TITLE: Some Kind of Heaven (1-22/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Domestic bliss (Viggo's POV)
WARNINGS: Smut, Sap
DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination.  I also
lay no claim to the lyrics of the Beth Orton song "Feel To Believe" that
inspired this title
ARCHIVE: BTF, LBES, Lothlorien, my site; all others please ask, but I'll
surely say yes
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This series is part three in "The Viggorli Chronicles",
following "Fumbling Towards Ecstasy" and "Remember To Breathe".  Once again, there
will be smut, sap, and angst

As the afternoon fades and evening begins to take hold, I frown at the
half-finished canvas in front of me.  In my mind's eye I can see what I want to
create, but for some reason I haven't been able to make that vision a reality. 
Sighing in disgust, I resist the urge to kick something and instead resign
myself to the fact that I'm not going to get anything more done on this painting
tonight.

I turn off the lights in the studio and walk down the hallway, wondering what
Orli's doing.  It's almost dinnertime, and I hope he's in the mood for
takeout because I really don't have the energy to cook.  The entire day feels like a
waste because of my lack of production in the studio and I'm in a pretty
lousy mood right now.

When I reach the kitchen, Orli looks up from the counter and grins.  "Hey, I
was just about to come get you."

"What's this?" I ask, gesturing to the food on the table.  "Did you order
something?"

"No, I cooked for you."

"You?  *You* cooked?"  I look at the vegetable stir-fry and rice in disbelief
-- Orli can barely boil water, let alone cook an entire meal for two. 
"Really?"

"Yeah."  He's grinning like crazy and looks very pleased with himself. 
"Impressed?"

"Very impressed.  What brought on this attempt at culinary greatness?"

"Well, I knew you were in a bad mood and I thought maybe I could cheer you up
by cooking you dinner."  His grin turns into a shy smile.  "I know how much
you like stir-fry and the recipe looked fairly easy, so I gave it a shot."

"Orli . . . thank you," I say simply.  He really is the sweetest man in the
world.

"You're welcome."

"I'm sorry I'm in a bad mood, it's just this painting was driving me crazy
this afternoon."

"Don't worry about it," he assures me.  "Everyone has their bad days."  He
leans forward and kisses me gently.  "Now let's eat before the food gets cold."

*****

It turns out that dinner is excellent.  Orli beams with pride when I tell him
how good it is, that incredible smile lighting up his entire face.  My bad
mood is long gone by the time we clear the dishes; it's next to impossible to
stay grumpy when Orli's around.  Tonight it's just the two of us (Henry is
spending the week with Exene), and our plans for the evening consist of reading and
watching television.

"This is nice," Orli comments as we settle on the bed to see what's on TV.

"What is?"

"This," he says, gesturing between us.  "The domestic bliss thing, you know? 
Not having to do anything or be anywhere."

"Yeah, it's nice," I agree with a smile.

"I wish I didn't have to go to England next month," he sighs, leaning back so
his head is against my shoulder.

"It won't be so bad.  You'll get to see your family and friends."

"But I'm going to miss your gallery opening.  I feel terrible about that."

"Don't feel bad, love," I assure him, kissing the top of his head.  "You've
seen everything that I'm going to exhibit.  Let's just make the best of the
time we have together.  Besides, you're not going anywhere for three weeks."

"True."  He looks up at me and smiles.  "Wanna see what's on the telly? 
Maybe porn?"

I laugh loudly as I find the remote control and switch on the TV.  "You have
a one-track mind, don't you?"

"That I do."  His brow furrows in confusion as he looks at the screen. 
"What's C-SPAN?"

"It's political coverage.  Not exactly what we're looking for tonight."  We
flip through random basketball games, a 'Rambo' movie, and a rerun of 'Beverly
Hills 90210'.

"American television is pathetic," Orli declares.  "Hey, what's this?" he
asks, sitting up as I reach a new channel.

"Um, it's a show called 'Cops'.  It's basically the police arresting people
who then proceed to make asses out of themselves on TV."

"And people actually watch this?"

"Yeah."  I chuckle and continue flipping the channels.

"Infomercials!" he exclaims.  "Lij loves these."

"Lij is insane," I remind him.

"Look Vig, the woman is saying that this dress 'will make you irresistible to
that special man in your life'," Orli laughs.  "Maybe I should order it and
see if that's true."  I raise my eyebrows as I look at the pink suede halter
dress with rhinestones featured in the infomercial.

"If you ever wore that, I might have a heart attack from laughing too much."

"You wouldn't find me irresistible?" he pouts.

I laugh and kiss him.  "You're always irresistible."

"Yeah, I know," he jokes.

"Arrogant boy."  I continue to scan the channels.  "What about this?" I ask
when we reach Comedy Central.  "They're playing 'Dogma'."

"Perfect," he says, snuggling up to me.  "You know, I was thinking that if
they ever remake this movie they should cast Ian as Metatron.  He's got that
whole authoritative thing going but he also has plenty of cheek."

"That he does."  The movie goes to a commercial break and I can't help but
laugh as the ad for 'Fellowship' comes on.  "There we are, love."

"Look at that," Orli says disgustedly when the Aragorn/Arwen kiss flashes
across the screen.  "He's kissing the wrong elf!" he shouts at the TV.  "God, I
wish Pete had taken my suggestion to make Legolas the one Aragorn really
loved."

"You actually suggested that?" I laugh.

"No.  But it would have made the movies even better."

"Orlando, if you had your way the movies would have been an Aragorn/Legolas
porn trilogy."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Well for one thing, I'm not wild about the idea of millions of people
watching us have sex.  Or seeing you naked.  I'm the only one who gets to see you
naked."

"Yes, you are," he agrees, giving me a coquettish smile.  "Care to see me
naked right now?"

I answer him by grabbing the remote and turning off the television.  Orli
laughs and pulls me down for a kiss, his laughter turning to a moan when I dip my
tongue into his mouth.  My hand lifts the hem of his faded tee-shirt so I can
run my palm over the flat plane of his stomach, briefly skimming over the
spot under his ribs that makes him choke back laughter.  I break the kiss so I
can pull the tee-shirt off of him, smiling as tantalizing olive skin and dusky
nipples are revealed.

"You're beautiful," I tell him.  God only knows how many times I've said
that, but his beauty still takes my breath away.  I lower my lips to his neck and
nip at the smooth skin I encounter.

"Viggo," he whispers as I move down and take an erect nipple into my mouth,
sucking on it until I hear him moan.  Satisfied, I turn my attention to the
other nipple and pull at it with my teeth, immediately soothing the sting with
tender licks.  I kiss a trail down his stomach until I reach his boxers, and
then slide the underwear off of his body so I can indeed see him naked.

"Beautiful," I say again.

He blushes from the compliment.  "Well, I don't think I should be the only
one naked here."  His hands pull impatiently at my clothes until I'm as naked as
he is.  "Much better.  Why do we even bother with clothes?  We should be
hedonists and walk around in the nude all day," he suggests, running his hands
over my back and pulling me closer to him.  "It's not as if your neighbors live
close enough to see anything."

"But I'd never get anything done," I explain as I position myself between his
legs.  "I'd just want to have sex with you all day long."  I drag my tongue
along the sensitive vein on the underside of his cock, causing him to moan
softly.  "And as much as I love having sex with you, I do have other obligations."

"Vig, why are you talking?" Orli gasps.  "Use your mouth for better
purposes."

I laugh and lean forward, taking the head of his erection into my mouth and
sucking it.  Precum trickles down my throat as I slide my mouth down his length
until I've taken him all the way in.  My throat muscles swallow around his
cock and he reflexively bucks his hips; I put my hands firmly on his hips to
keep him steady as I set my own pace of sucking and licking.

Orli makes an indignant sound of protest when I pull my mouth off of his
cock, but I quickly silence him by moving up the bed and kissing him deeply. 
We're on our sides facing each other now, one of my legs slung around his waist
and our cocks pushing up against one another.  I take one of his hands and put
it on my cock, a wordless plea for gratification.  In return, I wrap my fingers
around his saliva-coated erection and begin to stroke it.

We groan into another kiss and rock our hips together as we work at bringing
each other to orgasm.  His free hand plays with one of my nipples, tweaking it
just firmly enough to send a bolt of pleasure straight to my groin.  "I'm
close," I breathe as his skillful fingers dance on the head of my cock.

"So am I," he moans, his breath hot against my skin.  "Come for me, Viggo." 
He presses a gentle bite to my neck.  "Come for me," he says again.  Unable to
resist his plea, I lose myself, groaning his name as I come; his own climax
follows a moment later, and I muffle his cries by kissing him again.

When the last aftershocks of orgasm have finished wracking our bodies, we lie
there content in each other's arms.  I finally break the embrace and rummage
through the drawer of the nightstand for the all-essential wet-naps so I can
clean the stickiness that coats our hands and stomachs.  Once the wet-naps have
been disposed of, we both put our boxers on again and get under the covers.

"What time is it?" Orli asks as he curls around me.

"About ten-thirty," I say, looking over at the clock.  "You tired?"

"A little."

"I thought young people were supposed to be blessed with incredible stamina,"
I tease.  He sticks his tongue out at me and I laugh, kissing the silky curls
on his head.  "I love your hair like this.  Have I told you that?"

"Only a million times," he says with a smile.  "Hey, where's the remote?"

"Um, it's next to the bed.  Why?"

"Those infomercials were really funny.  I'm beginning to see why Lij likes
them so much."  Orli turns on the TV and switches back to the Home Shopping
Network.  "Wow, they have miniature ceramic poodles!  We should buy some!"

"Why on earth would we do that?"

"Because if they're pose-able we can arrange them so we have ceramic poodles
going at it.  You know, like what I did with our action figures."

I laugh, remembering what happened a few days ago when I got in the car to
find the Aragorn and Legolas action figures arranged in an extremely suggestive
position on the dashboard.  "So you think we should get the ceramic poodles?"

"Definitely.  And the one they're featuring now has a dress on, which is
really cute."

"Love, you're starting to worry me."

He picks up the cordless phone from the nightstand.  "What's your credit card
number?  I'm going to call and order these poodles."

"Like hell you are!" I exclaim, grabbing the phone away from him and tossing
it onto the floor.  "You are *not* bringing those things into this house."

"Poodle-hater!" he cries, tackling me and pinning me to the mattress.  "I'm
not letting you up until you let me order the poodles."

"Orli, look -- they're advertising porcelain flatworms," I lie.

"Really?"  He turns around and I kick his leg out from under him, freeing my
body from his weight.  "Vig, that's playing dirty!" he shrieks as he falls
onto the mattress.  "That's *so* not fair."

"When have I ever played fair?" I ask with a grin.

"Mmm, never," he says, drawing me down for a kiss.  When we pull apart, he
smiles at me.  "You may be a poodle-hater, but I love you all the same."

"I love you too, my crazy Orli."


2. (Orli's POV)

I'm extremely proud of myself. I drove to the grocery store and back without
ending up on the wrong side of the road once! My first time driving in the
States was a complete success, and I even managed not to get lost or confused.
So it's with a newfound sense of accomplishment that I walk into the house
and put the groceries away.

"Viggo?" I call when I've finished unpacking the groceries. "I'm back and I
didn't wreck your car!"

The sound of his footsteps is the only warning I get before he runs into the
kitchen and grabs my arm, spinning me around to face him. My yelp of surprise
is muffled by his mouth crashing down on mine, kissing me senseless as his
tongue slides past my lips. I groan and wiggle against him as I feel his cock
straining against the material of his jeans. He's hard, and I'm not far
behind.

I hear my zipper being undone, and then Viggo's hands push down my pants and
boxers just enough to pull out my semi-hard cock. Without any pretense, he
drops to his knees and takes me into his mouth, engulfing my cock in wet heat.
"Fuck!" I cry, reaching down to put my hands on his head so I won't fall over.
What the hell has gotten into Viggo? Not that I'm complaining or anything.

His mouth pulls back, teeth scraping gently along the length of my erection
and causing shivers to run through my body. Then he takes me deep again and
swallows around me; I'm unable to stop myself from bucking my hips, but Viggo
doesn't miss a beat and continues sucking me into oblivion. The entire world
seems to have shrunk to my cock and his mouth, and that's just fine with me.

Now Viggo is slowing his movements, teasing me as he retreats, his tongue
swirling maddeningly around the head of my cock. Damnit, he knows I need more
than this. His hooded eyes look up at me, daring me to let go. Well, if he
insists . . .

I begin thrusting into his mouth, losing myself in the heat and suction that
surrounds my cock. He doesn't falter once as he allows me to fuck his mouth,
and manages to lick around my cock as it moves in and out. When I look in his
eyes, I find them staring back at me intensely and I'm undone by the intimacy
in his gaze. With a moan and a wail, I thrust one last time and come in his
mouth, whimpering as he swallows around my softening cock in an effort to milk
every drop from me.

My knees buckle as he pulls away, and I stumble back against the counter in
an effort to steady myself. As my pulse returns to normal, I start to pull up
my pants but the feeling of Viggo's hand closing around my wrist stops me.
When I look at him, I remember that while he just gave me an exceptional
blow-job, he still hasn't had his own release. Since I'm a big believer in
reciprocation, I remove my hands and allow him to pull off my shoes, pants, and
boxers.

He stands up and takes off his shirt, while I do the same with mine. His
hands grab my arse and pull me flush against his body, and I bite my lip at the
feeling of his denim-clad erection pressing against me. "I'm going to fuck
you, Orlando," he says in a husky voice. A shiver runs through me at his
words,
realizing that Viggo is in full hard-and-fast-with-dirty-talk mode.

"Oh, God," I whisper.

"I want to bury myself in that tight little ass of yours and hear you moan my
name." His tongue traces the shell of my ear and I bite back a whimper. "I
want to fuck you so hard that you can feel me in every inch of your body."
Sweet Jesus. "I want to prove that you're *mine*."

My eyes flutter closed for a second, and then I give him my best sultry gaze.
"I'm yours, Viggo. I'm always yours." I unzip his pants and pull his cock
out, happily surprised that he's not wearing skivvies. That's my boy. "You
were planning this, weren't you?"

"Yes." Viggo pulls away briefly to remove his jeans. "All I could think
about when you were gone was how good it feels to be trapped inside of you, how
hot and tight you are. How much I love it when you scream from the feeling of
being impaled by my cock." Shit, he's gonna make me come before this even
*starts* if he keeps talking like that.

"Then do it," I challenge, pressing myself up against his body and relishing
the feeling of his dripping cock coming into contact with my newly aroused
one. I give him a wicked grin. "Fuck me until I can feel your cock in my
throat."

Viggo's pupils dilate from my words, and then he's kissing me again, stealing
the breath from my body. I can taste traces of myself on his tongue and I
moan, reaching around so I can grip his firm arse and grind against him.
Finally, I've had enough of the foreplay and break the kiss. I turn around and
brace my hands on the counter, leaning forward and spreading my legs so my body
is
completely open to him.

