TITLE: Pretty Good Year (1-21/22) AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com) WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom RATING: NC-17 SUMMARY: Home sweet home (Orli's POV) WARNINGS: Smut + Sap = Smap DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination ARCHIVE: Help yourself, just drop me a line so I can brag to my friends AUTHOR'S NOTES: This series is part four in "The Viggorli Chronicles", following "Fumbling Towards Ecstasy", "Remember To Breathe", and "Some Kind of Heaven". Once again, there will be smut, sap, and angst. "Honey, I'm home!" I drop my heavy-as-shit suitcases on the floor of the front hall and brace myself for the full-body tackle that I know is coming. Sure enough, Viggo runs at me full force and sends us both crashing to the ground. "Ow," I laugh, not really caring about the momentary pain. "Sorry," he says, grinning unrepentantly. "Did you miss me?" He answers by kissing me soundly, causing me to make a desperate noise and weave my fingers through his hair. "I missed you terribly, love," he says when the kiss finally ends. "Mmm, missed you, too." I lift my head up to kiss him again, but he stops me. "The pirate hair is gone," he says with confusion. "Yes, Viggo. The pirate hair is gone because I'm finished filming the pirate movie. Savvy?" "Huh?" "Oh, savvy is a line from the movie that Johnny's character . . . oh, never mind. Just kiss me, okay?" Viggo laughs and kindly obeys my request, kissing me again with just as much hunger as he displayed a moment earlier. It's always nice to come home to a horny boyfriend. I sling my leg over his hip and grind against him shamelessly, feeling absolutely desperate after five weeks with nothing to get me by except for phone sex. And that's just not enough. "Orli?" He pulls away slightly and grins at me. "Maybe we should move this into the bedroom instead of dry-humping in the hallway." I blush. Damnit, the man can still make me blush. "Um, yeah." He stands up and helps me to my feet. "Why don't we just leave your bags here for now?" I nod, too busy working on unbuttoning my shirt to care about my luggage. By the time we reach the bedroom, I've removed my shirt, as well as my shoes and socks -- although I nearly break my neck with all the stumbling and hopping that results from trying to race to the room and undress at the same time. "Bloody button fly," I curse, fumbling with the fastenings on my pants. "Why the fuck did I buy these trousers?" "Don't get angry at your clothing," Viggo chuckles, his fingers hooking into my belt loops to pull me close to him and then casually unbuttoning my jeans. "You're way too impatient, Orlando." He leans in to give me a brief, tantalizing kiss. "It's been five weeks, Viggo. *Five weeks*. And don't try to tell me that you're not also impatient." I reach down to press my palm against the bulge in his crotch, smiling at the small moan he lets out. He kisses me once again, his tongue doing wicked things inside of my mouth as I work on the fly of his jeans, managing to push his pants and boxers down to his knees. We break apart just long enough to pull off our clothes, then come together and tumble somewhat gracelessly onto the bed, scrambling to pull back the sheets. I'm still confused as to why Viggo insists on making the bed when he knows that we're going to fuck like bunnies on it, but I guess it doesn't matter that much. "Need you," he groans. "Ditto," I say, unable to think of anything more intelligent. Viggo laughs hard, reaching over to the nightstand drawer for our cache of lub e. "Ditto?" I stick my tongue out at him. Honestly, *you* try being articulate at a moment like this. I'm practically bouncing with anticipation as he covers his fingers and cock with the gel and leans down for another torrid kiss. Screw the foreplay, let's just get to the main event. My hand slides down his back and grips his arse tightly while I spread my legs, and thankfully he understands my plea for more; five weeks without sex is unacceptable, and I can't wait any longer. I arch my back when two lubed fingers slide into me, biting my lip to stifle my whimper. Mindful of how long it's been since he's last been inside of me, Viggo is gentle but insistent as he stretches me, scissoring his fingers apart and making me mewl in pleasure when he brushes over my sweet spot. "Now," I beg. "Please, it's been too long." He nods and pulls his fingers out of me. I hook my legs around his waist, biting back another whimper at the feeling of his dripping cock pressed against my entrance. With one strong push, he buries himself completely in my body and we both cry out. For a moment, we simply stay still and allow ourselves to readjust to the sensation, but then we need more, and he starts to slowly pump in and out of me. "Orli," he gasps, his eyes almost wild with passion. "God, love . . . you feel amazing." He dips his head and captures my mouth for a kiss, and I tangle my fingers in his hair, plunging my tongue into his mouth. Our pace gradually increases until he's slamming into me with reckless abandon, my fingers clutching desperately at his shoulders. The feeling of being claimed by him again is so utterly complete and perfect, and there's nothing I can do except simply surrender to it. Viggo is angling his thrusts just right so that he's striking my prostate with almost every plunge, and I'm pushing my hips up in an effort to draw him even deeper into me. His mouth presses little kisses everywhere on my face and neck as he continues to make love to me, whispering endearments in my ear before tracing my jawline with his tongue. I shiver and pull his mouth back to mine for a kiss that starts out lazy but quickly turns feverish as it matches the rhythm of his thrusts. We break the kiss when we finally need air in our lungs, and he throws his head back, moaning loudly as I purposefully clench my muscles around him. I start stroking my cock, feeling myself drawing closer to orgasm. "Let go, Vig," I say, wanting to see him come undone; he always looks so beautiful when he does. His lips are slightly parted, his skin glistening with sweat, and his blue eyes are filled with love and lust. "Come for me," I urge. He groans and thrusts again, then cries out as he reaches his climax. His hand joins mine on my cock, and that combined with the sensation of his heat spilling into me is enough to push me over the edge. Yelling his name, I come all over our hands and then find my mouth covered by his for one more kiss. Our tongues eagerly slide along each other even as our sated bodies fall limply against the mattress. "Hi," I sigh when we finally end the kiss. Viggo chuckles. "Welcome home, baby." I smile and wrap myself around him, only to find that we're quite sticky. "Eww," I mutter. "Wet-naps?" I request. "I have a better idea," he says. "Let's take a shower." "Ah, that's definitely a better idea," I agree. I bound out of bed and into our bathroom, excited at the prospect of getting clean after a red-eye flight from the Caribbean and a round of bed-rocking sex with my boyfriend. Plus, a shower means I get to spend quality time naked with Viggo, and that's always a good thing. Once I've adjusted the water temperature so that it's properly scalding, I step into the shower and hold out my hand to pull Viggo in with me. "Why thank you," he says with a grin. "You're very welcome." Viggo soaps up a washcloth and starts to clean up our bodies, making me smile in appreciation and return the favor. Lathering up my hands, I massage his chest and pinch a nipple just hard enough to provoke a little yelp. I laugh and dive in for a kiss, sliding our sudsy bodies against one another and feeling myself start to get hard again at the feeling of his arms wrapping around me, pulling me in even closer. "Want you," I tell him. One of my hands slips between his legs and strokes his balls, causing him to groan and grow hard against my thigh. Deciding to take charge of the situation, I reach up and blindly search around in the shower rack for the silicone lube we keep here for just this kind of situation, then break the kiss and spin Viggo around. He gasps and braces his hands on the wall of the shower, looking back over his shoulder at me with an expression that says 'get on with it'. Spreading the slippery gel on my fingers, I slip one into Viggo and relish his soft moan. I add another finger, beginning to slide them in and out before crooking them at just the right angle, making him cry out hoarsely as I stroke his prostate. He pushes his hips back, screwing himself roughly on my fingers. "Please, Orli," he rasps, looking back at me again. "Please what?" I tease, removing my fingers and quickly slicking up my erection. "Oh, fuck," he gasps as I slide my cock along the cleft of his arse. "Close enough." I slowly push myself into Viggo's tight, welcoming heat, shuddering at the familiar sensations of being inside of my lover. He groans and immediately pushes back, trying to draw me all the way in, but I'm determined to do this at my pace. I kiss his upper back in an attempt to calm him down, knowing how badly he's trying to get me to let go and start pounding; that's not what I want, though. As the water falls over our bodies, I set a languorous pace that Viggo quickly adapts to. He turns his head just enough so he can kiss me, his tongue sliding into my mouth and making circles around mine. My thrusts are slow and deep, drawing low moans from him as I pass over his prostate; I nip his bottom lip and am rewarded with that wonderful little growl he always lets slip when I do that. His body feels so incredibly good around me, and the sounds he makes as I kiss and make love to him are driving me mad. While his hands are securely braced on the wall, one of my hands is gripping his hip to aid my thrusting and the other has reached around to begin toying with his cock. He gasps and pushes his cock forward into the tunnel of my hand, then rocks back onto my erection. I trace the shell of his ear with my tongue, then gently suck at the lobe while continuing my lazy rhythm. "You're so beautiful like this," I breathe, adding another thrust to punctuate my words. I can feel him shiver beneath me, and I intensify the stroking on his erection. "I love you so much, Viggo. *So* much." His only response is a sigh and another kiss, pushing his hips back hard in an attempt to impale himself on my cock. We rock together slowly, continuing to kiss as we both float towards our climaxes. The urgency of a few minutes ago has melted away, replaced by the simple joy of being together again. My body begins to tighten up, and I know that I'm getting very close to coming as my movements become more erratic; I deepen the kiss and speed up my hand on Viggo's cock. He whimpers into the kiss and then does this wonderful rotation of his hips that makes me feel so tightly gripped inside of his body that I'm unable to keep myself from coming. Tearing my mouth from his, I let out a cry and spill into him. Viggo moans my name again and again as I come inside of him, and he experiences his own orgasm a moment later. "Orlando!" he cries again, his head falling back against my shoulder. I hold him up when his legs shake a little, and then we slowly straighten up and separate. "And now we need to get clean all over again," Viggo laughs. "Yeah, plus it's the evil silicone lube that gets all slippery and stays in your butt crack," I tease. "Well, then I guess you'll just have to help me get it out," he tells me, tossing me the bar of soap. "I suppose I could do that." I grin and wiggle my eyebrows, then diligently work at getting the stubborn lube out of my boyfriend's arse. After a few minutes of working at it, he starts squirming in a very familiar manner, and I chuckle and turn him around. "You're very randy this morning, aren't you?" "You inspire it," he says. "Need a hand?" I laugh. "Or a mouth, for that matter?" Viggo pulls me in for a kiss and pushes his renewed erection against my stomach. Damn, the man's stamina knows no limits. It's just not natural. With a huge smile on my face, I fall to my knees and take his hard cock into my mouth, lapping the precome up from the slit. His hands skim gently over my hair but don't attempt to guide my movements; instead, he allows me to alternate everything from broad swipes of tongue along the underside, to swirling my tongue along the head, to deep-throating him. My hands curl around his hips to allow myself to set the pace I want, and I absolutely love the feeling of having him in my mouth. His cock is a brilliant, familiar weight on top of my tongue, and the unique musk I love so much is strongest here with my nose buried in his pubic hair. Precome trickles steadily down my throat, and Viggo moans loudly when I lightly graze my teeth along the length of his cock. I can tell that he's close. After taking him all the way in once more, I swallow hard around his cock and then use my tongue to gently stroke the sensitive vein on the underside. He bucks his hips and shudders, coming hard in my mouth as I continue to stroke him with my tongue. I hungrily swallow all that he gives me, licking his softening cock clean before standing up again and giving him a chaste kiss. "The water's getting cold," I say, shivering a little. "Yeah, I think the shower has run its course," Viggo chuckles. He turns off the water and then steps out to grabs us some towels. Being the considerate man that he is, he wraps me in a towel before drying himself off, then kisses me again. "It's so wonderful to have you back home again, Orli." I throw my arms around him. "I missed you so much, Vig. It was fun down there and everything, but I felt really alone most of the time." "Well, you're not alone now," he murmurs, running his fingers through my tangled wet hair. "No," I agree with a smile, pulling back a little bit to look into his eyes. "I'm definitely not alone now." TITLE: Pretty Good Year (2/22) AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com) WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom RATING: NC-17 SUMMARY: A lazy afternoon at home (Viggo's POV) FEEDBACK: It's the sauce on my steak, it's the cheese in my cake WARNINGS: None DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination ARCHIVE: Help yourself, just drop me a line so I can brag to my friends AUTHOR'S NOTES: The descriptions of Maude in this story are very strongly based on my beloved dog Maggie. This chapter is dedicated to Liz, the sweetest girl and the worst patient ever -- I know your ankle will get better soon "You really should join me in here, Vig," Orli calls from the pool. "It's terrific!" "No thanks," I laugh, continuing to read 'The New Yorker'. He shrugs. "Fine. Your loss." I look up with a smile as he starts swimming another graceful backstroke lap. The magazine falls forgotten to the side of the chaise lounge while I watch him circle the pool with effortless movements. Yes, I'm blatantly checking out my boyfriend -- and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. After several more minutes of giving himself a workout, Orli decides to call it quits and makes his way over to the edge of the pool, hoisting himself out of the water. "Can you toss me the towel?" he asks, shaking out his curls in a very Maude-like fashion. "Come over here; I'm not going to throw it." Orli sighs exaggeratedly despite the wide grin on his face. "You're so demanding, Viggo. Everything always has to be on *your* terms." "I know, I'm a terrible boyfriend," I chuckle as he takes the towel from my hand and dries himself off. "Come on, I'll make you some fresh lemonade." His eyes light up. "Oh, you're the best!" I laugh as he plants a big kiss on my cheek. "You deserve it, Orli." It's blessedly cool inside the house in contrast to the unseasonably warm early February day, and the only sound in the kitchen is the low hum of the refrigerator. I grab the necessary ingredients, and soon we're both sitting at the kitchen table with two glasses of freshly squeezed lemonade. Orli is still