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salixbabylonLJ made me split this into 2 parts, sorry for any confusion.
At long last, here it is. As you know, Real Life has been majorly kicking my ass for the last few months. And my muse wibbled a lot more than I had anticipated he would. And this chapter ended up about twice as long as I'd planned. And a million other excuses.
Anyway, without further delay:
Title: Educational Endeavors: The Art of Communication (4/8)
Author: Salix
Email: salixbabylon@yahoo.com
Pairing: OB/VM
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Archiving: My site, Aniron, CIB, LBES, Viggorously. All others by request only, please.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Complete fiction. I am implying nothing about the real sexual preferences of the actors herein. Absolutely no disrespect is meant to them.
Summary: Orli is curious... and you know what they say about curiosity and the cat. Luckily Viggo is around to help.
Thank yous: Always to Cindy Lou. Brit-picking beta goddess Aurient. And unending gratitude to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lostiawen for encouragement, education, and betaing.
Author's note: A particular visual image in this bears remarkable similarity to one inlostiawen's "Smutty Ghostbusters - The First Case, Chapter 4." I dunno whose came first, but she said it was fine to leave it. If you haven't, you should definitely go read SG. ;)
Educational Endeavors
The Art of Communication
It was, in fact, a very long day of shooting. Viggo had gotten bashed about quite a lot by the Orcs, and Orlando was for once very happy to be a graceful, not-so-combative, poncy elf. Far fewer bruises and accidental injuries. His assistant had finished de-elfing him, and Viggo was about halfway finished.
He looked about halfway dead as well.
"Viggo?"
"Yeah?" His voice was raspy and exhausted. Viggo's assistant went to get something from the first-aid box, turning her back to them.
Orli smiled. "Impressive fighting today, mate. You certainly put the fear of Men into those poor Orcs."
"Thanks," was all Viggo said, but Orlando could see some of the tension drain off of his face as he leaned his head back, eyes closing.
"I really don't envy you and Elijah," Orlando continued after a moment. "Aragorn and Frodo have the weight of all Middle Earth on them. You guys do amazing work."
Viggo smiled, eyes still closed. "You buttering me up for a reason, Elfboy? I told you I'd make this morning up to you tonight; you don't have to talk me into it." His assistant came back and started cleaning off his makeup.
Orlando cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. How could he say this correctly, so it didn't sound like he was calling things off totally, just for tonight? Right; best just blunder ahead as he always did and sort out the damage later.
"You look like hell, mate. What do you say we do it some other time?" Hopefully that was clear enough. He didn't really know what to say, with the assistant still there.
Viggo quirked an eyebrow but still didn't open his eyes.
"You're completely knackered and I'm a bit wrung out myself. Let's take a raincheck, yeah?" he tried to clarify.
"You're not trying to get out of your homework, are you?" Viggo asked in a very parental tone of voice.
Orlando laughed. "Now Viggo, what would make you think I'd be putting off my studies?"
Finally Viggo opened his eyes and they shared an amused look. "All right. Maybe tomorrow then? Thanks for being so understanding."
Orlando got up, smiling. Viggo's assistant was still fiddling with one of Aragorn's fake wounds. Orli brushed her hands away and kissed Viggo on the forehead, saying, "No worries, mate." He turned to kiss the surprised woman on the cheek too, saying, "As long as I'm kissing people, may as well kiss the pretty ones," and winked as he left the trailer to the sound of their laughter.
*****
As Orlando left the set and drove home, he decided his head was just too fucking full. All this thinking about Viggo and sex and being a poof and just all of it was giving him a massive headache. So much self-analysis was really quite annoying; when did he get so wrapped up in his own head anyway? It wasn't healthy. Tonight, he'd just not think about anything.
So when Orlando got home, he had a shower, made and ate dinner, had a few beers while watching the telly, and briefly went over the latest revisions on tomorrow's script. At a suitably late hour, he undressed and got into bed.
His hands began their familiar nightly journey, exploring, soothing, relaxing his body, until he reached his semi-erect cock. He pushed away thoughts of the blowjob he had given Viggo, although he held onto a certain feeling of smugness for a moment. His hands found a familiar rhythm, steadily stroking himself to arousal, carefully keeping his mind empty and his grip firm. Pleasure built in his body, the tension of the day coalescing, bollocks tightening, almost ready for release. Mind perfectly blank, hands still not hurrying or urgent, but steady and calm, in an almost Zen-like state.
The Zen of Masturbation, he thought, chuckling to himself through his labored breathing as his climax approached. He should tell that to...
"Viggo!" he gasped, as he came.
Fuck!
He lay there, come cooling on his stomach, annoyed. Annoyance messing up perfectly good afterglow, and annoyance with his own annoyance further annoying him. What a waste of a nice, sleepy wank.
So much for not bloody thinking anymore.
Finally, he got up, went to the loo, washed off, and came back to bed.
It didn't mean anything. It wasn't like he'd been thinking about Viggo while he was wanking. Not really. Ok, maybe a bit about blowing Viggo earlier that morning, a brief moment of re-living the feeling of Viggo's cock in his mouth, his musky smell, the satiated expression on Viggo's face afterwards...
But no, he really hadn't been thinking about anything. Nothing at all. And he wasn't thinking about anything now. He would just go to sleep.
Elusive, sleep refused to come.
After several hours of rearranging the pillows every five minutes, counting sheep who teased him with Hobbit-type voices for being a poof, mentally humming himself lullabies, and trying yoga breathing exercises, Orlando reached a conclusion.
It was just that he hadn't gotten laid in a few months.
That was why the last couple of nights had been so brilliant. It was nothing to do with the fact that he was with a man instead of a woman, and nothing at all to do with Viggo.
Yeah. Absolutely.
Finally, as the shadows on the wall deepened and the moon set, he dropped into an uneasy sleep.
*****
"So, what's next then?" Viggo mused aloud. "We've done grammar, so that leaves rhetoric and logic."
The two were alone in the Cuntebago, resting for a few minutes between takes, Orli spread out facedown on the couch, Viggo in one of the makeup chairs.
Orlando snorted. "I've already done logic, mate. Been endlessly trying to sort things out in my head for the last few days."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. And you seemed to like the results, up against the wall here, yesterday morning."
Viggo grinned, a touch of something Orli was beginning to recognize as lust deepening the blue of his eyes. "I did like that, yes. How was that logical, though? Tell me."
Orli fidgeted with the pillow. "I was having trouble with definitions," he said after a moment, shrugging with forced nonchalance. "Decided I didn't care, and to just go after what I wanted. Over-thinking just mucks things up." He glanced up at Viggo.
Viggo smiled. "True enough. So you decided you were all right with being a cocksucker and went out and sucked one?"
Orli blinked, taken back a bit, surprised by Viggo's crudeness. There was an odd edge to his voice, and his eyes had hardened somehow, but Orli couldn't figure out what to make of it. "Something like that, I guess," he replied after a pause.
Did Viggo think it had nothing to do with him at all, that he would have sucked anyone off?
But did it have anything to do with Viggo, at all? Didn't he just decide last night that this "education" with Viggo was just for fun and that he hadn't been getting laid enough lately and that that was why his head was so messed up?
Viggo continued teasing him, "Tsk tsk. Are you certain that you want to skip a lesson, then?"
Skipping a lesson would mean moving beyond blowjobs. "Um," he said stupidly, as he unconsciously clenched his arse.
Viggo noticed the muscles tightening. "Take all the time you need," he said quietly, his expression softening. "I'm in no rush."
Orlando nodded, burying his face in the pillow.
