what the hell his fucking problem is. He had his chance and passed it up. I can’t help it if Dom didn’t make that same mistake. What’s really pissing me off is that I feel guilty for it.

Finally, when I can’t stand another minute of this cold shoulder bullshit, I go and confront him in the catering tent. When he tries to walk away from me, I grab his arm.

“What the fuck, Lij? Let me go, mate.”

“Yeah, Orli. What the fuck? What’s up your ass today?” I almost laugh at that, considering. Until I see the look on his face, and then I feel like a complete shit all over again.

“Not a *fucking* thing. Now let me go. I’ve got a call in two minutes.”

_____


Dominic and I both think it’s best to pretend nothing happened last night. He’s convinced himself he’s straight, and it was just a one-shot deal- not just with me, but with guys in general- and I let him believe it. He’ll come to terms with it sooner or later, and I’ll be there to help him when he does. We’re friends, and friends do things like that.

They don’t, on the other hand, make you want them so bad it hurts, refuse you, and then make you feel like shit for wanting someone else. That’s just fucked up. Goddamned beautiful Orlando. Fuck you. Fuck you and the way you walk with those long legs of yours, and fuck you and the way your eyes light up when you smile. And fuck you for making me fall in fucking love with you. Asshole. Go back to England and leave me the hell alone.

Five months I’ve lusted after your ass, you fucker. Five goddamned months of watching you and wanting you, and just being friends with you. If you don’t want me, fine, but let me go to those who do and let me get over you.

_____


Later, he’s sitting on the bed in my trailer, flipping through my CD collection. Every now and then he must see something he truly hates, because he wrinkles up his nose. It’s cute in a manly sort of way, and I want to tell him so, but I don’t dare. I’ve worked hard at trying not to say dumb things like that, at trying to convince myself I don’t have intense feelings for the bastard who’s sitting on my bed. It isn’t working.

“Lij,” so low I can barely hear him. “I want you to know something.”

“Yeah?” I’m waiting for the punchline, where he says something really stupid, and we both laugh ‘til we cry. It doesn’t come.

“That first day, you know? That day we met?” How the hell could I forget?

“Yeah. What about it, Orli?”

“I want you to know why I didn’t sleep with you.” He takes a deep breath in, flips a page in the CD book, and continues. “I thought we’d be really good mates, and I didn’t wanna fuck that up, you know?” He’s nervous. He says ‘you know’ a lot when he’s nervous. Or excited.

“Well, we are. Look at us.” I mean that. He’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had.

“I know, I know. But,” another deep sigh. “You’re with Dom, and I’m, fuck it. I’m jealous. He has something I let slip away.”

I laugh, and he looks up at me like I just kicked him in the balls. “Dom’s straight, man. Or he thinks he is, anyway. We’re not, um, together.”

“No? So then, um, shit. You wanna go out or something?”

“Yeah, I do.” Surprisingly, I’m not thinking about sex at this moment. “And Orli?”

“Yeah, Lij?”

“I love you.”

“Me too, you know?”

“I know.”

__________
~END.