Looking over my shoulder, I can see that Viggo is just standing there,
stroking his cock. I shake my arse and say, "What are you waiting for? Get on
with
it, old man." He shoots me a positively devious grin and then quickly opens
a cabinet and pulls out a small bottle of something. "What is that?"

"You'll see." He pours some brown liquid onto his fingers before warming it
in his hands and spreading it on his cock. Before I can ask him again what
the makeshift lubrication is, he places the bottle on the counter in front of
me.

"Vanilla extract?" I squeak in disbelief.

"Trust me," he rasps, his breath shockingly close to my ear as he drapes his
body over mine. I moan loudly at the feeling of two fingers entering me,
their path indeed made easier by the slippery vanilla. "God, Orli, you're
still
so open from this morning," he marvels. His fingers curl and push against my
prostate, making me gasp and push my hips back against him.

"Need more," I plead. He pulls his fingers out of me and slides his cock
along the cleft of my arse.

"What do you need, love?" he asks, and a brief shiver runs through me at the
term of endearment.

"I need you inside of me, Vig. I need you to fuck me *now*," I tell him,
spreading my legs wider so he'll understand my urgency.

Viggo complies with my request and penetrates me with one quick thrust.
Christ, he always feels *so* good inside of me no matter how many times we've
done
this. His cock fills me perfectly and hits exactly the spots I need it to,
and I'm gripping the edge of the counter so tightly that my knuckles are white.
The rhythm he sets is relentless, his hands on my hips as he angles his
shallow thrusts to jab at my prostate.

He leans down so that he can kiss my back, his teeth dragging lightly along
my shoulder. "Is this what you wanted?" he grunts, punctuating his statement
with a deliciously brutal thrust. "To be turned inside out by having my hard
cock fucking your sweet ass?" One of his hands reaches around to grasp my
erection. "You're so hard right now," he gasps.

"It's because of you, Viggo," I moan, pushing my cock forward into his palm,
which is still slippery from the vanilla. "I love it when you -- ah!" I cry
out as his thumb flicks over the head of my erection at the same time that his
cock hits my prostate. "I love it when you fuck my brains out." Which is
precisely what he's doing. It's pretty much impossible to use any organ above
my waist right now, and I move purely on instinct as I thrust into the tunnel
of his hand and then screw myself back against his hard cock.

I'm gasping, Viggo's moaning, and we're both close; every nerve in my body is
supercharged with pleasure and anticipation. It's one of those times where I
want to come so badly and yet I don't want this to end. After a few more
thrusts, Viggo comes inside of me with a ragged groan, his fingers digging into
my hips hard enough to leave a small crescent of bruises.

When he slips out of me and removes his hand from my cock, I mewl in
dissatisfaction. I want some relief and I want it *now*! Viggo kneels down
behind me
and when his hot breath wafts against my opening, it takes all of my
willpower not to come right then. The torturously slick sensation of his
tongue
demanding and receiving entry to my body makes me half-sigh, half-wail my
appreciation. While his tongue delves into me as deeply as possible, one of
his hands
comes up to gently fondle my balls and I finally come, screaming his name in
the process.

My body is still trembling as Viggo stands up and eases me back into his arms
for a gentle embrace. I turn around and bury my head in the crook of his
neck for a moment before lifting my mouth to his for a kiss. The taste of
vanilla mixes with that of Viggo's come, and I'm still a bit shocked that he
rimmed
me after sex -- he's never done that before.

"That was . . . wow," I murmur when he pulls away.

He chuckles and walks to grab a paper towel and some cleaning fluid. I blush
when I notice the stain on the face of the counter that he needs to erase,
causing him to laugh again. Once everything is suitably cleaned and the paper
towel disposed of, Viggo draws me in for another kiss. This one is more
intense, his tongue probing my mouth insistently.

"Christ, Vig," I gasp as he lowers his lips to my neck. "Did someone spike
your herbal tea or something? What's gotten into you?"

"You, hopefully," he says, his fingers brushing over my nipples. "I want you
inside of me, Orli."

"You can't be serious," I laugh. "After all that, you still need more?"

Viggo lifts his head from my neck and gives me a tender look. "I always need
more of you."

I smile and touch my forehead to his. "Le aniron, filthy human."

He grabs my hand and runs to the bedroom, pulling me along with him. We're
both laughing by the time we tumble onto the bed, our limbs tangling as we
play-wrestle until I pin him down and kiss him soundly. I'm beyond caring why
Viggo's so worked up, and decide to just hang on for the ride (no pun intended).

The lube is right where we left it this morning and Viggo applies some to my
cock, quickly bringing me to full hardness. I grin at the sight of him lying
back and spreading his legs in blatant invitation, his cock erect and his
mouth curled into a wicked smile. He has no concept of how hot he is. When I
move to coat my fingers with lube, he shakes his head and yanks the tube away.

"Just do it, Orli."

"Are you channeling a Nike commercial?" I ask him with a grin.

"No, I need you to fuck me," he says.

"Okay, then." I lift his legs onto my shoulders and push into him slowly,
the lack of preparation making him tighter than usual. Viggo moans when I'm
all
the way inside of him, his mouth falling open and his eyes tightly shut.
"God, you feel so good," I breathe, my hands securely on his hips as I begin to
thrust slowly in and out of him.

"More," he begs, trying to push himself down on my cock.

"You're shameless," I gasp.

"I can't help it," he tells me. When I brush over his prostate, he cries my
name and bucks his hips. Loving his responsiveness, my hands slide around to
cup his arse and tilt his body a tiny bit, changing my angle so I can hit that
spot over and over. The sound of his moans and gasps fill the room, and I
begin thrusting harder.

"Touch yourself," I command. Viggo doesn't hesitate to wrap a hand around
his leaking cock and stroke it firmly. His rhythm is similar to mine, but his
hand falters every time I deliver a particularly powerful thrust. "You're so
fucking sexy like this, Vig," I pant, feeling my control beginning to slip.
"All hard and needy, letting me fuck your arse and moaning for more."

"Fuck . . . Orlando!" he cries. Our movements are erratic, my thrusts uneven
while his hand moves jerkily on his cock. Neither of us is going to last
much longer.

"Come for me, Viggo. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you."

"Orli!" he yells as his orgasm overcomes him. "Oh, God!"

The sight of his face awash in ecstasy while he comes is incredible, and when
his muscles clench around me, I can't hold back anymore. My climax hits me
hard as I come in his arse, shuddering and sighing my release. His legs fall
from my shoulders and I slide bonelessly on top of him.

After a few minutes, Viggo grunts and tries to shift his weight. "You're
crushing me, elf boy." I laugh tiredly and roll off of him, lying on my back
and
looking up at the ceiling. "What time is it?" he asks.

I glance at the clock on the nightstand. "Almost three." I prop myself up
on my elbow, grinning as I look down at his content face. "So what was all
that about? We've already had sex three times today, not to mention twice
yesterday. Not that I have a problem with that, but it's still a bit curious.
May
I ask why you're so bloody horny?"

He smiles sadly. "You're leaving for England the day after tomorrow, and
then I won't see you for a whole month."

"So you're stocking up on sex before I go? Like squirrels preparing for
winter?"

"That's an odd analogy," he chuckles. "But I guess so."

"I'm not leaving until Sunday morning, you know."

"I know." He leans up to kiss me. "I'm just going to miss you so much,
Orli."

"Listen, there's about forty-four hours before I get on a plane. Let's just
spend every second together and not think about the fact that we're going to
be apart."

Viggo sighs. "Yeah, you're right. I'm being a bit over-dramatic, aren't I?"

"Not really. I'm going to miss you, too." I pause. "You know, our record
for sex is seven times in one day. Care to break that?"

He grins. "I think we should give it a shot."

"Well, we both need a shower after our recent exertions," I remark.

"Definitely," he agrees.

"And maybe later you'll wear the cowboy hat," I say hopefully.

Viggo laughs and kisses me again. "Sounds like a plan."


3. (Viggo's POV)

"Hello?"

"Vig?"

"Orli, what's wrong?"  I can tell he's upset even from thousands of miles
away by the way his voice is all quiet and unsure.  Not to mention that it's two
in the morning in England right now, which usually isn't the time for a quick
'how are you?' call.  "Are you okay?"

"Yes.  Well, I don't know."

"What's the matter, love?"

"It's just . . . fuck, it's silly."

"I'm sure it's not silly," I assure him.  "Now what is it?"

Orli sighs.  "I miss you.  I really miss you."

"That's not silly at all.  I miss you, too."

"You do?"

"Of course I do.  You know how important you are to me, and I hate that
you're not here.  But you'll be back here in ten days, and then you're not going
anywhere until May."

"Yeah, but you don't understand, Vig."

"What don't I understand?"

"You're everywhere!  Every time I turn on the telly, there's another advert
for the movie with all these images of you -- kissing Liv, fleeing Orcs, and so
on.  You're in the bloody paper, the magazines . . ."  He sighs again.  "I'll
see you on the telly and I just want to start kissing the screen."

I smile sadly.  "Oh, Orli."

"So that's why I'm calling you at two in the morning, on the verge of tears. 
Fuck, I'm *such* a girl."

"If your sister ever caught you saying that, she'd kick your ass," I tell him
with a chuckle.

"Yeah, I know."

"Look, maybe you should just get some sleep.  You'll feel better in the
morning."

"I'd rather talk to you.  Are you busy?"

"I'm never too busy for you," I say, suddenly missing him even more than
usual.  "What do you want to talk about?"

"Anything.  Tell me about your day."

"Well, it was beautiful and sunny today, so Henry and I went for a walk on
the beach before going to the seafood place he really likes for lunch.  Then I
took him shopping for some CDs and we ran some errands.  Just a normal Saturday
afternoon, really."

"God, it's freezing here.  A walk on the beach sounds so wonderful."

"We'll do it when you get back," I promise.

"What are you doing now?"

"Cooking dinner.  Spaghetti with homemade sauce and garlic bread."

"Yummy."

I laugh.  "And what about your day?"

"Um, I woke up, I phoned my mum like every Saturday morning, I went for a
quick walk with Maude, I hung around the flat and attempted to clean up, and then
I went to the movies."

"What'd you see?"  He mumbles something and I grin.  "What was that?"

"'The Fellowship of the Ring'," he says in an annoyed voice.  "I miss you,
and it was better than not seeing you at all.  Not to mention that every time I
see certain scenes, I have all these great memories of being in New Zealand
with you."

"How many times have you seen it in the theater now?  Not counting the
premieres."

"Seven."  I know he's blushing.  "Thank God most people don't recognize me
without the wig and ears, because that could be somewhat embarrassing.  Of
course, now that you've gone and given yourself a bloody buzz cut, most people
probably won't realize that you're Aragorn.  I still can't believe that you got
rid of all your hair."

"I thought you liked it."

"You look sexy as hell no matter what.  It's just that after two years, I was
used to that lovely long hair that I could grab onto during sex.  Now there's
only fuzz, and it'll take me a while to get used to.  Also, you did it after
I left and I learned about it from *Lij*, who was totally freaked out by the
concept of a short-haired Viggo."

"A short-haired Viggo?  That sounds like a type of dog.  Besides, my hair is
growing in now; there's more than fuzz."

"What I can't get over is that you did the buzz cut because Henry mentioned
offhand that he thought you'd look cool with one."

"Listen, my son is getting to the age where parents are terminally uncool, so
anything I can do to stay cool in his eyes is worth it."

"So if he told you that it was cool to jump off of a cliff, you'd do it?" he
asks.

I roll my eyes.  "I don't exactly think that someone who jumps off of bridges
with a rubber band around his ankles should be asking that question."

"Bugger off."

"I can't do that if you're not here," I laugh.  "And keep in mind that if
Henry hadn't told me that Strider was a cool character, I never would have flown
to New Zealand and met you."

"Okay, you have a point."

"Also, why am I taking advice about hair care from someone who used to have a
mohawk?"

"Leave the mohawk alone!"

"Would you rather discuss the fact that you use women's shampoo and
conditioner?"

"Hey, it keeps my hair shiny, soft, and smelling nice.  Why shouldn't I use
it?"

"Because when you get out of the shower, your hair smells like rose petals,"
I chuckle.

"You never complain about that when you bury your nose in my curls and kiss
the top of my head," Orli points out.

"That's because I'll take every opportunity I can get to kiss you, even if
your use of scented conditioner makes Legolas look like Arnold Schwarzenegger."

"Filthy human.  You have no concept of grooming," he says with affected
loftiness.

"You wound me, Orlando."

We both laugh.  "So what time is it there?"

"About 6:15.  Dinner's on the stove and Henry's playing video games."

"What are your plans for tonight?"

"Probably just leafing through some scripts my agent sent me.  Apparently my
stock has risen since playing Aragorn."

"Of course it has, you git."

"Yeah, well I'm not in a rush to do another movie unless something really
catches my eye."

"Whereas I'm hopping all over the globe to make movies."

"But that's what you love to do," I remind him.

"Not if it keeps us apart."

"Orli, this is what we do for a living.  Unfortunately, it puts physical
distance between us and that's not easy, but it's how life is in this business.  I
don't resent the fact that you're taking on projects all over the place
because I know how much acting means to you; I know that passion firsthand.  As
long as the distance between us is physical and not emotional, we'll find a way
to deal with it."

"Yeah, I know you're right.  But that doesn't change how much I miss you." 
He sighs.  "Only ten more days to go until I'm home again."

"So L.A. is home to you now?"

"No, *you're* home to me.  That may sound twee as all hell, but it's true."

"Don't worry about sounding 'twee', because I feel the same way."

"Hey, when I get back will you show me the photos from the gallery opening? 
I want to see the one of you and Dom."

"Ah, the infamous tongues photo," I say with a smile.

"Yes, *that* one.  Why on earth did you feel compelled to go along with his
demented idea?  God only knows where Dom's tongue has been."

"At least you know where my tongue has been."

"Viggo, please don't get me all horny.  If I start wanking, I'll wake Maude."

I chuckle.  "Well, Henry's liable to come in at any moment so I'll keep the
conversation clean."

"If I call you tomorrow, can we have a not-so-clean conversation?  I have a
great scenario planned for long-distance shagging."

"And what would that be?"

"I'm not telling.  I want it to be a surprise."

"You're nothing but a tease, Orlando Bloom."

"That I am.  But I'm worth it."  He yawns loudly and I smile.  "Sorry."

"Love, maybe you should go to sleep."

"Yeah, I should," he agrees.

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Sounds good.  I miss you, Vig."

"I miss you too, Orli.  I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

"Sweet dreams, baby."

"I'm going to dream about being with you.  About being home."