What the fuck? One moment Viggo was calling him a cocksucker and sort of implying that he'd be doing this with anyone, but the next moment... He was being so considerate. Orlando mentally shook his head. Best to focus on the positive; he was almost certainly being over-sensitive.
"Thank you for being so patient with me," he finally said.
There was a knock at the door and a voice outside yelled, "Two minutes!"
Viggo got up and straightened his costume, and Orlando reluctantly got to his feet. As they headed out the door, he briefly touched Orlando's shoulder, saying, "Of course; I care about you."
The whole exchange kept chasing through Orlando's head during the rest of the day of filming, the contradictions between how Viggo had acted, his tones of voice, and how damned confused Orli was now. Thank goodness Legolas just stood there looking thoughtful most of the time, and no one noticed anything strange.
It ended up being another very long day and an even more restless night.
*****
By Thursday afternoon, Orlando thought he was going to throw up.
No, really this time.
He'd blown Viggo; Viggo had done him. Now there was only one thing left. Every time he thought about it, his heart rate doubled, his palms got sweaty, and the backs of his knees felt like somebody had just kicked them, giving out suddenly.
He sat down on a convenient sunny rock, in the park where today's filming was happening. The rest of the Fellowship was still over by the canteen, eating lunch and chatting noisily.
There was absolutely no reason to be this worried about it, of course. He knew Viggo wasn't exactly going to throw him down and rape him. And it wasn't like he'd never had anything up his arse before...
But. This was still very different.
And frankly, Orlando was beginning to wonder if he hadn't crossed the line somewhere. It was all very well and good to be curious about kissing blokes, and it was even all right to want to know what it was like to be sexual with them. But he'd done that now. Buggery was a bit different.
He clenched his arse harder.
Calm down, he thought. He had some experience with this. He'd done almost everything you could do with a girl; he'd certainly used his fingers on their arses before and had had sex there, too, of course. It was all right. Tighter, and they hadn't really seemed to enjoy it in quite the same way.
But maybe that was just those few girls.
Orlando dropped his head into his palms and groaned.
Anyway, he knew what it was like, having his cock up someone's arse. It was fine. It was good; he liked it. He fully endorsed penetration anywhere, really. But, you know, it wasn't new. It wasn't something...
Orlando sighed.
It wasn't something that had the excuse of being a novelty, any more than Viggo sucking his cock had been a novelty. He shivered slightly, feeling a very pleasurable tingle in his pants, thinking about Viggo's blowjob. He'd had that done before and so there hadn't really been anything he was being taught.
Except for the grammar lesson, of course. That had certainly had its educationally redeeming value, as well as the sheer overall novelty of being with a bloke.
And he was still extremely pleased with himself for sucking off Viggo in return. That had been difficult to get his brain around, but not so difficult to get his mouth around. He licked his lips absently, remembering the feeling of having a mouthful of cock, and smiled. He'd quite liked it. Quite a lot in fact, yeah. Definitely, it was something he wanted to do again.
He paused for a moment.
Could he picture doing that to someone other than Viggo? Not really. But, well... He shrugged. He was sure he would; that was that. It wasn't like they were dating or anything. They hadn't even spent a whole night together...
Anyway.
So there really wasn't all that much left that Viggo could teach him. Other than, well, buggery. From the receiving end instead of the pitching end. And that was... That was... odd. That was uncomfortable.
That could very well make him a poof.
You know, if he liked it.
He'd been thinking about the word "bisexual" over the last few days. It was an all right word, because it just sort of implied that you would fuck anyone, and Orlando was absolutely in favor of anyone fucking anyone, because really, as Viggo had said the night of the first kiss (and, god, that had been a brilliant kiss), why toss aside half of the world's population? Now the whole world was open to him.
Except for the fucking part.
Well, the him-being-fucked part.
So there it was, really, that's what it came down to. The only thing left on the curriculum was Orlando getting fucked up the arse and he wasn't sure he was ready for that.
Plus, Viggo's... equipment was... rather... um. Large. Not hideously frighteningly large, by any means, but certainly larger than, say, a finger. Larger than the girl's fingers he'd had up his arse, larger than his own fingers which had made the same exploratory journey a few times to see if he could find that elusive prostate thing, and larger even than a girlfriend's dildo that they'd tried out once just to see if he would like it. He hadn't particularly; nothing exciting had happened.
He took a deep breath, trying to remember the experience and unclench his arse, which had tightened up again.
It hadn't hurt. They had used plenty of lube and the slender toy had slid in quite smoothly; his girlfriend had seemed to know what she was doing. It felt a bit uncomfortably full, but not in a painful or terribly bad sort of way...
But not as full as he was going to feel with Viggo's cock up his arse. In his mind, Viggo's disembodied cock suddenly took on gargantuan proportions and Orlando saw it chasing him around the set, eagerly trying to bury itself in his arse. He giggled to himself somewhat hysterically for a few minutes.
Pulling himself back together, he sighed.
God, this was so not going work. Maybe he should just tell Viggo that he had learned everything he was interested in learning and that would be the end of it.
The sudden presence of a hand on his shoulder made him practically jump out of his skin.
"My dear boy, you're thinking so hard, I'm surprised smoke isn't coming out of your ears. Are you quite all right?" Ian's dignified voice inquired.
Orlando nodded, taking a few deep breaths, suddenly terrified that he might have been talking out loud to himself again. He cleared his throat and asserted that he was fine. Ian sat down next to him.
"I've come to talk to you about Elijah," Ian started, in a way that made Orli cringe in anticipation of a severe haranguing. "Ever since Sean's party last weekend, you two have been avoiding each other and he keeps casting mournful looks your way. He is obviously a bit hurt about something."
Orlando groaned and leaned his head on Ian's shoulder. "Shit. I don't want to deal with this. I have too much on my mind already."
Ian wrapped a comforting arm around his narrow waist. "I've noticed that you've seemed a bit preoccupied for the last few days. Do you want to talk about anything?"
He did. Desperately. But...
Orlando opened and closed his mouth a few times, but couldn't even think of where to start. And Viggo was very guarded about his private life, anyway. "Maybe later," he said reluctantly.
"Does this have anything to do with your 'educational endeavors' with men?" Ian asked, with a small smirk.
Orli gasped. "How on earth did you know about that?" he blurted.
Ian chuckled. "You just told me, sweetheart. Plus, you look like you're about to burst: you're flushed and," he glanced down at the bulge in Orlando's leggings, "it clearly has something to do with sex."
Fucking hell, the old man was too observant to be tolerated, Orli thought as his cheeks heated up even more with embarrassment. He fiddled with his tunic, draping it across his lap more discreetly.
"If there's something you wish to talk about," Ian offered, standing up, "I'm always available and can promise you complete discretion."
Orlando nodded. "Yeah, thanks." He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet for a moment, before adding, "I might do that."
Ian nodded and walked away.
Orlando spent the last few minutes of the lunch break wondering how angry PJ would be if he just ran off into the forest, screaming, and was never heard from again.
*****
A few hours later, Orlando was standing around while some of the angles were worked out for the next bit of the scene. Making a movie meant an extraordinary amount of time just standing around, waiting for something to happen. Rather tedious.
And dealing with cast-mates he'd rather avoid, he thought, as Billy came over and draped his arm around Orlando's shoulder.
"Oi Orli, we've not seen you for the last few nights; what've you been doin'?" he asked cheerfully, eyes wide and innocent.
Orlando didn't buy it for a moment. He shrugged, avoiding Billy's eyes. "Just busy, you know. Trying to catch up on sleep."
Billy's arm tightened around him and Orli squirmed inside as Dom joined them as well. Fuck. No way he was getting away, now.
