I am forever indebted to my son. When he first talked me into flying to New Zealand, I was mainly doing it because anything that makes me cool in Henry's eyes is worth a fifteen month shoot. On the way to New Zealand, the reality of what I was about to embark on hit me, and I began to panic. Of course, once I got there and met everyone, I knew I had made the right decision. But I had no idea how much it would change my life.
It sounds strange, saying that a movie can change your life, but the bonds I've formed over the last year are as strong as any I've formed throughout the entirety of my life. And now, standing at the farewell party Fran and Pete have thrown, I'm not sure I'm ready to go home. That isn't to say that I don't miss L.A, especially spending time with Henry, but leaving the surreal and sublime world of Middle Earth will be difficult.
Of course, this isn't the last time we'll all be together. There will be reshoots, premieres, and that whole bit, plus we'll max out our credit cards flying all over the world to see each other. But still, everyone's a little sad tonight. That's mixed with the elation we feel about the completion of filming the trilogy; we couldn't be more proud of what we've accomplished, especially the amazing job that Pete did. When I finally see the finished product onscreen next year, I can only imagine how impressed I'll be.
The entire cast has gathered at our favorite pub, along with some of the producers and crew people. Bean has flown in from London for the occasion, and is currently arguing with Dom for the millionth time about "footie". Miranda is dancing with Ian, and all of the male cast members have taken their turn squiring Fran around the dance floor, much to Pete's consternation. I don't think he really has to worry about her running off with Lij though, so he should really stop shooting dirty looks at the poor boy.
Since many of the partygoers don't know about my relationship with Orli,
the PDAs have been nonexistent tonight. Well, almost nonexistent.
After all, if Orli *didn't* jump me, people would be suspicious.
He's wearing sinfully tight jeans, and finally obliging the myriad of female
crew people who have been ogling him for the last year by dancing with
them. Don't get your hopes up, girls. He's mine.
Looking at Orli enjoying himself (as usual) brings a twinge of
sadness to me. I have to admit that the worst part of leaving New
Zealand stems from the fact that I won't be near Orli anymore. Though
I don't really have a right to be upset about that. After all, I'm
the one who's not ready for him to live with me outside of the vacuum we're
in now, the one who's not ready for the harsh reality that would accompany
coming out. I'm working on it, though, because being close to him
is the most amazing feeling, and I don't want to lose that for too long.
"Viggo, stop brooding," Sean A. chides. "This is supposed to be a celebration."
"Hey, I'm an artist. I'm allowed to brood," I remind him.
He laughs and puts an arm around my shoulder as we watch Orli begin to dance with little Allie. "Which one do you think is cuter?" Sean asks me with a grin.
"Allie," I say with a laugh. "I'm a sucker for blondes. Why do you think I'm dating Legolas?"
"What's this about being a sucker for blondes?" Bean asks as he joins us. "Are you hitting on me again, Viggo?"
"Shit, you discovered my master plan. I'm only with Orli to make you jealous."
"I could always join you," he says, his tone dead-serious. Sean and I stare at him for a second before he busts out laughing.
"I knew we tempted you when you walked in on us," I laugh. "One peek wasn't enough, huh?"
"Well, the wigs were a real turn-on," Bean teases.
We stop the train of conversation as a producer walks past us. I don't think he needs to know that he just financed the gayest movie in history. The relationship between Sam and Frodo already has enough tongues wagging.
"Here's your daughter, Samwise," Orli tells Sean as he carries Allie over to us. "She's a natural on the dance floor, you know. I'll take her clubbing sometime."
"You will do no such thing," Sean warns him as he takes his young daughter into his arms. "She's not allowed to go to clubs until she's thirty."
We laugh as Sean and Allie go in search of Christine, and Orli nudges me with his shoulder. "Having a good time?"
"Yeah. It's just weird to be leaving all of this behind tomorrow."
"Fancy a spin on the dance floor?" he asks.
"Do you think that's a good idea?"
"I've already danced with Ian and Dom. I doubt we'd raise any eyebrows."
"Okay," I say with a grin. "Let's do it."
"Thank you!" Orli hugs me a little over-enthusiastically, and I can smell alcohol on his breath.
"Love, are you drunk?"
"Hmm? I don't think so." That's not exactly a reassuring answer. He pulls me onto the dance floor and we start moving to the music, Orli possessing a fluid grace most people (myself included) could only dream of.
As we pass Ian and Miranda, still dancing together, Orli grabs the woman of Rohan and gives her an exuberant embrace. "Orlando?" she asks, bewildered.
"Gonna miss you, Mir," he says, his voice wavering. "Can I have a kiss?"
"Is he drunk?" Ian whispers.