"That's what I'll dream about tonight, too."

"Good night, Viggo."

"Good night, Orli."

TITLE: Some Kind of Heaven (4/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: PG (just one tiny swear word)
SUMMARY: Regarding Henry (Orli's POV)
FEEDBACK: It's the highlights in my hairdo, the extra arms on Vishnu
WARNINGS: None
DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination
ARCHIVE: BTF, LBES, Lothlorien, my site; all others please ask, but I'll
surely say yes
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I am an unabashed Disneyland freak, so much so that despite
living 3000 miles away, I've been there 21 times (and I'm not even 22 years
old).  As you can imagine, I've been dying to put this chapter into The Viggorli
Chronicles for ages

"I can't believe your dad let you skip school to go to Disneyland."

Henry shrugs.  "Well, I haven't missed a single day since the school year
began, so I guess he figures I've earned it or something.  Besides, he knows that
this is, like, a bonding experience for us."

"A bonding experience?" I say with mock horror.  "If I had known that there
would be bonding, I never would have agreed to this."

"Oh, shut up," he laughs.

"You know, I thought that we had already bonded quite nicely.  After all,
I've known you for two years."

"Yeah, but we haven't done anything just the two of us since before the
breakup.  We need to re-bond," he tells me as we get off of the near-empty tram and
walk up to the main gate.  "After all, I had kind of given up hope that I was
ever gonna really hang out with you again."

I cringe.  "Sorry about that, mate."

"No problem, *mate*."  Henry loves to tease me whenever I use my Brit-speak. 
"The important thing is that you're back together and I get to drag you to a
theme park today."

"Indeed."  I pull out my wallet so I can pay the entrance fee, but Henry
stops me.  "What?"

"It's my treat," he says, pulling some bills out of his jeans pocket.  "I've
been saving my allowance for this."

"Are you serious?"  This kid is too much sometimes.  "Henry, it's almost
seventy dollars for both of us."

"Yeah, I know."  He hands the money to the cashier and we get our tickets. 
"Look, it's something I wanted to do.  Just enjoy yourself and pay for whatever
snacks we get and then we'll call it even, okay?"

I ruffle his shock of blue hair, making him stick his tongue out at me. 
"Okay.  Thank you."

"You're welcome.  Now where do you wanna go first?"

*****

"Okay, am I dreaming or did a life-size Minnie Mouse just walk by?"

"You're not dreaming," Henry giggles.  "There are life-size Disney characters
walking by all the time."

"This is extremely bizarre," I observe as we go to stand on line for the
Matterhorn roller coaster.  "Was Walt Disney high when he thought up this place?"

"I somehow doubt that.  Besides, it's just an alternate universe like 'Lord
of the Rings'.  You might as well say that Tolkien was sniffing glue when he
wrote the book."

"Well, he *did* write about pipeweed.  Whatever that was."  Henry laughs. 
"Okay, so tell me about this roller coaster.  It goes through the little
mountain thing?"

"Yeah.  It's not really scary, but it's fun as all hell.  It's Exene's
favorite ride."

"Can I ask how many times you've been here?"

Henry thinks for a moment.  "Sixteen.  I go every year for my birthday, and
then once in a while we go just for the hell of it."

"And you don't get tired of it?"

"Never.  It's always different for me each time.  Like the last time we were
here, I gave Donald Duck the finger just for the hell of it and then yodeled
when we got to the Switzerland part of the It's a Small World ride."

I stare at him.  "You're a very strange child."

*****

The Matterhorn *is* scary -- at least it is to me.  Henry neglected to tell
me that halfway through, a Yetti-like creature roars as you come around the
bend and its eyes glow red.  I shrieked so pathetically that I made Billy sound
like a contra-bass.  Afterwards, we go on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride (which really
isn't that wild), and then to the Spinning Teacups, which is a lot of fun.  It's
like being drunk in a world where everything is pastel.

Henry is whooping with excitement as we exit our baby blue teacup, and skips
over to a cotton candy stand.  "Can I get this for breakfast?"

"You already had breakfast."

"I've had one, yes.  What about--"

"Second breakfast?" I interrupt with a roll of my eyes.  "Sure, you can have
cotton candy for second breakfast."

"That's five dollars," the vendor tells me, and I raise my eyebrows as I hand
her the money.  Five dollars for pink sugar?  "Hey, isn't that second
breakfast thing from 'The Lord of the Rings'?"

"Yup," Henry says with a grin as he takes his cotton candy.  "The coolest
movie ever.  Aragorn rocked, but Legolas really annoyed me."  I kick his shin and
he glares at me.

"The elf?  I thought he was cute."

I thank the vendor for the cotton candy and drag Henry away before he
explodes into a fit of giggles.  "She thinks you're cute," he says in a sing-song
voice.

"She thinks *Legolas* is cute," I correct him.  "She didn't recognize me at
all.  And what was that business about Legolas annoying you?"

"'We must move on.  We cannot linger'," Henry recites.  "No shit?  You mean
we *shouldn't* stand here and wait to be slaughtered by orcs?  Wow, thanks for
bringing that to our attention, Legolas!"

"Thank you for that wonderful assessment of my character," I say dryly.

"Hey, it's not *your* fault.  It's just that every time Legolas spoke, I
wanted to say, 'well *duh*.'"

"Remind me why I just spent five bucks to buy you cotton candy?"

"Because I'm utterly adorable and no one can say no to me."  He gives me an
impish smile.

"Sorry, kid.  That's *my* line."

*****

"So this is Tomorrowland?" I ask as I look around.

"Yeah.  Disneyland was built in the fifties, so their concept of the future
was kind of campy.  You know, it was in that era when people thought we'd
colonize the moon by the year 2000 and we'd engineer ferrets to serve us."

"Ferrets?"

Henry laughs.  "Something like that.  Anyway, the place to go to in this land
is Space Mountain.  It's the best coaster in the park, at least in terms of
speed.  And it's good that we're here on a Thursday, cuz the line shouldn't be
that long."

Henry must have jinxed it because the line is fairly long and we get stuck
watching the bizarre 'futuristic' news station that plays on the TVs overlooking
us.  "Okay, this sucks," I proclaim after half an hour.

"I think we're almost there."

"You've already said that twice."

"I'm *positive* that it's around this corner, Orli."

"Wanna bet that it's not?"

"Sure.  What are the stakes?"

"Hmm."  I think for a few seconds.  "Well, if you're wrong, you can never
make fun of Legolas again."

"And if I'm right, you have to buy those mouse ears and get your picture
taken with Mickey Mouse."

"Deal."  After all, I'm convinced that it's not around this corner.  Good,
now we're moving, we're walking, and . . . shit.  I have to wear the bloody
mouse ears and pose with Mickey because we've reached the actual ride.  And Henry
is cracking up.  "You'll get yours, Henry Mortensen," I warn.

"Uh-huh, sure."  We settle in for the ride, and right before it starts, Henry
taps my shoulder.  "Having fun?"

I smile at him.  "I'm having an insane amount of fun."

His face lights up at my words.  "Good."

*****

"I can't believe how idiotic I feel," I grouse as Henry adjusts my mouse ears
hat.  Although I have to admit, this is kind of cute in a kitschy way.

"Hey, you lost fair and square.  Nothing you can do about it now except pose
with a giant rodent wearing a bow tie."

We locate a giant Mickey Mouse and I paste a cheesy smile on my face and wave
to the camera.  I might as well go all-out, so I have Henry snap a picture of
me hugging Mickey.  We then decide that lunch is in order, so we stop to grab
some popcorn and Diet Coke -- today isn't a day for three balanced meals.

"Where to next, o scholar of Disneyland?"

Henry grins.  "Um, we have a few choices.  We could go back to Fantasyland
and check out some more rides there.  Then there are coasters in Frontierland,
and New Orleans Square has some neat stuff."

"I defer to your judgment."

"Then I say we go to Splash Mountain.  It's got an awesome drop at the end,
plus it's a water ride."

"Sounds good."

We walk and talk and munch on popcorn.  Henry talks about an anime series he
likes, his mum's upcoming tour, and his efforts to learn Spanish so he can
argue with Viggo in two languages.  I talk about the latest movies I've seen, my
plans to go surfing with Dom and Lij next week, and how strange it is to
receive fan mail.  He teases me about my wardrobe selections and technophobia, I
tease him about his taste in music and ever-changing hair-color.  It's easy,
it's comfortable.

I realize for the first time that while I came close to losing what I had
with Viggo, I also almost lost my friendship with Henry.  After all, who would
want to hang out with their dad's ex-boyfriend, no matter how cool he is?  As he
chatters away about how excited he is for the next 'Star Wars' movie, I can't
help but smile.  I'm so lucky to have this wonderful kid in my life.

"Whatcha thinking about?" he asks as we approach the next ride.

"Nothing much."  I smile at him.  "Thank you for taking me here today, Henry.
 It means a lot to me."

He smiles.  "I'm glad you came with me.  It means a lot to me, too."

*****

After Splash Mountain and Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, we go on the Indiana
Jones ride, It's a Small World, and back to Space Mountain for another trip. 
The Haunted House is a lot of fun, and now we're floating through the very
cool Pirates of the Caribbean.  It's amazing how intricate the ride is, with all
these mechanical pirates firing fake cannons and chasing around tavern
wenches.  This seems to be one of the rides that's randomly here even though there's
no movie associated with it.

When the ride ends, we get sandwiches and soda in one of the New Orleans
Square 'bistros' and sit down at an outdoor table.  It's a Thursday in early
March, so it's not very crowded; in fact, the only other people sitting ath the
outdoor cafe are an elderly couple wearing matching Goofy tee-shirts.  For
dessert, we buy frozen bananas and wander around for a while.  We ride the
Matterhorn again and then decide to do some shopping on Main Street.

"You know what would be really cool?" Henry says.

"What?"  We're strolling leisurely down the street under a canopy of
darkening sky.  It's after eight now, and we'll only be here for another hour or so.

"A 'Lord of the Rings' theme park."

"Yeah?"  Actually, that does sound neat.  "What would it be like?"

"Well, you could have different sections, like Mirkwood, and Hobbiton, and
Rohan, and so on.  And there would be awesome rides."

"Such as?"

"Well, you could do a freefall based on Gandalf's fall in Moria, or ride
along with Glorfindel -- or Arwen, if you're going by the movie -- as Frodo is
taken to Rivendell just ahead of the Nazgul."

"There could be an interactive Fangorn Forest," I suggest.

"Exactly!  Or a crumbling staircase ride, sort of like what happens in
Moria."

"A light show every night based on Gandalf's fireworks."

"Use virtual reality to ride on an eagle like Gandalf when he escapes from
Orthanc.  Or maybe a water ride based on traveling down the Anduin."

"You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you?" I ask with a smile.

"Yeah.  I just like the idea.  I mean, if you had restaurants, you could
rename soda and juice 'Gaffer's home brew' and 'Ent draught', and all sandwiches
could be served on lembas bread."

"Okay, say that there was a 'Lord of the Rings' theme park -- would you
rather go there or to Disneyland on your birthday?"

Henry grins.  "I'd probably still go here."

*****

The trunk of Viggo's car is now stuffed with keepsakes of the trip to
Disneyland.  I felt compelled to buy gifts for each member of the Fellowship; the
hobbits each get Disneyland shot glasses, Bean gets a CD of Disney songs for if
he's ever in the car with Evie and she wants music, John gets miniature
(translation: Dwarf-sized) Donald and Daisy Duck dolls, and Ian gets Disneyland jelly
beans so he can indulge his sweet tooth.  I also got presents for Atti, Mum,
and Sam, plus I bought Henry a Disney photo album so he has a place to put all
the pictures we took today.

As we get onto the Freeway, Henry fiddles with the radio before finding the
station he likes and leaning back in his seat.  "This okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

I look at his face as the shadows flit over it.  "Thank you for today, Henry.
 It was wonderful."

"You're welcome."

"So what are your plans for the weekend?"

"Well, I'm going to a birthday party for one of my friends on Saturday
night."

"Will Jemila be there?" I tease.

"I never should have told you I have a crush on someone," he says with a
shake of his head.  "And yes, she'll be there, probably looking absolutely
perfect."

"Ah, to be thirteen again."

"You're only twenty-five," Henry reminds me.

"Yeah, but I remember being at the age when nothing seemed to matter but
girls."

"Girls?"  He looks at me curiously.  "You used to have girlfriends?"

"Yeah, I did."

"I didn't know that.  You were straight when you were younger?"

I chuckle.  "Yes, I was.  Or I was in complete denial."

"So what happened?"

"I met your dad."  Henry laughs.  "He was brilliant, funny, kind . . . he
actually cared about what I had to say.  And suddenly things like gender didn't
seem important because I fell in love with who he was."

"You kind of turned your world upside down for him, huh?"

"Yes, but in the best way."

Henry's quiet for a few minutes, then he turns down the radio and shifts in
his seat so he's looking at me.  "You know, there's a reason I've been wanting
to take you to Disneyland for a while now.  It's not just because I thought
you should experience the joys of Splash Mountain and Pirates of the Caribbean."

"Then what *is* the reason?"

"Disneyland is special to me.  I can't explain why, but I just love it there.
 The only people I've ever been there with are Dad and Exene; I've never gone
there with any of my friends, not even for my birthday."

"Why make an exception for me?" I ask softly.

"Because you've become a part of my family.  I kind of wanted to make it
official in my mind, so I thought that going to Disneyland with you would be
perfect.  I'd be sharing something that means a lot to me with you.  You're not a
parent, but you're way more than a friend.  I can't define exactly what you are
to me, but you're special.  And I love you.  That's why I took you today."

"Henry . . . I love you, too."

What an amazing kid.

*****

"Did you have a good time?"  Viggo hugs both of us as we walk through the
front door.  "Was it worth missing school?"

"Of course it was," Henry says, stifling a yawn.

"Tired?"

"A little."

"Before I forget, Exene called; she wants you to call her back."

"Okay.  Then I'll say goodnight now, cuz after that I'll probably just fall
into bed."

Henry says his goodnights and then goes to his room.  "So did you enjoy
yourself?" Viggo asks as I fetch a beer out of the fridge.

"It was wonderful, Vig.  Really, I had a great time; we both did."

"I'm glad."  He kisses me as I sit down next to him at the table.  "What was
your favorite part?"

"Honestly?  Just spending time with Henry."

"Yeah?"  Viggo's smile is wide, and it's obvious how happy he is that his son
and I are close.  "That's great."

"We had a terrific time together, as usual.  And I ended up getting gifts for
pretty much everyone I know.  Those gift shops are addictive."

He laughs.  "What about me?  Do I get anything?"

I kiss him briefly on the lips.  "You mean besides me?"  Viggo chuckles. 
"Yes, you get something."  I walk over to where the shopping bags are and pull
out photographs of me and Henry, the kind that you take in those do-it-yourself
photo booths.  "Here you go.  It's from both of us."