"That was quite a party the other night, wasn't it? Especially Elijah's stupid drinking game," Dom mused casually.
Clearly having rehearsed this, Billy added, "Tha's right, we never found out if you liked snoggin' blokes, Orlando. Who didja end up tryin' it out with?"
He shrugged again, looking around for an escape. "No one in particular."
Billy raised his eyebrows skeptically, "Oh? I wouldn't say 'Lijah's no one in particular."
Orlando flinched. He opened his mouth to tell them about Sean, but then realized that if he said anything at all, it would have to involve Elijah, because they clearly already knew something was up. And to distract them from talking about Elijah, he'd probably mention Viggo. And he definitely did not want to talk about Viggo. Or Elijah. Or any of it.
He closed his mouth.
"I knew it!" Dom laughed, "I knew he snogged Elijah. Elwood's been acting pretty strange all week and says he can't remember anything after the game broke up. Bet it must have been a pretty good kiss, then?"
"I dunno," Billy said, looking at the slightly guilty but confused expression on Orlando's face. "How much are you willin' to bet, Dom? Ten quid?"
Dom thought for a moment, "Hmm... Ten pounds or ten New Zealand dollars?"
Orlando carefully started to ease away from them as they got distracted with the current exchange rate, but Billy noticed and wrapped an arm around his waist and drew him back closer.
"Oi, our elf here is tryin' to scarper," Billy said. "I know he didn't snog me, and I know he didn't snog you, and he and Elijah have been avoidin' each other since that night. Let's take him down to the pub and get him right pissed and make him tell us the whole story," he said with a smile that belied the intensity of his stare.
"I'm not avoiding Elijah," Orlando said defensively. It didn't matter, though. They were set on it, and he knew he'd end up at the pub later unless he completely refused, and that would be too obvious to not be incriminating. He sighed with resignation. "Right, I'll come and have a pint."
Billy smiled deviously and hugged him. "'Course you will. It's no use resistin' Hobbits; we're very determined."
*****
Despite the determination of Billy and Dom, Orlando had successfully evaded their nosy questions. He also managed to mostly avoid Elijah, who showed up late at the pub and left early with Sean. The others had had a lot to drink and were easily diverted from uncomfortable lines of questioning by Orlando's offers to buy the next round or suggesting a game of eight-ball.
And then it was suddenly Friday night.
Orlando wanted to rewind the week of weirdness and tension. They only got one day off, although Saturday would be a half-day for most of the cast.
Everything had been so much more simple a week ago. A week ago, if Viggo had asked him to come over for dinner, he wouldn't have thought anything of it. Just dinner, good conversation, drinking too much beer, and generally wondering if he was making an arse of himself in front of Viggo. The usual.
But now...
Well. Now it was seven days since Viggo had kissed him. Seven days since 'I wonder if I sort of fancy the lads' had turned into 'I wonder what Viggo's cock up my arse would feel like.'
Fuck. No wonder his head hurt, he thought as he knocked on the door.
"Rhetoric is the art of speaking, of persuasion, of communicating," Viggo said as he opened the door.
Orlando rolled his eyes. "Hey man, it's nice to see you, too. Yeah, I had a long week, how was yours? Great weather though, isn't it?" he said sarcastically as he went into the kitchen, helping himself to a beer from the refrigerator and opening the oven to see what was cooking.
Viggo followed him, raising his eyebrows at Orli's presumptiveness in his kitchen.
"Do you ever get tired of being the most random person on the planet?" Orli asked, turning around.
"Nope," Viggo grinned. "Eggplant parmesan."
Well, that explained the gooey red mess in the oven. "Smells lovely. Now, what was that about the art of communication?"
"Tonight's lesson," Viggo said, eyes gleaming. Yes, it was that look again. The one that seemed to see through his clothes. The one that said 'I know what your come tastes like.' Orlando shivered, his prick tingling. Too bad he was so hungry that his stomach was rumbling or maybe he'd pounce on Viggo right now and to hell with tonight's lesson.
But then again... All his fretting from the last few days flooded back into him. Maybe not.
Bugger it, he thought, downing his beer and then choking as he realized his own pun. All this tension was just going to ruin everything. But here in his hand was the answer.
Beer would save him, keep him from getting too tense, from losing it totally. A brilliant plan.
Absolutely.
Beer was the best invention ever.
Throughout dinner (which was quite tasty), Orlando had several more drinks than usual. Viggo smiled at him, amused and quite possibly aware of the reason behind his sudden thirst. They talked easily, of the last week's scenes, of where Craig had said the best hiking was, of Billy's annoying habit of always being right about things, of whether or not Elves could sweat.
And then dinner was over. Time once again ground to a halt, somewhere in the pit of Orlando's stomach. He really wished it would stop doing that.
Sodding Time.
"So, rhetoric," Orli prompted, as he sat down on the couch after a quick trip to the loo, draping his legs across Viggo's lap. He could do this now; he was ready. "I think I do fairly well at speaking. It is, in fact, sort of my job," he grinned.
"Indeed," Viggo said, pulling him into his lap. "So you have confidence in your mastery of the art of oration, then?"
Orlando smiled and leaned forward. He kissed Viggo slowly, tenderly, a sensation of right-ness, of home-ness, of completion, washing over him, filling in all the shaky nooks and crannies where doubt and fear and confusion had been gathering for the last four days. "Yeah, I think so. Don't you?"
"I think communication can always be improved," Viggo answered before pressing their mouths back together, his warm hands stroking Orlando's back and thighs, not arousing yet, still relaxing, but nonetheless hinting at what was to come. Viggo was great with his hands.
And mouth, Orli thought, as Viggo's tongue slipped past his. Stubble catching the slight roughness on Orli's upper lip, lips moving firmly, not sucking, not eating, but just simply steadily taking Orlando's mouth, gently yet firmly and undeniably. Making him feel consumed and seduced, like he was the most desirable thing ever. As if Viggo hungered for him. Cared for him.
As he'd said in the trailer on Wednesday.
Orli mentally snorted. Viggo was going to give him lessons on communication. The man was completely random most of the time and was always sending conflicting messages. Well, maybe only for the last week, to be fair. But still. It was hardly like Viggo had demonstrated authority in the field. Orlando had no idea what the hell was going on inside Viggo and doubted that even if he somehow spent the rest of his life with him, that he ever would. He was a jumbled up, confusing, abstract, mad poetic artist, and Orli would probably always be hard pressed to figure out what was going on in Viggo's head.
Not that it wasn't worth trying, though.
Viggo pulled away from his mouth. "What are you thinking about?" he mumbled as his lips traveled along Orlando's jaw to his throat.
"Communicating," Orli replied, moving his head to bare more skin.
Viggo put one hand over Orli's heart. "With this?" he asked, licking a path up to Orlando's ear and then a letting cool breath wash over it, making him shiver. Viggo tweaked the nipple which had hardened under his palm and slid his hand down Orlando's ribs and stomach to firmly cup Orli's erection. "Or with this?"
Orlando's hips involuntarily thrust forward into Viggo's hand. He pulled Viggo's face away from his throat, so that their eyes met. "With my head, mate, and not the little one in your hand." They both chuckled.
Viggo tilted his head to the side, waiting for Orli to elaborate as his hands slid down to the hem of Orli's t-shirt and tugged it up.
"Just thinking about the irony of Mr. Random being my teacher," he smiled.
Viggo paused for a moment and leaned in to bite him gently on the shoulder. "I suppose you might have a point in that. Why don't we both try to work on it, then? You tell me what you want, what you like, how you feel, and I'll try to respond in kind."