"There's a definite possibility," I sigh. When Orli bounds off of the dance floor and attaches himself to John, I shake my head. "Maybe I should get him out of here before he embarrasses himself."
"Might be a good idea," Ian chuckles. "I'll see you tomorrow at the airport, Viggo."
I give Ian a hug before going over to where Orli is standing, yammering away about God-knows-what. "Ready to go, Orlando?"
"You should take your pants off." he tells me with a grin.
"What?" How much has he had to drink?
"Really, you have a nice bum, Viggo. I think a lot of people would like it if you took your pants off."
Lij is giggling hysterically as he looks at my lover. "Dude, you are *so* wasted."
"Shut up, Lijah," Orli pouts.
"Make me."
"Sorry, I don't bugger hobbits," Orli says to Lij, perhaps a
bit too loudly, drawing some stares and laughter. Thank God everyone's
used to the demented sense of humor that afflicts the entire cast.
"Okay, Orlando, bedtime," I tell him firmly. "Say goodbye to all the nice people."
"Goodbye to all the nice people!" he hollers.
"Good night, Master Elf," John bellows.
"Viggo, be sure he gets home safely," Bean says with a wink. Bastard.
"No problem, Mr. Bean," I assure him. His face turns red; he really hates being called that. "Come on, Orlando," I urge, pulling my soused boyfriend out to the car. Mercifully, he gets in without an argument and leans back in the seat.
"Where're we going, Vig?"
"Home, you drunken fool," I say affectionately. It's hard to be annoyed with him when he looks so cute, his brown eyes wide with alcohol-induced confusion. "Got a bit carried away with the partying?"
"I'm sorry," he says, looking forlorn. "Please don't be angry."
Wow. From goofy drunk Orli to overemotional drunk Orli in two seconds that's fairly impressive. "I'm not angry, love. I'm just not looking forward to holding your head over a toilet later tonight."
"No, I'll just hold it in," he promises solemnly. Then he grins and rolls the window down. "Mind if I sing?"
"What?"
"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer! Take one down and pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall!"
"Orli, please stop singing," I groan. Not that he listens to me.
We're at sixty-seven bottles of beer on the wall when we finally get to my house. "Take one down and pass it around, sixty-six bottles of beer on the wall!" he sings to me as we step though the front door. Actually, I'm really dragging him at this point. Legolas may be able to walk on snow, but Orli's heavy as shit.
"Raise your arms," I command as I pull off his tee-shirt once we're
in my room. "It's time to get you into bed."
"Don't wanna," he whines, his head falling onto my shoulder.
"Wanna snuggle."
"Okay, we'll snuggle after I get you in bed. Now raise your arms." He obeys with a petulant look on his face, and I shake my head. "What am I going to do with you, Orli?"
"Sorry," he sniffles, his eyes filling with tears. "I ruined our last night here."
I cup his face and kiss him, not caring about the thin scent of alcohol on his breath. "Don't worry, love. Just get some sleep." I help him out of his jeans and lead him over to the bed, covering him with blankets. "Good night, Orli. I'm never letting you drink again."
"Mmm, okay," he mumbles. His eyes close immediately, and he drifts off to sleep.
"Crazy boy," I say with a smile. I kiss his forehead and change out of my own clothes, brushing my teeth and reminding myself that we have time to make love in the morning. If Orli's not so hung over that it hurts to open his eyes. Well, it's not as if I was any better when I was twenty-three.
I walk out of the bathroom and frown at the sight of an empty bed. Did I miss something? Didn't I just put elf boy to bed? All of a sudden, a heavy weight hits my body and I find myself slammed up against the wall. I let out a very manly shriek of fright and Orli grins at me while pinning my body.
"Can I ravish you now?" he asks calmly.
"What?!"
"Can I ravish you now? I've been waiting all fucking day, Vig. You shouldn't be allowed to go out in public looking so damned shaggable."
"Orli, I appreciate the sentiment, but you're a mite bit drunk, and I can't take advantage of you like that."
"Bollocks. Stop being so chivalrous and shag me, you big hunk of a man."
"Okay, you're *really* drunk if you're calling me a big hunk of a man."
"Viggo," he laughs. "I'm *not* drunk. I never was."
"Huh?" Sometimes my eloquence surprises even me.
"I had a swig of Dom's beer before I took Allie for a dance so there'd be alcohol on my breath. But it was all a ruse to get you out of that party. C'mon, do you really think Chris would have entrusted me with her daughter if I was wasted?"
"Umm, maybe?"
"You're so adorable when your brow furrows. I could eat you with a spoon."
"So . . . you faked all of this? The singing, the crying, the joke about hobbit-buggering?"
