Anyone over the age of forty who says they enjoy birthdays is lying through their teeth. Generally, I don't think much about my age or getting older, but watching some of my young co-stars running around on the set, I feel older than a goddamned Istari. Okay, so it's really not that bad. It's actually been relatively painless so far, and Ian is throwing me a party tonight at his house. But still, birthdays are *not* my favorite events.
"Tig!" Lij cries gleefully, patting Billy on the shoulder and running away.
"You can't tig on a double tog, Elijah," Dom says in his best schoolteacher voice. I stifle a laugh, knowing full well that this game is just a ruse to irritate Lij to the fullest. Even Henry has played it with him.
"That's a new rule! I didn't know that!"
"It doesn't matter," Orli tells him. "Rules are rules."
"So I'm tigging you right back," Dom informs Lij, smacking him gently on the ass.
"Fine. What do I have to do?" Lij asks resignedly.
"Well, I tigged you on a triple tig tog, so . . . well, what *is* the penalty for that, Orli?" Dom asks with a grin.
"Oh, well," Orli pauses to devise some new torture for poor Frodo. "Tigging on a triple tig tog means that Lij has to give the birthday boy a lap dance tonight."
Lij looks at me with a look of abject terror. "Orli, I don't think . . ."
"Are you chicken?" Dom has a cruel glint in his eyes. "Aren't you man enough to give a lap dance?" What a twisted question.
"But I don't think Viggo wants a lap dance!" he protests.
"Hey, don't speak for me!" I interrupt. "I wouldn't mind a nice lap dance." This is just too much fun.
Those ridiculously blue eyes are huge right now, and his mouth is hanging open. "You –"
"It *is* my birthday, and you tigged on a triple tog."
"Triple tig tog," Billy corrects.
"So therefore, you have to give me a lap dance tonight."
"Okay boys, we're almost ready to start again," Pete tells us. "Are you guys ready?"
Orli nods. "We were just playing tig."
"I have to give Viggo a lap dance!" Lij blurts out.
Pete just raises his eyebrows and says nothing.
*****
"Okay, the party is here!" Dom bellows as he walks into Ian's house. "And so is the alcohol!"
"About bloody time!" Orli says, taking the bottles of beer.
"And remember not to give Lij any alcohol," Sean teases, earning him a murderous glare from the youngest hobbit.
"I'm nineteen," Lij grouses.
"Exactly." We all know that while our beloved hobbit may be legal here in New Zealand, he still can't hold his liquor to save his life.
Orli hands me a beer and wraps an arm around my shoulders. We're sitting on the couch, watching with great amusement as Craig and Karl play strip charades, a game Miranda is happy to moderate. Craig is shirtless, while poor Karl is wearing only boxers and socks. Once Karl loses another round and the socks are off, the game is ended, due to the fact that Karl refuses to get naked in front of all of us. Miranda frowns, but goes along with Karl's wishes.
There's actually a fairly large group on hand: me and Orli, Lij, Dom, Billy, Sean, John, Ian, Pete and Fran, Philippa, Miranda, Dave, Craig, Karl, and Hugo. We're all gathered in the spacious living room of Ian's house, surrounded by enough snacks to feed all of New Zealand and a shameless orgy of wrapped gifts. It's good to be the King.
I'm trying to drink a beer, not an easy feat considering that Orli is clinging to me like a koala, his head resting in the crook of my neck. We've endured the obligatory 'awws' from everyone, and Orli's given them all the finger. Fran asked me if she could trade places with me, which annoyed Pete just a little. Then Billy decided to actually join us, sitting on top of Orli's legs on my lap and placing wet kisses on my face. This earned him a pinch on his ass from Orli, leading to a girly shriek and abuse from Dom.
Orli takes the beer away and hand-feeds me popcorn, which I don't really want, but I know I don't stand a chance against a pouting Orli. I bite his finger to annoy him, which leads to several Gollum jokes. I grab Orli and kiss him, hissing, "my precious."
"Do not mention Gollum in a sexual context!" Sean cries.
"I think Gollum is gay," Lij announces with an air of authority. "I think he's in love with Frodo."
"I thought Sam was in love with Frodo," Dave says.
"Oh, he is. Everyone's in love with Frodo." Lij pauses and gestures towards us. "Except for Leggy and 'Gorn over there. Role-playing freaks," he teases.
"Lij, I can totally kick your arse, so shut up," Orli tells him.
"Wanker," Lij shoots back.
"Elijah, we've been over this," Ian says gently. "Do not use British slang if you're from Iowa."
The phone rings, and Ian goes to answer it. Orli snuggles in even closer and kisses my neck. "Having a good time?"