Viggo kissed him again and Orlando could feel his body starting to lose control. Viggo apparently noticed, too, and pulled back a bit. "You get so excited, so quickly. It's amazing. It's like a sudden storm - lightning, blinding brightness out from darkness, instantly. Like you're so filled up with lust that it only takes a touch from me to get you to the edge."
Orlando ground his now-throbbing cock into Viggo's hand. Christ, but the man could speak. Someday he was going to make him talk him to orgasm, if that was even possible. He smiled. "Well, I'd say that's your fault, mate. This isn't quite a typical reaction for me." It was true, too; no one else had ever made desire flood through him so fast.
Their kisses deepened, Orlando's tongue pushing into Viggo's mouth in the same rhythm as his erection into Viggo's hand. Viggo pushed him away for a moment to strip off both of their shirts and tear open Orli's trousers. They ended up lying on the couch, Orli on the bottom again, grinding together, sucking the breath out of each other, hands grasping urgently.
Viggo finally managed to move away enough to strip Orli of the last of his clothes. The feeling of his bare skin touching Viggo's chest, Viggo's jeans, their bare ankles brushing together, was just almost too much for Orlando. "Oh, fuck, Viggo, stop, I'm going to come," he groaned.
Viggo grinned evilly. "Then this would be a good time to test your recovery speed."
That voice, the pressure of Viggo's thigh against his bollocks, the feeling of Viggo's hard cock next to Orlando's own, the sense-memory of that first night a week ago on Sean's couch... Orlando's hands clenched convulsively as he bucked up into Viggo, Viggo's tongue sliding against his, catching his groan as Orlando came, helpless, overwhelmed, thoroughly conquered.
Deliciously so.
Viggo could conquer him any time.
Orlando came back to himself when Viggo started trailing his fingers through the slippery mess on his stomach.
"Tissue?" Orli asked.
"I've a better a idea," Viggo smirked. Thoroughly coating a finger in Orli's semen, he bent one of his legs up. Locking eyes, Viggo's wet finger traced down to his opening and began to gently tease. "How does this feel?" he whispered.
"Ok," Orlando replied, trying not to tense up. And it was ok. Slowly he relaxed and sighed. "Good."
Viggo removed his finger and rewet it, after pulling a small bottle of lubricant out of a drawer in the coffee table. "You're so tense. Try to relax," he whispered into Orli's ear, slowly working his fingertip in. His still-clothed groin pulsed into Orlando's hip, matching the rhythm of the finger breaching his body.
In. Oh god, it was inside him. Viggo's finger. And that huge cock (ok, maybe not huge, but certainly not at all small or even medium-sized), that big hard cock grinding against his hip, was going to go inside him.
Tonight. Now.
Viggo pushed a bit farther in, suddenly making Orli hiss. "It, um, it kind of stings," he whispered, heat flooding his face. It wasn't painful, exactly. Yet.
"You have to relax," Viggo said patiently, "Take a few deep breaths."”
He tried. Viggo's cock at his hip felt threatening. It was going to hurt so much... He took a deep breath. Maybe it would be better once it was in.
Maybe.
Viggo twisted his finger, making sure it was plenty slick, to ease any undue friction. He added another finger.
Orlando had gone completely still, trying not to panic, trying so hard to breathe and relax that his arse with Viggo's finger felt like it was a million miles away, his ears filled with the deafening sound of his heart pounding, burning with embarrassment.
Gradually, he heard Viggo's concerned voice, calling him back. "Orlando? Are you all right?"
He was tense everywhere: his body taut, fingers and toes curled, the slight sweat from his previous orgasm turned clammy and cold. He nodded.
Viggo pressed a bit further in and Orli's arse clenched even more. He accidentally whimpered.
"Christ, you're going to break my fingers if you clench any tighter. Am I hurting you?" Viggo said. "Talk to me. Does it hurt?"
Orlando felt like he wanted to die. "Um. Yeah. But just... Maybe it'll stop, right?" The hopeful note in his voice sounded pathetic even to him.
Viggo slowly eased his fingers out.
"No, um, don't stop," Orli said frantically. "I mean, I, um, I want you to. I'm sorry. It'll get better. I'll relax. I promise." Fuck, he was meant to be an actor, why couldn't he do this, pretend like everything was fine? It didn't hurt that much. Not like breaking bones or anything major.
Fuck.
Viggo reached for a tissue to wipe off his hand and leaned over to kiss Orlando as he sat up. "No, I don't think so. Not tonight. We shouldn't have tried this so soon."
"But..." Orli whispered. He looked pointedly at Viggo's cock straining against his jeans and reached out for it. "You didn't come," he said plaintively, as Viggo moved off of the couch and began to fumble around with the clothes on the floor. He'd never felt so miserable during sex before. "I'm sorry! Let me do something for you," he pleaded.
"No, it's ok. Don't worry about it," Viggo said, pulling on his shirt. He went into the bathroom and turned on the sink. Then he closed the door.
Orlando banged his head on the arm of the couch and swore steadily at himself for a few minutes.
He'd totally killed the mood. Left the poor guy with a hard-on that he wouldn't even let Orli help him with. He knew just how Viggo probably felt, brain and feelings totally uninterested in getting off, but his body demanding release. Last time something like this had happened to him, Orlando had done the same thing, gone into the loo and had a quick, joyless toss, with about as much pleasure as a sneeze. He'd felt awful inside afterwards.
And now that was what Viggo was doing. Because of him. Fuck!
And Orlando didn't even have the excuse of being a fifteen year old girl, either.
Christ, he was such a fucking failure. He couldn't do this. He quickly threw on his clothes and scrawled an "I'm sorry!" note for Viggo and ran.
He ran home like the wind, like a legion of Orcs were chasing Legolas, faster than Thought itself, making it safely inside his home and unplugging the phone even before Viggo had discovered that he had gone.
So much for communicating, Orlando thought as he miserably threw himself onto his bed.
**Part 4 (continued)**
At long last, here it is. As you know, Real Life has been majorly kicking my ass for the last few months. And my muse wibbled a lot more than I had anticipated he would. And this chapter ended up about twice as long as I'd planned. And a million other excuses.
Anyway, without further delay:
Title: Educational Endeavors: The Art of Communication (4/8)
Author: Salix
Email: salixbabylon@yahoo.com
Pairing: OB/VM
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Archiving: My site, Aniron, CIB, LBES, Viggorously. All others by request only, please.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Complete fiction. I am implying nothing about the real sexual preferences of the actors herein. Absolutely no disrespect is meant to them.
Summary: Orli is curious... and you know what they say about curiosity and the cat. Luckily Viggo is around to help.
Thank yous: Always to Cindy Lou. Brit-picking beta goddess Aurient. And unending gratitude to
lostiawen for encouragement, education, and betaing.Author's note: A particular visual image in this bears remarkable similarity to one in
lostiawen's "Smutty Ghostbusters - The First Case, Chapter 4." I dunno whose came first, but she said it was fine to leave it. If you haven't, you should definitely go read SG. ;)It was, in fact, a very long day of shooting. Viggo had gotten bashed about quite a lot by the Orcs, and Orlando was for once very happy to be a graceful, not-so-combative, poncy elf. Far fewer bruises and accidental injuries. His assistant had finished de-elfing him, and Viggo was about halfway finished.
He looked about halfway dead as well.
"Viggo?"
"Yeah?" His voice was raspy and exhausted. Viggo's assistant went to get something from the first-aid box, turning her back to them.
Orli smiled. "Impressive fighting today, mate. You certainly put the fear of Men into those poor Orcs."