"Yeah. If I wasn't convincing enough, Bean was gonna help me out."
Note to self: kill Sean. "No, you were plenty convincing. You deserve a fucking Oscar, actually."
"Do they have that category? Playing drunk so you can ravish Viggo Mortensen?" He's still wearing an impudent grin, and I'm not sure whether I want to kiss it off or smack it off. Orli takes that decision out of my hands by plundering my mouth with his tongue. The kiss is short and intense and his eyes are actually sparkling when he pulls away. "If I was drunk, do you think I'd be able to be hard right now?" He pushes his hips against mine, and I gasp at the feeling of his erection.
"You're always able to be hard," I manage to respond as my own cock begins to stir.
"Well," he murmurs, kissing my neck, "that's not difficult when you're the inspiration. Now, c'mon, let's go to bed. And I still maintain that you're a big hunk of a man."
I roll my eyes and let him drag me across the room, and we tumble onto the mattress. "So what gave you the idea that *you're* going to do the ravishing in this situation?"
Orli blinks. "Huh?"
His confusion lasts just long enough for me to roll him to his back and pin his arms to the mattress. "You're slipping," I chide as I kneel over him.
Giving me his trademark smirk, he kicks my leg out from under me and reverses our positions. "You were saying, old man?" All I can manage is a moan as he wraps a hand around my erection. "I love that you sleep naked, Vig. It gives me certain . . . advantages."
"Christ."
"Sorry, I think you're mistaking me for someone else."
I glare at him. "Orlando."
"Ooh, you used my full name! I'm in trouble!"
"You're lucky enough I'm not torturing you for the prank you pulled
earlier," I inform him. "I really should . . . shit, that feels good."
"You like?" he asks as he slowly strokes me.
"What kind of bullshit question is that? Of course I like it."
"Good." Orli pauses and looks at me with a smile. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
His smile turns into one of those wicked grins and I barely have time to register that he's moving before I feel his tongue sliding around the head of my cock. God, I'm going to miss him. Of course, not just because of his oral capabilities but, well, maybe I should stop trying to think rationally at this point. Because I think Orli just swallowed my cock. I look down to check. Yup, he did.
Wait! Rational thought is breaking through again with a brilliant idea! Oh, what an idea! I'm like the Pythagoras of sex! Except I'm Danish, not Greek. Are there any great Danish inventors? Oh well, I should probably share my brilliant idea with Orli. "Orli! Orli!" He looks at me and winks. Shit, he thinks I'm moaning his name. "Orli, stop!"
"Why?" he pouts as he pulls away.
"I have a great idea."
"Vig, if it's that thing we did last week, I think we're out of honey."
"No, this involves something called reciprocation. Come here." Orli shucks his boxers, then yelps as I grab his torso and maneuver him so he's kneeling astride my head, his body leaning over mine and his mouth positioned over my cock once more.
"I like your idea," he murmurs before taking me into his mouth again.
"Thank you, love," I say as I flick my tongue out to tease him. He squirms and pushes his cock down at me. "Impatient boy," I mock. But I really shouldn't be too harsh he's doing a very good job right now, and he deserves to be rewarded. My hands reach up and grip his hips, which both keeps him still *and* gives me leverage to pull up off of the mattress. I'm so smart.
Orli apparently agrees, if his whimpers and moans are any indication. The really great thing about that is the vibrations that shoot through my cock whenever he makes a noise. And I'm having a pretty good time myself, feeling his erection pulse inside of my mouth. He's taking me all the way in at this point, and I really don't stand a chance. I let myself go, and moan his name as I come.
I know that Orli's close, too, so I move off of his cock and slide my tongue over his balls before circling the entrance to his body. All it takes is a few quick flicks of tongue before he starts trembling, and I quickly take his erection into my mouth again.
"Oh, bloody hell!" he yells as his climax hits him. I would laugh, but that's impossible right now.
We manage to disentangle ourselves and both lie right-side-up in the bed again, and stay there kissing for a long time. I reach for his arm and kiss the elvish tattoo on his forearm. My fingers stroke over it and I sigh.
"Stop it," he says.
"Stop what?"
"Thinking. Don't think tonight." He kisses me, his tongue lazily swirling around in my mouth. "Tomorrow isn't the end for us, you know."
"I know, it's just that"
"Viggo, I'm serious. Just push it all out of your mind for now and make love to me."
"No."
"What?"
"You promised there would be ravishing. Follow through," I challenge him.
"I did promise ravishing," he muses. "And you still look quite shaggable."
I bat my eyelashes, which doesn't work very well, as Orli dissolves into a fit of laughter. Okay, so I should never try that again; I'm just not pretty enough. "Orli? Sex?"