Viggo smiles as he looks at the pictures.  "Thank you."

"You're welcome."  I finish my beer and put the bottle in the recycling bin. 
"I'm going to get ready for bed.  I'm exhausted."

"I'll be there in a minute," he says, still grinning.

"Okay."  I pause.  "You know, Henry really is one of the most special people
I've ever met."

"I may be a bit biased, but I'd have to agree with you."

"Of course," I say with a grin, "his dad is pretty great, too."


TITLE: Some Kind of Heaven (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: Dinner with friends (Viggo's POV)
WARNINGS: None
DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination
ARCHIVE: BTF, LBES, Lothlorien, my site; all others please ask, but I'll
surely say yes

"Please!"

"No."

"But Viggo!"  Orli manages to drag my name out so that it takes several
seconds to say each syllable.  "I really want you to come!"

"I already told you that I'm not going.  I hate these things."

"It's the bloody Screen Actors Guild Awards!  It's a big deal, man!"  His
arms are flailing as he tries using gesticulations to explain just how major an
event this is.  "Everyone's going to be there, and you know that Ian's gonna
win.  Why don't you want to go?"

"Orli, it's not my scene," I tell him patiently.  We've been having this
back-and-forth debate for about three days now, and I refuse to budge an inch. 
"I'd have to get dressed up, and you know that I don't even *own* a tie.  Not to
mention that half the night will be spent watching people I've never met win
awards I don't care about."

"You're no fun, Viggo Mortensen," he huffs.  "This is a big deal and I want
you to be there with me."

"We spend so much time together already.  What difference will three or four
hours spent apart make?"

"That's not the point."

"Look, I'll watch them on TV so I can see Ian get his award if he wins it,
but I really don't want to go.  And as for seeing our friends, I'd rather do
that by having them over for dinner instead of seeing them in a crowded theater."

"I don't know."  He's beginning to waver, I can see it in his eyes.

"We'll invite the whole Fellowship.  And I'll make that vegetarian chili that
you love so much."

"Don't think you can bribe me," he says weakly.

"I'll give you a backrub every night this week."

"Fine.  I won't make you go -- but I'm holding you to your promises.  Plus,
you owe me a blow job."

"Why?"

"Because I say so."

I shrug.  "Okay."

*****

"What up, bitch?" Lij asks as he walks through our front door.

"Don't call me bitch, cunt," Orli retorts.

"Don't call me cunt, asshole."

"Don't call me asshole, wanker!"

"Don't call me wanker, pretty boy!"

"Viggo!  He called me a pretty boy!" Orli yells indignantly.  "I need you to
defend my honor!"

"Love, I think you can handle Lij," I tell him with a roll of my eyes.  A
round of snickering is heard from our friends.

"Wait a second, what do you mean Orli can 'handle' me?" Lij asks.  I could
take that elf down any day of the week."

"Wanna bet?" Orli taunts.

"You know it!  I challenge you to a duel!"

"A duel?" Ian laughs.

"Okay, a fight," Lij amends.  "I challenge you to a fight, pretty boy!"

"Viggo!" Orli howls.  "Make him stop!"

"But you *are* a pretty boy," I say soothingly, kissing his cheek.  "A very
pretty boy."

"You're not helping me, Vig," he pouts.  "You're being a terrible boyfriend."

"Oh, stop it," Bean chuckles.

"Yeah, Viggo's the ideal boyfriend," Billy says.  "*I* want to date him, and
I'm straight."

"Excuse me?" I laugh.

"Don't even think of trying to steal him away," Orli warns, wrapping a
possessive arm around me.  "Because I *will* kill you.  I'll strangle you with your
own kilt."

"Death by kilting?" Dom laughs.  "That'd be interesting."

"Orli, you're not a homicidal maniac," John reminds him.

"I could become one if William Boyd threatened our relationship," Orli
growls. (Yes, he actually growls.)

"I think he's just a bit narked at you, Bill," Dom observed.

"Will it calm you down if I tell you that Billy's not my type?" I ask Orli.

"Oi!  I'm everyone's type!" Billy yelps.  "Who doesn't want a tiny Scotsman
in their bed?"

Before the conversation can get even more bizarre, the kitchen timer
mercifully beeps, signaling that dinner is ready.

*****

"So why aren't you going to the SAG Awards?" Sean asks as we all sit around
the living room with bowls of chili and slices of homemade bread.

"Yeah Viggo, don't you love us?" Lij teases.

"Very much, but there are limits," I tell them.  "I hate those kinds of
things.  Plus, I don't exactly have the right wardrobe."

"He doesn't have any ties," Orli says, almost conspiratorially.  "His idea of
getting dressed up is putting on shoes."

"What, he's supposed to be taking fashion tips from you?" John laughs.

"Viggo, have you ever even *worn* a suit and tie?" Bean asks.

"Three times," I say.  "And I've never worn a tuxedo."

"Never?  What about your prom?" Sean questions.

"I didn't go."

"What about your wedding?"

I laugh.  "Do you really think Exene and I had a tux-and-gown wedding with
all the trimmings?  A broke actor/artist and a punk singer?  No, there weren't
any tuxes then, either."

"Hey, I just had a thought," Lij says.  "Say that the earth is overrun by
bloodthirsty wombats who start to lord over the humans.  They become intrigued by
cloning and make a duplicate of Viggo.  Orli would know which one was the
real Viggo and which was the wombat-cloned Viggo by asking them both to put on a
tux.  The real Viggo wouldn't do it, and Orli could kill the evil
wombat-cloned one!"

We all stare at him for a second.  "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Orli asks.

"Wombats!" Lij exclaims.  "Evil wombats . . . oh, never mind."

"Anyway," Ian says after a long pause.  "The weather was nice today."

"I'm telling you all," Lij mutters, "wombats will rule the earth."

*****

"Thanks for dinner," Sean says as he hugs me out in the driveway.  "I wish
you could be there tomorrow, but I understand why you're skipping it.  That
scene can get somewhat tiresome after a while."

"It sure can.  Will you say hi to Christine and Allie for me?"

"Of course."

Sean gets in his car and drives away, leaving only Lij and Dom, who are
standing at the other end of the driveway, talking to Orli.  Bean is with them, but
he's staying here tonight since it's cheaper than a hotel.  Plus, he's a big
fan of my blueberry pancakes.  I reach the small group and slip my arm around
Orli's waist.  "So hobbits, did you enjoy yourselves?"

"Not at all," Dom deadpans.  "The food was atrocious and the hosts were
idiots."

"But other than that?" I ask with a grin.

"Other than that, it was fine."

They say their goodbyes and Dom gets into Lij's car, but Lij turns around and
suddenly starts running full-speed at Orli, catching him from the side and
sending them both tumbling onto the asphalt driveway.  "What the fuck?!" Orli
yells.  Bean and I pry a giggling Lij off of my stunned boyfriend.

"I told you I could beat Orli in a fight," he says proudly."

"That was a bloody ambush, Lij!" Orli snaps, sitting up and wincing.

"Shit, are you actually hurt?" Lij asks, his eyes widening with concern.

Orli rolls up his jeans and hisses in pain as the denim rides over a very
scraped-up knee.  "All you did was tear the skin off of my knee, mate," he says
sarcastically.  "No big deal."

"Sorry!  I didn't mean to hurt you!" Lij exclaims.  "Um . . ."  He looks
nervously at me and Bean, who are glaring at him.  "I'll just be going now.  Bye."
 He runs to his car and fumbles to get the door open.  Dom is cracking up,
and I shake my head in wonder as the insane young men drive off into the night.

"Are you okay?" Bean asks Orli, helping him stand up.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.  Just a bit torn up is all."

"Come on, lets get you inside," I urge, relieved to see that Orli isn't
having any trouble walking.

"That wanker will get what's coming to him," Orli says through gritted teeth.
 "Did you see how he just tackled me?  I say we pay Dom to embarrass him
tomorrow night at the awards show."

I fetch a large band-aid and some antiseptic so I can clean up the
nasty-looking scrape.  "Don't worry, love.  I'll personally take my revenge on Elijah." 
Orli flinches when I clean the scrape, but smiles reassuringly when I bandage
it.  "Does that help?"

"Yes.  But I think it could use a kiss to make it all better," he tells me
with a wink.

Ignoring Beanie's chuckles, I obligingly kiss Orli's knee.  "Satisfied now?"

"Yes."  He pulls me up onto the couch and puts his legs across my lap.  "A
little Viggo medicine is all I need to feel as good as new.  It's like Prozac
and Viagra rolled into one; I call it Vigagra."

Sean nearly chokes on his beer laughing, and I playfully smack the top of
Orli's head.  "You're insane," I say with a smile.

"And you love it."

"That I do."  I gently kiss his forehead.

"Please don't tell me I have to sit and watch the lovey-dovey shite," Bean
groans, although he's smiling broadly.

"Then we'll take our act to the bedroom," Orli tells him.

"We have an act?" I ask.

"That's fine with me," Bean says, taking another sip of his beer.  "Just keep
the volume down when you're performing your sexual gymnastics."

"Sexual gymnastics?" I chuckle.  "I think you overestimate my flexibility."

"You're incredibly flexible," Orli declares.  "Now come on, I have some other
spots besides my knee that need Viggo medicine."

*****

"You're wearing the same bloody tie that I am!" Orli screeches as he looks at
Bean.  I stifle my laughter as I see that both men are indeed wearing very
similar ties.  "I've had this outfit planned for days and now you just waltz in
and upstage me?"

"How am I upstaging you?" Bean laughs.  "It's a coincidence Orli, not some
nefarious plot."

"I wouldn't put anything past you, Sean Bean," Orli says as he slips his suit
jacket on.  "There's a reason why you always play the villain."

Sean rolls his eyes.  "Whatever you say, Orlando.  I'll meet you in the car."
 He heads out the front door and leaves me alone with Orli.

"Did you see that Vig?"

"It wasn't on purpose, love," I chuckle, giving him a hug.

"Don't get the suit wrinkled," he teases.

I pull away and smooth his shirt, threading his satin tie through my fingers.
 "You look sexy as all hell, you know that?"

"Yeah?  Then maybe you should come just so you can molest me when the camera
isn't on us."

"I don't think so.  But I'll be happy to ravage you when you get home."

"I'm looking forward to that," he says, leaning forward to kiss me.  "Love
you."

"I love you, too.  Enjoy yourself, Orli."

"I will.  Bye, Vig."

"Bye, sex kitten."

Orli laughs and walks out the front door.  I grin and begin to scheme about
just how I should ravage my impossibly beautiful lover later tonight.

TITLE: Some Kind of Heaven (6/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Spicing things up (Orli's POV)
WARNINGS: Mild bondage, toys
DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination
ARCHIVE: BTF, LBES, Lothlorien, my site; all others please ask, but I'll
surely say yes

"Hey Vig, guess what I saw at the market today."

Viggo looks up at me and gestures with his free hand to the toothbrush in his
mouth.  I sigh and tap my foot against the bathroom floor, feigning
impatience.  When he's finished brushing his teeth, he turns around to face me.  "Now,"
he says.  "Tell me all about what you saw at the store."

"Well, when I was waitiing in line to pay, there were these women's magazines
with articles on 'how to pleasure your man' and shit like that."

"Please don't tell me you actually took the time to read those," he groans.

"Hey, it was a very long line," I say defensively.  "I had to keep myself
busy."

"I don't think you need any help with pleasuring your man, Orli."

"Thanks," I laugh as we get into bed.  "Anyway, the articles were complete
junk.  One of them said that it's normal for your sex life to get boring if
you've been with the same partner for a year or two."

"That's bullshit."

"I know!  We've been together for almost two and a half years, and our sex
life is alive, well, and anything but boring."  I lay down with my head on his
chest.  "It's better now than when we first got together."

"Well, part of that is because we know exactly what the other person likes. 
Plus, we're not afraid to try new things."

"No, we're not," I say with a smile.  "And there are probably a few things we
can do to spice things up even more."

Viggo grins and pulls my mouth to his for a kiss.  "Oh, I'm sure that there
are plenty of things we could do."

"What are you thinking of, old man?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, right.  I know you better than that.  You've got an evil grin on your
face."

He just laughs and kisses me again.

*****

THREE DAYS LATER

Wait a second.  Am I still dreaming?  Because I don't usually wake up to find
Viggo leaning over me while he puts my wrists in restraints that are attached
to the headboard.

"You're awake," he says with a smile.  Apparently, he doesn't see anything
odd about the situation.  "How did you sleep?"

"Um . . . fine."

"Good."  He sits back on his heels.  "Okay, test your wrists to see if they
come loose."  I obligingly try to jerk my wrists out of the restraints, with no
success.  "Perfect."

"Vig?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you tying me to the bed?"

"Because I want to have my way with you," Viggo says with a wide grin.

"Oh.  That's a good reason."  I think my voice just squeaked.

"I thought so."  He slides off my boxers and then stands up.  "Okay, I need a
picture of this.

I laugh.  "What, you don't already have enough pictures of me naked, you
pervert?"

"These pictures will be a part of my next exhibit," he deadpans.  "I'll call
it 'Bondage in Bloom'."

"No, you bloody won't!" I exclaim, knowing that he's just joking with me.

Viggo chuckles and angles his camera so he can get some photos.  I go along
with it, since it does give me a bit of a charge to pose for him like this; I
may be an exhibitionist, but only for Viggo.  Even though he hasn't applied a
single sexual touch to my body, that hasn't prevented me from getting fully
hard in almost record time.  The idea of being ravished like this has made cert
ain parts of my anatomy very happy.

After three or four photos, Viggo is satisfied and puts his camera down on
the nightstand.  "Thanks for indulging me," he laughs.

"Hey, I get something out of it, too.  Years from now, when I'm way past my
prime, I can look at these pictures and remember what a perfect piece of meat I
used to be."  I wink at him.

"You'll never be past your prime in my eyes," he says with a smile as he
takes off his clothes.

"Fuck, neither will you, Vig.  You may be forty-three, but you're a *stud*. 
Look at that arse!  You could bounce a coin off of it!"

"Why would you *want* to bounce a coin off of my ass, Orli?"

"It's an *expression*," I tell him, rolling my eyes.  "Now would you get your
inhumanly firm arse over here, because I'm starting to feel a mite bit
neglected.  All tied up and no one to shag."

"I hate to disappoint you, love, but *I'm* going to be doing the shagging in
this situation."

"That doesn't disappoint me," I laugh.  "Just do something already."

"One last thing before the fun starts," he says with a completely mischievous
grin on his face.  Before I can even ask what he's talking about, he picks up
that blue satin tie I wore to the SAG Awards.  "Do you remember how sexy you
looked that night?" he asks.  "I wanted to have some fun with this after you
got home, but we ended up doing something else.  So I'm using it now."