"Yes."
"I know you hate birthdays."
"They're not so bad," I admit. "It's just the whole getting older thing."
"You're only as old as you feel. And how old do you feel?"
"With you? About twenty-five."
"Viggo, telephone," Ian calls.
"Coming." I push Orli off of my lap, ignoring his whines of protest. He quickly latches on to Dom, giving me a look that says, 'I don't need *you*.'
"It's Sean," Ian tells me.
"Hey, Bean," I say as I take the phone.
"Happy birthday, you stupid bastard."
I laugh. "Thanks for remembering."
"Yeah, well I was threatened with torturous punishments from your boyfriend if I didn't call. He warned me that he had some very creative uses for elven rope. In return, I threatened to shove the Horn of Gondor up his arse, but then I realized that he'd probably enjoy that."
"You two are fucking crazy," I say affectionately.
"We all are. So how's your day been? Any birthday spankings?"
"Not yet, but the night is still young."
"Well, I think you'll like your gift."
"I'm sure I will. We're about to start opening them. It was just wonderful of you to send anything."
"Oh come on, Vig, you're one of my closest mates."
"Which is proof enough that you're insane."
"Great. I try to be nice and you take the piss," he laughs. "I'll let you get back to the party now, Viggo. Have a great night, okay?"
"I will, thanks. I'll see you soon for re-shoots, right?"
"Beginning of December. It'll be nice to see everyone again."
"Yeah, well we all miss you. Especially me."
"Okay, don't get mushy on me."
"Thanks for calling, Sean."
"Happy birthday, my king."
I hang up the phone and walk back into the living room. There's now a ridiculously big chocolate cake on the coffee table which people are helping themselves to, and the gifts are sitting on the floor. "Okay, time to unwrap your gifts," Ian announces.
"Except for Orlando, who you can unwrap at home," Philippa teases me.
Orli grins cheekily and wraps himself around me once more. "Ready for cake and presents?" God, that makes me sound like I'm five.
"Sure. Where should I start?"
A random gift is handed to me, and the fun begins. There's a book about Australian art from Miranda, a handsome corduroy shirt from Craig, a beautiful new case for my art supplies from Karl, some CDs from Dave, and two history books from Hugo. Philippa presents me with a large box of chocolates, while Pete and Fran give me a beautiful miniature sculpture of a kiwi bird.
The Fellowship insists on giving their gifts after all the other LOTR family members have had their turn. John, who enjoys giving restored books as gifts, has obtained a beautiful copy of Hamlet, in honor of the fact that I'm "the other crazy Dane." Ian gives me a framed photograph he took during Henry's last visit of me, my son, and Orli making ridiculous faces at the camera, and a fancy shirt for the next time I get dragged out to a club. Bean has sent what he calls a 'creative journal', so that I can detail the ideas and emotions that lead me to put together my art, as well as a homemade tee-shirt that says, "The best thing about shagging an elf: It's not just the ears that are pointy".
Naturally, the hobbits have collaborated on their gift, and hand me a huge box. There's everything from the practical (a gift certificate to my favorite bookstore) to the bizarre (a stuffed emu, God knows why) to the obscene (homemade Mad Libs designed for my sex life with Orli). They insist that the photo album they give me is only to be used for pictures of the four of them, so that I'll have a hobbit memory book after I leave, which is actually a very touching idea. And Lij promises me that as soon as they go on sale, he's buying three Dodger tickets for next season so he can do something together in L.A with me and Henry.
Orli is going to give me the main part of my gift when we get back home (much to the consternation of our pathologically nosy friends), but he gives me three other presents that he doesn't mind my opening in front of everyone. The first is a new, *two-person* sleeping bag for when we go camping, which elicits predictable smirks from everyone. The second is a wonderful book of South American poetry. And then there's a gag gift – a large tin of Altoids.
"Breath mints?" I laugh.
"Well, you know when my toes curl during kissing, Vig? It's really because the smell of your breath does weird things to my body," he teases.
Everyone laughs. "Yeah, Orli, that's why you snog Viggo every chance you get," Dom tells him.
"I'll have you know that my breath smells just fine, thank you," I inform everyone.
Orli takes an Altoid and pops it in my mouth, before kissing me soundly. "Now it does."
"Is that it?"
"One more gift," Orli announces. "This is from Henry. He wanted you to open it tonight."
Opening the package, I find two cards, one from Henry, and another from Exene. Henry's gift consists of a book I'd asked for, and . . . a Burger King crown. "What the Hell?" I laugh, pulling it out of the box.
"Wait," Dave says, plucking a post-it note off the crown. "It says, 'now you're the King.'"
