TITLE: Heart and Shoulder (20/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
WEBSITE:
https://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Keeping busy during solitude (Viggo's POV)
FEEDBACK: To (badly) paraphrase Galadriel: "This task is asked of the
beloved readers. And if you do not do it, Elizabeth will be
sad." In other words, let me know what you think!
WARNINGS: None
DISCLAIMER: If I knew any of these people, I'd be the happiest
girl in the world. But I don't. So that means this is all
pure fiction, and I don't make any claims that these stories are true,
nor do I make any money off of them. This is all just to satisfy
my demented imagination.
ARCHIVE: Help yourself, just let me know where it's going
AUTHOR'S NOTES: A permanent thank you to my beloved Lostiawen for her
support, beta skills, and insanity
"This is perfect! This is heaven!"
I look up from my book with a smile and glance over at where Henry is
floating on one of our pool rafts. Elijah is on another raft
several feet away from him, trying in vain to get a tan to take the
place of his porcelain complexion. Dom is playing a high-stakes
game of Twister with Henry's girlfriend, Jemila, his usually shaky
coordination impaired further by the beer that he just gulped
down. Rounding out the group is Exene, who came over while her
house is being painted; she's watching the game of Twister with great
amusement.
The only thing missing from this blissful late summer afternoon is my
very significant other. Orli is in Kentucky filming Elizabethtown
for the next four weeks, and although these separations are something
that we've gone through many times, it never seems to get any
easier. Going to sleep every night with the other side of the bed
empty isn't the best feeling in the world.
At least I get to wake up to hear Orli telling me how much he loves me,
even if he's thousands of miles away. He's become my alarm clock,
calling me at precisely seven every morning from his set.
Necessity often dictates that it's a quick phone call, with little time
for substantive conversation. But that doesn't really
matter. What makes it so special to me is that he takes the time
out of his extremely busy day – *every* day – to simply let me know
that he's thinking of me, and to send his love until we talk again.
Speaking of which, I should call him soon. He had mentioned
earlier than he's going to try and go out to dinner with a few of his
co-stars and the crew members, meaning that I'll have to call him
within the next few hours, thanks to the time difference. Of
course, I'll wait until everybody is distracted so I can slip away to
the house, lest anybody overhear the sappy endearments that I'm prone
to when separations come between the two of us. I *do* have a
manly reputation to uphold, after all.
"Let me guess," Exene says, looking over at me with a smile.
"You're thinking about the Boy Wonder again."
"Um . . . yeah. It's that obvious, huh?"
"You have that goofy grin on your face, the kind that I never quite
inspired," she teases.
I have to laugh. "You have a new husband to inspire now.
He's younger and doesn't brood like I do."
"Nobody broods like you do," she chuckles.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Good. It's meant as one." There's a peaceful silence
between us for several minutes. "You know," she remarks finally,
"I met a friend of yours yesterday."
"Really? Who?"
"Sally."
My eyebrows shoot up. "You mean Sally Steinman? Our
adoption case handler?"
Exene nods. "One and the same."
"You met with her already? Damn, that was fast." Four days
ago, I had given Sally a list of eight people she could interview as
references for me and Orlando. Exene was at the top of the list,
since she's known me for almost two decades and, quite frankly, knows
better than anyone about my parenting abilities.
"Well, she called and wanted to know when I could come in for an
interview. I said that I was pretty flexible, so I went to meet
with her yesterday."
"And?" I take a sip of my lemonade in an attempt to disguise my
nervousness. Like that'll fool Exene, of all people.
"Don't worry, Viggo. I didn't reveal anything damning.
Besides, she's insanely nice. She even gave me banana-nut muffins
while we were talking. It didn't really feel like an interview,
more like two girls having a chat."
"What *did* you tell her?"
"Just that you're an amazing father," she says with a fond smile.
"I told her that even when you had difficulty with your career, or when
we were splitting up, you never let it affect how devoted you were to
Henry. I think that by the time I left, she was ready to nominate
you for sainthood, never mind approving you and Orli for adopting a
child."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, it's not every day that someone's ex-wife gives glowing
testimony about them. But I told her that we don't have any
bitterness between us, and we've always had the same priority, which is
our son."
"Did she ask about Orli?"
"Yup. I told her all about how he gradually became one of the
most important people in Henry's life, and how much my they adore each
other. I said that if he could deal with a stubborn, know-it-all
teenager, he should have no problems with a baby."
I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Ex."
She reaches over and clasps my hand in hers. "You know I'm here
for you guys. You've taken a lot of shit, and I'll do whatever I
can to make sure you get the happiness you deserve."
"Thank you," I say again. I squeeze her hand before releasing it,
feeling so fortunate to have her as a friend.