"Using it?"

He walks over to the bed and leans over me, tying the strip of fabric around
my eyes.  Christ, he's blindfolding me -- we've never done that before.  I
shiver pleasantly at the realization that I can't see, I can't really move, and
I'm completely at his mercy.  Oh yes, this should be fun.  "Is this okay?" he
asks.

"More than okay."  I try to gauge where he is, but I can't really tell. 
"Should we have, like, a safe word or something?"

"Sure.  What do you want it to be?"

"Penguin."

Viggo laughs.  "Why penguin?"

"I don't know.  It just seems appropriate somehow."

"Then that's our safe word.  I can't imagine you'll need it, though."  I can
feel the heat of his body before his lips actually touch mine, and I moan
softly as his tongue dips briefly into my mouth before pulling away.  Tease. 
"Now, just lie back and relax."

"There's not much else I *can* do, Vig."

"Exactly."  I just *know* that he's smirking.

"Very well, then.  Do with me as you will."

He doesn't respond.  Instead, I simply feel his fingertips ghosting down my
neck and across my collarbone.  I suck in a sharp breath as his light touches
continue, brushing over my nipples with just the barest contact.  Nails rake
gently over my ribs and stomach; fingers do a ticklish dance around my belly
button.  The touches move lower, tracing a line over the length of my cock.

"Please," I say softly, not even sure what I'm asking for.  Viggo just
chuckles and gently spreads my legs wider before shifting his position to kneel
between them.  For a torturous moment, there's no movement or sound from him, but
then his hot breath fans across my arse and I gasp reflexively.

Gentle hands curl around my hips to keep my body steady, which turns out to
be necessary as I buck a little at the first touch of his tongue to my hole. 
Slick heat slides into me, his tongue reaching deep as he fucks me with it. 
All I can do is feel, which only serves to make everything more intense than
usual.  My body trembles and I clench my fists, wanting so badly to touch him but
unable to do so.

Before I can get close to the edge, Viggo pulls away.  I can't help but let
out a cry of dismay and indignance, prompting him to laugh and run a soothing
hand over my thigh.  "It'll be worth it," he tells me in a husky voice.

"It better be."

"Trust me."  He leans up and briefly kisses me on the lips before reaching
over to open the drawer of the nightstand.  Ah, he's fetching the lube.  My cock
does a little happy dance at the thought of what's in store for me.

When two lubed fingers slide into me, I sigh in pleasure and push my hips
down to greet them.  With my sight restricted, all of my other senses are
heightened and I can feel every nuance of his fingers inside of me.  This
blindfolding thing was a really good idea.  Oddly enough however, he's not angling his
fingers to hit my prostate as he moves them inside of me.  Before I can ask
about this, the fingers slip out of my body.

"Ready for more?" he asks.

"Of course," I say breathlessly.

"Good."

Viggo stretches himself over me so he's kissing me deeply; I moan into his
mouth and thrust my hips up in a blatant request for more.  Finally, his cock
slides inside of . . . wait.  That's not his cock.  Holy fucking shit!  He's
using a dildo to fuck me.

"Do you want me to stop?" he murmurs as he breaks the kiss.

"N-no, I'm just surprised," I stammer.  He suddenly angles the dildo to hit
my prostate, and I cry out.  "Don't stop!"

"I won't," he laughs.  His mouth licks and nips down my body as he continues
to manuever our new toy inside of me, and I'm biting my lip so hard that I can
almost taste blood.  When his lips close around the head of my cock, I nearly
scream in surprise.  Okay, *now* I understand why he's using the dildo.  The
sensation of being sucked and penetrated at the same tme is amazing.

I cry out when the dildo brushes over my prostate at the moment when Viggo
chooses to deep-throat me.  He coordinates the movements of his mouth and the
toy so they're working in tandem, and I feel deliciously consumed by the mix of
sensations.  Just when I think that I've gotten used to the technique, the
dildo starts vibrating inside of me and a keening wail splits the air.  I realize
belatedly that I'm the one wailing.

This is . . . well, it's undescribably good.  The feeling of Viggo's hot
mouth working me relentlessly as he fucks me with a goddamned vibrating dildo is
incredible.  Every time the vibrator hits my prostate, my entire body is
wracked with this unbelievable jolt of pleasure, and now Viggo's humming around my
cock.  Sparks flash behind my closed eyelids and I feel like I'm on fire.  I'm
done for.

I scream my release, thrusting my hips up as I come in Viggo's mouth while
the dildo continues to move in me.  When my sated body finally sags limply back
against the mattress, I hear a click and the vibrator turns off and slips out
of me.  His mouth comes to mine for a kiss, which I welcome eagerly; our
tongues parry and thrust around each other.  I hear the dildo dropping to the
mattress, and his hands slide up my inner thighs.

One of his fingers slips into me easily, and I moan as I feel my cock
beginning to stir again.  "Now," he rasps against my ear, "I'm going to fuck you,
Orlando."

"Yes," I whisper.  "Please."

I can hear him slathering lube on himself and my breath quickens in
anticipation.  His cock meets no resistance as it slides into my body, and we both gasp
at the sensation of being joined like this.  It's heaven.  It always is.

"God, you're so open," Viggo moans as his hands slde under my body to grip my
arse and pull me closer to him.  I wrap my legs around his waist and rock my
hips against his, needing more.  He plunges in and out of me with deep, even
strokes, hitting my prostate with almost every push.

We kiss fervently, my teeth nipping at his lip in the manner that always
makes him growl a little.  It's driving me crazy that I can't slide my arms around
his body or grip his shoulders tightly, and my fingernails dig into the skin
of my palms as I clench my fists tightly.  I love touching and seeing him when
we have sex, and it's maddening to be restrained like this.  At the same
time, I'm loving every second of being able to do nothing other than feel what
he's doing to me.

Viggo's thrusts are more desperate now, and I can tell that he's getting
close to coming.  My own orgasm isn't far away; even though he's not touchng my
cock at all, it's still dripping with arousal.  When he puts his mouth next to
my ear and whispers, "Come for me, love," it's all I need to push me over the
edge.  He comes almost simultaneously, making me shudder at the feeling of his
heat exploding inside of me.

Our mouths join in another kiss, and we don't part until after we've both
finished riding out our climaxes.  I whimper a little when Viggo slides out of my
body, already missing his familiar warmth.  The wrist restraints are undone
and my arms flop down at my sides; a moment later, he undoes the makeshift
blindfold, and I blink as my eyes adjust to light once again.

"Enjoy yourself?" he asks with a cheeky grin as he settles down next to me.

I laugh and flex my tired shoulder muscles.  "I certainly did.  May I ask
what brought this on?"

"Remember that discussion we were having a few nights ago?  When you said
that there were probably some things we could do to spice up our sex life?  Well,
it got me thinking."

"And you hatched a plan, huh?"

"Yeah.  There's a very, um, discreet store I know of that I went to yesterday
for this stuff."

"Yesterday?  I thought you were getting your car serviced."

"I lied," he admits.

"You're devious," I tell him.  "And I love you for it."  I look at the edge
of the mattress, wanting to finally see the vaunted dildo, and then start
laughing.  "Why on earth did you get a blue dildo with silver stars?"

Viggo actually blushes.  "I don't know.  I just liked it."

I reach down and pick it up, my laughter intensifying.  "And it's sparkly,
too.  This is pretty neat, Vig."

"I'm glad you like it."

"Mmm, it was a nice surprise."  I let it fall to the floor and wrap my arms
around him.  "Still, it can't compare to the real thing."

He chuckles.  "That's good to know.  It'd be a terrible blow to my ego if you
dumped me for a stick of vibrating silicone."

I laugh and kiss him, my hands cradling his cheeks.  "So I have a question."

"What?"

"Am I allowed to do this to you?  You know, wake you up one morning by tying
you to the bed and fucking you blind?  After all, turnabout is fair play."

"Of course you can," he says with a grin.  "I'll be looking forward to it."

I smile back at him.  "So will I."

TITLE: Some Kind of Heaven (7/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Who's the fairest of them all? (Viggo's POV)
FEEDBACK: It's the highlights in my hairdo, the extra arms on Vishnu
WARNINGS: Smut + Sap = Smap
DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination
ARCHIVE: BTF, LBES, Lothlorien, my site; all others please ask, but I'll
surely say yes
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This chapter was inspired by 'People Magazine' choosing Viggo
as one of the 50 Most Beautiful People in the World last year.  The email
addresses contained in the body of this fic are obviously fake.  Thanks to Losti
and Liz for their two cents

"Who was on the phone?"  I look up sharply as Orli comes into the room.

"No one," I lie as I place the cordless phone back in its cradle.  "Just a
wrong number."

He looks at me skeptically.  "A wrong number?"

"Yeah."

"Then why were you on the phone for five minutes?"

"Um . . . I was looking at the phone book to help them find the right
number."  Shit, just stop talking, Viggo.

"I don't see the phone book," he says with a grin.

"Well--"

"C'mon, who was really on the phone?  Were you planning a secret tryst with
an illicit lover?" he teases.

"Hardly," I chuckle.  "Really, don't worry about who called."

"Viggo, spill it.  Who was on the phone?"

"Just a magazine.  They want to do a little piece on me."

"Really?  That's so cool!"  He sits down cross-legged on the bed with me. 
"About your acting?  Your artwork?"

"It's just sort of about me in general."

"Which magazine?"

"'People'."

"Wow!  Like a cover story or something?"  Orli looks excited by this
prospect, and I have to smile.  "That would be so amazing to have my boyfriend on the
cover of 'People'!"

"They're not putting me on the cover, Orli."

"So what's the deal then?"

"Well, you know how every year they have that 50 Most Beautiful People in the
World list?"  I'm blushing furiously.

"They named you to that?!"

"Yeah."

"Jesus Christ, that's terrific!"

"It's really not that big of a deal."

"Yeah, it is!  My only question is why they're even bothering to put
forty-nine other people on the list when you're the only one who matters."

I roll my eyes.  "Stop it.  It's just some stupid thing they do to sell
magazines; it doesn't mean anything."

"Bollocks.  It means that now you have to believe me when I tell you what a
handsome hunk you are, because the editors of a huge magazine agree with me. 
Guys like Tom Cruise and George Clooney had better watch their backs -- Viggo
Mortensen is the new ultimate sex symbol!"

"You're insane."

Orli straddles me and wraps his arms around my body.  "Oh, those eyes!  That
smile!" he exclaims in a ridiculous falsetto.  "I swoon from your beauty!  No
mere mortal should possess such a seductive cleft in the chin!"

"Why do I put up with you?"

"You're too sexy for your shirt, so sexy it hurts!" he sings off-key. 
"You're too sexy for Milan, too sexy for Milan, New York and Japan!"

"I hate you."

"Your beauty turned me from the horible world of heterosexuality and showed
me the true path of being ravished by manly men!"

"Enough, Orli," I urge.

"Your sexiness gives the world hope in troubled times!  Like a beacon, it
shines across the seas!"

"I never should have told you about this . . ."

*****

"Thanks a lot, Dad," Henry says sarcastically as he walks into the kitchen.

"What'd I do?" I ask.

"Orli told me you're part of that 50 Most Beautiful People list this year."

I shoot a murderous glare at my boyfriend, who just grins unrepentantly. 
"Okay, and what's the problem?"

"The problem is that now all the girls at school will want to go out with
*you* instead of with me.  This is great."

"Henry, I didn't exactly call them and ask to be put on the list.  They just
chose me because of the whole 'Lord of the Rings' deal.  Otherwise, they never
would have looked at me twice."

"Yeah, but it's so weird that you're on the list.  I mean, I read that thing
evey year and I can't believe my *dad* is going to be part of it."

"Hey, just be glad that you got part of his gene pool, kid," Orli tells him.

"Then why hasn't anyone ever called *me* ruggedly handsome?" Henry demands.

"Because you're *fourteen*," I remind him.

"It's still not fair," he says.  "But mark my words, Dad -- when I grow up,
I'm gonna be way more handsome than you."

"I'm sure you will be."

*****

"You were actually named to the 50 Most Beautiful list?" Dom laughs.

"Let me guess -- Orli told you," I sigh.

"Yeah.  He was bragging for about five minutes."

"He's acting like I've won the Nobel Peace Prize," I say with a grin.

"So are you the cover boy for the magazine?"

I laugh.  "Of course I'm not.  That honor is usually reserved for superstars
like Brad Pitt and Denzel Washington."

"How does this thing work?  They just call you and say you've been picked?"

"Basically.  They wanted me to talk about my looks; you know, what I like and
don't like about how I look.  I told them I was uncomfortable doing that."

"Viggo Mortensen, the world's most reluctant sex symbol," he teases.

"The whole thing is just weird, Dom.  Before I did 'Rings', I never got
recognized on the street and no one really cared that much about who I am.  But now
. . ."

"Now you're the star of a huge blockbuster, and you've got a following.  A
lot of people would kill for that."

"I'm not complaining, and I don't mean to sound ungrateful," I tell him. 
"It's just hard to get used to."

"Well, I'd like to know why *you* were named and I was omitted.  I'm much
more beautiful than you are."

"I guess once of the editors has a crush on me or something.  That's probably
how these things are decided.  It's all subjective bullshit, after all."

"Bullshit indeed.  How could they leave me out?  I have the most beautiful
gray eyes in the entire world.  But they ignore that and go with the
sword-wielding poet."

"I'm sorry," I chuckle.  "I wasn't aware that this meant so much to you."

"Just do me a favor."

"What?"

"If they call you again next year, tell them you're not interested and they
should pick me in your place."

"No problem."

*****

"What's so funny?" Orli calls from the kitchen.

"Come look at the email Beanie sent me."  Orli walks into the living room and
peers at my laptop, reading the little note Sean felt compelled to send.

From: smbblades@yahoo.co.uk
To: Viggo1028@aol.com
Subject: How To Be a Sex Symbol

Congratulations on being named one of 'People Magazine's' 50 Most Beautiful
People in the World!  On behalf of Sex Symbols worldwide, I would like to
welcome you to our exclusive club of manly beauty and give you some tips on how to
be the best Sex Symbol you can be.
#1: Pick movie roles that capitalize on your gorgeousness by employing
multiple close-ups
#2: Pick movie roles that require you to take off your clothes . . . oh wait,
you've already mastered that tip
#3: Strut a little when you walk
#4: In your case, never be without a cowboy hat in case an adoring fan wants
you to put it on
#5: Keep your sword sharp -- or in my case, keep it 'Sharpe' (haha, get it? 
never mind)
#6: Always look surprised when someone calls you sexy . . . although you've
already mastered that tip as well
#7: Be prepared for your devotees to swoon upon meeting your handsome self in
person
#8: Do not be alarmed when knickers are thrown at you
#9: Watch 'Zoolander'.  Learn from 'Zoolander'.  Be 'Zoolander'
Hopefully, these tips will ease your path now that you are officially a Sex
Symbol
Sincerely,
Sean Bean, President of Sex Symbols worldwide

"He's nutters," Orli laughs.