Everyone laughs, and I shake my head at my son's demented sense of humor. Orli proudly puts the crown on my head, then declares himself the royal consort, which only provokes more laughter. "Okay, enough fun at my expense," I grumble, trying to look annoyed, but failing miserably.
"I have another gift for you," Lij declares, his voice a bit too loud. "And, no, I'm *not* drunk."
I shoot a glare at Sean, who looks away, realizing Lij is indeed a bit inebriated. "What's the gift?" Dom asks.
"Well, I tigged on a triple tig tog earlier, so . . ."
"He's really gonna give you a lap dance," Orli whispers gleefully.
Billy, ever the helpful one, decides music is necessary, and I feel my cheeks flush as Lij actually starts to do a bump and grind. "Oh my God," Philippa says, her eyes wide. "Is he doing what I think he's doing?"
"He's giving Viggo a lap dance," Pete confirms with a laugh. After more than a year in our company, Pete realizes that it probably could be worse.
When someone (Craig, I think) throws a coin at Lij, he begins moving
faster. "I wish I had a camcorder," Sean laughs. "Do you know
how much money I could make?"
Lij sticks his tongue out at Sean, and then comes over to me
and sits on my lap, straddling me. "Okay, that's enough, Elijah,"
I tell him, feeling uncomfortable.
"It's my punishment," he tells me.
Orli is cracking up along with everyone else, and Karl snaps a picture. "Elijah," I say, my tone turning to one of warning. When he doesn't move, I look around desperately. 'Help me' I mouth to no one in particular.
Finally, Hugo and Sean are pulling Lij off of me, ignoring his noises of protests. "That's enough, Elijah," Hugo says, trying not to laugh.
"This is why I said no alcohol," I remind Sean, leaning back against the couch.
"But it was the penalty for losing at tig!" Lij exclaims.
"Christ, Lij, tig is a made-up game," Billy laughs as he turns off the music. "We were just having some fun with you."
Poor Lij looks like a seven-year-old who just learned that Santa isn't real. "Made-up?" he asks. "But you guys knew all the rules!"
"We made 'em up as we went along," Orli tells him apologetically.
Lij sits down, sulking, and Sean puts an arm around him in a soothing gesture. The tig issue over and done with, we start in on the cake. "Thanks for not rescuing me back there," I say to Orli.
He grins unrepentantly. "I figured you should have to suffer the pain of embarrassment every once in a while. God knows I suffer it enough." With a wink and a kiss, he settles in next to me once more.
*****
"So what do you want to do for the rest of the night? There's still a good two hours before your birthday ends," Orli tells me as we kick off our shoes. Ironically, we were the first to leave the party, following my explanation that while I was indeed grateful for the outpouring of friendship, I really needed to go home and get my boyfriend naked and writhing under me. Okay, so I didn't exactly phrase it that way, but I think they all figured it out for themselves.
"Well, first I was hoping to get the rest of my birthday present."
He smiles shyly, and I just *have* to kiss him. "Okay. Well, it's up in the bedroom. Come on." Once upstairs, Orli goes into the bedroom closet and rummages through some junk before finding a wrapped package. "I needed to keep it hidden," he explains. "I knew you never clean the closet, so I figured it was safe there."
"You know me too well," I chuckle.
"Well, after almost a year, I'd hope so," he teases me. As I take the gift from him, I can see him get nervous. "I hope you like it."
"Orli, I'm sure it's perfect," I assure him.
"Okay."
I open the paper and smile. It's a simple framed photograph of myself and Orli, and I know it's from the same roll of film as the picture Ian gave me earlier tonight. There's nothing that would seem spectacular about it, just Orli leaning into me as we sit on Ian's couch, our eyes locked in a silent embrace. But to me, it *is* spectacular, and anyone who saw it would instantly know how much we love each other.
"I honestly couldn't think of what to buy you that would express my love," Orli tells me, shifting from one foot to another. "And I'm not good at creating stuff like you are. But when Ian showed me this photo, I knew that it was the best way I could show you how I feel about you. It's not as amazing as what you made for my birthday, but I thought you'd like it."
Placing the picture on the bedside table, I cup Orli's face in my hands. "It is *amazing* Orli. It's us. When I made you that book, it was because I never wanted you to doubt how amazing you are. Having this picture, just looking at it means I'll never doubt how amazing *we* are. I couldn't ask for a more beautiful expression of your love. Thank you."
His eyes light up as he realizes I'm happy with his gift. "You're welcome," he says softly. I lean in to kiss him, and his arms immediately go around me, holding me close. We stand there kissing for a few minutes, before his hands push up the hem of my sweater, and I break the embrace to pull it off. "Much better," he declares. I respond by unbuttoning his shirt, and Orli effortlessly shrugs it off of his body. Good Lord, he's graceful even when getting undressed.