sitting in his ridiculously loud Hawaiian-print bathing suit with the towel draped around his body, little droplets of water clinging to his hair and tanned skin. He looks absolutely beautiful as usual. "I love lazy afternoons like this," he sighs. "Yeah. And it's nice when it's just the two of us," I add. "As much as I love Henry, I'm not exactly complaining that he wanted to spend the weekend at his friend's house in Apple Valley." "Hey, it's not just the two of us -- Maude is here," Orli reminds me with a touch of indignance in his voice. "Oh, of course. It's nice when it's just the two of us and Maude," I amend, looking over at the white furry ball that's lying motionless at my boyfriend's feet. He smiles and drains the rest of his lemonade, then reaches down to scratch his 'girl' behind her ears. She stretches out on the floor in a shameless play for more affection, which is a move that she must have gotten from Orli. "You love it here, don't you, sweetheart?" he coos. "You love your new daddy." "I'm her new daddy?" I ask. "Hell yes! We're in this together! Besides, you're the one who fed her and took care of her while I was off swashbuckling my way through a pirate movie," he points out. "Yeah, and you didn't quite warn me about her propensity to steal every crumb of food that she could get her grubby little paws on." "How many times can I apologize for the theft of dinner the other night?" "It took me forever to marinade that steak, Orli," I say, fully aware that I'm bordering on whining. "And then she just came along and swiped it." "She's a dog as well as a devious little bint; if she sees food, she automatically takes it. Besides, I ended up making it up to you by offering you some much tastier meat," he teases, sliding over to sit on my lap with an unabashed leer. I laugh loudly, wrapping my arms around him and ignoring the wetness of his bathing suit and towel that's seeping through to my clothes. "It was *very* tasty meat," I say in a low voice. "Yes, choice British sausage," he teases. "Okay, that's just not right!" I exclaim as I start cracking up. Orli also laughs as he stands up. "I'm going to put my towel in the dryer." "Do me a favor?" "Yeah?" "Change out of your bathing suit while you're at it. The print is making me go blind." "You're such a tosser," he shoots back, sticking his tongue out before walking out of the kitchen and down the hall. I look down at Maude with a frown. "Do you think I'm a tosser?" She gives me a look full of canine confusion. "You have no clue what I'm talking about. But you're cute, so I'll pet your head now." I run my hand over her white curly head, earning me a furiously wagging tail and a few enthusiastic yips. "I guess you don't think I'm a tosser after all." "Viggo?" Orli's voice carries from the opposite end of the house. "Do you know where my lucky blue jeans are?" "Your daddy," I whisper to Maude, "is hopeless." With a sigh, I stand up and walk to the bedroom, where I'm greeted with the tantalizing sight of Orli standing in the middle of the room, hands on his hips with a look of confused frustration on his beautiful face and nothing but loose black boxers that hang low on his slender hips. "Having problems, love?" "I can't find my bloody jeans! Do you have any clue where they could be?" Orli has these beloved pair of blue jeans that he truly believes are lucky; he got them when he was eighteen and they're one of his most treasured possessions. Unfortunately, since they've been worn so many times, there are holes in some very interesting places and the jeans are no longer fit to be worn anywhere other than the house. "They're in the bottom drawer of our dresser," I say, going to retrieve the jeans and reassure my boyfriend. "They're safe and sound." "Oh, thank God," he breathes. "I was really scared there for a moment." "Were you planning on wearing them right now?" "I was thinking about it," Orli says with a coy smile. "Why, do you have something else in mind?" "As a matter of fact, yes." With two quick strides, I walk over to him, dropping the lucky blue jeans along the way. "You gave yourself quite a workout in the pool today. I think that you deserve something for your diligence." "Is that so? And what would that be?" His voice is huskier suddenly, making my cock stir. "I believe that a massage is in order." Orli grins widely, then takes off his boxers and dives face down onto the bed. "Go to work on me, Vig. Put those magic hands to good use." I laugh as I drag out our 'fun box' from under the bed. "What kind of massage oil do you want? We have plain, vanilla-scented, and passion fruit-scented." "Definitely passion fruit-scented; I want the most passionate and most fruity massage possible," he tells me, looking over his shoulder to give me a wink. "Somehow, I doubt that will be a problem," I snort, selecting the passion fruit oil that Orli bought while in the Caribbean, then tossing it onto the bed. My own clothes are then quickly disposed of (really, what need do I have for them?), and I join my boyfriend on the mattress, straddling the backs of his legs. Pouring some of the oil onto my hands, I rub my palms together before leaning forward to press my hands into his lower back. Orli moans as I begin to slowly massage his back with circular movements that apply just enough pressure to release whatever tension might be there but not enough to cause new discomfort. I genly work my way up his spine until I reach his neck, then move out to his shoulder blades, increasing the pressure because I know that he tends to get more knots in his muscles in that area. Predictably, he's knotted up right around his shoulders, and I work hard to relax the muscles. "Feels really good," he sighs softly as my thumbs make small, tight circles on his shoulders. I smile and dip my head to kiss his neck, smelling the passion fruit oil that's on his skin. He shivers and burrows into the pillow, making me smile as he starts to truly react to my touches; the way that he's beginning to shift around on the mattress is enough for me to know that he's now sporting an erection. I slide off of his body, ignoring his small whine. "Turn over, love," I chuckle. "You'll be more comfortable that way." He does what I ask, and he looks ridiculously alluring -- his curls are mussed and still damp, his skin is tan, his cheeks are flushed, and there's a sly smile on his face. And yes, he is indeed completely hard, his cock pressed firmly against his stomach and leaking precome. Damn, and now *I'm* completely hard as I look at him like this (although I doubt that anyone would blame me). "You're staring," he admonishes with a grin. "I can't help it," I admit as I go back to the massage, pouring more oil onto my hands and beginning to rub his chest, making sure to get all of the ticklish spots that make him jump and giggle. "Viggo, you loon, this is supposed to be a massage, not a tickle attack!" he shrieks. I laugh and lean down, latching my mouth onto a nipple and sucking at it. That gets the desired reaction, as Orli moans and clutches at my head. "Does that make up for it?" I ask when I pull my head away. "Y-yes," he stammers. He pulls me up for a searing kiss. "Please, Viggo, Please, please, *please* fuck me." My eyebrows raise at his forwardness, but I don't exactly complain. "Turn over again," I instruct. Orli gives me another kiss before getting on his hands and knees while I lean over him to rummage around for the lube. "Hurry, hurry, hurry," he chants. "You're way too impatient," I grumble as I spread lube on my fingers. "It's not my fault," he tells me. "You're way too good with those massages -- ah!" He cries out and pushes his hips back when I easily slide two fingers into his body. "God, Viggo!" "Like that?" I ask, leaning over him to drag my tongue along his ear. "I need more," he whimpers. "I know, love." I give him a kiss on the neck, then pull away for just long enough to spread the lube over my aching erection. "I know that you need more, I know that you need this." Orli whimpers again as I press my cock up against his entrance. "Please, don't tease me, Vig." And really, I can't tease him; I need this just as badly as he does. I start to push myself slowly into him with as much control as I can muster, but he slams his body backwards impaling himself on me and crying out my name. "Yes!" he screams, sounding like something out of a porn flick. I'd laugh if it weren't so goddamned sexy. Digging my fingers into his hips, I set a ruthless pace that he seems happy with, each thrust seeming more intense than the last. We're both making a lot of noise, from my low moans to his ecstatic cries. Remnants of massage oil makes Orli's skin glisten, and the scent of passion fruit hangs around the bed. It's frenzied post-massage lovemaking at its best. "You're so gorgeous," I murmur as I angle my hips to strike his prostate, coaxing the perfect moan out of him. "You have no idea how beautiful you are, love." "Viggo . . ." My name is no more that a whisper from his mouth as he arches his back downwards and presses back against my body in supplication. "You're always so greedy," I tease, even as I quicken my pace further. "Can't . . . help it," Orli gasps. His fingers twist in the sheets while his head lolls back against his shoulder. "Neither can I." I lower my mouth to his for a kiss and mimic the thrusting of my cock with the thrusting of my tongue. There's a muffled sound of content from the back of his throat, and he nearly rockets out from under me when I manage to reach over to grasp the heavy weight of his cock and begin stroking it. Precome is dribbling steadily from the head, and I know that he's not going to hold on much longer. Sure enough, it only takes a few more thrusts and nifty hand moves for him to come, breaking the kiss and screaming my name. The sensation of his muscles clamping down on me drives me over the edge, and it's only a few more moments before I experience my own orgasm. I bury my head in the crook of his neck to muffle my moans as I spill into him, sucking gently at his warm skin. "Yeah, wow," he mumbles into the pillow about two minutes later, I laugh and pull out of him, rolling onto my back. "That good, huh?" He turns over to give me a brilliant grin. "Un-fucking-believable." "I'm flattered." "Well, you should be. You are, after all, a Sex God. I'm your Love Pig, and you're my Sex God." Orli sits up, stretching his limbs and yawning; then he falls sideways on top of me, pressing a kiss to my neck. "Love you." "Love you, too." I run my fingers through his tangled curls, damp from the pool and the exertions of our lovemaking. "So what do you want to do for the rest of the afternoon?" "Mmm, I don't know?" Another kiss is placed on my neck, then one lands on my chin. "What time is it?" I glance over at the clock on the nightstand. "Almost four." "We could just lie here and do nothing for a while," he suggests. "We're sweaty, you're chlorinated, and the whole room smells like passion fruit," I remind him. "Do you really care?" he snorts. "Not really," I admit. "So we're doing absolutely nothing for the rest of the day?" "Exactly." He grins and kisses me on the tip of the nose, reaching over to grab the requisite wet-naps. "How does that sound to you?" I return his smile. "That sounds great." TITLE: Pretty Good Year (3/22) AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@a...) WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/ randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom RATING: PG-13 SUMMARY: Why am I a teen idol? (Orli's POV) WARNINGS: None DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination ARCHIVE: Help yourself, just drop me a line so I can brag to my friends "Orlando, this would be *wonderful* publicity," Robin insists. "I really don't think it's what I want to do," I say as I wander around my publicist's spacious office. "A commercial for the GAP was one thing, but this is something else entirely. I mean, they want me to be in my *underwear* for God's sake! My mum would never approve!" "I hate to say this, but you're not going to get very far if you only do things that your mother will approve of." "Listen, there's nothing wrong with taking your clothes off for a movie, but there's no reason to do it for some random photo shoot. I'm not a model, Robin; I'm an actor. Do people even care about that anymore?" "Of course, but it's going to be another five months until 'Pirates' hits theaters, and you want audiences to know you as more than just Legolas," she says. "I don't want them to know me as the hunk of the week! How is that going to help my career, Robin?" She sighs and leans back in her chair. "I'm trying to get you out there, Orlando; that's my job. I can't *do* my job if you won't play along." "But can't you do your job without presenting me as this kind of pin-up boy? That's not what I'm in this for." I sit down across from her and lean forward, giving her my best pleading look. "You're really good at what you do, but I need you to listen to what I want right now. Could you just try to put me out there as someone who studied drama and loves the *art* of acting instead of just another 'handsome hunk'?" "I'll try," she says. "Thank you." "So does this mean that you're turning the photo shoot down?" "That's what it means." "Well, I suppose I can't force you," Robin sighs, looking disappointed. "Hey, I did do that teen magazine shoot last month. What was it, GM?" "'YM'," she corrects me with a small smile. "Look Robin, if you really want me to do some really good photos, Viggo has taken a bunch. We could send 'em out to the magazines and just make up some phony credits," I tease. "Get out of here," she laughs. "Go home to your boyfriend and tell him I say hi." "Will do. Bye." ***** "How did it go?" Viggo asks as I walk into the kitchen and immediately slip my arms around him. "Not great," I admit. He unclasps my arms and turns around, frowning as he cups my cheek. "What's wrong, love?" "Robin wants me to do this photo shoot where I basically strip down to my underwear. She thinks it'll be good for my career." "I hope you told her that I'm the only one who's allowed to see you in your underwear." I raise my eyebrows. "This from the man who takes his clothes off onscreen at the drop of a hat?" "Hey, that was before I met you," he says defensively. "Now I only get naked around my Love Pig." "Good." "What about this photo shoot, though? Are you stripping down?" He doesn't look upset at the prospect, just curious. "Hell no!" "Why not?" "Look Vig, Robin is a great woman and a terrific publicist, but recently I feel like she's only getting me out there as this 'hot young thing'." "But that's what you are," he teases. "I'm trying to be serious," I tell him with a sigh. "I really want people to know that I'm more than the boy with the cheekbones." His eyes grow serious and he takes my face in both of his hands. "Orli, you're *much* more than that. You are an incredible actor with infinite talent who just happens to be absolutely beautiful. But you have to understand how this business works. Like it or not, it's Robin's job to sell you to the public and to the press, and she has to pander to the fact that most audiences are probably more interested in what type of underwear you prefer than what classes you took at Guildhall." "Boxers." "Hmm?" "I prefer boxers for my underwear," I clarify. Viggo laughs, kissing my forehead before stepping away to work on dinner. "I know that, Orli. We've been together for three years, and I'd like to think that I'm a perceptive man." "You're a very perceptive man. That's one of the many reasons why I love you." "Thank you. Now, could you do me a favor and retrieve my son to set the table?" "Sure. HENRY!" I bellow. "Well, that's one way to get him," Viggo says dryly. "Jeez, that's rude," Henry teases when he comes into the kitchen a moment later. "Haven't you ever heard of something called *courtesy*, Bloom?" "Obviously not," I retort. "I was asked to retrieve you to set the table, and your father did not