"Completely," I agree.

"But I do like the idea of you strutting when you walk.  Especially if you're
wearing those tight jeans I love so much."

"Yeah, and thankfully I've got you around to 'keep my sword sharp.'"

His eyes light up.  "Ooh, does this mean I get to do that now?  I haven't
done any sword-swallowing in a few days."

I laugh.  "Go ahead."

*****

You know, the people who made up that list don't know what they're talking
about," I remark as I watch Orli get undressed for bed.

"What do you mean?"  He has a brief battle with his tee-shirt before managing
to deposit it in the hamper, along with his socks and jeans.  Clad only in
his boxers, he joins me under the covers.  "What's wrong with the list?"

"I'm going to have to write them a letter about the fact that they forgot to
include the most dazzlingly beautiful person alive," I tell him as I place my
book on the nightstand.

His forehead scrunches up adorably as he frowns in confusion.  "Who's that?"

"You."  I cup his face in my hands and smile.  "You're incredibly beautiful,
inside and out."

"Vig . . ."  He blushes and shifts a bit.  "You're my *boyfriend*.  Of course
you'd think that."

"You think I'm the only person who sees you as beautiful?"

He shrugs.  "I don't know."

"Orli, you're absolutely gorgeous," I tell him, brushing my thumb over one of
his cheeks.  "The first time I ever saw you, I couldn't believe how beautiful
you were.  You took my breath away, love."

"Really?" he asks shyly.

"Really.  And you still take my breath away; you're even more beautiful to me
now than you were the day we met.  I could look at you for hours and never
get tired of it."

"I feel the exact same way about you."  He turns his face so he can kiss my
palm, and I shiver a little from the contact.

"Do you remember after our fight in New Zealand how you 'worshiped' me?" I
ask.  "How you told me all the things you love about my body?"

"Of course."

"Well, since 'People Magazine' chose the wrong Fellowship member for their
little list, I have to make sure that you know just how beautiful you really
are.  So it's my turn to worship you.  Will you let me do that?"

"Yes," he breathes.  His eyes flutter closed as I lean forward to kiss him,
and his mouth opens to me immediately, letting my tongue slide against his own.

"I love your mouth," I murmur as I pull away to trail kisses along his
jawline.  "When you smile, it's impossible for me to be upset.  When you kiss me, I
can never doubt how much you love me."  I flick his earlobe with my tongue and
he sighs, melting into my embrace.  "I love how soft and warm your skin is,
how it feels under my mouth and hands.  And you have the most flawless
cheekbones, love.  They're perfect."

"Your eyes are so beautiful, Orlando.  I love the way they light up when
you're happy about something; I love the emotions they reveal when we make love." 
I kiss both of his closed eyelids.  "Open your eyes," I whisper.  He looks at
me and smiles.  "Beautiful," I say again.

"I love to kiss every part of you I can," I continue.  I capture his lips
again before sliding down to press a kiss to the hollow of his throat.  He arches
against me a bit and whimpers, making me chuckle against his hot skin.  "I
love the sounds you make when I touch you.  The sighs, the moans . . . I love
knowing that I'm the only one who makes you whimper like this."

Orli pulls my head up and kisses me deeply.  "You're the only one," he says
softly.  I look at his face, its beauty augmented by the love and desire I can
see in his eyes, and fall just a little bit further in love with him.

"You're beautiful," I tell him again.  "I know I've told you that countless
times, but it's true."

"I've been told that a lot, and not just by you," he says.  He's not being
conceited about it, since it's the truth -- people are always telling him how
gorgeous he is.  "But I only believe it when you tell me."

We kiss slowly and I lay him down against the pillows.  "I love your hands,"
I say, picking them up and kissing each finger.  "I love that they never stay
still, that they reflect your enthusiasm about so many things.  I love your
arms, I love how they feel when they're wrapped around me."  My lips brush over
the tattoo on his forearm.  "I love the Fellowship tattoo that we share; it
reminds me of those incredible fifteen months in New Zealand when we first fell
in love."

"I love every part of you.  I love your chest."  My mouth bestows kisses
along his collarbone and chest, licking his nipples.  Orli inhales sharply and
runs his hands along my back.  "You know how much I love your little sun tattoo,"
I murmur, tracing its circumference with my tongue.  "I love your legs; I
love to wake up with our legs entwined."  I kiss down his thighs and calves,
sucking gently at the ticklish spot behind his knee that only I know about.

Orli lifts his hips and allows me to remove his boxers, leaving him
completely naked.  "I love your cock," I tell him, my finger tracing a line up his
erect shaft.  "I love to have it in my mouth, to taste you and make you moan."  I
lean down and suckle at the head, letting the drops of precum roll around my
tongue.  He groans and bucks his hips, and I allow his cock to slip into my
throat, reveling in the small tremors that I can feel pass through his body.  But
I don't want him to come this way, so I pull my mouth off of him.

"I love to have you inside of me," I say softly, "connecting us, making us
one."  I strip off my shirt and boxers as Orli leans over and fetches the lube
from its hiding place.  He pushes me gently to my back and kisses me with the
utmost tenderness as slick fingers slowly stretch me.  My fingers wrap around
his curls and pull him closer in an effort to deepen the kiss.

When his fingers crook and brush against my prostate, I break the kiss to
gasp.  "Feel good?" Orli asks, his voice tinged with amusement and arousal.

"Feels fucking wonderful," I laugh.

He leans down and kisses me again, his tongue exploring my mouth and muffling
my groan of displeasure as his fingers slip out of me.  My hand fumbles
blindly for the lube, grabbing the small tube and squeezing some of the gel onto my
hand so I can apply it to Orli's erection.  His breath quickens as I coat his
dripping cock, and his eyes turn almost black with desire when I lie back and
spread my legs wide in invitation.

The first push into my body makes both of us moan, and I'm overwhelmed by the
feeling of being claimed by him.  He sets a slow and gentle rhythm punctuated
by deep kisses after every few thrusts.  One of his hands comes to rest on my
cheek and I nuzzle into the touch.  I keep my eyes open, looking up at the
rapture written across his face.  Absolutely beautiful.

Our mouths meet for another kiss, fingers entwining as he continues to make
love to me.  There's a bit more urgency to the pace now; I can tell that Orli's
been on the edge since entering me, and I'm not far behind.  He bends down to
kiss my neck, nipping at the skin while his hand slides down my body and
wraps around my cock.  "I love you," he says.

"I love you, too."

His breath becomes ragged as he lifts his head and looks at me, and I know my
eyes are reflecting the love I can see in his.  I pull him down for a deep
kiss, wanting to feel that connection.  A few moments later, I feel his body
shudder and he moans into my mouth as he comes.  The sensations of his warmth
inside of me, his tongue tangling with my own, and his hand still stroking my
erection bring me to my own climax.  I come with a muffled cry, my fingers
tightening in his hair.

When Orli slides out of me, I hand him our trusty wet-naps so we can clean my
come off of our stomachs, and then he drapes his body around mine like he
always does after sex.  I smile and run a hand through his damp and disheveled
curls.  "Do you feel properly worshiped?" I ask.

He laughs and kisses my neck.  "I do."

"Good."

"You know, Vig," he says after a few minutes, "I've decided that you're right
-- that magazine is clueless."

I chuckle.  "Why do you say that?"

"Because they don't know what makes you such a truly beautiful person."  Orli
looks up at me.  "Sure, they can talk about your eyes or your smile, but
that's not the point.  The reason why Viggo Mortensen is such a beautiful man is
because of who he is, not what he looks like.  You're beautiful because you're
passionate about so many things, because I've never met anyone else like you,
because you're brilliant, because you love your son more than life itself,
because you're the best partner I could ever ask for."

"Orli . . ."  I feel at a loss for words.  "Thank you," I say simply.

He smiles.  "You're welcome."

We lie there contented, not needing to say any more words tonight.  I slowly
fall asleep, knowing that tomorrow morning I'll wake up once again in the arms
of the most beautiful man in the world.

TITLE: Some Kind of Heaven (8/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Domestic issues (Orli's POV)
WARNINGS: None
DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination
ARCHIVE: BTF, LBES, Lothlorien, my site; all others please ask, but I'll
surely say yes

It's a wonderful feeling to spend a Saturday afternoon in early May lounging
on the couch with the paper and a bowl of Froot Loops.  I only have three more
days here in L.A. with Viggo until I fly out to Australia to film my next
movie, and I fully intend to savor every second.  As much as I love being an
actor, I'm not really looking forward to spending almost three months away from
Viggo.

The sound of the car pulling into the driveway pulls me from my little
melancholy reverie and makes me smile.  Viggo spent most of the morning running
various errands, and it'll be nice to have some quiet time together before Henry
comes over in a few hours.  Perhaps enough time for an afternoon shag.  Sure,
we already had sex twice yesterday, but I'm completely insatiable when it comes
to getting naked with my beautiful boyfriend.

"Hey," I call as he walks through the front door.  "Do you need a hand with
anything?"

"I got it, thanks," he says, putting a bag of groceries down on the kitchen
counter.  "Enjoying your Froot Loops?" he asks with a smile.

"Of course I am."

"I'm just going to put the laundry in the bedroom."

"Okay."  I go back to reading the paper and slurp another spoonful of cereal.

"Orli?" he calls a few moments later from down the hall.

"Yeah?"

"Could you come here?"

Ooh, does he want a shag?  That'd be nice.  I quickly fold the paper and dash
into the kitchen to put my cereal on the counter before bouncing down the
hall.  "What's up?" I ask breathlessly when I reach the bedroom.

"I thought you said you'd make the bed," Viggo says.  He doesn't look horny,
he looks annoyed.  Not exactly what I was hoping for.

"Um, I forgot."

"You always forget to make the bed, Orli," he tells me with exasperation. 
"You know that I'm not a neat freak or anything, but I do like to have my bed
made every day."

"What's the point, though?  I mean, we always end up messing it up anyway," I
say suggestively, hoping he'll take the hint.

"Look, if you could just make sure the blankets are pulled up so that they
meet the pillows, then I'll be fine."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I look at the bed.  "Okay, fine."  I
take the pillows and move them all the way down towards the bottom of the
mattress where the blankets are bunched.  "Satisfied, Master Chief?"

Viggo closes his eyes for a minute, and I know he's mentally counting to ten
to avoid yelling.  I've seen him use this technique with Henry.  "Orli, making
the bed is not that difficult a thing to do."

"Yeah, well neither is remembering to buy soy milk, but you always forget to
do that," I point out.

"That's because you never write it on the list!  I've told you a million
times that if you want something, just write it down.  Besides, you know how to
get to the grocery store yourself."

"Except that the last two times I went to the grocery store, I had to fill
the car up with petrol because you *never* refill it."

"You're one to talk about laziness, Orli.  It's two in the afternoon and you
still haven't gotten dressed yet."

"It's a bloody Saturday, Vig!" I exclaim.  "What should I wear?  A tuxedo?"

"Well if it's not too much to ask, Henry's coming over later and I'd like you
to be wearing more than just your boxers."  He pauses and frowns.  "Wait a
second.  You're wearing *my* boxers, aren't you?"

I shrug.  "Yeah, so what?  I grabbed them out of the dryer this morning since
I woke up naked and didn't have any clean underwear.  They're a bit loose on
me, but they're clean."

"I can't believe you're wearing my underwear."

"Oh, for God's sake!  It's not like it's anywhere *you* haven't been before."

"That's not the point!"

"What *is* the point, Viggo?  You're being a real tosser today!"

"Well, excuse me for wanting the bed to be made."

I sigh in exasperation.  "You know what, I'm going to go for a walk.  When I
get back, maybe you'll stop behaving like such an arse."  I grab clothes and
shoes off of the floor, dressing as I walk to the front door.

"Nobody walks in L.A.," he calls after me.

"I don't give a shit," I holler back, letting the door slam behind me.

*****

I spend about an hour walking around the area where we live.  After spending
fifteen minutes trying to figure out what the hell is pissing my boyfriend
off, I simply give up and decide to think about something else.  By the time I
circle back to the house, I'm still no closer to knowing why Viggo was being so
bitchy.  I just hope his mood has gotten better since I left him alone.

He's sitting at the table on the back patio, staring into space and smoking a
cigarette.  Holy fuck.  Smoking a cigarette?  The only time Viggo ever smokes
is when he's *really* stressed about something.  Okay, now I'm getting
worried.

"Vig?"

"Hey," he says softly, turning around to look at me.  "I'm sorry I was such a
dick before."

I chuckle and sit down next to him.  "Apology accepted.  Do you want to tell
me why you're so upset that you're trying to give yourself lung cancer?"  I
take the cigarette from his fingers and grind it out in an ashtray.  "You never
smoke unless something's really wrong."

Viggo sighs.  "Orli, these last two months have been so wonderful.  It's been
amazing to have you here all the time, to wake up with you every morning and
fall asleep with you every night.  And I just hate the fact that you're going
to Australia."

"Oh, Vig," I say sadly, taking his hand in mine.

"Look, I couldn't be happier that you got the part in 'Ned Kelly'.  And I
know better than anyone that this is your job, it's how you live your life.  I
mean, it's how I live *my* life, too.  But it's still hard to be separated from
you."

"I don't want to be separated from you either, you know."

"Oh, I know that.  And I wasn't mad at you, Orli," he explains.  "I was just
. . . I don't know, being an idiot.  The whole thing put me in a bad mood, and
then when I saw the stupid unmade bed, it was the last thing I needed."

"Yeah, well I didn't exactly help by moving the pillows down at the foot of
the bed."

Viggo chuckles and squeezes my hand.  "It was kind of cute that you called me
'Master Chief', though."

"I was having a 'G.I. Jane' moment."  I switch chairs and deposit myself on
his lap.  "That movie always makes me want to be a misbehaving young recruit
who needs to be disciplined by the ruthless Master Chief," I say with a grin.

He laughs loudly.  "Is that so?"

"Yes."  I kiss him soundly and feel his arms come around my body.  "I've been
a very bad boy, Master Chief.  I think I need to be taught a lesson."

"We're not doing 'G.I. Jane' roleplaying, love."

"Fine.  Then you can be Viggo, the eccentric artist, and I'll be Orlando, the
carefree daredevil, and we'll sit here and snog."

"Sounds better."  With that, he grins and pulls me in for a devastating kiss.
 I moan softly when his lips move down to attack my neck; one of his hands
slips under my tee-shirt and gently strokes my back.