We begin to kiss again, the feeling of skin-on-skin making everything better. Orli's hands roam over my chest, teasing my nipples and then skimming over the ticklish area of my stomach. I deepen the kiss, licking behind his teeth and then nipping at his bottom lip. My pants are quickly undone as Orli begins to get impatient, and I step out of them, kicking them to the side carelessly and then doing the same with my boxers.
A hand wrapping around my erection makes me moan, and Orli grins wickedly before kissing a path down my body as he strokes my cock. His tongue laves first one nipple, then the other before dipping briefly into my navel. Now on his knees, he looks up and gives me a smile that can only be described as impish. "What do you want, Vig?"
"Don't tease," I say. "It's my birthday."
"Do you want this?" His tongue flicks across the head of my cock, but immediately pulls back. I nod, trying not to whimper pathetically. "You have to say it, then."
"Please suck me, Orli," I plead.
He pretends to deliberate a moment before shrugging and saying, "well, okay." I'm too aroused to really be annoyed, especially as that tongue flicks around my erection again, devastatingly quick touches that reconfirm my theory that Orli is the world's greatest tease. "Happy birthday," he says softly before putting his hands on my hips and bringing my cock inside his mouth, apparently having grown tired of teasing.
Our eyes meet as he looks up at me, and I'm mesmerized by the hollowing of his cheeks. I reach down and put a trembling hand on his head, not to guide him, but just to touch him. He begins to set a rhythm, sliding his mouth all the way off to lick around my cockhead, lapping up the pre-cum, before taking me back in again. At the same time, a warm hand cups my balls, stroking them with the lightest of touches. It's too much, and it's not enough. This isn't how I want to come, and I push Orli off of my cock.
"Need you," is all I can gasp out, and he understands what I'm trying to say. He grabs the lube and tosses it to me, then pulls off the rest of his clothes, groaning with relief as his cock springs free. Without a word, he gets onto the bed, pulling the covers back, and kneels face down, his head nestled between his arms and his ass pushing up into the air. This isn't a position we use very often; we generally like to make love so that we can see each other's faces, but once in a while that position seems perfect. Like right now.
Orli spreads his legs wider, opening himself up to me. He always looks so fucking wanton when he does this, his body silently offered because he needs this as badly as I do. My cock is already slicked with precum and saliva, so I don't need much lube, but I coat my fingers so that I can prepare Orli. He groans at the invasion of two fingers and pushes back shamelessly, rolling his hips so he can screw himself on my fingers. He groans in protest as my fingers leave him, and I can see his hand lazily stroking his own cock. "So, what do *you* want?" I ask.
"Ah shit, Vig," he moans.
"It's my turn to tease you."
"Please . . ."
"Please what, Orli?"
"Please fuck me, Vig. I need it . . . please!" Orli
just being Orli is enough to arouse me beyond belief, but shamelessly begging
Orli is just amazing. I slide in slowly, forcing myself to stay still
as I bury my cock all the way into his body. "More," he begs.
How am I supposed to resist that plea? Gripping his hips, I start a rhythm that's hard and fast. His mouth had already gotten me close to coming, so I know I probably won't last very long. Driving deeper inside of him, he arches his back downwards so his ass is pushed higher, and the sensuous curve of his back is a truly beautiful sight. His hand is still stroking himself but his movements are fast and his breath is quickening. "Are you close?" I ask, feeling my own release growing closer.
"Yes," he pants. "Viggo . . ." His voice trails off and he pushes back against me again, whimpering with each thrust. I place my hand on top of his, stroking his cock along with him, and that sends him over the edge. He cries my name, and struggles to keep himself from falling completely to the mattress as I continue driving towards my orgasm.
Climax hits me hard, and I stifle my cry by kissing the warm skin of his back. Completely spent, I slip out of him and lie on my back, my bones feeling like they've liquified. "Amazing," I murmur.
"Happy birthday," he says for the hundredth time, and I smile. "Did you have a good day?"
"I did. Usually I can't stand birthdays; I don't need to be reminded of the fact that I'm getting older." I jump a bit at the cold, slick sensation of the wet-nap as Orli cleans us off. "I really had a great day. Thank you, love. Thank you for everything."
Orli nestles his head next to mine and kisses my hair. "I love you so much, Viggo. I always will."
"Always," I echo, running my thumb over his cheek. "I like the sound of always."
"Well, I'll say it anytime you want me to."
"You don't have to, Orli. I already know."
I kiss him once more before sleep claims our senses.