specify *how* I was supposed to retrieve you. So I shouted. Deal with it." The teenager shoots me a smirk and grabs some napkin, going to start setting the table. "You'll get yours, Orli. You'll get yours." Viggo is pretending to ignore us as he puts the finishing touches on his homemade tacos and guacamole, but I can see that he's smiling. "Okay, *children*. Dinner's ready." "This look's great, Vig," I say enthusiastically. "Yeah, it really does, Dad," Henry chimes in. "Thanks so much for making my favorite." "I thought buffalo wings were your favorite," Viggo teases. "Everything's my favorite," he shrugs. "I'm a growing boy." That he is. The kid is now almost as tall as Viggo and I are! How did that happen?! I suddenly feel very old. Like usual, our dinner conversation is a mixture of the usual family chit-chat and the bizarre Mortensen-Bloom randomness. Henry has started dating his longtime crush, Jemila, and is positively buzzing about the fact that they're going to a little party together this weekend. Viggo teases his son mercilessly about the fact that 'his baby is growing up', causing Henry to launch a handful of guacamole at his dad. The edible missile lands on the floor and is cleaned up by Maude; no harm, no foul. "That dog is, like, a human vacuum," Henry says. "She's not a human, mate," I laugh. "Okay, she's a canine vacuum," he revses. "She seems to be a fan of your guacamole," I tell Viggo with a grin. "Orli, she's a fan of anything edible," he says. Henry laughs and takes a bite of his taco. "So," he says through half a mouthful of ground beef and tortilla, "how was your afternoon, Orli?" "It was okay. Nothing special." "Your meeting didn't go that well?" Wow, the kid is perceptive. That's another thing he gets from his dad. "It wasn't horrible," I tell him with a tiny smile. "I'm just having a bit of difficulty with something." "Is your publicist giving you shit?" he asks. "Do you need me to beat him up for you?" "My publicist is a woman, not a man. And please, don't beat anyone up," I laugh. "Seriously, is there a real problem?" "No, not a real problem," I assure him. "It's just sort of a problem with the image that's being projected on my behalf versus the one that I *want* to be out there." "Ah, you mean the fact that half the girls at my school practically faint when someone mentions your name?" he says with a grin. I raise my eyebrows. "Please tell me you're kidding." "Not really. Jennie Stefanko, who's in my history class, has your cover picture from 'YM' plastered on her binder. It freaks me out because she sits right in front of me, and I'm like, 'for fuck's sake, that's my dad's boyfriend -- I can't concentrate on the Russian Revolution when he's staring at me like that!'" He pauses. "Um, not like I said that to her or anything." "Henry, watch your language," Viggo says sternly. "Oh, come on, like you never say the 'f' word," Henry laughs with a roll of his eyes. "Anyway Orli, you're *huge* at my school." "You never told me this!" I exclaim. "Well, you never asked," he shrugs. "I didn't want to just inflate your ego like that." "God, this is so weird," I moan, burying my head in my hands. "*You* think it's weird?" he scoffs. "Imagine how it is for me! Here I am, knowing that you're very happy being Dad's boyfriend, yet day after day I go to school only to be practically *assaulted* by some girl who knows that my dad played Aragorn and could I please get an autograph from the beautiful Orlando Bloom the next time my dad happened to see him, because she desperately wants to have nineteen of his children. It's not exactly as if I can explain that you're a one-man man." "No, I guess you can't." "All I can say is thank God that you're not Jemila's type. Otherwise, I might have to kill you." "Henry!" Viggo exclaims. "I'm just kidding," he laughs. "Viggo, don't worry," I chuckle. "I really needed the laugh." I kick Henry under the table. "Thanks, kid." "Don't worry about it, stud." ***** "How's that book coming along?" I ask Viggo as he finally places the Love Pig bookmark in his book and puts it on the nightstand. "It's a terrific book; I'm so glad that you got it for me. And there's only about twenty pages left until I'm finished with it." "Good." I smile, kicking off my fuzzy yellow slippers that he loves to tease me about and joining him under the covers. "Ready for sleep?" "Not just yet." He stops my hand as it reaches over him to turn off the lamp. "What's the matter?" "Listen, I know you were upset when you got home earlier, and I want to make sure you're okay." I sigh. "It's just that I worked really hard at drama school and then for all those months in New Zealand, but I feel like it's all being glossed over so that some magazine can get a shot of me with my shirt off." Viggo pulls me into an embrace and kisses my forehead. "Orli, this is a bizarre town. People are going to see you how they want to see you, and unfortunately there's only so much you can do about that. You just have to learn to do your own thing and achieve your goals despite whatever image the public has carved out for you." "But how come you never seem to have that problem?" I pout. "You always get to be the eccentric artist and no one ever tries to make *you* something that you're not." "Yes, but nobody gave a shit about me for a very long time," he points out. "I was taking roles just so I could put food on the table for what seemed like forever, and I wasn't rating cover articles on 'Premiere' magazine or anything like that. It wasn't until 'G.I. Jane' that a few people noticed me, then a few more with each movie until 'Rings' hit. And at that point I had published my poetry and photography, and everyone was happy to portray me as the crazy artist, so that's how it went." "Yeah, I guess. And I don't mean to sound ungrateful, Vig." "You're not ungrateful at all," Viggo chuckles. "You're grateful for the opportunities you've been given in acting, but you don't have to be grateful at all for being packaged as a pin-up boy. Look, don't worry about this love. Just because girls are hanging your pictures on their walls doesn't change who *you* are. And don't, under any circumstances, let this undermine your confidence in yourself. You are so much more than a pretty face; you are an actor whose abilities are limitless, and one day the whole world will see you as more than the elf, more than the pin-up, and more than the pirate. They will simply see you for who you are -- a beautiful brilliant man." I smile and bury my head in his neck, kissing his warm skin. "Thank you, Viggo. I love you so much." "I love you, too." He strokes my hair. "Come on, Orli; let's get some sleep." "Okay." Viggo turns off the lamp and we settle into a spoon position so he's behind me with his arm securely around my waist. "So can I ask you a question?" he murmurs, his lips brushing against my earlobe. "Mmm, of course." "This decision of yours not to appear in any photographs in your underwear . . . . does this apply to *my* photographs?" I laugh and kick his foot. "Of course not, you nutcase. You should feel free to take pictures of me whenever inspiration strikes, whether I'm in my underwear or completely starkers." "I like the sound of that," he purrs. "I'm going to make you my own personal pin-up boy, Orlando Bloom." I look over my shoulder and give him a grin in the darkness. "I can't wait." TITLE: Pretty Good Year (4/22) AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com) WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom RATING: NC-17 SUMMARY: Cause and effect (Viggo's POV) FEEDBACK: It's the sauce on my steak, it's the cheese in my cake WARNINGS: Intentionally bad fanfic DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination ARCHIVE: Help yourself, just drop me a line so I can brag to my friends AUTHOR'S NOTES: This chapter is somewhat of a follow-up to chapter 16 of "Some Kind of Heaven" where Viggo and Orli discover RPS. Lines in //...// denote that they're the fictional fanfic "I'm done!" Orli exults as he bounds into the bedroom clutching a red spiral notebook. "I'm finally done! I wrote my slash story!" "You're kidding." I stop folding laundry and sit down on the bed with a grin. "And it only took you four months to finish it." "Hey, *you* try writing this shit -- it's fucking hard, man!" "I'll take your word for it." "It is! I went through seven drafts with different scenarios and positions for us before I got to this final copy. Anyway, I'm having Lij post it online to those groups he belongs to, but I want you to look it over first," he tells me, flopping down on the bed and tossing the notebook into my lap. "Why?" "Because it's your duty as my boyfriend. You have to love me, cherish me, and read my fanfic." "Is that so?" I ask with amusement. "Yes. Now read. I worked for four bloody months on this story, and I want your sage advice before I hand it over to Lij." "Sage advice, got it." I lean back against the pillows and raise my arm so he can lean his head on my chest, then open the notebook, flipping through page after page of scribbled dialogue and porn that Orli was apparently dissatisfied with. "Is this the final draft?" I ask when I reach a section that's written in meticulously neat handwriting. "Yes. I rewrote it this morning." "'One Night in New Zealand'? Is that the title?" "Yeah." Orli looks up at me. "What do you think?" I chuckle. "Love, this is *your* story. Don't change anything based on what I think. But for the record, I think it's a perfectly fine title." "Okay, good." "Now, what's the premise of this story?" He shakes his head and smiles. "I'm not going to tell you that. You'll just have to read it if you want to know." "Fine, be difficult," I grumble playfully. I reach down to find his hand and squeeze it as I begin to read his story. //Orli rapped sharply on the door of the hotel room, shifting his bag to the other shoulder. A wide grin spread across his face when the door finally opened. "Vig, my savior!"// //"It's nice to see you, too," Viggo chuckled. "Why are you still carrying your bag around?"// //"I need to stay with you tonight." Orli pushed past his friend and walked into the room, dropping his bag on the floor without waiting for an answer.// //"Um, excuse me?"// //"Look, there's a huge leak in the bathroom of my room. I called hotel maintenance, and they said that I should stay in another room tonight. The problem is that they don't *have* any empty rooms, but since they know that I'm with the cast, they told me to just stay with a friend. You were next door, so I came here." Orli finally took a deep breath as he finished his explanation and sat down on the bed. "You don't mind, do you?"// "Oh yeah, like I'd ever *mind* you staying with me," I snort. "Don't interrupt," Orli rebukes me. "Just read." //"Well, I don't really mind, but there's only one bed."// "I know it's not an original setup," Orli sighs. "But it was the best I could think of." "It works fine," I tell him. "It's not the setup that matters anyway; it's how you use it." //Orli pretended to look vaguely scandalized, but was secretly ecstatic. Ever since Viggo had showed up on-set, Orli had lusted after the man with the come-hither eyes and the inhumanly sensual voice. He was sex on legs, and this could be Orli's shot at getting with him.// "Sex on legs?" I laugh. "Fuck yeah! Have you ever looked in a mirror, Vig?" "I'm assuming that this is a PWP, by the way. None of that complicated relationship stuff to deal with." Orli blushes. "The smut is really fun to write," he admits. "Mmm, and even more fun to act out," I say as I pull him up for a kiss. "Stop trying to distract me," he protests weakly, but allows me to kiss him anyway. "Keep reading." //A few hours later, Orli lay ramrod-straight in bed next to Viggo, contemplating how best to put his plan into action. All he knew was hat he wanted -- no, he *needed* -- to have sex with Viggo. Very slowly, he rolled onto his side; Viggo was sleeping on his side, and as Orli slid backwards towards him, they came into a spoon position until, at last, Orli's arse was pressed against Viggo's crotch.// "I always knew you were shameless." "Hey, this isn't me," he says defensively. "This is a fictional incarnation of myself." "Uh-huh. Whatever you say." //Viggo didn't seem to wake up, and Orli took a deep breath before he started rotating his hips in small circles, the friction causing Viggo's cock to stir. Orli knew he had to be insane to be doing this -- after all, Viggo was not only a friend, he was also a co-star, and he might not appreciate being dry-humped in the middle of the night like this.// I snort "Yeah, right. Orli, have you learned nothing in our years together?" //But Orli was past rational thought at this point. He wanted Viggo too badly to care about anything else.// //Suddenly, a heavy arm slung over Orli's waist, holding hip in place and making him utter a startled yelp. "Am I dreaming?" Viggo's voice was a low rasp, his breath hot in Orli's ear.// //"No," Orli gasped.// //"Orli," Viggo said in recognition as he remembered that his friend was in his bed. However, he was still unsure why said friend was grinding against him. "What are you doing?"// //Realizing that playing games would be pointless, Orli decided to be blunt. "I want you, Viggo. I've wanted you for so long."// //To Orli's shock, Viggo didn't push him away. Instead, he pulled Orli closer until his cock was pushed firmly against the cleft of Orli's arse, separated only by the material of their boxers. "Is that so? What exactly have you wanted from me?"// //"I want you to fuck me," he said, his cheeks flushing red as he finally said the words. "Please, Viggo . . . please, fuck me."// I pull Orli closer to me and begin to run my fingers through his soft curls. Yeah, the smut gets me every time. Especially when my beautiful boyfriend is the one actually *writing* it. //"Don't worry, Orlando; I'll fuck you," Viggo told him before sitting up, turning on the lamp, and reaching over for his suitcase to retrieve lube. Orli didn't care why Viggo had lube, he was just relieved that there was some around. "I'll fuck you," Viggo said again, "until you can't remember what it ever felt like to have someone else inside of you."// //Orli watched mesmerized as Viggo quickly removed his clothes, and he dazedly stripped off his own tee-shirt and boxers. Viggo was absolutely gorgeous. Sure, he had seen him in various stages of undress in the trailer over the months they had been working together, and God only knows how many times he had worn out his VCR watching 'Indian Runner', but this was different. This was Viggo in the flesh, completely naked, and very, very hard.// //As soon as he saw the long, thick cock that rose proudly from between Viggo's firm thighs, Orli realized that fucking would just have to wait for a few minutes. There was something else he had to do first. Surprising both of them with his boldness, Orli pushed Viggo back against the pillows. Orli kissed his way down Viggo's toned body until he reached the beautiful cock that was just begging to be sucked.// "Really? My cock begs to be sucked?" "Shut up, old man." //Wrapping his lips around the hard flesh, Orli began to take as much of Viggo's cock into his mouth as he could, running his tongue along the underside as he tried to taste the other man. Viggo moaned and bucked his hips, thrusting his cock into Orli's throat; Orli wasn't fazed as he sucked harder, trying to coax more of those deliciously throaty moans out of his new lover. God, if only Viggo knew how sexy he sounded when he moaned.// "Orli, this story is the biggest ego-boost I've ever gotten," I tell him with a smile. "Yeah, and every word of it is true," he insists. "Well, not the story itself, but what I say about how sexy you are is true. //Viggo's hands skimmed over the mohawk that he had complimented Orli on so many times.