"Just promise me one thing."
"Whatever you want."
"Don't make me change any diapers. I fucking hate baby poop."
"No diapers for Exene," I laugh. "Got it."
*****
After a few more hours, the heat grows tedious and we all scurry inside
in search of air conditioning. Dom decides that he wants a nap,
so he plops down on the living room couch and promptly falls
asleep. Exene goes into the studio to inspect my latest
creations. That leaves me in the kitchen with Henry, Jemila, and
Lij, who are already talking animatedly about something while they
vanquish a bag of potato chips.
"Dad, you have to hear about this! Elijah is fucking crazy!"
Henry cackles.
"You didn't already know that?" I ask.
"Ha ha, very funny," Lij smirks.
"I don't think it's crazy," Jemila counters. "I think it's sweet."
"Of course you think that. You're a girl," Henry teases.
Jemila promptly smacks him upside the head, and I bite back my laughter
at my son's sullen pout. He deserved that. "Stop being an
asshole, Henry," she says in her sweetest voice.
"This is all very entertaining," I tell them, "but can you tell me why
you think Lij is crazy?"
"They're making fun of me because I want to get back together with my
ex-girlfriend," Lij grumbles.
"What ex-girlfriend? You haven't had the time to date anyone in
ages."
"Don't you remember that really cute girl from New Zealand I dated when
we were filming?"
"You mean four years ago?" I laugh. "Sure I do. What was
her name, Amy? Andrea?"
"Anne." Lij gets a goofy, lovestruck look in his eyes.
"Anne Mallory."
"So what's wrong with wanting to get back together with her?" I ask
Henry.
"Because he got the idea from a dream! That's pretty dumb."
"A dream?" I repeat.
"Well, I had this dream the other night that Anne and I were married
with a bunch of kids. Then I woke up and found myself upset that
we hadn't kept in contact. So I'm going to see if I can look her
up. There can only be so many Anne Mallorys in Wellington, right?"
"See? That's so romantic!" Jemila sighs.
"It's insanity, not romance," Henry argues. "What's he going to
say to her? 'Hey, I know we broke up, but I think we should go
out again because I dreamed that it was a good idea'?"
"It is a little bizarre," I chuckle.
"Look, we broke up for practical reasons," Lij informs us. "She
was going to school in Wellington, and I have my career here. And
as for it being bizarre, you're one to talk, Viggo."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"All I know is that *I'm* not the one who gets their kicks by having
their boyfriend pretend to be Legolas in bed," he giggles. Will
the boy never learn to keep his mouth shut?
"Ew! Dad, that's so weird!" Henry exclaims. I'd be worried
that he's been traumatized by this new nugget of information, but he
has a shit-eating grin on his face. Jemila is trying very hard
not to crack up, and is avoiding all eye contact with me.
"Elijah Jordan Wood . . ."
"Sorry! I didn't mean to–"
"You never mean to do any of it," I sigh. "But I think you're
responsible for half of my gray hairs."
"And the other half?" Henry asks.
"You caused those," I snort.
"Good. That's my proudest accomplishment."
"Well, I still have plenty of hair that *isn't* gray, I remind him."
Henry winks. "Not for long, if I have anything to say about it."
*****
"Hello, you've reached Orlando's House of Orgasms!"
I blink. "Um . . . Orli?"
"What, you don't like my greeting?"
"No, I like it. But what would you have done if it was someone
else on the other line?"
Orli laughs. "Viggo, haven't you ever heard of Caller ID?
It's a terrific invention. Even *I* know how to work it."
"Very funny, elf boy. Still, you know that it could have been
Henry calling from this number. Or even one of the people who
came over today."
"Yeah, then I would have felt like an idiot," he admits.
"Especially if it were Henry."
"Don't worry, he already learned about our Legolas/Aragorn
roleplaying," I sigh.
"What?" he squeaks. "How?"
"You have one guess."
"Elijah!" There's an aggravated sigh at the other end of the
line. "I'm going to murder him with my bare hands."
"Don't do that, love. Peter needs him for the DVD
commentary. Besides, I'm sure that there are much better things
for you to do with your hands."
"Really? Like what?" he purrs.
I smirk and lean back on the bed. "You should be able to think of
something. Or has all the blood left your brain already?"
"Oh, you are *such* a wanker."
"Literally and figuratively, my darling," I tease.
"So, can we pretend that it's a perfect weekend morning and I'm just
waking up to find your morning erection nestled between my naked arse
cheeks?"
I groan. "I think we can pretend that." With a quick push
of a button, I put him on speakerphone so I can have my hands free.