All snogging stops, however, when we hear the glass door that separates the
patio from the living room being opened.  We look up and immediately blush
crimson as we see Henry standing there, laughing like crazy at us.  Viggo and I
quickly disentangle ourselves and stand up, trying to act as if we hadn't been
doing anything.

"Am I interrupting something?" Henry asks as he cracks up.

Viggo looks like he wants to be swallowed up by the ground.  "Um, no . . . we
were just . . ."

"Making out like crazy," Henry cackles.  "I saw."

"Well, we didn't think you'd be here this soon," he explains.

"Dad, I called you this morning to tell you that Exene was dropping me off at
three instead of at five, remember?"

"I must have forgot," Viggo says, still avoiding eye contact with his son.  I
would be laughing along with Henry except for the fact that I know I'll now
be the recipient of much teasing from the boy.  Not to mention that he'll
probably call Elijah to tell him about this incident.

"Should I leave you two alone?" Henry asks with a grin.  "I can go into my
room and turn the music up."

"No, really, it's no big deal," Viggo says hastily.  "Let's just forget about
this and, um, go to a movie or something."  He walks into the house, giving
Henry a quick hug as he passes him.

"We're never going to live this down, are we?" I ask Henry.

"Nope," he tells me, still smiling.  "But it could be worse, you know.  I
mean, all I saw was you guys playing tonsil hockey  My friends have some horror
stories of seeing their parents really going at it.  If that every happened to
me, I'd have to poke my eyes out.  No offense, or anything."

"None taken," I laugh.

Henry's smile fades as he looks at the ashtray on the table.  "Dad was
smoking?"

"He had one cigarette."

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah.  He was a little stressed, but nothing major."

"About you going away?"  Damn, he's a perceptive kid.

"Right.  But he's fine now."

"Okay, I called the movie theater," Viggo announces as he comes back outside.
 "Henry, if you really want to see 'Spider Man', it's playing at 4:30 down at
the Rancho Palos Verdes theater."

"Sounds cool.  Is that okay with you, Orli?"

"Sure, kid.  It looks like a cool movie."

"Are you kidding?  It looks awesome."  Henry is quite a comic book fan; it's
one of the reasons he's become friends with Lij.

"Where do you want to go to dinner afterwards?" Viggo asks his son.  "Does El
Tarasco sound good?"

"Orli should pick," Henry declares.  "I mean, he's leaving on Tuesday and
all."

They both look at me expectantly.  "Um, can we go to the PCH Chinese
restaurant?"

"Sure," Viggo says with a smile.  "On one condition."

"What's that?"

"Go make the bed."

I grin.  "Yes sir, Master Chief."

We both start cracking up, and Henry looks at us like we've gone crazy.  "You
guys," he says with a shake of his head, "are so weird."

TITLE: Some KInd of Heaven (9/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Long distance lust (Viggo's POV)
FEEDBACK: It's a giddy little thrill at a reasonable price
WARNINGS: Smut, coarse language, toys
DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination
ARCHIVE: BTF, LBES, Lothlorien, my site; all others please ask, but I'll
surely say yes
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to Mia for her help with the summary, and to Losti and
Liz for their indispensable wisdom and love

I sigh in dismay when the phone rings.  Great.  Just when I finally find the
time to read the book I bought last month, someone decides to interrupt me. 
If it's a telemarketer, I might be compelled to throw the phone out the window.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Orli?"  I immediately sit up and let the book drop to the floor.  "Are you
okay?  Aren't you supposed to be filming today?"

"Calm down, old man," he laughs.  "I'm fine.  It's pouring here, and we had
to cancel filming because it was outdoors"

"Oh, okay."

"What time is it back in L.A.?  I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, you didn't wake me.  It's about nine-thirty at night."

"How was your day?"

"Boring and lonely," I sigh.

"Isn't Henry there with you?"

"He's spending the night at a friend's house for the second night in a row. 
Apparently I'm not cool enough for him."

"Well, you're cool enough for me," he says.

"Thank you, love."

"You're welcome."

"So what are you going to do with the rest of your day now that filming's
been called off?"

"I don't know.  I guess I'll just laze around here for a while and watch the
raindrops slide down the window of my hotel room."

"Sounds exciting.  Might I suggest an alternate mode of entertainment?"

"Does it involve nudity?"

"Yes it does," I chuckle.

"Then I'm up for it."

"You're up already?  Wow, that was quick -- we haven't even started yet."

"Oh, piss off," he laughs.  "You know what I mean.  Now put me on speaker
phone."  I grin and transfer Orli to speaker phone.  He insisted that we get one
for the bedroom before he left for Australia, and it really does make all the
difference in facilitating phone sex.  "Now," he orders after I've transferred
him, "get naked.  And describe every move."

"What about you?"

"I've got my shirt off and my jeans and boxers pushed down to my knees.  My
cock is in one hand, the phone is in the other.  But this isn't about me,
Viggo.  All I care about is making you beg for me."

A shiver passes through my body when I hear the dominant tone in his voice. 
I'm more than happy to let him take charge tonight.  "You want to make me beg,
Orli?"

"I'm *going* to make you beg."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

"First of all, take off your clothes slowly.  And tell me what you're
wearing."

"Okay, well first I'm taking off my socks.  They're black.  Now my shirt."

"What shirt are you wearing?"

"Just a black button-down tee-shirt.  I'm unbuttoning it now."

"Nice.  You look sexy in black, Viggo.  Of course, you look sexy in every
color.  What about your jeans?  Are they tight enough that they show off that
perfect arse?"

"They're the ones I wore the day you left," I tell him as I let my unbuttoned
shirt fall to the floor.

"I love those jeans," he purrs.  "Do you know how hard it was to leave for
the airport when all I wanted to do was unzip those jeans and drop to my knees
in front of you?  You look incredible in them, but I like you even better when
you're out of them and your hard cock is sitting right there for me to suck."

My brain is flooded by images of him on his knees, working some kind of
special Orli-magic on my cock, and I stifle a groan.  "I'm taking the jeans off," I
manage to say.

"Underwear?"

"Those faded maroon boxers."

"The ones that you've had forever and refuse to get rid of?"

"Yes," I laugh as I take off the last item of clothing.  "And now I'm naked."

"Good.  Just the way I like you.  Where are you?"

"I'm on the bed now," I say as I sit down on the mattress.

"Are you hard yet?"

"I'm getting there."

"Then I'll have to step up my efforts.  I want you to be dripping for me,
Vig.  Touch yourself for me -- but no contact with your cock.  And don't even
think about cheating; I'll know if you do because I know every sound you make in
bed."  Damn.  "Tell me what you're doing."

"I'm skimming my fingers over my nipples.  I'm pinching one of them a bit."

"Nice.  Pretend your hand is my mouth.  Everywhere you touch yourself, that's
where I'd be licking and sucking you."  I groan at the thought of Orli
sucking at my nipples, teasing them with his teeth.  "That's right, it feels good,
doesn't it?"

"Yes."  I pinch my nipple again and feel my cock jump.  "God, I'm hard now;
my cock is aching for you.  Do you have any idea what you do to me, Orli?"

"I know, Vig," he says with a throaty chuckle.  "You do the same thing to me.
 I'm so bloody hard just from listening to you."

"My hands are moving down to my stomach--"

"Don't touch your dick," he interrupts.

"I'm not going to," I laugh.  "I'm going to touch my balls."

"What?!"

"You never said anything about not touching my balls," I remind him as I
gently roll them in my palm.

"You cheeky bastard," he admonishes.  "You'll pay for that."

"I certainly hope so."

"Okay then, stop touching yourself right now."

"Wait, you can't make me--"

"Oh, yes I can."

"But I was playing by the rules!" I exclaim, clenching my now-idle hands into
fists.

"It doesn't matter.  I'm in charge here."

"What should I do then?" I ask, deciding not to question him any further.

"Tell me how much you want this.  Tell me that you *need* it.  Then I'll give
you what you want."  Holy fucking hell, I love it when Orli brings out his
dominant streak.  "Tell me," he says again.

"I need it so badly," I tell him.  "My cock is hard as hell, and I would give
anything to have you here.  Please Orli, don't tease me like this."  Shit. 
Why did I ask him *not* to tease me?  Now that's all he'll do.

"Get the lube out, Viggo."

"The lube?" I repeat dumbly.

"Yes, the lube.  Get it out and coat your fingers."

I yank open the nightstand drawer and quickly grab the familiar tube. 
"Okay," I say when I've covered my fingers with the gel.

"Good.  Now spread your legs wide; as wide as they can go.  Then slide your
hand down and put one finger into yourself.  And you still can't touch your
cock."

I give him the finger (not a lubed one), knowing that I'm safe since he can't
see it.  "Okay, I'm not touching my cock," I report dutifully.  "And now I'm
putting a finger in."  Oh man, does that feel good.

"You must be really tight, Vig," he says.  "How long has it been since I've
fucked you?"

"Uh . . ."  It's hard to think right now.  "About a month," I say.

"Yeah, you probably need to be stretched.  Give yourself another finger."  I
obediently add a second finger.  "And don't touch your prostate."

"What?!" I yelp.

The bastard just laughs.  "That's right.  Don't touch your prostate."

"Orli, I can't--"

"Trust me, old man.  It'll be worth it."  He's doing that thing again where
his voice sounds like it's purring, and I relent.  He knows I can't resist the
purr.

"Fine."  I do as he bids, fucking myself on my fingers, but without that
crucial element being in play.  It's nice, but really nothing special.  I almost
feel like humming distractedly just to annoy him, but I don't think I can take
much more retribution.

"Give yourself a third finger," he urges.

"Can I touch--"

"No."  I add the third finger and continue opening myself, wondering when the
hell he's going to stop being sadistic and just let me come.  "Now," he says
after a while, "get our favorite blue vibrator our and lube it up."  The
vibrator.  God, I love how Orli's mind works.

I nearly break the nightstand in my haste to retrieve the vibrator from its
drawer.  Ignoring the chuckles coming from the speaker phone, I quickly spread
lube over the dildo and get back into position.  "Okay," I say breathlessly. 
"I'm ready."

"So I gathered."  His voice is a bit less steady, and I smile at the
knowledge that this is affecting him, too.  "Slowly slide it into yourself, Vig. 
*Slowly*."

I groan loudly as the dildo enters me, pushing my hips down to further suck
it in.  Fuck, this is is wonderful.  "Orli . . ."

"Feel good?" he asks.

"Yes."

"But you still want more, don't you?"

"Please, Orli," I beg, abandoning the last vestiges of my pride.  "Please
love.  Don't tease me anymore."

"Alright," he says, and I can picture the irritating smirk he's probably
wearing.  "Take it out and sit up on your knees.  Can do you it in that position?"

"Of course I can."  I adjust my position so I'm kneeling on the mattress with
my legs spread just wide enough so that I can maneuver the dildo.  "Okay,
ready."

"Good.  Switch on the vibrator and fuck yourself hard with it."  It feels
like I've been given permission to drink water after a week in the desert.  I
turn the vibrator on and grin at the buzzing sound.  Yes, Viggo Mortensen,
published poet and movie star, is about to fuck himself with a vibrator.

God, it feels amazing when it reenters my body, the vibrations making all the
difference.  "Can I touch my prostate?" I ask, realizing he hasn't actually
given me permission to do that yet.

Orli laughs.  "Please."

I angle the vibrator just so that I brushes against my prostate, and I nearly
scream from the pleasure.  All that teasing, all that waiting -- it's worth
it as I relentlessly work the dildo in and out of me, trying to pass over
*that* spot as much as possible.  "Oh, fuck," I moan, gasping as the vibrations hit
my prostate and the effects ripple through my body.

"I can only imagine how sexy you look, Vig.  On your knees, pleasuring
yourself just the way I'm telling you to.  God, and I bet you're so hard."

"So hard," I agree.  "So hard for you, Orli."

"Do you want to know what I'd do to you if I were there?"

"Yes," I gasp as I turn the intensity of the thrusts up a notch.

"I'd lie on the bed and get you on your knees, just like you are now.  And
then I'd have you ride my cock."  I groan from his words.  "It'd be slow at
first, but soon we'd both need it so badly and you'd be rocking on me like mad. 
I'd be so fucking hard as you rode me, and your cock would be absolutely
dripping."

"More," I beg.  "Tell me more."

"Greedy," he mocks.  I can tell from his erratic breathing that he's jacking
off.  "You'd fuck yourself hard on me, and I'd be buried deep inside of you,
trapped by the tightness of your arse.  You'd feel so good, Viggo.  Your heat
surrounding me, muscles clenching around my dick as you ride it."

"Oh, fuck," I whimper.

"Viggo, take the dildo out," Orli instructs.

"What?"  He can't be serious.

"Do it, Vig."  I obey his orders.  "Now lie down and stroke yourself for me."

I fall back on the mattress, wrapping a hand around my long-neglected
erection.  Fuck, that feels like heaven.  "Orli," I hiss.

"I know.  It feels wonderful, doesn't it?  I love you touch your cock, Vig. 
I love to have it in my hand and make you moan for me."  As if on cue, I moan
loudly.  "Just like that.  You sound so bloody sexy when you let yourself go. 
I'm barely touching myself right now; I'm getting off from listening to your
fucking voice."

"Please," I whisper.  I want more of him, more of his words.

"And you'd still be riding me, Viggo.  Fucking yourself on my throbbing cock
while you brought yourself off with your hand.  I wouldn't be able to stand
it, and I'd come inside of you, crying out your name."  I gasp from the thought
of being filled with Orli's warmth.  "Then you'd come, too -- all over your
fingers.  And I'd take your fingers and suck them, licking the come off so I can
taste you."

Fuck.  That's it.  I come with a shout, Orli's name escaping my lips along
with a gasping sob of pleasure.  My body shakes and shivers as my come spills
over the hand around my cock; I can hear Orli reaching his own climax, his
familiar moans and whimpers filling our bedroom once again.

"Viggo?" he asks in a shaky voice after a few moments.

"I'm here, love.  That was amazing."

"Yeah?  I wasn't too cruel?"

"Not at all," I chuckle, sitting up and rummaging around for the wet-naps so
I can clean myself off.  "You know I love it when you take charge like that. 
It's sexy as hell."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"I definitely did.  So you have no plans for the rest of the day?"

"None whatsoever."

"Would you care to talk to your boyfriend until he passes out from fatigue?"

"I'd love to," Orli says, and I know that he's grinning.

"Great."  I find my boxers and put them back on before slipping under the
covers; I transfer him off of speaker phone and hold the receiver close to my
ear.  "Are you still there?"

"Yeah."

"I miss you," I say suddenly.

"I miss you, too.  This is a great movie to work on, and everyone's been
really wonderful, but still . . . I just wish I could be with you."

"You'll be back before you know it," I tell him, holding the blanket close to
my body for some extra comfort.

"You know what I want to do the first day I'm back home?"