// "That's how you know it's fiction," I chuckle. "I had to defend the mohawk," he says indignantly. //The restless hands finally settled for twisting in the sheets as Orli bobbed up and down on his cock, determined to make Viggo come from a relentless rhythm of sucking and licking. When Orli's tongue swirled around the head at the same time that his fingers skimmed over Viggo's balls, it was all Viggo could take. He finally let himself go and came with a cry; Orli eagerly swallowed every drop of Viggo's come and continued to suck until the shaft started to soften.// "That was a hell of a fictional blow job," I say shifting around slightly to accomodate my nonfictional erection. "There's more," he tells me in a sing-song voice. //When he moved back up Viggo's body, Orli found himself brought into a searing kiss. His erection pressed against Viggo's thigh, and it only took a few minutes of intense snogging before Viggo was hard again as well. Viggo grabbed the lube he had retrieved earlier and spread it over his fingers before reaching down to slide two fingers into Orli's body. "You're so tight," Viggo gasped.// //It's been a while," Orli managed to say as he was stretched inside by the questing fingers. He nearly rocketed off the bed when Viggo's fingers found his prostate and stroked the small gland. "Fuck!" he cried.// //"Like that?" Viggo asked with a cheeky smile.// //"You know I do," Orli growled, pushing his hips down. "More, give me more."// //Viggo pulled his fingers out and generously coated lube over his massive erection.// "*Massive*?" I ask incredulously. "I'm not *that* big." "Speaking as someone who's taken your cock up his arse, yes you really are," Orli informs me. //Orli squirmed impatiently on the mattress as he waited for Viggo to be ready. Finally, his legs were hoisted over Viggo's shoulders, and he felt the insistent push of a dripping cock at the entrance to his body. "Do you want me to be gentle?" Viggo purred. Unable to speak, Orli settled for shaking his head furiously. He wanted to be fucked good and proper, not to be treated like some china doll.// //Viggo entered him with a powerful thrust that ripped a cry from Orli's throat. His back arched off the bed, and a wonderful mix of pain and pleasure shot through his body. It was almost too good to be true as Viggo began pounding into him mercilessly, each thrust devastatingly intense. Forget whatever expectations Orli had about what sex with Viggo would be like -- this far surpassed them.// //The pace was furious as Viggo screwed Orli into the mattress, his powerful arms braced on either side of Orli's head. Orli reached down and started to wank himself while thrusting his hips up to meet Viggo's cock as it plunged into him. When Viggo changed his angle slightly and hit Orli's prostate, it caused the other man to scream with pleasure.// "Um, you scream with pleasure? Doesn't this wake our neighbors?" "We don't have neighbors," he says. "Need I remind you again that it's fiction?" //Viggo, yes!" Orli cried, stroking his cock faster as he tried to bring himself to orgasm. "Oh God, yes! More!" He was silenced by a kiss, Viggo's tongue beginning to fuck his mouth. Orli settled for whimpering, sparks exploding behind his eyelids as he felt wave after wave of pleasure wash over him. All he could do was surrender to it, so he did, letting his orgasm overtake his body as he came all over his hand and stomach.// //Viggo threw his head back and continued to fuck Orli's tight arse. Orli watched in rapture as Viggo got closer and closer to coming, his powerful body beginning to shake. "Yes," he gasped, thrusting into Orli one last time as he came. "Orli!" he howled. Orli gasped at the feeling of Viggo's heat filling him; this was sex at its best.// "Wow," I say, placing the notebook on the floor next to the bed. "That's quite a story." "You're not even finished with it!" Orli exclaims. "There's six more pages, and we fuck four more times! Plus, you get to rim me -- I know how much you love that!" I laugh. "I'm afraid I need a break before I read any more of that, love." "I knew you'd hate it," he sighs. "Orli, I don't hate it at all," I tell him, pulling him flush against my body. "You just got me a little worked up." He gasps as he feels my erection through my jeans, and tilts his head to give me a kiss. His nimble fingers quickly unzip my fly and reach into my boxers to pull my cock out, then he slithers down to take me into his mouth, just like he had done in that story of his -- except this is obviously *so* much better. He pulls off just long enough to impatiently yank my pants the rest of the way off so as to ease his task, then goes back to work after giving me a quick wink. It's wonderful, but it's still not enough; I need to feel and taste him as much as he needs that from me. "Wait a second," I groan, summoning the willpower to push him off of my cock. Every nerve in my body is screaming for release, but I have to ignore that for a moment or two. "What?" Orli looks at me with his lips red and swollen from kissing (not to mention a certain other oral activity), and there's a full pout on his face. Instead of answering him, I reach forward and pull off his oversized tee-shirt -- it's actually mine, but that doesn't matter -- before pulling down his sweatpants and boxers. I'm already lying down, so I simply maneuver Orli so he's straddling my face. He gets the idea and falls into a 69 position, his mouth resuming its place on my cock and sucking diligently as his own leaking erection nudges at my lips. I open my mouth just enough so his precome trickles in, and I swirl it around with a grin before letting the head of his cock pass into my mouth. This is something we don't do very often, but it's a fairly easy rhythm of giving and taking for us to get into. The wonderful thing about it is that Orli tends to moan a lot when his cock gets sucked, and when he moans while sucking *my* cock, that shoots some terrific vibrations through my whole body, which only makes me suck harder, which in turn makes him moan even more, and so on. It's a great position. I reach up to grab his ass, sliding a finger between the cheeks and finding the tight pucker. pushing the tip of my finger in a tiny bit. The reaction is immediate, as Orli deep-throats me in gratitude and reaches down to fondle my balls. I don't go any deeper with my finger, but instead slide it forward to press against his perineum. He swallows around me, moaning again as he bucks his hips and comes in my mouth. He continues to suck me as he rides out his orgasm, and I welcome his come, eagerly swallowing the thick fluid. I reach my own climax a moment later, groaning and gasping as he expertly sucks me. After my body calms down and Orli settles back onto the mattress, I pull him up for a deep kiss. "You taste very nice," he declares. "That's because I taste like you," I chuckle. "You know, Vig -- if you're this worked up after reading only the first part of the story, maybe you shouldn't continue. I mean, I'd feel terribly guilty if my slash gave you a heart attack or something." "I somehow doubt you have to worry about that," I assure him, retrieving the notebook again. "Okay, but promise me something?" he requests as we settle in to resume our reading, not bothering to put clothes back on since we know they'd just end up being taken off again later. "Anything, love." "When we finish reading this, can we act it out?" I grin at him. "You pervert. Of course we can." TITLE: Pretty Good Year (5/22) AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com) WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom RATING: PG-13 SUMMARY: To beard or not to beard? (Orli's POV) WARNINGS: Angst DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination ARCHIVE: Help yourself, just drop me a line so I can brag to my friends "So what's the big crisis?" I ask Robin as I sit down in one of her office chairs. "You sounded very stressed when I talked to you on the phone this morning." "I'm a publicist, sweetheart," she laughs. "I'm always very stressed." "Okay, but what's stressing you out right now? Why did I have to come down here on a perfectly lovely Friday morning?" Robin sighs. "Orlando, you are poised to be one of the hottest young stars in the world right now, but there's a huge X factor that I had a feeling would need to be dealt with sooner or later." "An 'X factor'?" I ask, not quite understanding. "There's a lot of speculation popping up, especially online, about your sexuality. That's not exactly the kind of press that studio heads want to see when they're considering who to cast in their movies." My heart sinks. "What are you trying to tell me? You already know that I'm bisexual, Robin; you told me that you don't have a problem with that." "And I don't," she insists. "But what could end up hurting you in the long run is this game of is-he-or-isn't-he that you seem to be playing with the media." "What do you mean?" "Come on, Orlando." She pulls out a photocopy of the 'Premiere' article on Viggo and reads aloud part of my quote. "'I can't believe how much this is going to make me sound like I'm in love with the guy.' Which did indeed make you sound like you were in love with the guy. There are a number of other quotes about Viggo that I could reference which sound a bit suspicious, plus the way you two were so affectionate at the 'Two Towers' premiere, not to mention a certain kiss you gave him at the 2001 Cannes Film Festival." I squirm uncomfortably in my seat at the mention of that kiss. "You seem to be dropping hints all over the place, about both your sexuality and the fact that you two are together. It really can't go on like this." "Is this your way of telling me that I should break up with Viggo?" I charge angrily. "Because I can tell you right now, that's *never* going to happen. I'd walk away from this bloody profession before I'd walk away from him." "That's not what I'm suggesting at all," Robin says, holding up her hands defensively. "I'm actually thrilled that you're with Viggo. The relationship that the two of you have is a big part of why I know you won't be distracted by all the bullshit that fame and success can bring with it." "Then what *are you suggesting?" "The way I see it, you have two options here." She stands up and begins to walk around the room. "The first one is to come out, which would stop all of this speculation." "Alright." I lean back in the chair. "We're coming out in ten months; you know that." "No, not in ten months. You would need to come out *now*." I shake my head vehemently. "I can't do that, Robin. Viggo and I made an agreement." "Could you talk to him about it?" she pleads. "Maybe see if he'd be willing to rework the date?" "Sure," I say sarcastically. "I'll tell him to forget whatever discussions we had on the issue because my publicist is concerned about some internet gossip. Forget it. January 2004 is when we're coming out, and that's final." "Okay, then what about the second option?" "What's that?" I ask with some trepidation. "Get a beard." "A what?" Robin sits down again, only this time in the chair next to mine. "There is a wonderful young actress who I represent; she's sweet, smart, and very talented. I'm looking for a way to get her face out there a little more, and at the same time counteract the rumors about your sexuality. If the two of you could make a few public appearances together -- nothing major, you wouldn't have to do anything more than hold hands--" "Are you insane?!" I exclaim. "Orlando, it's not unheard of," she tells me. "There are other actors who do this so they can maintain an image." "Well, good for them." "You won't even consider it?" "No." She runs a hand through her hair in frustration. "What are we supposed to do, then?" "For God's sake, I could care less what people think," I say with exasperation. "Let them speculate all they want." "This is really going to give me ulcers, Orlando. It would make my life a lot easier if you simply met with Kate and then decided what you wanted to do." "Kate?" "Kate Bosworth," she explains. "My client. She's coming here in an hour; would you stick around so that you could have lunch with her?" "Yeah, I guess . . ." I sigh. "This is absolutely insane." Robin shrugs. "This is Hollywood." ***** It's difficult to resist slamming the front door in frustration when I enter the house, but I manage to keep my temper in check. When I walk into the kitchen to grab a drink, I can see that Viggo and Henry are out on the patio, talking about something. Not wanting to bother them with my bad mood, I quietly slink off to the bedroom with some iced tea. This is such a mess. I curl up on the bed, quickly forgetting about my thirst, and quickly clutch Viggo's pillow to my chest. My shoes are kicked off, and I slip under the covers despite the fact that I'm wearing jeans. Within moments, I fall asleep. When I wake up again, the pink sunset is filtering through the bedroom window, and Viggo is sitting next to me on the bed, one hand holding a book while the other strokes my hair. "Hey," I say groggily. He jumps a little at the sound of my voice, then looks down with a concerned smile. "Hey yourself. Are you okay? Are you sick?" "Sick? No. Okay? I'm not so sure." "I got your message that you were having lunch out, but I didn't see you come in earlier. Then I found you in bed and thought that maybe you weren't feeling well." He drops his book by the side of the bed, placing both of his hands on my cheeks so he can pull me in for a kiss. "What's wrong, baby?" "My meeting with Robin was . . . not great," I say. That's the understatement of the year. "Publicists," Viggo sighs. "The bane of an actor's existence." I manage a slight chuckle. "I don't have a problem with *her* so much as with what her job calls for me to do on occasion." "And what does it call for you to do now? What does she need from you?" "She needs me to . . ." I trail off, not knowing what to say. "Apparently, there's a lot of speculation about me online." "Speculation?" Viggo frowns. "What do you mean?" "About my sexuality," I clarify. "About your sexuality too, for that matter. About us. Like the RPS stuff, for example." "Okay. But what does that have to do with Robin?" "Apparently a lot. She thinks these rumors will start making the rounds in Hollywood, and my career will be affected. She sort of gave me an ultimatum." "She *what*?!" I can hear the anger in Viggo's voice. "She has no right to do that, Orli! What did she say?" "She sort of gave me two options. The first one was to come out right now, which I guess would shut up all the speculation." I take his hand in mine. "But I told her that was not an option, Vig. I told her we had committed to a date, and we were sticking to it." The relief is evident on his face. "And the second option?" I stay silent for a few moments before finally telling him. "She, uh, she wants me to date a girl. To *pretend* to date a girl. So that the rumors will stop, you know?" "And what did you say?" he asks. "I said no," I tell him firmly. "Viggo, I would never pretend to care about someone else the way I care about you. I wouldn't do that to you, or to us. No career is worth more than our relationship." "Did you meet the girl?" "Um, yeah," I say, slightly taken aback by his question. "Robin wanted me to have lunch with her, so I did that basically to get her off my back." "What's she like?" "She's very nice. Her name is Kate Bosworth; she's another one of Robin's clients. She was in that sufing movie last year -- 'Blue Crush'." "Did you two get along?" I frown. "Sure we did. She's sweet and smart, and we had a few things in common. But I don't see where you're going with this, Vig. I mean, I've already decided that I'm definitely not going to *use* this girl as a beard." "Well, maybe you should," Viggo says. "What? Viggo, what are you talking about? Why on earth would I do that?" "Orli, the rumors aren't going to stop--" "They're stupid internet rumors!" I exclaim. "You want me to pretend to date this girl and totally disrespect our relationship because people are speculating about who I'm shagging?!" "Listen to me, love," he pleads, his hands curling around my arms and pulling