"I rub back against you, feeling your cock twitch. Your arms come
around me, and I know that you're awake. We're both naked from
last night's shag, and it feels so good to have your body wrapped
around mine." A shiver runs through my body as he talks, but I
stay silent. This is Orlando's fantasy, and it's enough for me to
hear his smooth, sinful voice take me through the mental images.
"You start nibbling at the back of my neck," he continues, "while your
hand starts to slowly wank me. I'm so hard at this point . . .
just like I am now. Are you hard, Vig?"
"Yes," I hiss.
"Take out your cock," Orli orders. "I want to hear you touching
yourself."
My pants and boxers are immediately shoved down to my knees. I
sigh with both relief and desire as I close my palm around my
now-throbbing erection. It's amazing how little it takes for him
to get me going; having him as my boyfriend is like possessing the most
potent aphrodisiac in the world.
"I'm touching myself," I tell him dutifully.
"Let me hear it." His voice is low and breathy, the sound of it
making me close my eyes so I can imagine that he's right next to me.
Doing as he's asked, I slide my hand up and down the length of my cock,
my breath hitching at how good it feels. A few beads of precome
trickle out of the slit, and I use my thumb to smear them around,
wondering if Orli would lick it up if he were here. "I'm so
hard," I groan. "God, I wish you were here."
"So do I," he sighs.
"I'm dripping for you, Orli."
"Shit . . ." He lets out his own groan. "I'm wanking myself
for you. You always make me so bloody hard, Viggo."
"Tell me about your fantasy," I plead.
"I had this whole seduction scene planned in my head for our
conversation." Orli admits. "But now that I'm listening to you
fist your cock, knowing how hard we both are, I just want to skip
straight to the main event."
"Which would be?"
"Your prick buried deep in my arse," he purrs. I shiver and moan,
giving my erection a quick squeeze. At the other end of the line,
there's a husky laugh in response. "Oh, you like the sound of
that?"
"Yes," I gasp.
"You want to feel me clenching around you, nothing but heat and
tightness surrounding your throbbing cock?"
"Unggh!"
"I'm sorry?" I can picture the cheeky grin that must be on his
face, right down to the gleam in his eye. In my defense, though,
phone sex with my insanely hot lover isn't conducive to articulate
conversations.
"Orlando . . . keep going," I beg. Well, at least *that* was
fairly articulate.
He obliges. "You're fucking me, Vig. Shit, it feels so
good!"
"How good, baby? What am I doing?"
"We're spooning as you take me from behind; one of your hands is on my
cock." His soft gasps let me know that I might have turned the
tables on him.
"How am I fucking you? Hard?"
"No, just slow and deep thrusts. I have my head tilted back so
you can kiss me."
"Mmm . . . can I suck on your tongue?"
Orli groans. "Yeah. And then you start shoving into me a
little harder. I can tell from your rhythm that you're going to
come soon, and so will I."
"Who comes first?" I pant.
"I do. You start pumping my cock furiously . . ." His words
fade off into a cry as he doubtlessly imitates his fantasy.
"Are you close, love?" I ask, picturing Orli's hand twisting and
sliding up the length of his cock.
"So close," he mewls. "I need it. Need to come with you!"
My own hand becomes a force of nature as I stroke myself in time with
him. All I can hear in the room are our combined sounds of lust
as we push ourselves towards completion. His almost-tortured
moans are driving me crazy; I wish fervently that I could hear those
moans coming directly from his luscious mouth, and not out of a
telephone.
Unlike what happens in the fantasy, I'm the one who ends up climaxing
first. I'm too consumed with my need for him. My eyes are
tightly closed, and I try to imagine that my cock is trapped inside of
Orli's body instead of within my own hand. It works well enough;
sticky warmth splashes over my fist and onto my stomach as I come,
groaning his name over and over.
When my mind is able to think clearly again, I pick up the sounds of
him crying out with pleasure at the other end of the line. "Yes .
. . fuck, Viggo!" he wails. Then all is silent on his end except
for some soft panting.
"Was that good for you?" I tease.
"I can't think. My brain is a puddle," he grunts.
"Your voice is so sexy, Orlando. I don't think you have any idea
what kind of effect it has on me."
"I'd say that's only fair, given how your voice is a lethal weapon."
"I miss you," I blurt out.
Orli sighs. "Miss you more, old man. Miss you so much that
it hurts."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," I whisper, blinking away sudden tears.
"But you're coming to visit me, right?"
I nod, even though I know that he can't see me do it. "In two
weeks. And then two weeks after that, you'll be home."
"Not soon enough. It's never soon enough."
"I love you, prissy elf." I swallow hard in an effort to
alleviate that familiar tightening feeling in my chest. It seems
to strike me every time I miss Orli.
"I love you, too. Forever and ever, filthy human."
"Good night, baby."
"Good night, Vig."
Heart
and Shoulder Part 21
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