That gets his attention again. "Right. You didn't pack the lube, did you?"
"How stupid do you think I am?" I ask with raised eyebrows. "It's still in the top drawer."
He grabs it with glee and spreads the gel over his fingers as I get comfy among the pillows. The sensation of a slick finger entering me causes me to gasp and spread my legs wider. Take a hint, Orli. He catches on quickly (such a bright boy) and adds another finger, then another. I moan as he brushes over my prostate, and push my hips down.
"Ready?" he asks.
"Please," I groan.
Quickly coating himself with the lube, he pushes into me halfway and then stops. He's trying to torture me, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me beg. We're now engaged in a staring contest and I narrow my eyes, glaring at him. Finally, he needs movement as badly as I do and slides all the way in. Both of us moan as his hips come up flush against my body.
"God, you feel so good," Orli breathes. He leans down and kisses me, his hands bracing on either side of my head. "Wonderful."
"Move," I plead.
With slow, even thrusts, he begins to make love to me. I wrap my legs around his waist and close my eyes, wanting nothing more than to simply surrender to the waves of pleasure. The ghost of fingertips on my eyelids makes me open my eyes. "Don't look away," he says. Our eyes meet, and his chocolate ones are more beautiful than ever.
"I can't look away."
"Good." The pace quickens and I grip his arms tightly, thrusting my hips back at him. My ankles lock around his back, changing the angle and making him drive deeper into me. When he begins to hit my prostate with his strokes, I shout his name. He grins, evidently very proud of himself. Well, I guess he has a right to be.
I try to reach down so I can grasp my erection, but he's too fast, pinning my hand to the mattress. "Please," I beg. My cock is *dying* for some kind of contact.
Orli just shakes his head no and then kisses me fiercely. "Just let go," he murmurs before kissing me again. We're actually making the bed creak at this point, and I think that if we were to live here for another month, we'd finally break the damned thing. His breath is hot on my neck as he pulls his mouth from mine, and I clench my muscles around him, wanting us to climax at the same time.
"Come for me, love," I urge.
He does, right as my own orgasm hits me. I can't even remember how long it's been since I came without direct stimulation to my cock. Damn, he's good. When all that's left is the afterglow, he slides out of me and settles himself so he's curled around my body.
"You really are my own personal koala, aren't you?" I ask with a smile.
"Vig, koalas are from Australia, not New Zealand," he reminds me.
"It doesn't matter. Your cuddling style is directly borrowed from koalas. You've been watching too much Animal Planet before sex."
Orli laughs and kisses my shoulder. "Well, nature shows can be a real turn-on," he jokes. "Those films of rhinos shagging can really get me hot for you."
"That statement is disturbing on a number of levels." I run my hand over his stubbly scalp with a sad smile. In truth, I'm not ready for tomorrow to come. Almost the entire cast is flying to L.A., but once we get there most of them Orli included will get on a plane bound for Heathrow. That will be the beginning of the long-distance relationship that my fears have dictated but my heart is dreading.
I'm more in love with him than I ever have been with anyone else. This isn't to say that he's perfect, or that our relationship is always easy, but in the end he's worth all the shit that gets in the way. When he blew up at me in front of everyone a few weeks ago, it hurt me so badly that I was seriously thinking about just ending it with him. But when he apologized with such naked honesty and I saw how much he was in pain from hurting me, I had to forgive him. After all, God knows I'll do something stupid as well at some point down the road. We're both only human.
"Viggo, you're thinking again," Orli says reprovingly.
"Sorry," I laugh. "I'll stop."
"Good. Wouldn't want to punish you, old man."
"A skinny thing like you? What kind of damage do you think you could inflict?"
"Hey, I am *not* skinny," he protests.
"Whatever you say, love."
Instead of protesting again, Orli grins and kisses me soundly. "Not skinny," he repeats before yawning.
"Sleepy?"
"Between the party, acting drunk, and shagging, I'm a bit worn out," he tells me.
"Ah yes, acting drunk. I think I'm going to have to get you back for that."
Orli shivers from my words. "Have any plans?"
"Not for tonight," I say. "But you should probably watch your back in the morning."
"Yeah, I'll be sure not to drop the soap in the shower," he laughs.
"Go to sleep, elf boy." I kiss his forehead and pull him closer.
"Mmm, okay," he murmurs. It's insane how fast he can fall
asleep. "Love you, Vig."
"I love you, too, Orlando. Sweet dreams."
"Not as sweet as you," Orli says sleepily.
I hold him as he drifts off to sleep, my own fatigue beginning to take
over me. As my eyelids grow heavy, I smile at his words, realizing
that they ring true. Dreams can be nice, but they have nothing on
the reality of what we have together.