"Thanks," was all Viggo said, but Orlando could see some of the tension drain off of his face as he leaned his head back, eyes closing.
"I really don't envy you and Elijah," Orlando continued after a moment. "Aragorn and Frodo have the weight of all Middle Earth on them. You guys do amazing work."
Viggo smiled, eyes still closed. "You buttering me up for a reason, Elfboy? I told you I'd make this morning up to you tonight; you don't have to talk me into it." His assistant came back and started cleaning off his makeup.
Orlando cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. How could he say this correctly, so it didn't sound like he was calling things off totally, just for tonight? Right; best just blunder ahead as he always did and sort out the damage later.
"You look like hell, mate. What do you say we do it some other time?" Hopefully that was clear enough. He didn't really know what to say, with the assistant still there.
Viggo quirked an eyebrow but still didn't open his eyes.
"You're completely knackered and I'm a bit wrung out myself. Let's take a raincheck, yeah?" he tried to clarify.
"You're not trying to get out of your homework, are you?" Viggo asked in a very parental tone of voice.
Orlando laughed. "Now Viggo, what would make you think I'd be putting off my studies?"
Finally Viggo opened his eyes and they shared an amused look. "All right. Maybe tomorrow then? Thanks for being so understanding."
Orlando got up, smiling. Viggo's assistant was still fiddling with one of Aragorn's fake wounds. Orli brushed her hands away and kissed Viggo on the forehead, saying, "No worries, mate." He turned to kiss the surprised woman on the cheek too, saying, "As long as I'm kissing people, may as well kiss the pretty ones," and winked as he left the trailer to the sound of their laughter.
As Orlando left the set and drove home, he decided his head was just too fucking full. All this thinking about Viggo and sex and being a poof and just all of it was giving him a massive headache. So much self-analysis was really quite annoying; when did he get so wrapped up in his own head anyway? It wasn't healthy. Tonight, he'd just not think about anything.
So when Orlando got home, he had a shower, made and ate dinner, had a few beers while watching the telly, and briefly went over the latest revisions on tomorrow's script. At a suitably late hour, he undressed and got into bed.
His hands began their familiar nightly journey, exploring, soothing, relaxing his body, until he reached his semi-erect cock. He pushed away thoughts of the blowjob he had given Viggo, although he held onto a certain feeling of smugness for a moment. His hands found a familiar rhythm, steadily stroking himself to arousal, carefully keeping his mind empty and his grip firm. Pleasure built in his body, the tension of the day coalescing, bollocks tightening, almost ready for release. Mind perfectly blank, hands still not hurrying or urgent, but steady and calm, in an almost Zen-like state.
The Zen of Masturbation, he thought, chuckling to himself through his labored breathing as his climax approached. He should tell that to...
"Viggo!" he gasped, as he came.
Fuck!
He lay there, come cooling on his stomach, annoyed. Annoyance messing up perfectly good afterglow, and annoyance with his own annoyance further annoying him. What a waste of a nice, sleepy wank.
So much for not bloody thinking anymore.
Finally, he got up, went to the loo, washed off, and came back to bed.
It didn't mean anything. It wasn't like he'd been thinking about Viggo while he was wanking. Not really. Ok, maybe a bit about blowing Viggo earlier that morning, a brief moment of re-living the feeling of Viggo's cock in his mouth, his musky smell, the satiated expression on Viggo's face afterwards...
But no, he really hadn't been thinking about anything. Nothing at all. And he wasn't thinking about anything now. He would just go to sleep.
Elusive, sleep refused to come.
After several hours of rearranging the pillows every five minutes, counting sheep who teased him with Hobbit-type voices for being a poof, mentally humming himself lullabies, and trying yoga breathing exercises, Orlando reached a conclusion.
It was just that he hadn't gotten laid in a few months.
That was why the last couple of nights had been so brilliant. It was nothing to do with the fact that he was with a man instead of a woman, and nothing at all to do with Viggo.
Yeah. Absolutely.
Finally, as the shadows on the wall deepened and the moon set, he dropped into an uneasy sleep.
"So, what's next then?" Viggo mused aloud. "We've done grammar, so that leaves rhetoric and logic."
The two were alone in the Cuntebago, resting for a few minutes between takes, Orli spread out facedown on the couch, Viggo in one of the makeup chairs.
Orlando snorted. "I've already done logic, mate. Been endlessly trying to sort things out in my head for the last few days."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. And you seemed to like the results, up against the wall here, yesterday morning."
Viggo grinned, a touch of something Orli was beginning to recognize as lust deepening the blue of his eyes. "I did like that, yes. How was that logical, though? Tell me."
Orli fidgeted with the pillow. "I was having trouble with definitions," he said after a moment, shrugging with forced nonchalance. "Decided I didn't care, and to just go after what I wanted. Over-thinking just mucks things up." He glanced up at Viggo.
Viggo smiled. "True enough. So you decided you were all right with being a cocksucker and went out and sucked one?"
Orli blinked, taken back a bit, surprised by Viggo's crudeness. There was an odd edge to his voice, and his eyes had hardened somehow, but Orli couldn't figure out what to make of it. "Something like that, I guess," he replied after a pause.
Did Viggo think it had nothing to do with him at all, that he would have sucked anyone off?
But did it have anything to do with Viggo, at all? Didn't he just decide last night that this "education" with Viggo was just for fun and that he hadn't been getting laid enough lately and that that was why his head was so messed up?
Viggo continued teasing him, "Tsk tsk. Are you certain that you want to skip a lesson, then?"
Skipping a lesson would mean moving beyond blowjobs. "Um," he said stupidly, as he unconsciously clenched his arse.
Viggo noticed the muscles tightening. "Take all the time you need," he said quietly, his expression softening. "I'm in no rush."
Orlando nodded, burying his face in the pillow.
What the fuck? One moment Viggo was calling him a cocksucker and sort of implying that he'd be doing this with anyone, but the next moment... He was being so considerate. Orlando mentally shook his head. Best to focus on the positive; he was almost certainly being over-sensitive.
"Thank you for being so patient with me," he finally said.
There was a knock at the door and a voice outside yelled, "Two minutes!"
Viggo got up and straightened his costume, and Orlando reluctantly got to his feet. As they headed out the door, he briefly touched Orlando's shoulder, saying, "Of course; I care about you."
The whole exchange kept chasing through Orlando's head during the rest of the day of filming, the contradictions between how Viggo had acted, his tones of voice, and how damned confused Orli was now. Thank goodness Legolas just stood there looking thoughtful most of the time, and no one noticed anything strange.
It ended up being another very long day and an even more restless night.
By Thursday afternoon, Orlando thought he was going to throw up.
No, really this time.
He'd blown Viggo; Viggo had done him. Now there was only one thing left. Every time he thought about it, his heart rate doubled, his palms got sweaty, and the backs of his knees felt like somebody had just kicked them, giving out suddenly.
He sat down on a convenient sunny rock, in the park where today's filming was happening. The rest of the Fellowship was still over by the canteen, eating lunch and chatting noisily.
There was absolutely no reason to be this worried about it, of course. He knew Viggo wasn't exactly going to throw him down and rape him. And it wasn't like he'd never had anything up his arse before...
But. This was still very different.
And frankly, Orlando was beginning to wonder if he hadn't crossed the line somewhere. It was all very well and good to be curious about kissing blokes, and it was even all right to want to know what it was like to be sexual with them. But he'd done that now. Buggery was a bit different.
He clenched his arse harder.