me in closer. "You are on the brink of something special. You have 'Lord of the Rings', 'Pirates of the Caribbean', and now your new role in 'Troy'. You're young, you're beautiful, and you're talented. All the directors are going to want to cast you in their movies. But these rumors, even if you think they're stupid, *do* grab attention in this town. This is a business that is driven by gossip." "I don't get it. We're coming out in ten months, and that's no problem, but the fact that I refuse to talk about my personal life or sexuality means I have to pretend to have a girlfriend?" I pull away from him. "I can't believe you think this is a good idea! It cheapens what we have! I'd feel like such a complete fraud!" "It's just another role, Orli." "Oh sure, 'just another role'. One where I'm required to ignore the fact that I have a wonderful boyfriend, and pretend that I'm completely heterosexual--" "There's a reason why you need to do this!" he tells me sharply. "People are not as understanding as they should be! I'm not saying that this is fair or easy; it's a sacrifice, and it's not one that you should have to make. But this is a business built on *image* and you have to accept that." "I can't believe this. You just . . ." I sigh. "Doesn't this bother you? I mean, I'm going to be out with a girl I barely know, holding her hand and pretending to date her! I'm sure that our pictures will surface in all the magazines. How will *you* handle that? I couldn't do this if it would upset you." Viggo holds out his hand to draw me back in for another embrace. "I'll be okay, because I know it's not real. Besides, I doubt you'll be having public make-out sessions with her." "No, nothing like that," I say, managing a small laugh. "Robin said it wouldn't go beyond holding hands." "So it would be like watching you in a movie," he explains. "I'd be able to handle it. And it's only for a few months, so there won't be a million photo-ops anyway." He pauses. "Look Orli, I can't make you do anything, and I don't want this to be something that really becomes a problem between us; we've had enough to deal with already. But could I just give you one more reason why I think it's a good idea?" "Sure." "You could sabotage it and make it backfire on Robin. Sort of a 'fuck you for meddling with my personal life,'" he tells me with an evil grin. My eyebrows raise. "Sabotage? What are you planning, old man?" His grin grows wider, and I can't help but join in with my own smile. "Okay, you'd obviously have to talk to Kate first and make sure she's fine with the idea. But if the two of you both want to, you could show up at the photo-ops and look really distracted and not interested in each other to the point that you barely make eye contact. That way it looks staged, and no one really buys the rumors that you're dating. Plus, you refuse to talk about your personal life, saying it's nobody's business, so your 'relationship' with Kate amounts to absolutely nothing." "I'm impressed," I laugh. "I never knew you could be so devious." Viggo shrugs. "Sometimes I surprise even myself. But what do you think?" "Well, I think I can survive a few months of a fake relationship for the sake of the most important *real* relationship of my life," I tell him. "I just hate that we have to deal with shit like this." "So do I, love. I know it's not easy, but we can try to make the best of it." "I guess I should call Robin and tell her I've changed my mind; she'll be thrilled." "She'll change her mind when she sees how unconvincing you and Ms. Bosworth will be together," Viggo chuckles. "*If* I can get her to go along with your evil scheme," I remind him. "At the very least, you and I could always piss her off by coming out someplace very public. He snorts. "Yeah, like the White House Lawn or something." "I somehow doubt that would go over well with a number of people," I laugh. "Exactly." He grins and kisses me, his hands gently stroking my back. "Feeling any better?" he asks when he pulls away, briefly nuzzling my nose. "Yeah, but . . ." Viggo frowns and strokes my cheek with his thumb. "But what?" "I could use a few more of those kisses," I tell him with a smile. TITLE: Pretty Good Year (6/22) AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com) WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom RATING: PG-13 SUMMARY: Adding to the family (Viggo's POV) WARNINGS: None DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination ARCHIVE: Help yourself, just drop me a line so I can brag to my friends "Okay, I'm all done packing!" Orli exclaims triumphantly as he strides into the kitchen. "It took me all morning, but my torturous task is finally complete. I got everything -- clean underwear, relationship journal, passport, swim trunks, toothbrush, sandals, and so on." I smile at him. "Good. Did you remember to pack socks?" "Fuck, I forgot about socks!" His eyes widen in horror. "I don't even know if I have enough clean ones to take with me!" "Relax, love," I chuckle. "I know that you always forget to pack socks, so I made sure you *did* have enough clean ones yesterday. They're all in the dresser, just waiting to be packed." A look of immense relief comes over his face, and he walks over to sit down on my lap. "You are the absolute best boyfriend. I don't even want to *think* about what I'd do without you." "Well for starters, you'd go off to film 'Troy' without any socks." Orli laughs and kisses me, his arms sliding around my neck. "And that would have been a disaster." "I'm sure you would have survived," I tease him. "They do sell socks in other parts of the world, you know." "Don't mock me," he pouts. "I would never mock you," I say solemnly. "You're mocking me right now." "You're right, I am." I kiss his nose and he grins widely, pulling me down for a much longer kiss on the mouth. "I'm going to miss you so much, Vig. I hate that I'm leaving tomorrow and then we'll be apart for another three months." "We're going to see each other in New Zealand for reshoots," I remind him, trying to coax a smile out of him. "That's only two months from now." "I know." He rewards me with a small smile. "I don't mean to get down, I just feel like an arse for flying off like this every six months--" "Orli, you're building a career," I interrupt gently. "This is what you have to do; trust me, I know. And besides, you love what you do. You've had the time of your life on every movie you've worked on, and I would never take that away from you. So don't feel bad about this. You're about to go back to London, and then to Malta and Mexico to film an epic movie about ancient history -- there is absolutely no reason for you to feel like an 'arse'. I certainly don't see you as one." "Yeah, but you're gonna miss me, right?" I chuckle. "Of course I'm going to miss you, love; I hate it when we're apart. But I manage to get through it, and you're never more than a phone call away." I lean forward for a kiss. "Don't beat yourself up, okay?" He smiles again, but this time it's much wider. "Okay. Listen, there are some last-minute errands I need to run today, so I'm gong to head out and do those now." "Like what?" I ask as he disengages himself from our embrace. "Just a few things. I thought I'd stock up on Maude's dog food because you can never remember exactly what kind she needs," he teases. "And I should take those videos we rented back to the movie place, because otherwise you'll forget to do that." "How on earth did we function without each other? You can't remember your socks, I can't remember to return rental videos . . . we're fine when we have the other person to look after us, but we're hopeless otherwise." Orli laughs. "It's sad but true. Is there anything you need me to get for you while I'm out?" "No, I'm fine. Enjoy your errands." I pull him down for a goodbye kiss, then watch with a smile as he collects the rental videos and his car keys before bounding out the door. ***** "Need a hand with the dog food?" I ask as Orli staggers through the front door with a massive bag. "No, I got it," he assures me. "Remember, I'm a big, strong, macho man." "Of course you are. How could I forget that?" He laughs and dumps the heavy bag down in the kitchen. "Okay, now stay here. I have a surprise for you. I just need to get it from the car." "A surprise?" "Yeah," he says, trying to catch his breath a little. "Trust me on this, Vig. You'll love it." His eyes have that michievous glint that I love. "I'll be right back." "I'll be waiting." I put the dog food away as he runs back out to the car, wondering what he has in store for me now. Knowing Orli, it could be anything. "Okay, close your eyes!" he calls when he reenters the house. I dutifully obey, hearing the door close and his footsteps approach. A heavy weight is placed on the kitchen table, and Orli guides me over and sits me down in front of the table. "Can I open my eyes yet?" "Not yet." I hear the click of some kind of latch, and I jump as something that's *moving* is deposited in my lap. My eyes reflexively shoot open and I'm shocked to meet the curious gaze of a tiny black kitten. "What . . . why is there a kitten in my lap?!" Orli grins and kneels down next to me, stroking the kitten's head. "This is our new cat, Viggo." "Our new cat?" I look down at the kitten, who's now rubbing the side of its head against my stomach in a play for affection. Unable to resist smiling, I reach down and assist Orli in petting the creature, earning a purr of satisfaction. "Hi there," I laugh. "You're a friendly thing." "Do you like him?" Orli asks earnestly. "I love animals, Orli. I think we can definitely handle having a kitten around the house. And I can't imagine that Henry would have a problem with it." "Oh, I already cleared it with Henry. He was the one who went online to research the animal shelters for me." My eyebrows raise. "You really planned this thing out, huh?" He blushes and scoops the kitten up, petting it behind the ears. "Well, once I got the role in 'Troy', I thought you could use some extra company around the house for when Henry stays with Exene. Maude would probably get jealous if I even considered getting another dog, so a cat seemed to be the perfect solution." "So this is the newest addition to our family?" I chuckle. "Exactly," he says, his eyes lighting up as he realizes that I really like the idea of having a cat. "Please tell me that you bought things such as cat food and a litter box." Orli grins. "Of course I did. They're in the car; I'll go get them and let you two get acquainted." The kitten docilely allows itself to be handed off to me, and I can't help but smile as I look at the creature. Once again, it rubs up against me, and I oblige it by stroking its back. "You're very easy to please, aren't you?" I chuckle as he purrs loudly. "Then again, you're probably just happy to have a home." Just then, Maude comes trotting into the kitchen and immediately spots the black furball on my lap. Thinking that the kitten is in some way a dangerous aggressor, she starts yapping her head off, startling the poor kitten half to death and making him flee my lap. What follows is a fairly farcical chase of me pursuing a dog who's out to defend her homestead by pursuing a terrified kitten. "What the hell is going on?" Orli cries as he comes into the living room to see the chase in full swing. "I don't think Maude was expecting a cat to join the family," I explain as I make a lunge for the normally very sweet dog, completely missing her and ending up on my ass. "Maude, stop it this instant!" Orli yells. Yeah, like *that* will accomplish anything. Finally, I'm able to recapture the kitten, who's trembling like a leaf in the wind, the poor thing. This isn't a wonderful first impression for him to have of the household. "Ssh, it's okay," I tell the kitten softly. "That's a bad dog," Orli scolds Maude. "That cat is a part of the family now, and you'd better get along with him!" He drags her over to the couch, where I've sat down with the kitten. "Now, play nice." The kitten struggles in my grasp as it sees the vicious killer Maude approaching, but I hold him firmly. "It's okay," I say again. This is slightly absurd, but this house is crazy enough without a pet war. Maude nudges the cat with her nose as a type of canine apology, and the cat appears to calm slightly, gently poking Maude's nose with his paw. All seems to be forgiven. "Welcome to your new home," Orli tells the kitten, leaning down to give it a kiss on the head. ***** "We still haven't given him a name," Orli obseves as we watch the kitten leap up gracefully onto the bed. "I'm not going to leave you alone tomorrow with an unnamed cat." I laugh and scoop the cat up in my arms. "Alright. Maybe we should coordinate it with Maude's name -- make it alliterative. Like Mortimer and Maude, Maximilian and Maude, Merlin and Maude." He makes a face, taking the cat from me. "No, let's not do that. What about some nice cat names, like Archie or Walter?" The kitten chooses that moment to wriggle out of his arms, and we both chuckle. "I guess he doesn't like those choices." "Well, since you got this cat because you're going off to film 'Troy', we could always go the Greek route," I suggest. "I'm sure the cat wouldn't mind being named Icarus or Apollo or even Zeus." "We will not be naming our cat Icarus," Orli tells me. "If you remember the tale, Icarus dies, and I don't want to jinx the kitten." We watch with bemusement as the kitten slinks around the bed, using his paws to poke at our legs through the blankets. "He's very curious," I observe. "Aren't all cats supposed to be curious?" "I guess this one is especially curious," I laugh. "Do you notice how he pokes at everything with his paws? It's like a little kid who needs to tough everything that he can." "I got it!" Orli exclaims, startling both me and the kitten. "Pokey!" "What?" "We should name the cat Pokey. You were just saying that he likes to poke at things with his paws, so we should call him Pokey." "Pokey?" I look at the sleek black kitten who has resumed his exploration of the bed, and contemplate whether the somewhat goofy name befits such a beautiful little creature. When I realize that he's somewhat goofy himself, batting at everything in sight, I grin. "Actually, I think Pokey is the perfect name." "You shall be Pokey the cat," Orli declares as he picks up the kitten again. Pokey looks unaffected by the fact that he has a name. He nuzzles Orli's neck and purrs loudly; Orli leans back against the pillows, cradling Pokey carefully. "He might want to sleep with us tonight, Vig," he whispers, as if Pokey would be upset by hearing the words. "He might be scared to sleep alone in a new place." I struggle to keep myself from laughing. "Why don't we let him decide where he wants to sleep? He seems to be a fairly intelligent cat, and I'm sure he'll make a wise choice." "Are you mocking me again?" he asks, his eyes narrowing. "Yes." We both laugh, and I lean in for a long kiss. Orli makes a noise of discontent, and I understand why as a paw bats at our faces. "Is there something you want?" Orli laughs, looking down at Pokey, who's still perched on Orli's chest. The kitten meows in response. "I'm sorry, I don't speak cat," Orli tells him. "I think he just wants a little attention," I chuckle, reaching over to pet Pokey's head. Sure enough, Pokey purrs in gratitude and snuggles against my palm. "Well, the menagerie is all here," Orli says as Maude comes into the room and plops down next to the bed. "Two pets is hardly a menagerie." "Close enough," he shrugs. To our great amusement, Pokey spies Maude and immediately scampers off of us, running over to her and circling the dog warily, remembering this afternoon's chase scene and its resulting truce. When Maude makes no move to attack, Pokey joins her on the floor and curls up right next to her. Both pets close their eyes and decide to call it a night. "Okay, *that* is cute," Orli laughs. "That's adorable." I look at him and grin. "Thank you so much for the gift of Pokey." "You're very welcome. I hope he'll be good company for you while I'm away." "I'm sure that he will be, but you're not gone just yet. Care to have some mind-blowing goodbye sex?" Orli rolls on top of me. "I thought you'd never ask." TITLE: Pretty Good Year (7/22) AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com) WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom RATING: R SUMMARY: Relationship journals, pt. 3 (Alternating POV) WARNINGS: None DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination ARCHIVE: Help yourself, just drop me a line so I can brag to my friends AUTHOR'S NOTES: Once again, I'm not sure of exact filming dates and itineraries, so if I'm a bit off, please forgive me 14.4.03 I have a splitting headache and I'm exhausted. It's really after midnight on the 15th, but I'm still on California time, so I dated this entry the 14th of April. I'm sitting in the guest room of Sam's flat (formerly *my* flat), and I must admit that it's a bit odd to be back in England for the first time in a year, even if I've only been from Heathrow to the flat tonight. I thought I'd spend the rest of my life in this country, but I guess it goes to show that you never know what twists and turns your life will take. While I admit that I do miss living in London, it can't compare to Los Angeles for one very simple reason -- you're with me in L.A. Yes, it's the start of one of our grand separations, and the homesickness and longing for my lover are already kicking in, right on schedule. I suppose I should probably take some medicine for my headache and get some sleep before I collapse of fatigue and get a tongue-lashing from Sam (trust me, those are *bad*). So I'll sign off here before I start losing all signs of coherency. I miss you, my faraway, faraway Viggo. 