"What?"

"Just lie in bed with you.  We'll sleep, we'll shag, we'll talk, we'll do
whatever we want, but neither of us is leaving that bed."

"Sounds like a plan," I say with a smile.

"Good.  And if you even think of changing your mind, I might just have to tie
you to the bed."

I laugh loudly.  "Now *that* sounds like an even better plan."

TITLE: Some Kind of Heaven (10/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@a...)
WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/scary/ randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: R
SUMMARY: More relationship journals (Alternating POV)
WARNINGS: A smidgen of angst, a cupful of sap
DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination
ARCHIVE: BTF, LBES, Lothlorien, Mirrormere, my site; all others please ask,
but I'll surely say yes
AUTHOR'S NOTES: ***** denotes a change in who's writing the entries.

5-6-02

I *just* got off the phone with you, so you're probably boarding your flight
to Australia as I write this. Thank you for calling me from the airport; you
were right when you said that I was probably already experiencing separation
anxiety. But in my defense, it's your own damned fault for being so wonderful.
You really should come with a warning label -- Warning: May cause loss of
sanity. Not that I ever had a firm grip on my sanity, but you get the point.

It's truly ridiculous how much I already miss you. I can assure you that
when I go to sleep tonight, the Love Pig will be on your pillow. That should
be
all the proof you need that you've officially turned me into a pile of sap.
However, I'm a happy pile of sap. You make me happy. I miss you.

*****

6.5.02

I'm really glad that there's no one in the seat next to me, because this way
I don't have to worry about anyone looking over my shoulder as I write about
how amazing this morning's goodbye sex was. And then afterwards, you just
*had* to put on those jeans, the ones that perfectly show off your bum. As if
it
wasn't difficult enough for me to leave.

I don't know, maybe it's ironic that after all the bitching and moaning I did
about being separated from you after New Zealand, I'm choosing these roles
that have me flying all the way around the world. But you've encouraged me
every step of the way, reminding me that I'm living out my dream, and it does
make
it easier to know that you understand why I'm doing this. Still, it's tough.

Actually, do you know what would be great? Doing another movie with you.
It'd be terrific to combine two of my favorite things: being with you and
acting. Not to mention that you're such an incredible actor. I was so
awestruck
when we were making 'Rings' and I got to work alongside Ian and Beanie and
Hugo,
and so on, but you just blew me away with how you totally *became* Aragorn.
You really did teach me so much about acting. When I do the commentary for
the 'Fellowship' DVD, I know that I'm going to gush like mad about you.

It *was* a bit daft that you took the sword with you everywhere, though. I
still can't believe you brought it when we went camping. Did you really think
that you were going to run into some orcs in the woods of New Zealand? I
guess it was just your way of getting into character, like boot camp for 'G.I.
Jane' or creating your own art for 'A Perfect Murder'. Henry once joked that
you
performed animal sacrifices to get into character for playing Lucifer in 'The
Prophecy'. At least, I *hope* he was joking.

Wow, here's some supreme irony. We have several choices of movies on the
flight, and one of them is 'Fellowship'!!! And since I've already seen 'Harry
Potter' and 'Ocean's Eleven', I will indeed watch 'Fellowship'. There's also
the fact that I get to watch you look hot for three hours, but that has nothing
to do with my decision. I miss you, my hot, hot Viggo.

Okay, it's a few hours later, and I'm still on the plane. 'Fellowship' just
ended. Every time I see you say, "Let's hunt some orc", I always want to jump
out of my seat and give a yell of excitement. However, that might get me a
rrested, so I'll sit still. Though I'm thinking of popping into the loo for a
quick wank. Damn, do you have to look so hot? I still miss you, my hot, hot
Viggo.

Yes, I am aware that this has become the entry that will not die, but
something really cool just happened! A wonderfully nice old lady from a few
rows in
back of me was coming back from the loo and asked me if I was Orlando Bloom (I
said yes, of course, since I *am* Orlando Bloom). She told me that she
recognized me from 'Lord of the Rings', and that I did a fantastic job as
Legolas!
I blushed like crazy and talked with her for a minute. Apparently, her
granddaughter is in love with Leggy, so I wrote the girl a little note. Just
wanted to tell you that, as I'm a bit excited right now. I *still* miss you,
my
hot, hot, hot, hot Viggo.

*****

5-7-02

It's two in the morning, and I woke up a few minutes ago for some reason and
now can't get back to sleep. You're somewhere over the Pacific right now, and
I hope your flight is fine. To be honest, I can't think of anything
incredibly relevant to write, so I hope you don't mind that this will kind of
be a
stream-of-consciousness entry.

It's one of the rare nights in L.A. where you can actually see the stars
through the smog, and Henry and I sat out on the patio after dinner, trying to
come up with new constellations. He pointed out an arrangement of stars that
vaguely resembles California, as well as one that looks like Bugs Bunny. Then
we
had a bit of an argument over how much he needs to work on a paper for school
this weekend, but we eventually came to a compromise. He's even more
stubborn than I am, and that's saying something.

I still feel like an ass about the fight we had on Saturday. However, I
still refuse to atone for behaving like a jerk by doing 'G.I. Jane'
roleplaying.
Sorry love, but I have to draw the line somewhere. Having Aragorn and Legolas
get it on is strange enough. Plus, knowing you, you'll make plenty of jokes
about certain parts of your anatomy 'standing at attention', and that's just
totally unnecessary. And knowing me, I'll end up going on a tangential rant
about the military's policy on gays in the army, which could kill the mood
entirely.

Although I'm not sure that anything could really kill the mood when you're
naked. That always puts me in the perfect mood. Which makes me very glad that
we took those pictures yesterday -- you know the ones I'm talking about. The
only good thing about you going away is the phone sex, the welcome home sex,
and the excuse it affords me to take multiple pictures of you naked. I'm
officially a dirty old man, aren't I? I'm more oversexed now than when I was
twenty. Go figure. The things you do to me, love; the things you do.

*****

8.5.02

Technically, it's May 8th, but it feels like May 7th. Stupid international
dateline. I'm finally all caught up on my sleep, so jet lag isn't an issue,
but freezing my bum off is. Stupid southern hemisphere. Okay, okay, I don't
have a problem with the hemisphere per se, but why does it have to be bloody
winter in the middle of May? Another thing I can't get used to is growing this
beard. It feels like my face is wearing a jumper.

Everyone here is very nice, and I think that making 'Ned Kelly' will be a
great experience. Still, it won't compare to 'Rings' -- although I don't think
I'll ever have another movie-making experience like that again. I mean, we got
permanent *tattoos* to signify how much that movie meant to us. It's insane
how lucky I got to have my first movie be 'Lord of the Rings'. It's insane
how lucky I am in general. I miss you, my amazing, amazing Viggo.

*****

5-10-02

I was at the dentist's office today (a.k.a. the torture chamber), and they
had an old magazine in the waiting room with Paul McCartney on the cover. My
mind immediately went, "well, Paul McCartney is British. So is Orli." And
then
I couldn't get you out of my head. Then I was at the supermarket, and the
checkout girl's name was Ariel. My brain made a connection to your sentimental
favorite movie, 'The Little Mermaid', and once again, I couldn't get you out
of my head.

After that I went home and, well, everything in the house seems to remind me
of you. From the book you left on the coffee table to your shampoo on the
shelf in the shower, you're all around me. All I could end up doing this
afternoon was lie on our bed and scribble the most random thoughts about you.
Of
course, most of my thoughts are random no matter what I'm thinking about.

Anyway, it's almost time for me to get some sleep. It's only ten, but I'm
exhausted; for some reason, I haven't been sleeping well the past few nights.
I'm not sure why. I hope you're sleeping well, love. Good night.

*****

12.5.02

So last night I went to this club with a few people, and it was a blast -- I
ended up dancing until about two in the morning. It's so wonderful to just
turn yourself over to the music and adrenaline and get lost in your movements.
But then again, you already know how much I crave the natural highs of
dancing, bungee jumping, surfing, etc. You're my ultimate natural high,
though.
Being with you is the best rush in the world.

Speaking of stuff like that, do you remember when you tagged along when I
went surfing with the hobbits? Okay, dumb question -- I'm sure you remember
that. God, I felt like such a tosser, wheedling and needling you until you
came
with us, and then you ended up getting that bloody black eye. And it was right
after we got together, so I was really worried that you were upset with me
for dragging you along. But you told me you had such a good time just being
with me, regardless of the resulting physical injuries.

And then there was the time we went to that dance club in Wellington with the
hobbits (our entourage, if you will). Once I got you out on the dance floor,
you were pretty damned smooth; it was difficult to restrain myself from
ravishing you right there, but I managed to hold off until we got into the
bathroom
stall. Ah, memories. And mark my words, Vig: I'll make a bungee jumper out
of you yet. I miss you, my adventurous, adventurous Viggo.

*****

5-13-02

Why is it that everything seems to go wrong on Mondays? Maybe it's because
today is May 13th, which is supposedly the unluckiest day of the year. Well,
whatever the reason is, I have had such a shitty day. First of all, I slept
through the alarm clock and forgot to wake Henry for school, which meant that
he
was late and got pissed at me. When I reminded him that he was capable of
setting his own alarm, he just let out one of those sighs that says, 'why is my
dad such a dork?' I love him dearly, but he's such a *teenager*.

On my way back from driving him to school, I got pulled over for speeding and
ended up with a $75 ticket. Then I somehow misplaced my phone bill, and when
I called Pacific Bell to find out how much I owe them so I can pay the bill,
they put me on hold for twenty minutes. After Henry came home from school, I
banged my hip by tripping over the backpack that he had so thoughtfully left
in the middle of the hallway. And finally, I dropped a bottle of salad
dressing when I was clearing the dinner table, so now the kitchen floor smells
like
blue cheese.

I hope tomorrow will be more bearable. I miss you and love you.

*****

14.5.02

You are ths sweetest man in the world. My mum called me today and informed
me that you sent her a gift for Mother's Day this past weekend, which is one of
the sweetest, cutest things you've ever done. And now my mum absolutely
adores you, even more so than she did before. She's so glad I've 'settled
down'
with someone, and was telling me how lucky I am to have you. I told her that I
know exactly how lucky I am. I miss you, my sweet, sweet Viggo.

*****

5-17-02

This morning I was going over some of the photographs I've taken recently,
and stumbled across one of you laughing about something. (It was taken the
night
when we had the entire Fellowship over for dinner.) You're sitting on the
couch with a bowl of vegetarian chili in one hand, your mouth open wide in
laughter and your face looking almost directly at the camera. It's in
black-and-white.

When I picked up this picture, I was struck yet again by how beautiful you
are. I hope you're not tired of me saying that, because I'll never get tired
of
telling you how beautiful you are, how wonderful you are, and how much I love
you. What's so great about the picture is that it seems to capture the
vibrancy of your spirit. You have more enthusiasm for experiencing life than
anyone I've ever met, and the infectiousness of your energy and joy constantly
amazes me.

I remember thinking that there was absolutely no chance that such a
beautiful, caring, and utterly *alive* man would be interested in me. I'll
admit that
at first I didn't want to fall in love with you, because I was convinced that
nothing could ever happen between us. But in the end, I truly couldn't resist
the depth of my feelings for you and ended up falling headfirst into the most
incredible adventure of my life. That's really what we have together -- an
adventure. When I'm with you, I'm flying.

*****

18.5.02

I had blueberry pancakes for breakfast this morning. They were nowhere
nearly as delicious as the blueberry pancakes that *you* make, but they still
put
me in a good mood, as blueberry pancakes always do. It really takes so little
to make me happy. Of course, the main thing that makes me happy is you. Yes,
I get all warm and fuzzy when I'm around you.

Okay, a quick list -- the Top 10 things I miss about you, in no particular
order
10: When you mumble in your sleep, and when you snore (and don't deny that
you snore, old man. You do)
9: Your laugh, especially how your face scrunches up when you really crack up
8: The way you say my name, especially when we're making love
7: The way you wear mismatched socks when you're not going anywhere special
6: Your arse (because I really am that shallow)
5: The look in your eyes when you get a new idea or inspiration
4: Your kisses, whether it's a soft peck on the cheek or a deep, open-mouthed
kiss
3: How your hair always sticks up in a million directions when you first wake
up
2: The way you gently trace the scar on my back with your finger when we're
lying in bed
1: The way you kiss every part of my body and whisper endearments until I
feel utterly loved and content

I miss you, my loving, loving Viggo.

*****

5-19-02

Holy everlasting God, do you have any idea what you do to me? That phone sex
last night was . . . well, it was unbelievable. You have such a dirty mouth
on you, Orli, and I absolutely love it.

*****

19.5.02

You sound so beautiful when you come. Well okay, your voice always sounds
beautiful, but when you're doing that sexy moaning thingy, it's incredible.
You're so bloody sexy that you could turn any man gay. I'm proof. And now
it's
time for another Top 10 list.

The Top 10 things I miss about sex with you (again, in no particular order)
10: That voice (of course)
9: The way you like to pin me against a wall and proceed to ravish me. Who
needs a bed? Not you
8: Gag reflex? What's a gag reflex? You sure as hell don't seem to have one
7: Boldly going where no tongue has gone before -- in case you need
clarification, that's in my arse (wink wink)
6: Two words: inhuman stamina
5: You feel *so* good when I'm inside of you. You have no idea how good
4: You feel *so* good when you're inside of me. You have no idea how good
3: Cuddling afterwards
2: Your, ahem, sense of creativity
1: YOU'RE A SEX GOD

I miss you, my libidinous, libidinous Viggo.

*****

5-21-02

Okay, it's time for me to get all sentimental once again. Brace yourself.
I've never been one for flowery language or over-dramatic endearments, but the
fact is that you are my heart, my soul, my other half, my everything. You're
the hand that holds me up, the shoulder I lean on, and the eyes that see into
my soul. You make everything better with a single smile.

In case you're wondering what brought on this sudden sentimentality, I
honestly can't tell you the answer to that. I was reading the paper a few
minutes
ago and got this urge to write in the journal, so that's what I'm doing. But
then again, I've never needed an excuse to tell you how much I love you.

I remember waking up the morning after we first told each other that we
wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. You were already awake, lying
there and looking at me with a look of such unadulterated love that it made my
heart hurt. And then you leaned in and gave me a kiss that was slow and soft,
one that we had no need to rush because we now had the rest of our lives to
love
each other. I'm so blessed to have you by my side, and I love you more than
I could ever hope to express.

*****

22.5.02

You'll never believe what happened last night. Some of the cast and crew
held a movie night, and we each picked a video for us to watch (my selection
was
'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid', because Paul Newman rocks). Anyway,
someone selected the remake of 'Psycho', which meant that I had to sit and
watch
you look sexy for two hours. It was torture. My God, do you have any concept
of how irresistible y