Calm down, he thought. He had some experience with this. He'd done almost everything you could do with a girl; he'd certainly used his fingers on their arses before and had had sex there, too, of course. It was all right. Tighter, and they hadn't really seemed to enjoy it in quite the same way.
But maybe that was just those few girls.
Orlando dropped his head into his palms and groaned.
Anyway, he knew what it was like, having his cock up someone's arse. It was fine. It was good; he liked it. He fully endorsed penetration anywhere, really. But, you know, it wasn't new. It wasn't something...
Orlando sighed.
It wasn't something that had the excuse of being a novelty, any more than Viggo sucking his cock had been a novelty. He shivered slightly, feeling a very pleasurable tingle in his pants, thinking about Viggo's blowjob. He'd had that done before and so there hadn't really been anything he was being taught.
Except for the grammar lesson, of course. That had certainly had its educationally redeeming value, as well as the sheer overall novelty of being with a bloke.
And he was still extremely pleased with himself for sucking off Viggo in return. That had been difficult to get his brain around, but not so difficult to get his mouth around. He licked his lips absently, remembering the feeling of having a mouthful of cock, and smiled. He'd quite liked it. Quite a lot in fact, yeah. Definitely, it was something he wanted to do again.
He paused for a moment.
Could he picture doing that to someone other than Viggo? Not really. But, well... He shrugged. He was sure he would; that was that. It wasn't like they were dating or anything. They hadn't even spent a whole night together...
Anyway.
So there really wasn't all that much left that Viggo could teach him. Other than, well, buggery. From the receiving end instead of the pitching end. And that was... That was... odd. That was uncomfortable.
That could very well make him a poof.
You know, if he liked it.
He'd been thinking about the word "bisexual" over the last few days. It was an all right word, because it just sort of implied that you would fuck anyone, and Orlando was absolutely in favor of anyone fucking anyone, because really, as Viggo had said the night of the first kiss (and, god, that had been a brilliant kiss), why toss aside half of the world's population? Now the whole world was open to him.
Except for the fucking part.
Well, the him-being-fucked part.
So there it was, really, that's what it came down to. The only thing left on the curriculum was Orlando getting fucked up the arse and he wasn't sure he was ready for that.
Plus, Viggo's... equipment was... rather... um. Large. Not hideously frighteningly large, by any means, but certainly larger than, say, a finger. Larger than the girl's fingers he'd had up his arse, larger than his own fingers which had made the same exploratory journey a few times to see if he could find that elusive prostate thing, and larger even than a girlfriend's dildo that they'd tried out once just to see if he would like it. He hadn't particularly; nothing exciting had happened.
He took a deep breath, trying to remember the experience and unclench his arse, which had tightened up again.
It hadn't hurt. They had used plenty of lube and the slender toy had slid in quite smoothly; his girlfriend had seemed to know what she was doing. It felt a bit uncomfortably full, but not in a painful or terribly bad sort of way...
But not as full as he was going to feel with Viggo's cock up his arse. In his mind, Viggo's disembodied cock suddenly took on gargantuan proportions and Orlando saw it chasing him around the set, eagerly trying to bury itself in his arse. He giggled to himself somewhat hysterically for a few minutes.
Pulling himself back together, he sighed.
God, this was so not going work. Maybe he should just tell Viggo that he had learned everything he was interested in learning and that would be the end of it.
The sudden presence of a hand on his shoulder made him practically jump out of his skin.
"My dear boy, you're thinking so hard, I'm surprised smoke isn't coming out of your ears. Are you quite all right?" Ian's dignified voice inquired.
Orlando nodded, taking a few deep breaths, suddenly terrified that he might have been talking out loud to himself again. He cleared his throat and asserted that he was fine. Ian sat down next to him.
"I've come to talk to you about Elijah," Ian started, in a way that made Orli cringe in anticipation of a severe haranguing. "Ever since Sean's party last weekend, you two have been avoiding each other and he keeps casting mournful looks your way. He is obviously a bit hurt about something."
Orlando groaned and leaned his head on Ian's shoulder. "Shit. I don't want to deal with this. I have too much on my mind already."
Ian wrapped a comforting arm around his narrow waist. "I've noticed that you've seemed a bit preoccupied for the last few days. Do you want to talk about anything?"
He did. Desperately. But...
Orlando opened and closed his mouth a few times, but couldn't even think of where to start. And Viggo was very guarded about his private life, anyway. "Maybe later," he said reluctantly.
"Does this have anything to do with your 'educational endeavors' with men?" Ian asked, with a small smirk.
Orli gasped. "How on earth did you know about that?" he blurted.
Ian chuckled. "You just told me, sweetheart. Plus, you look like you're about to burst: you're flushed and," he glanced down at the bulge in Orlando's leggings, "it clearly has something to do with sex."
Fucking hell, the old man was too observant to be tolerated, Orli thought as his cheeks heated up even more with embarrassment. He fiddled with his tunic, draping it across his lap more discreetly.
"If there's something you wish to talk about," Ian offered, standing up, "I'm always available and can promise you complete discretion."
Orlando nodded. "Yeah, thanks." He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet for a moment, before adding, "I might do that."
Ian nodded and walked away.
Orlando spent the last few minutes of the lunch break wondering how angry PJ would be if he just ran off into the forest, screaming, and was never heard from again.
A few hours later, Orlando was standing around while some of the angles were worked out for the next bit of the scene. Making a movie meant an extraordinary amount of time just standing around, waiting for something to happen. Rather tedious.
And dealing with cast-mates he'd rather avoid, he thought, as Billy came over and draped his arm around Orlando's shoulder.
"Oi Orli, we've not seen you for the last few nights; what've you been doin'?" he asked cheerfully, eyes wide and innocent.
Orlando didn't buy it for a moment. He shrugged, avoiding Billy's eyes. "Just busy, you know. Trying to catch up on sleep."
Billy's arm tightened around him and Orli squirmed inside as Dom joined them as well. Fuck. No way he was getting away, now.
"That was quite a party the other night, wasn't it? Especially Elijah's stupid drinking game," Dom mused casually.
Clearly having rehearsed this, Billy added, "Tha's right, we never found out if you liked snoggin' blokes, Orlando. Who didja end up tryin' it out with?"
He shrugged again, looking around for an escape. "No one in particular."
Billy raised his eyebrows skeptically, "Oh? I wouldn't say 'Lijah's no one in particular."
Orlando flinched. He opened his mouth to tell them about Sean, but then realized that if he said anything at all, it would have to involve Elijah, because they clearly already knew something was up. And to distract them from talking about Elijah, he'd probably mention Viggo. And he definitely did not want to talk about Viggo. Or Elijah. Or any of it.
He closed his mouth.
"I knew it!" Dom laughed, "I knew he snogged Elijah. Elwood's been acting pretty strange all week and says he can't remember anything after the game broke up. Bet it must have been a pretty good kiss, then?"
"I dunno," Billy said, looking at the slightly guilty but confused expression on Orlando's face. "How much are you willin' to bet, Dom? Ten quid?"
Dom thought for a moment, "Hmm... Ten pounds or ten New Zealand dollars?"
Orlando carefully started to ease away from them as they got distracted with the current exchange rate, but Billy noticed and wrapped an arm around his waist and drew him back closer.
"Oi, our elf here is tryin' to scarper," Billy said. "I know he didn't snog me, and I know he didn't snog you, and he and Elijah have been avoidin' each other since that night. Let's take him down to the pub and get him right pissed and make him tell us the whole story," he said with a smile that belied the intensity of his stare.