4-15-03 It's a beautiful spring day here in sunny California. The birds are singing their heads off, the flowers are beautiful, and everything seems to be wonderfully idyllic. Except for the fact that you're not here. Oh, Orli . . . I miss you so much already. I think that first night is always the hardest, you know? Waking up the next morning, turning over instinctively to grasp for you, only to suddenly remember that you're several thousand miles away. I'm really not trying to make you feel guilty, because that wouldn't accomplish anything positive; and besides, it's not like I haven't left to go film movies myself. It's just so difficult, and I wish you were here. I wish I could hold you. At least I have a number of things planned to keep me busy while you're away. I'm going to Cuba for a week in May, which should be fascinating, and then I go back to Denmark for the first time in a long while -- and I'm taking Henry along with me. Not to mention a two-week stop in New Zealand for the last of the reshoots, where we'll get to have some time together. Then it's back to Denmark and then to L.A. until you finish up with 'Troy' in Mexico and get yourself back home. So it's really not so bad at all. And you're only a phone call away. Which means that my phone bill will clear out my bank account. I miss you, I love you, I adore you. 17.4.03 Guess who liked my work as Legolas? Brad Pitt! Brad bloody Pitt! I couldn't believe it! He walked into this meeting the entire cast had, immediately recognized me, shook my hand, and told me that he loved the 'Rings' movies and thought I did a terrific job as Legolas! And everyone else seems fantastic; the director is professional but has a sense of humor about the whole thing, and I think I'll have a really good time making this film. Of course, the best part of the meeting was that Sean was there. Even though I won't have a single scene with him, we will be in Malta and Mexico together, so we'll be able to hang out and relax while reminiscing about New Zealand and gossiping about our friends like a couple of old biddies. It should be a blast! I just wish you were there with us. I miss you, my wonderful, wonderful Viggo. 4-17-03 I had dinner with some of our friends tonight, specifically the Astin family, Lij, and Dom. Everyone sends their love, and Allie sends you a big, big hug (I think she might have a little crush on you). Of course, Sean and Christine's baby girl was there, and I couldn't help but think about the fact that we've decided to have a child. It's something I'm truly thrilled about, Orli. We obviously don't know exactly when it'll happen, or exactly how, but sooner rather than later, we will have a child to call our own. I remember the first time I held Henry in my arms and he looked up at me with wonder in his blue eyes. There was this connection that we made right then and there that I can't describe, and I couldn't be happier when I think about the fact that I have the chance to make that connection with another child. I have no doubt that you are going to be a remarkable father. You have an incredible amount of love to give, and you're so dedicated to the happiness of those you care about. Our child will be incredibly lucky to have you as a parent, just as I'm incredibly lucky to have you as a partner. 20.4.03 Sometimes, you learn lessons the hard way. Like the lesson that you should never drink rum with your older sister. See, I was telling her all about the part in 'Pirates' where Jack and Elizabeth are marooned and drink rum, and Jack gets totally monged. For some reason, Sam thought it'd be a good idea to drink some rum ourselves, and I agreed, not remembering how loose-lipped I tend to get when inebriated. To make a long story short, we consumed quite a bit of rum at the flat, and the talk turned to my sex life. Yes, this might be the point where you start thinking about looking for a new boyfriend. I did indeed tell Sam things that brothers should not tell their sisters, such as that my boyfriend can suck a hose dry and has a very large cock. She also now knows about the incident in the loo at that club in Wellington, as well as the handjob at the 'Two Towers' premiere, and the Aragorn/Legolas roleplaying. I was obviously really hoping that she would have forgotten all of these ribald bits of information by this morning, but no such luck. She served me bangers for breakfast, apologizing for the fact that they weren't as big as the sausages I'm used to swallowing. I have a feeling that I won't live this down for the next fifty years, although she probably won't tease me very much for my idiocy. One thing has become abundantly clear, though -- I should never drink rum again. I'm such a bloody fool. I miss you, my (hopefully) forgiving, forgiving Viggo. 4-23-03 Maude has a stalker. His name is Pokey. Our cat is now stalking our dog, and it's pretty damned cute. That first scuffle between the two of them has long since been forgotten, and now Pokey follows Maude *everywhere*, even when Maude goes out into the backyard. Luckily, Maude doesn't seem to mind, and plays with Pokey all day long. They've become quite a team, and they still sleep next to each other at night. Not much else is going on here. Henry is staying at Exene's for the rest of the week, then next week, Ex and I are taking him out for his birthday. Is it really possible that he's going to be fifteen? It seems like just yesterday that he was mastering the fine art of riding a tricycle. Ah, how time flies. 26.4.03 Phone sex is good. Phone sex is great. Phone sex helps me to masturbate. I miss you, my carnal, carnal Viggo. 4-30-03 Henry *really* appreciated your birthday gift. I know he's already tracked you down on your cell phone to tell you that himself, but I thought I'd mention it again anyway. Exene and I did our usual birthday ritual with him, taking him to Disneyland; I have a feeling he'll still be going there for his birthday even when he's sixty. Of course, we got more fun than usual out of riding Pirates of the Caribbean. Exene was teasing me by asking if you were playing one of the wenches who gets auctioned off as a bride. I have to admit that when I got home, I snuck off to the computer and went straight for the Disney website to check out the trailer for the movie. Is that sad? I guess it's to be expected, though. Your fan club consists of millions of young girls and one very horny 44-year-old man. 1.5.03 Oh God, it is *beautiful* here! Malta is spectacular! They couldn't have picked a better spot to make this film in. It's like how New Zealand was perfect for Middle Earth -- this is perfect for the ancient world we're trying to recapture for 'Troy'. I have a giant hotel room since I seem to be a big star (although I have no idea how that happened), and I'm right down the hall from both Sean and Brad. That's right -- Brad. I'm on a first-name basis with him now; how awesome is that? This really is the coolest career in the world. I get to go to the most exotic and glamorous places, hang out with big stars who turn out to be the most down-to-earth people, and play characters like Legolas and Paris and Will Turner. It still amazes me how lucky I've been to have this career. I really try not to take it for granted, especially since I know how hard you had to work for years just to get decent parts. I'm so thrilled that people are finally taking notice of how absolutely brilliant you are. I miss you, my talented, talented Viggo. 5-3-03 I finally finished putting together the Middle Earth Photo Album you gave me for Christmas. It's page after page of pictures from our experiences both on-set and off, and even though I'm not one for any kind of structure, I've managed to arrange them by chronological order so that the album can tell some kind of a story. Not surprisingly, you're the most popular subject of my photos. I remember it was my fifth day on the set when I brought my camera, after asking Pete's permission to do so. You asked me, "What's the deal with the camera, Viggo?" I told you that I was hoping to take a few pictures, since this seemed like such a unique place. A few pictures. Try hundreds and hundreds of pictures. You've probably heard me say this a thousand times, but you are so unbelievably beautiful. In every single photograph I placed in the album, you look absolutely stunning. And no, I don't think that I'm biased at all. 4.5.03 Okay, so yesterday I go out on a boat and some tabloid hack takes a picture of me without my shirt. The photo is apparently now all over the web! I got a phone call this morning from Atti congratulating me on having "upped my beefcake quotient." My publicist must be thrilled that girls worldwide are squealing over my nipples. Is this why I went to drama school? I miss you, my comforting, comforting Viggo. 5-7-03 Tonight, I finally met Henry's girlfriend, the elusive Jemila. She's a lovely girl, and I can understand why Henry is crazy about her. He brought her over to study after school (although they might have been kissing in his room; I can't prove it), and she stayed for dinner. We ended up talking about Arab-American relations, which she knows a lot about; her parents are originally from Egypt and Iran. What's really adorable is that she's slender and just over five feet tall, while Henry is almost my height, so they make a really cute little couple. Although I still can't believe my son has a girlfriend. He's also learning to drive, which makes me feel just a little bit . . . well, old. He's already begging me for a car -- a Ford Focus, to be exact. I told him that he won't be getting his own car until he turns seventeen at the earliest, and that's depending on if he continues to get good grades. Yes, I can be a hard-liner. It makes me feel kind of like my own dad, which is a depressing thought. Not that I don't love my dad, but you swear you'll never become your parents, and then you grow up and realize it's inevitable. Well, at least I didn't name my son Viggo III. 10.5.03 I was absolutely *exhausted* after a day of very physical filming, so it was such a terrific surprise to get back to my trailer, flip on my mobile phone, check my messages, and hear you checking in to make sure that everything was alright and saying that you love me and miss me. I love and miss you, too. I'm sure that everyone was wondering why I was grinning when I emerged from my trailer, since I had been cranky upon entering it. Oh well, they probably thought I wanked or something. I must confess that I brought my 'Fellowship' soundtrack with me so that on nights like this when I'm really lonely, I can put on my headphones, crawl into bed, and simply be transported to another time and place. But I don't think of Legolas and Aragorn when I hear the music from the movie, I think of the two of us, and all of the rest of our friends who made that movie happen. And suddenly I don't feel so lonely anymore. I miss you, my (a la Gollum) precious, precious Viggo. 5-13-03 Out cat is quite the little troublemaker. Let me explain: last week, I was painting when Pokey innocently traipsed into the room and perched on the stool next to me for a while. Then he started to get restless and decided to make the jump from the stool to the table, but underestimated how far he needed to jump and missed his target. He managed to sink his claws into some papers hanging onto the edge of the table and pull them down as he fell to the ground (he was uninjured), and the papers came falling off of the table, as well as what was on top of them -- two open cans of paint. As if that's not bad enough, he did something that I know will really upset you. He destroyed the sparkly blue vibrator. Apparently, kitty claws and silicone do not mix well at all. I just left it on the bed for two minutes, and Pokey thought he had a new toy. And the timing couldn't be worse, since you're away and that vibrator has helped me through a few lonely nights and phone sex sessions. I guess I'll have to find a way to get a new one. We can't exacty walk into a sex shop or order it off the web with the kind of recognition we garner now, so another plan is needed. Bad kitty. Very bad kitty. Of course, this hadn't stopped me from petting him constantly. 14.5.03 Time for the returm of the Orlando Bloom Top 10 Lists The Top 10 Things I'm Going To Do When I See You Again 10- Hug you 9- Jump on you 8- Kiss you 7- Kiss you 6- Kiss you 5- Tear off our clothes 4- Throw you down on the bed 3- Kiss every part of you 2- Ravish you 1- Cuddle with you I miss you, my sinful, sinful Viggo 5-17-03 I'm on a flight from Venezuela to Cuba right now to spend a week in and around Havana, mostly for a show of my work. I'm going to try not to play politics at all, althought I wonder if they know about my anti-war sentiments. If any pictures of me in Cuba show up in magazines, be prepared for the fact that I've let myself grow a beard again. I'll have to trim it for the reshoots, but right now I'm sporting full frontal facial hair. It's only a month until I'll be seeing you in New Zealand, and I can't wait! I'm like a kid who's counting the days until Christmas. It will be so terrific to be back there one last time, but also strangely sad to put on that costume for the final run as Aragorn. Of course I know that the bonds of love and friendship I forged with people won't end when the trilogy leaves theaters, but there's a part of me that wishes that this role would go on forever. I love being Aragorn, and I love having his *real* beloved elf, Legolas, by my side. 22.5.03 You know what I want to do? Maybe next year or the year after, but definitely before we have a child? Take a trip together, just the two of us. I don't care where we'd go, but I've realized something from being all around the world filming these movies: there are so many spectacular places, from big cities to wide open spaces, and I want to be able to experience as many as I can. I know that we've both had the opportunity to travel around the world, but we haven't gone many places *together*. For example, you're going to Denmark next month with Henry, and I'd love to see that country. Or we could do a trip through England, or one of those road trips through the States that I know you've done, or go somewhere totally random like Fiji or Portugal. We could even just go back to New Zealand, where it all began for you and me, and explore every nook and cranny of those islands. Anyway, perhaps I'm talking out of my arse, but this is something I really want to do. I'm giving a lot of thought to cutting down on my projects, not to mention the fact that coming out in eight months might limit the offers I get. I want us to have more time to spend together as a couple, as a family, and I want to be able to do things like this. So that's my reasoning. I'm off to bed now. I miss you, my globetrotting, globetrotting Viggo. 