"Knackered. So very bloody knackered."
I look up with amusement at Orli's mutterings. "Something wrong, love?"
"I'm fuckin' beat. And why don't you have any yogurt?" He closes the fridge and glares at me.
"I didn't know you *wanted* yogurt, Orli," I said patiently. "You should have put it on the list. Now what's wrong?"
"My back hurts," he moans. "All those hours running over uneven terrain . . . it takes a toll, even on such fine physical specimens as myself.
"Orli, you broke your back. Of course that would take its toll. Why didn't you tell Pete it was giving you a hard time today?"
He sits down next to me on the couch and closes his eyes. "Didn't want to complain; we're already behind schedule."
"Well, I think he'd prefer it if you spoke up now rather than cause yourself serious discomfort. Now take your shirt off."
Orli frowns. "I just told you my back hurts and you pick now to shag me? I mean, I'm flattered, Vig, but really –"
"Oh, be quiet," I laugh. "I just thought I'd rub your back for you."
He grins widely, and moves so fast that the shirt seems to take itself off his body. "Sounds good." He pushes me off the couch and stretches out face down, arching his back in a ridiculously alluring manner. Right, keep your libido under control, I remind myself.
"I don't have any massage oil or anything . . ."
"Hands are fine. Now, go to work on me."
I straddle his legs and smile. "You know, I kind of like this, Orlando. Having you totally at my mercy."
"Don't tease me," he says in a threatening voice, and I nod. After all, he *does* have a backache. I knead the pads of my thumbs in circles around his lower back, evoking a moan and a sigh. "Feels good," he murmurs.
My fingers move upwards, working out the kinks on either side of his spine and working to undo the tough knots under his shoulderblades. "Orli, you have to tell Pete the next time your back gets this stiff. It's not good for you, love."
"Mmm. But then I wouldn't have this to look forward to," he tells me. It has kind of become a ritual – after every few days of action sequences, Orli 'assumes the position' (as he loves to say) and I massage his back.
"Are you starting to feel better?" I ask after a few more minutes.
"I feel like a puddle," he sighs. "You know, if the acting thing doesn't work out, or the painting thing, or poetry thing, or photography thing, you could make a fortune as a masseur."
"Well, hopefully it won't come to that." I move to his neck, moving my fingers in gentle circles.
"Viggo?"
"Yeah?"
"What do you think's gonna happen when all of this is over?"
My breath catches a bit. "What do you mean?"
"All of this. New Zealand, filming, all of it. What's gonna happen to us?"
"Where did this come from?" I ask, now massaging his scalp.
"It's just that . . . well, we're only going to be here through December, and I just want to know what comes after that."
I finish the massage and slide off of his body. He slowly stretches and sits up, not bothering to put his shirt back on; his brown eyes are gazing at me intensely, and I try to word my answer the right way. "Orli, I don't know. I can't pretend to know where we're going to be in nine months. I do know that I love you, and that what we have doesn't exist solely within this vacuum that New Zealand has created for us."
Orli nods and chews a fingernail absent-mindedly. "I want us to still be together."
"So do I. But you know that it'll be very different."
"In what way?"
"Well, if you want to go back to England, I can't go with you."
"Yeah, I know. I wouldn't ask you to. But what if I wanted to go to Los Angeles with *you*? Would that be okay?"
I pull him down to the floor and kiss him. "Orli, I have to be honest. I don't think that when we leave New Zealand we should both come out to everyone."
"What?"
"It's just that –"
"Vig, we love each other! And our friends already know, so what difference does it make?"
"Orli, it does make a difference. Of course our friends are going to support us, but the world at large is a very different thing. And your career is just starting out; do you know how much harder it will be for you if you announce that you're the partner of a male co-star who's twenty years older than you?"
"Fuck that, I don't care! Ian came out, and he's still one of the most respected actors around! I'm not ashamed of who I am or who I love, Viggo, and no one will convince me otherwise!"
"I'm not ashamed either," I say fiercely.
"But you want us to be your dirty little secret," he says angrily.
"You're *not* a dirty little secret, Orlando. If you were, do you think I would've told my *son* about you? But you have to realize how fucked-up this world is, and how many people would just hate us if we came out. Not to mention I have Henry to consider – you know how cruel kids can be at that age, and I don't want him to get hurt." I pause, looking at the tears shining in his eyes. "I love you," I say firmly. "And when the time is right, we will tell everyone how much we love each other, and fuck the consequences. But it's not the thing to do the moment we get back from filming."
He wipes the tears from his eyes violently. "So how will we know
when the time is right?"
"I don't know," I say honestly. "Whenever I don't think
we'll both be eaten alive for loving each other."
"So you're denying me the opportunity to be honest about my life because it's for my own good," he asks mockingly. "Pretty damned superior of you."
"Orli, don't do this," I plead. "There's still nine months before we leave New Zealand, and we have all the time in the world to work this out." At his stony silence, I start to despair. "What do you want from me, Orli?"
"Some kind of promise," he says softly. "That this isn't just going to be some on-set tryst I never end up telling anyone about."
"That's what you think this is to me? Just some good sex with a castmate?"
"No," he quickly amends. "I know you love me, it's just . . . I don't want to leave New Zealand and not have you with me. I don't necessarily mean with me physically, though that would be nice, but I need to know where I'm going to fit into your life when all of this is over. And I need to believe that if we hide this for any amount of time that it'll be worth it in the end. Because I can't let myself get hurt like that if this isn't the real thing. Yeah, I know it's only been about four months, and I know that I don't have a ton of experience in serious relationships, but this feels like the real thing to me." He stops rambling and looks away from me, almost as if he's afraid he's said too much.