"I'm not avoiding Elijah," Orlando said defensively. It didn't matter, though. They were set on it, and he knew he'd end up at the pub later unless he completely refused, and that would be too obvious to not be incriminating. He sighed with resignation. "Right, I'll come and have a pint."
Billy smiled deviously and hugged him. "'Course you will. It's no use resistin' Hobbits; we're very determined."
Despite the determination of Billy and Dom, Orlando had successfully evaded their nosy questions. He also managed to mostly avoid Elijah, who showed up late at the pub and left early with Sean. The others had had a lot to drink and were easily diverted from uncomfortable lines of questioning by Orlando's offers to buy the next round or suggesting a game of eight-ball.
And then it was suddenly Friday night.
Orlando wanted to rewind the week of weirdness and tension. They only got one day off, although Saturday would be a half-day for most of the cast.
Everything had been so much more simple a week ago. A week ago, if Viggo had asked him to come over for dinner, he wouldn't have thought anything of it. Just dinner, good conversation, drinking too much beer, and generally wondering if he was making an arse of himself in front of Viggo. The usual.
But now...
Well. Now it was seven days since Viggo had kissed him. Seven days since 'I wonder if I sort of fancy the lads' had turned into 'I wonder what Viggo's cock up my arse would feel like.'
Fuck. No wonder his head hurt, he thought as he knocked on the door.
"Rhetoric is the art of speaking, of persuasion, of communicating," Viggo said as he opened the door.
Orlando rolled his eyes. "Hey man, it's nice to see you, too. Yeah, I had a long week, how was yours? Great weather though, isn't it?" he said sarcastically as he went into the kitchen, helping himself to a beer from the refrigerator and opening the oven to see what was cooking.
Viggo followed him, raising his eyebrows at Orli's presumptiveness in his kitchen.
"Do you ever get tired of being the most random person on the planet?" Orli asked, turning around.
"Nope," Viggo grinned. "Eggplant parmesan."
Well, that explained the gooey red mess in the oven. "Smells lovely. Now, what was that about the art of communication?"
"Tonight's lesson," Viggo said, eyes gleaming. Yes, it was that look again. The one that seemed to see through his clothes. The one that said 'I know what your come tastes like.' Orlando shivered, his prick tingling. Too bad he was so hungry that his stomach was rumbling or maybe he'd pounce on Viggo right now and to hell with tonight's lesson.
But then again... All his fretting from the last few days flooded back into him. Maybe not.
Bugger it, he thought, downing his beer and then choking as he realized his own pun. All this tension was just going to ruin everything. But here in his hand was the answer.
Beer would save him, keep him from getting too tense, from losing it totally. A brilliant plan.
Absolutely.
Beer was the best invention ever.
Throughout dinner (which was quite tasty), Orlando had several more drinks than usual. Viggo smiled at him, amused and quite possibly aware of the reason behind his sudden thirst. They talked easily, of the last week's scenes, of where Craig had said the best hiking was, of Billy's annoying habit of always being right about things, of whether or not Elves could sweat.
And then dinner was over. Time once again ground to a halt, somewhere in the pit of Orlando's stomach. He really wished it would stop doing that.
Sodding Time.
"So, rhetoric," Orli prompted, as he sat down on the couch after a quick trip to the loo, draping his legs across Viggo's lap. He could do this now; he was ready. "I think I do fairly well at speaking. It is, in fact, sort of my job," he grinned.
"Indeed," Viggo said, pulling him into his lap. "So you have confidence in your mastery of the art of oration, then?"
Orlando smiled and leaned forward. He kissed Viggo slowly, tenderly, a sensation of right-ness, of home-ness, of completion, washing over him, filling in all the shaky nooks and crannies where doubt and fear and confusion had been gathering for the last four days. "Yeah, I think so. Don't you?"
"I think communication can always be improved," Viggo answered before pressing their mouths back together, his warm hands stroking Orlando's back and thighs, not arousing yet, still relaxing, but nonetheless hinting at what was to come. Viggo was great with his hands.
And mouth, Orli thought, as Viggo's tongue slipped past his. Stubble catching the slight roughness on Orli's upper lip, lips moving firmly, not sucking, not eating, but just simply steadily taking Orlando's mouth, gently yet firmly and undeniably. Making him feel consumed and seduced, like he was the most desirable thing ever. As if Viggo hungered for him. Cared for him.
As he'd said in the trailer on Wednesday.
Orli mentally snorted. Viggo was going to give him lessons on communication. The man was completely random most of the time and was always sending conflicting messages. Well, maybe only for the last week, to be fair. But still. It was hardly like Viggo had demonstrated authority in the field. Orlando had no idea what the hell was going on inside Viggo and doubted that even if he somehow spent the rest of his life with him, that he ever would. He was a jumbled up, confusing, abstract, mad poetic artist, and Orli would probably always be hard pressed to figure out what was going on in Viggo's head.
Not that it wasn't worth trying, though.
Viggo pulled away from his mouth. "What are you thinking about?" he mumbled as his lips traveled along Orlando's jaw to his throat.
"Communicating," Orli replied, moving his head to bare more skin.
Viggo put one hand over Orli's heart. "With this?" he asked, licking a path up to Orlando's ear and then a letting cool breath wash over it, making him shiver. Viggo tweaked the nipple which had hardened under his palm and slid his hand down Orlando's ribs and stomach to firmly cup Orli's erection. "Or with this?"
Orlando's hips involuntarily thrust forward into Viggo's hand. He pulled Viggo's face away from his throat, so that their eyes met. "With my head, mate, and not the little one in your hand." They both chuckled.
Viggo tilted his head to the side, waiting for Orli to elaborate as his hands slid down to the hem of Orli's t-shirt and tugged it up.
"Just thinking about the irony of Mr. Random being my teacher," he smiled.
Viggo paused for a moment and leaned in to bite him gently on the shoulder. "I suppose you might have a point in that. Why don't we both try to work on it, then? You tell me what you want, what you like, how you feel, and I'll try to respond in kind."
Viggo kissed him again and Orlando could feel his body starting to lose control. Viggo apparently noticed, too, and pulled back a bit. "You get so excited, so quickly. It's amazing. It's like a sudden storm - lightning, blinding brightness out from darkness, instantly. Like you're so filled up with lust that it only takes a touch from me to get you to the edge."
Orlando ground his now-throbbing cock into Viggo's hand. Christ, but the man could speak. Someday he was going to make him talk him to orgasm, if that was even possible. He smiled. "Well, I'd say that's your fault, mate. This isn't quite a typical reaction for me." It was true, too; no one else had ever made desire flood through him so fast.
Their kisses deepened, Orlando's tongue pushing into Viggo's mouth in the same rhythm as his erection into Viggo's hand. Viggo pushed him away for a moment to strip off both of their shirts and tear open Orli's trousers. They ended up lying on the couch, Orli on the bottom again, grinding together, sucking the breath out of each other, hands grasping urgently.
Viggo finally managed to move away enough to strip Orli of the last of his clothes. The feeling of his bare skin touching Viggo's chest, Viggo's jeans, their bare ankles brushing together, was just almost too much for Orlando. "Oh, fuck, Viggo, stop, I'm going to come," he groaned.
Viggo grinned evilly. "Then this would be a good time to test your recovery speed."
That voice, the pressure of Viggo's thigh against his bollocks, the feeling of Viggo's hard cock next to Orlando's own, the sense-memory of that first night a week ago on Sean's couch... Orlando's hands clenched convulsively as he bucked up into Viggo, Viggo's tongue sliding against his, catching his groan as Orlando came, helpless, overwhelmed, thoroughly conquered.
Deliciously so.
Viggo could conquer him any time.