5-25-03 Well, I'm back in California and I think Pokey and Maude are relieved I'm home. As usual, they've managed to charm their way into people's hearts -- Exene is now thoroughly in love with both of them after doing a week of petsitting for us. Apparently, they both slept on her bed to keep her company, and Maude didn't steal a single piece of food. Not even the fact that Pokey mistook Exene's favorite guitar for a scratching post could dislodge him from my ex-wife's affections. Oh, and speaking of Exene, I think she may be the solution to our vibrator problem. I explained about Pokey and the blue vibrator, and after she stopped laughing her ass off at me, she agreed to be our 'cover' (so to speak) and buy us a new vibrator. After all, she's the one who buys us lube, since we really can't do that for ourselves either. I guess I don't have a typical relationship with my ex-wife, but who gives a fuck? If I had typical relationships, I probably wouldn't be with my wonderful elf boy, and that would be terrible. 30.5.03 Is there any way you can get the hobbits to stop teasing me? Can you threaten them with blackmail or your sword? They're teasing me about 'Pirates' again. They say I look poncy in the trailer. I maintain that I simply have fine features, but they're being real tossers about it. Was there something in the book I missed about all hobbits being extremely nasty buggers once you get to know them? Grrr. So sick of being a pretty boy. I miss you, my rugged, rugged Viggo. 6-3-03 It's my first night in Denmark, and I'm extremely jet-lagged. I'm sure you know that feeling. The hotel room curtains are a very interesting shade of purple, and I would wager anything that they were purchased in the seventies. The flight was absolutely torturous, especially since Henry fell asleep, which isn't so bad in and of itself, but he apparently kicks in his sleep, which is something I learned when he managed to deliver a swift and very painful kick to my shin, just under my knee. And he was wearing heavy boots at the time. I have my own hotel room, which is good because it enables phone sex. And God, do I love phone sex. You have such a beautiful seductive voice, and I love hearing it talk dirty to me. Not to mention that active imagination of yours. And your one-track mind. While phone sex can't compare to having you by my side and writhing under me, it's still an amazing substitute. I think I'll call you tomorrow so we can have a little fun. 6.6.03 I was watching CNN International in my hotel room this morning as I was getting dressed, and there was a story that caught my eye. Apparently, the United States Supreme Court is going to hear a case about a law in Texas that makes the act of homosexual sex between consulting adults illegal. In other words, if you and I went to Texas tomorrow and did our thing in a hotel room, the coppers could burst in and drag us down to jail for engaging in 'sodomy'. What the fuck is wrong with people? Honestly, have you or I ever harmed a single person by being bisexual? Have we 'negatively influenced' those around us? Have we somehow sent out gay voodoo vibes? Has having a bisexual father warped Henry beyond repair? Has Atti ever harmed anyone by being open about his sexuality? Has Ian? I somehow doubt it. I wish these narrow-minded people would wake up and realize that they are the problem, not us. I miss you, my beautiful, beautiful Viggo. 6-10-03 It is very nice to be back in Denmark. Over the last week, I've seen countless family members, some of whom haven't seen Henry since he was about five. My aunt made such a fuss over him that she literally pinched his cheek, which is exactly the same treatment my brothers and I were put through as kids. My aunt is a strange woman. The people running the art show are wonderful, although it's still that balance of people who come to the show for the art and those who come because I'm a celebrity. Speaking of celebrities, you've become quite a big one, love. Henry and I have been checking into one of those internet cafes every few days to look at our email, and I have to admit that I surfed the net for sites about you. I was a bit overwhelmed by the outpouring of adulation you've received from your fans. I might even be a bit jealous. And yes, Henry caught me checking out your fan sites. And no, he's not letting me live it down. 13.6.03 Seven more days! I'm practically bursting at the seams, itching to get on that plane to New Zealand for the final reshoots. One last time for the wig, one last time for the blue contacts, one last time for the ear glue, one last time for the leggings (they are *not* tights, you filthy human). And of course, the best part about it is that I'll get to see everyone, from Pete to the hobbits to Ian to Henry to you. Honestly, after two months of being separated from you, I've had enough. Ten days together sounds perfect. Bring it on. I miss you, my incredible, incredible Viggo. 6-17-03 Denmark to New Zealand is an extremely long flight, so you can imagine how sleepy I am. But before I fall asleep, I want to write how much I can't wait to see you when you get to Wellington in three days. I'm counting the hours until I can have you in my arms again. TITLE: Pretty Good Year (8/22) AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com) WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom RATING: NC-17 SUMMARY: Reunited for reshoots (Orli's POV) WARNINGS: Smut + Sap = Smap DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination ARCHIVE: Help yourself, just drop me a line so I can brag to my friends "Okay, you're all checked in, Mr. Bloom," the unnaturally cheery hotel clerk tells me. "Here's your key, and I hope you enjoy your stay." "Thank you so much," I say to her. "You look very jet-lagged," she says sympathetically in a strong Kiwi accent. "Well, I just flew in from Europe," I explain as I take my key. "So I'm going to get some sleep before I do anything else." I make my way up to the tenth floor and reach my room, pulling out the key. Once I open the door to my room and lug my suitcase inside, I kick off my shoes and yawn. It's only noon, but I'm completely exhausted from the time zone changes. Pete was considerate enough to reserve interconnecting hotel rooms for Viggo and myself (Henry has his own room), and I open the door on my side, grinning when I see that my boyfriend has remembered to leave the connecting door to his room unlocked. Not surprisingly, his room is an absolute mess even though he's only been there for three days, and I close the curtains before making a beeline for the bed. I collapse on the mattress, burrowing under the sheets and inhaling deeply, smelling soap and shampoo and skin, smelling Viggo. He'll be back in a few hours when he's finished doing his thing as the King of Men, and for now I'm content to wrap myself up in blankets and snooze while I wait for him. ***** I open my eyes and gradually come awake to the sound of loud laughter outside of the room. A smile comes to my face as I immediately recognize the laughter as belonging to Henry and Dom; the 'workday' must be over and everyone is back from the set. The room is much darker than it was when I fell asleep, and a quick glance at my watch reveals it to be a little bit after seven. A moment later, the door clicks open and Viggo sneaks into the darkened room, making sure to hang the 'Do Not Disturb' sign. I sit up and turn on the lamp next to the bed so he doesn't break his neck tripping over all the crap littering the floor, and he looks over at me, startled and beautiful. "Hey," he says, a slow grin crossing his face. "I didn't know if you'd be awake or not." "I just woke up," I admit. "But I've been napping since noon, so hopefully I shrugged off my jet lag." "That's good." He removes his coat, shoes, and socks, then joins me on the bed. "How was your flight, love?" "It was fine; nothing special. How was your day?" "A lot of fun, actually." His hand skims over my cheek. "I'm so glad you're here. I've missed you so much, Orli." I reach up and pull his head down, kissing him fiercely in response. He makes a little muffled noise of surprise, but then responds enthusiastically, his tongue making its way into my mouth and tangling with my own. This is one of those I-haven't-seen-you-in- forever-and-I'm-going-to-leave-you-breathless kisses that Viggo specializes in. My hands immediately go to the fly of his trousers and pull the zipper down, wanting both of us to be naked as quickly as possible. Call me impatient all you want, but it *has* been two months since we've been together. Viggo certainly doesn't seem to mind my eagerness; his hands pull at my clothes, and we regretfully break the kiss so that we can undress each other. "When did you get so built?" he marvels after taking off my shirt. A slight flush of embarrassment comes to my cheeks. "Um, they wanted Paris to be a real stud," I explain. "So I hit the gym when I was in London, and voila -- abs of steel." "You hit the gym without me?" he asks, feigning hurt. "I could have spotted you if we had gone together." I laugh as I wriggle out of my jeans and boxers, my hardening cock springing free of its cotton confinement. "We'll have to do that some other time. Now, are you going to shag me or not?" "You're always so impatient," Viggo chuckles. "What, and you're not?" I ask, my hands making quick work of the rest of his clothes. "I need this, and I know that you do, too." I wrap my hand around his erection, reveling in the groan he lets out. "I know how much you need to be inside of me, Viggo," I whisper, flicking my tongue out to drag along his ear. "Christ," he mutters. "Lube, now." He pulls away and stumbles out of bed, searching through his bag of toiletries until he finds the tube we need. I stroke my erection as I watch him coat his fingers with the lube, wondering what position would be best. On my back, so that we can look into each other's eyes as we're making love? On my stomach, so that he can just grab my hips and ram into me? Both have their obvious appeal. Then, of course, there are a few other positions we could always use. Viggo rejoins me on the bed, his lips capturing mine for another kiss while a finger circles the entrance to my body before sinking in. I moan and push my hips down, pleading for more. He chuckles into the kiss, teasing me with another finger that enters me slowly, eventually scissoring the two fingers apart to stretch me for what's next. Our cocks brush against one another for a delicious moment, and I can feel a shudder pass through his body; it's good to know that I'm not the only one who loses his composure once in a while. When his fingers twist and curl inside of me, finding my prostate, I'm forced to break the kiss and cry out. "God, Viggo!" I exclaim. "You ready?" he asks, his voice even raspier than usual. "Yes," I manage to say, feeling my power of speech beginning to slip away. His fingers slip out of me and he reaches for the lube again, slicking it over his dripping cock. He sits up straight against the headboard and pulls me close to him; understanding what he wants, I straddle his legs and slowly slide down onto his cock, both of us groaning at the initial penetration. My hands grip his shoulders tightly as I continue to impale myself on the hard flesh until he's fully buried inside of me. It feels indescribably good to be joined with him like this again. Viggo's skin is so warm against mine, his hand is slightly rough as is glides down my back to settle on my arse and playfully squeeze it. I need to start moving, though; we both need to move. I start rocking on top of him, rotating my hips in small circles while moving up and down. He seems to like that a lot as he moans softly and leans forward to kiss me, coaxing some whimpers out of me. His hips thrust up in synchronization with my movements, and I throw my head back when his cock strikes my prostate. Viggo takes that opportunity to start nibbling on my neck, one hand tightly gripping my hip while the other begins to roam over my chest, brushing over my nipples. "You feel so wonderful," he gasps, his tongue snaking out to run along the length of my collarbone. "Oh . . . so do you . . ." My breath is coming in short gasps as we speed up the rhythm of our lovemaking; it'd be wonderful to have a long, lazy shag, but we need each other too desperately after our last separation. One of his hands is still caressing my chest, and I let out a soft cry when he pinches a sensitized nipple. I devour his mouth in another kiss, then nearly bite his tongue in surprise when that same hand moves down to close around my cock. All the while, I continue to ride him, doing everything from rocking to gyrating to thrashing on top of him. Viggo's hips piston up, driving his cock even further into me and brushing over my sweet spot over and over, and that combined with his hand on my own cock is enough to finally drive me over the edge. My attempt to wail his name as I come on his hand is swallowed by the kiss, and Viggo continues to thrust into me as he drives towards his own peak. Wanting to help him along, I lift up his sticky hand and suck his fingers into my mouth, tasting myself; he groans loudly at the sight, thrusting once more and climaxing inside of me. I smile and hug him tightly as his spent cock slips out of me. "That was quite a wonderful shag," I tell him with a grin. "I'm glad it met with your approval," he laughs, leaning down to kiss me again, his tongue dipping briefly into my mouth. "You have no idea how thrilled I am to see you again." "Yes, I do; I'm just as thrilled as you are." I plant a kiss on his cheek to emphasize my point. "I can't get over how beautiful you look," Viggo murmurs, making me blush. "I love your hair like this." His fingers comb through my curls, which are now longer than they've ever been. "It's a very seductive look for you, love." "Thank you. And did you notice the new tan?" He chuckles. "I did notice the tan. Doing some more sunbathing, have we?" "I've barely had the time. It really just happens from the process of being outdoors. It's so beautiful there, Viggo; you have to see it someday." "Maybe I will." He draws me close for another kiss. "And then, of course, there is the issue of the very sculpted chest that you're suddenly sporting. I think that once Pete hears about your transformation, he'll want Legolas in a loincloth and nothing else for these reshoots," he teases. "Wanker," I shoot back, even though I'm grinning so hard that my cheeks hurt. "God, I missed you, Vig." "Mmm, missed you more." "Not possible." "Yes, it is," he laughs. "Wanna bet?" I challenge. "I missed you so much that I saved all your messages on my mobile phone so that I could listen to your voice whenever I couldn't call you because of time differences." "I missed you so much that I rented 'Wilde' three times," he confesses. "I missed you so much that I listened to the 'Recent Forgeries' CD six times during the flight to Wellington." "I missed you so much that I brought the Love Pig to Denmark, despite the fact that Henry found out and will never let me live it down," Viggo tells me. "Okay, you might win," I say, and we both laugh. "So what's the plan for this evening?" "Nothing, really. I think everyone figured you'd want to take it easy, but if you're up to doing something--" "Nothing sounds perfect," I tell him. "I'm probably still a bit jet- lagged, and I should turn in relatively early if I'm going