"Okay, first off I *know* that we're going to be together in nine months. I have no doubt about that." I take his hand and squeeze it. "As for after that, all I can promise is that I will want you in my life as my partner. Just as you are now. And I won't hurt you, Orli, because I think that this is the real thing, too."
"You do?" he asks, smiling a bit. "It's not just me?"
"No." I kiss his head. "I can't predict what's going to happen to us two years from now, or five, or twenty, but I know that aside from my son, I love you more than anyone. Yes, thinking that this is 'it' after only four months may seem improbable, but we're already in a same-sex May-December relationship, so fuck conventional wisdom."
Orli laughs, and lays his head on my chest. "Normalcy is overrated, Vig. That's why I'm with you."
I have to chuckle as I pull him closer. "Look, let's worry about what will happen when we leave here as the time for that approaches. For now, all you need to know is that I love you, and you will *never* be my dirty little secret. We just have to realize that the world's a pretty cruel place at times, and have faith that in the end, it'll all work itself out."
"'Kay."
"How's your back?"
"Better," he murmurs. "Magic hands, old man, I swear." He turns his head up towards me and I kiss him gently. "You always make me feel better."
"I try." My arms slide around his waist, and he sighs a bit, pressing his body against mine. The mood is broken as he pulls away to let out a giant yawn.
"Sorry," he laughs. "Still knackered, I guess."
"Don't worry. C'mon, it's after midnight; I think sleep is in order."
"I guess you're right."
We climb into bed, and moments after I turn the lamp off, I hear Orli shift and slide under the blankets. "Orli?"
"Ssh," he whispers and kisses my thighs, provoking an instant reaction from my cock, which had been savagely disappointed at the end of mine and Orli's kissing session a few minutes earlier. I can feel Orli tugging at the waistband of my boxers. I push the blankets off and lift my hips, stifling a whimper at the positively evil grin he gives me when my cock springs free.
"You don't have to," I protest, although we both know there's no conviction behind the words.
"Sure I do. That backrub was heavenly, and I owe you now." All thoughts of further arguments are annihilated as his tongue slides around the head, quickly coaxing me to full hardness in what feels like three seconds. "Feel good?" he teases as I moan.
"Cheeky bastard," I gasp, borrowing one of his phrases.
Orli just laughs musically and places open-mouthed kisses all around the length of my cock, knowing just how to reduce me to begging. "Watch this, Vig," he murmurs. I struggle to lift my head so I can look at him in the moonlight. "Watch me swallow your cock."
I nearly come just from the words. Orli gives great blow jobs, but he's never been able to take me *all* the way into his throat. Until now. I gasp as my cock is enveloped in the wet heat of his mouth, feeling him relax his gag reflex as I slip into his throat. A moment later, my entire erection is trapped in an incredible vice of suction, and I thrust a tiny bit, unable to control my body. Orli chokes a bit, and I wince. "Sorry," I whisper, but he seems to get over it, beginning to slide my cock out of his mouth and then all the way back in.
His gaze meets mine, and even in the darkened room I can see the mischief in his eyes. When he winks (winks!) at me, I thrust into his mouth again. This time, he doesn't let it faze him, quickening his movements and drawing me closer to orgasm. It's only a few moments before I let myself go, feeling him suck me harder as he swallows all of my come.
Orli licks me clean before reapplying my underwear and sliding back up the length of the bed. "Now we're even."
"No," I tell him, still trying to catch my breath a bit. Reaching over, I'm unsurprised to find that he's hard beneath his own boxers. "You think I'm going to let you go without this–" I squeeze him a bit "–being taken care of?"
"You're a regular Good fucking Samaritan," he groans as I push him onto his stomach and slide off his boxers. "I think the lube is still in the kitchen, though."
I chuckle, remembering yesterday morning's food fight at breakfast that turned into an impromptu fuck over the kitchen table. Only Orli could get me to participate in a food fight and then have sex on top of rented furniture. "Well, as tempting as fucking you sounds, love, your back is probably still a little achy." I kiss down his spine, running my tongue delicately along the length of his spine. "So I thought if I had to fuck you, I'd just use my tongue."
He whimpers at my words and I pull him up to his knees, his head still buried in a pillow. I pull apart the cheeks of his ass and run my tongue down further, making a circle around his puckered entrance. "Viggo," he gasps. "Come on."
"So impatient," I laugh. "But don't worry. I'm not intent on being cruel tonight."
Orli is (as always) reduced to very alluring mewls and whimpers as I explore him with my tongue, delving in as deeply as I can. His hips rock in time with my movements, and I can hear his hand moving on his cock, trying for double stimulation.
"Shit . . . Viggo . . . fuck . . . more . . . Viggo . . . God . . ."
It's a fairly heady feeling to know that I can always provoke this reaction in him. My tongue makes quick thrusts into him, and it doesn't take long for him to reach his own peak, coming with a shudder and a groan into his hand. I gently turn him over onto his back, and wipe the stickiness from his hand with some tissues we keep on the night-stand.
"Satisfied?" I ask with a grin as he snuggles into me. I know he's close to sleep.
"Always."
"Yeah." I kiss his head as I hear him drift off into the oblivion
of slumber.