Orlando came back to himself when Viggo started trailing his fingers through the slippery mess on his stomach.
"Tissue?" Orli asked.
"I've a better a idea," Viggo smirked. Thoroughly coating a finger in Orli's semen, he bent one of his legs up. Locking eyes, Viggo's wet finger traced down to his opening and began to gently tease. "How does this feel?" he whispered.
"Ok," Orlando replied, trying not to tense up. And it was ok. Slowly he relaxed and sighed. "Good."
Viggo removed his finger and rewet it, after pulling a small bottle of lubricant out of a drawer in the coffee table. "You're so tense. Try to relax," he whispered into Orli's ear, slowly working his fingertip in. His still-clothed groin pulsed into Orlando's hip, matching the rhythm of the finger breaching his body.
In. Oh god, it was inside him. Viggo's finger. And that huge cock (ok, maybe not huge, but certainly not at all small or even medium-sized), that big hard cock grinding against his hip, was going to go inside him.
Tonight. Now.
Viggo pushed a bit farther in, suddenly making Orli hiss. "It, um, it kind of stings," he whispered, heat flooding his face. It wasn't painful, exactly. Yet.
"You have to relax," Viggo said patiently, "Take a few deep breaths."”
He tried. Viggo's cock at his hip felt threatening. It was going to hurt so much... He took a deep breath. Maybe it would be better once it was in.
Maybe.
Viggo twisted his finger, making sure it was plenty slick, to ease any undue friction. He added another finger.
Orlando had gone completely still, trying not to panic, trying so hard to breathe and relax that his arse with Viggo's finger felt like it was a million miles away, his ears filled with the deafening sound of his heart pounding, burning with embarrassment.
Gradually, he heard Viggo's concerned voice, calling him back. "Orlando? Are you all right?"
He was tense everywhere: his body taut, fingers and toes curled, the slight sweat from his previous orgasm turned clammy and cold. He nodded.
Viggo pressed a bit further in and Orli's arse clenched even more. He accidentally whimpered.
"Christ, you're going to break my fingers if you clench any tighter. Am I hurting you?" Viggo said. "Talk to me. Does it hurt?"
Orlando felt like he wanted to die. "Um. Yeah. But just... Maybe it'll stop, right?" The hopeful note in his voice sounded pathetic even to him.
Viggo slowly eased his fingers out.
"No, um, don't stop," Orli said frantically. "I mean, I, um, I want you to. I'm sorry. It'll get better. I'll relax. I promise." Fuck, he was meant to be an actor, why couldn't he do this, pretend like everything was fine? It didn't hurt that much. Not like breaking bones or anything major.
Fuck.
Viggo reached for a tissue to wipe off his hand and leaned over to kiss Orlando as he sat up. "No, I don't think so. Not tonight. We shouldn't have tried this so soon."
"But..." Orli whispered. He looked pointedly at Viggo's cock straining against his jeans and reached out for it. "You didn't come," he said plaintively, as Viggo moved off of the couch and began to fumble around with the clothes on the floor. He'd never felt so miserable during sex before. "I'm sorry! Let me do something for you," he pleaded.
"No, it's ok. Don't worry about it," Viggo said, pulling on his shirt. He went into the bathroom and turned on the sink. Then he closed the door.
Orlando banged his head on the arm of the couch and swore steadily at himself for a few minutes.
He'd totally killed the mood. Left the poor guy with a hard-on that he wouldn't even let Orli help him with. He knew just how Viggo probably felt, brain and feelings totally uninterested in getting off, but his body demanding release. Last time something like this had happened to him, Orlando had done the same thing, gone into the loo and had a quick, joyless toss, with about as much pleasure as a sneeze. He'd felt awful inside afterwards.
And now that was what Viggo was doing. Because of him. Fuck!
And Orlando didn't even have the excuse of being a fifteen year old girl, either.
Christ, he was such a fucking failure. He couldn't do this. He quickly threw on his clothes and scrawled an "I'm sorry!" note for Viggo and ran.
He ran home like the wind, like a legion of Orcs were chasing Legolas, faster than Thought itself, making it safely inside his home and unplugging the phone even before Viggo had discovered that he had gone.
So much for communicating, Orlando thought as he miserably threw himself onto his bed.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2004-04-15 08:40 pm (UTC)And WOW - you broke part 4 into 8 sub-parts! How long did it get over all?
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Date: 2004-04-16 04:01 pm (UTC)very complex and real
To me, that's the best possible compliment. :)
And I'm sorry about the confusion about the sections... Next time I'll do 4a or something instead of 4.1.
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Date: 2004-04-16 04:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-15 10:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-16 04:23 pm (UTC)Sorry about the confusion with the parts - this was the first half and I posted the second (last) half of chapter 4 today.
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Date: 2004-04-16 05:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-16 04:33 pm (UTC)Sorry to have kept you waiting for so long - I hope it was worth it.
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Date: 2004-04-17 04:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-16 07:28 am (UTC)You're doing such a wonderful job expressing Orli's conflicting emotions. And I really loved this:
Orlando had gone completely still, trying not to panic, trying so hard to breathe and relax that his arse with Viggo's finger felt like it was a million miles away, his ears filled with the deafening sound of his heart pounding, burning with embarrassment.
I don't know if it's a defense mechanism or some other psychological term, but I've definitely been in these almost out-of-body experiences where you're focusing so hard on something that's just not working right for whatever reason. You gave such a perfect description of that feeling.
Hope you don't mind that I've friended you! :) *waits semi-patiently for next part*
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Date: 2004-04-16 04:38 pm (UTC)I've had that happen too, the out-of-body kind of experience... I'm glad someone else knows what I'm talking about. ;)
Friend away! I go through stints of adding and removing people, so please don't be offended if I do that. It just means I'm busy and can't cope with life. ;)
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Date: 2004-04-16 07:32 am (UTC)I love it! I love the humour countering Orli's inner turmoil. And then there's the hottness! wow...If I had lessons like that from Viggo I think I'd be equally...erm, speedy? in my responses! I look forward to the rest of the 8 parts to this chapter!
-Stjarna
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Date: 2004-04-16 04:42 pm (UTC)Orli's responses definitely have a lot to do with Viggo being Viggo... And yeah, I'd be the world's most eager student, myself. ;)
Sorry about the confusion with the sections - this was the first half of chapter 4 of 8 chapters total. The last half of chapter 4 was posted today.
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Date: 2004-04-16 07:38 am (UTC)I remember I've sent you a mail, after the 1st part I think (something I rarely do, just because I'm always a little afraid to send mail - especially in english) just because I loved it so much I *had* to tell you.
And I still love it, even more and more. It's one of the best fic I've ever read in my life. I'm still reading it at least once a week. Love it so much, I just don't know were to begin to say what I love ! *lol*
Sorry, I'm babbling ^.^;
I have friended you, I hope you don't mind ^.^
And the thing that make me really happy :
to be continued in part 4.2, tomorrow
Oh, God, YES ! *___________*
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Date: 2004-04-16 04:46 pm (UTC)Go ahead and Friend me if you like, but please know that I tend to add and remove people, depending on how much time I have. Please don't take it personally - I just have a hard time keeping up with LJ sometimes.
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Date: 2004-04-16 09:29 am (UTC)~M
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Date: 2004-04-16 04:48 pm (UTC)Re: Friending - I tend to be chaotic in my adding/removing friends, so please don't take it personally if I do that to you. I tend to get overwhelmed by Real Life and LJ becomes just one more thing to do. I'm very pleased to be added to your list, though!
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Date: 2007-10-27 09:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-29 08:19 pm (UTC)