to give PJ a full day's work as the elf tomorrow. If you want to go out, you should feel free to, though." "Are you kidding? After spending two months apart from you, I'm not leaving your side until I'm dragged away with a crowbar." "Good. I like the sound of having you all to myself tonight." He gives me one of those smiles that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. "So does that mean I get *you* all to myself tonight?" I return his smile. "Of course it does." Viggo presses his lips to my temple, his grin widening. "Then this will be a wonderful night." TITLE: Pretty Good Year (9/22) AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@a...) WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom RATING: R (for references to sex) SUMMARY: Fun and fights in the Southern Hemisphere (Viggo's POV) WARNINGS: Some angst, some sap DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination ARCHIVE: Help yourself, just drop me a line so I can brag to my friends AUTHOR'S NOTES: The cliff-jumping incident is not made-up; Orli talked about it in an interview "Oh, holy fuck!" Orli exclaims as he reads through my relationship journal. "Pokey destroyed the vibrator?" I try to hold in my laughter as I pull a sweater over my head and turn to look at him perched on the bed of the hotel room. "Yeah, I left the room for a minute and when I got back, the vibrator had claw and bite marks that rendered it unfit for use. Pokey seemed very pleased with himself." We both start cracking up, and Orli stands up to start getting dressed, shedding his towel from our earlier, very enjoyable shower. "What on earth would a cat want with a sex toy?" "I don't think Pokey understood that it was a sex toy, love," I laugh. "I think he was more excited that it was something new for him to destroy." "So what do we do now?" he asks as he quickly darts naked through the connecting doors to his hotel room to grab clothes from his suitcase. "Use the nearest phallic object when we need something like that?" "Actually, I found an easier solution." "What? I mean, we can't just walk into a sex shop and buy a dildo, Vig. People would recognize us." "I know that." A grin crosses my face as I watch Orli hop gracelessly around the room in a struggle to get his legs into his legs. "So what did you come up with, o master problem solver? Ha, I did it!" he crows as he finally dresses himself. "I commissioned Exene to buy us a new vibrator. It'll be waiting for me when I get back from Denmark in late July." "Are you serious?" He looks very scandalized. "Viggo, how am I ever going to look her in the eye again?" "Orli, she already buys us our lube in bulk quantity," I remind him. "Besides, who else could I ask? A hobbit?" "Could you imagine?" he snorts. "I think Lijah might faint dead away if we asked him to buy us a dildo. So I guess I can live with Exene making the purchase." "If you can live with Exene buying the vibrator, I can live with you telling your sister about our sex life," I tease, remembering what I read in his journal last night after he fell asleep early. Orli turns a deep shade of crimson. "I explained in the journal that I was drunk on rum." "You and rum don't mix very well," I say sympathetically. "You're not narked, are you?" "I'm not really upset. Just don't divulge any new juicy tidbits to Sam, okay?" I laugh, grabbing the room key. "Do you have your key?" "Oh . . . um . . ." Orli searches through his pockets for his key, then crawls on the floor before finding it under the bed. "Okay yeah, I got it. I have no clue how it ended up there." "I don't want to know," I chuckle. "And I remembered to suitably muss up my bed so it looks slept in," he says proudly as he closes the doors between our rooms. "Which means that we're all ready to go and pick up Henry." "And then spend a day as Legolas and Aragorn." "Exactly." He gives me a blinding smile and kisses me full on the mouth. "After you, filthy human." "Thank you, prissy elf," I tell him, opening the door. "Let's go to work." ***** "Look at this stud!" Karl laughs, wrapping his arms around Orli and patting his chest. "Been hitting the gym with Mr. Pitt, have you? You feel rock solid, my boy." "Uh, thanks," Orli stammers. I grin from my position on my couch. After a hectic day of filming reshoots, pretty much everyone has retired to Pete and Fran's house for an evening of much-needed relaxation. Now that Karl has spotted Orli's new and improved physique, I know that much ribbing is about to take place. "It's really quite something!" John booms as he looks at my boyfriend in a shirt that inadvertently showcases his new muscles. "Charles Atlas would be proud." "He really does look like a Greek god," Billy muses. "A classical Casanova. An adorable Adonis." "Oh, cut it out," Orli mutters, blushing furiously as he pulls away from Karl's hug and tries to work his way over to me. "My question is what does that incredibly buff and toned chest look like when the shirt is off?" Lij asks as he bounds across the room with an impish grin on his face. Orli shrieks in a very comical manner as he finds the hem of his shirt suddenly yanked over his head by a hobbit, and engages in a furious battle with Lij for possession of the garment. He ends up losing the fight, and Lij clutches the shirt to his chest like a trophy. "Fine, is this what you wanted to see?" Orli asks, gesturing to his pecs and stomach. "Oh my God, Orli!" Liv wails, looking greatly distressed as she takes in the sight before her. "What happened to the skinny kid who came to New Zealand four years ago to become Legolas? You look like an underwear model now!" "I'm still the same person," Orli assures her, making a futile grab for his shirt. "I'm just a bit more muscular than I used to be." "A *bit* more muscular?" Henry cackles. "That's the understatement of the year." "I think this body is going to be the real selling point of 'Troy'," Ian tells Orli with a wink. "With no disrespect to any of your co-stars, especially our beloved Bean, I think it'll be Orlando here who draws the most audience members to the film." "Agreed," Pete says with a nod. "Helen of Troy may have had the face that launched a thousand ships, but this 'Troy' has Orlando, whose torso can sell a million tickets." "Thank you for that vote of confidence," Orli laughs, pulling his shirt over his head after finally snatching it away from Lij. This earns groans from Miranda, Fran, Liv, and Ian, all of whom apparently wanted Orli to remain shirtless for the entire evening. "Sorry guys, but the free show is over," he tells them, grinning widely as he plops down on the couch next to me. "Ah well, it was fun while it lasted," Ian sighs. "You know Orli, I've never really been attracted to men before, but you might have just changed that," Sean teases. "If I weren't married to Christine, I'd probably hitting on you right now." Everyone starts cracking up, and Orli blushes beneath his tan. "I hate to burst your bubble, mate, but I'm spoken for," he says as he wraps an arm around me. "Yeah, and if you even think of trying to steal Orli away, my dad will go crazy on your ass with a sword," Henry tells Sean with a grin, provoking more laughter. "I'm very possessive of my elf," I explain. "You really don't want to incur my wrath by stealing my boyfriend." "And nobody would ever really try to do that," Sean laughs. "We all know better." "Yeah, you're the official couple of the movie," Fran reminds us. "You made sure that Aragorn and Legolas had some of the best chemistry in the trilogy." "That's right," Miranda agrees. "Onscreen it looked like no matter how hard Eowyn tried to make a pass at Aragorn, he was like, 'Sorry babe; gotta flirt with the strumpet from Mirkwood.'" "Yes, well we all know that Viggo prefers pretty male elves," Orli says proudly as he looks up at me with a smile. "I certainly do," I laugh. ***** "How tired are you feeling?" I ask Orli, slipping my arms around him from behind in my hotel room. "Not very. Why, what are you thinking of doing, old man?" He turns to face me and places his palm on my neck. "Something risque, perhaps?" "Something along those lines," I laugh, pulling him closer. His smile fades for a second. "Actually Vig, there's something I want to talk to you about if that's okay." I frown, my hands rubbing up and down his back in reassurance. "What's the matter, love?" "Well . . ." He breaks our embrace and walks over to the bed, sitting down with a sigh. "I'm going to tell you something and I don't want you to freak out. Can you just try not to freak out?" "Of course," I say, starting to get really nervous about whatever is upsetting him. I go over to sit next to him on the bed, hoping that maybe closeness will relax one or both of us. He sighs again. "You remember how I made you that vow on your birthday about stopping my daredevil stuff? You know, the bungee-jumping and all those activities?" My blood runs cold for a second at the thought that Orli might want to renege on the promise and start his crazy activities again. Those always used to make me so stressed out. But I keep my face neutral and simply say, "Sure, I remember that." "Well, I kind of broke the promise, but not really." "What?!" Orli looks at me fearfully and I realize that I might have shouted just now. "What does that even mean, 'I kind of broke the promise, but not really'?" "I did this thing in Malta called cliff-jumping and--: "Cliff-jumping? You jumped off of a fucking cliff?!" I stand up and pace angrily around the room. "It wasn't really a cliff, Viggo." "Then why do they call it cliff-jumping?" Orli stands up as well, running an anxious hands through his curls. "It was more like jumping off of a rock into the sea; it was only about a third of the height of one of my bungee jumps. Trust me, it was nothing major." "Were there any safety restraints or was it just you jumping off of a big rock into the ocean?" I ask. "Um, there weren't any safety restraints," he mumbles. "Well, that's just great," I say sarcastically. "And did you even think to call me, or was it your plan the entire time to go behind my back for one last thrill?" "It wasn't like that!" he insists. "It was a spur-of-the-moment thing I did with a crew guy." "Couldn't you have waited a day just so you could have called me? The cliff and the ocean weren't going to go anywhere, Orlando. If you had called, at least we could have discussed this so you wouldn't have sneaked around like you did." "Listen, I'm sorry. I made a mistake and I can't take it back," he says. "I just . . . why did you make that promise if you couldn't keep it? You know how much I worry when you do things like that and yet you did another jump despite promising not to." I look at him in incomprehension. "Do I mean that little to you?" "It's not that at all! It was a stupid thrill, Vig! It was a lark, and I shouldn't have done it, okay? What else do you want me to say? I'm apologizing, so could you just accept it?" "But I don't get it, Orli -- why do you do it?" I persist. "Don't you know how dangerous it is? People only get so many chances in life. Haven't you ever seen the scar on your own back?" Shit, did I really just say that? I am such a jerk. I can't believe I brought up The Fall. Orli is quiet for a long while, looking straight at me with an unreadable expression. "I'm going to be in the other room," he says softly, walking towards the connecting doors. "If I were you, I'd leave me alone for a while." "Listen Orli, that came out all wrong," I try to explain. "Viggo, please just give me a little time, alright?" He goes into the other room and closes the door, effectively cutting me off from him. I feel so many things, from hurt and angry and betrayed that he went 'cliff-jumping', to really, really guilty about what I just said to him. But I need to take my mind off of this right now. I need to give him his time. ***** The phone is ringing. Okay, I'm awake, I can move over to answer the phone. "Hello?" "Hello, Mr. Mortensen," says a woman with a New Zealand accent. "This is your wake-up call." "Thank you," I mumble, managing to hang up the phone. Wow, it's light out so it must be morming. I guess I fell asleep in my clothes. Well, I should probably get up so that I can wake up Orli; he must still be in the other room. I hope he's willing to talk, because I don't think I could stand going much longer knowing that he's upset with me. I'm not upset with *him* anymore, and I've accepted his apology. Taking a deep breath in an effort to summon energy, I roll over only to be greeted by the smiling eyes of . . . "Orli?!" "Morning," he says sleepily. "What are you doing in here?" "Waking up next to you." "I thought you were sleeping in the other room." This is all very confusing to my sleep-addled brain. "I was going to," he admits. "But then I realized that we had just spent two months sleeping apart and I had felt so lonely. Why would I let a tiff separate us like that? I popped back in here to talk, but you were already sleeping and looked so peaceful, so I didn't wake you. I just got in bed with you and fell asleep." "Orli, I'm so sorry about the thing I said last night. I didn't mean to bring that up and I know how much it upsets you." He acts all blase about The Fall around almost everyone, pretending that while it was a big deal, he doesn't think much about it now, except for the scar that he shows off to prove how 'unaffected' by the incident he is. I know better, though. He still gets nervous around certain places like terraces and balconies, which remind him of what happened, and he's even had some nightmares over the past few years. He smiles slightly, running a hand over my cheek. "I know you didn't mean to say it but I can understand *why* you said it. And it did hurt that you brought up The Fall, but I got over it and I accept your apology. Besides, if I hadn't been such a tosser and jumped off of that cliff, you wouldn't have needed to say that," he adds. "That's hardly the point." "I made a promise to you, Viggo," he tells me seriously. "I truly intended to keep it, and I wasn't able to. But that doesn't mean that I'm giving up on that promise. If anything, I take it more seriously now than I did before our fight last night. I saw how scared for my safety you got and I don't want you to have to worry about me like that. I really promise that I'm not going to do anything stupid again; you have to believe me." "I believe you," I say softly, reaching out to drape an arm around his waist. "I just get scared, Orli. I don't want anything to happen to you." "Nothing will happen to me, because I'm not going to do that stuff anymore," he promises. "The days of Orlando-idiocy are over, finito, done, and I'm sorry for breaking your trust like that." "Apology accepted. Just don't do it again," I warn. "I won't." He kisses me softly. "I don't want you to be upset, Vig." "It's not just me you're doing this for," I tell him. "You need to be around for yourself and everyone you care about." "Even the one who isn't here yet?" Orli grins and kisses me again, running a finger over my beard. "I almost got teary when I read your journal entry about how thrilled you are that we're planning to have a child. You really are the sweetest man in the world, you know that? I love you so much, Viggo." "I love you too, Orli," I murmur, pulling him as close as possible for another kiss. "So," he says when we finally break apart, "can we move past this now?" "We definitely can," I tell him with a smile. "Good. I think the first step in the healing process--" "The healing process?" I snort. "The first step in the healing process," he says again, glaring at me, "should be a shower together, just like we had yesterday. It's perfect after a disagreement for fostering unity and erections." I start cracking up at his insanity, even though I should be used to it by this point. "I like the way you think, elf boy." My laughter intensifies as he starts to undress me while I continue lying in bed. "I like the way you laugh, old man," Orli says, standing up to strip his own