Why does doing nothing take so much energy? All I'm doing is lying on my bed and listening to music, and I still feel exhausted. It's not like I had a particularly strenuous day on the set, but I'm as worn out as if I had just run a ten kilometer race. The bullshit that comes along with being a 'budding star' is really too much sometimes.
I am such a wanker. Look at all the stuff I've been blessed with -- the movie roles, the friends I've made, the wonderful boyfriend -- and yet I still find stuff to complain about. Come on, Bloom. Get your head out of your arse and start enjoying yourself.
The thing is that when I dreamed of being a successful actor, I really didn't expect all of this nonsense to be a part of the package. Yeah, that probably made me really naive, but it's the truth. I never thought that tabloid photographers would ever want pictures of a kid from Canterbury, or that anyone would ever give a shit whether or not I'm a vegetarian. Does it truly matter to people whether or not I'm gay, straight, or anything in between? Is the fact that my dad isn't my *biological* father really important to anyone other than me and my family? It's like I signed some contract to be an actor, but I didn't read the fine print about what came along with it.
Oh, joy. The phone in my room is ringing. This is why I keep my mobile phone turned off at all times now and only check my voice mail once or twice a day. I hope this is an important call, because I'm not in the mood for idle chit-chat at the moment. "Hello?"
"You sound like you've been shot by Lurtz."
A grin immediately comes across my face unbidden. "Thanks for the pick-me-up, Sean."
Bean chuckles at the other end of the line. "Anytime. So why do you sound so glum? What happened to the cheery Orlando I adore so much?"
"Cheery Orlando has been kidnaped by evil Hollywood stooges," I explain. "I'm now moping Orlando, who spends his evenings feeling sorry for himself. It's a hell of a lot of fun."
"It sounds like it. Listen, I have a better idea for how you can spend your Monday night."
"Does it involve ritual suicide?"
"No, it involves you and me hanging out and talking."
"I'd definitely prefer ritual suicide."
"Come on, Orlando," Sean pleads. "It'll be fun. We'll just sit around and watch the telly, talk about New Zealand, maybe even make a crank call to a hobbit or two."
"Couldn't you just come to me?" I wheedle.
"Get your lazy arse over here," he orders. "I'm stronger than you, and you'll regret it if you don't show up in five minutes."
"Okay, okay," I laugh. "Fuck, you're a pushy git sometimes. What room are you in again?"
"Room 920."
"I'll be there in two minutes. Please tell me you have alcohol."
"Enough for the whole fucking hotel, mate."
"I'm on my way."
*****
"Hey," Sean greets me with a grin as he opens the door to his room.
"Hey yourself," I say, trying to inject some cheer into my voice.
"Well, you look even worse than you sound."
"Thanks so much," I laugh.
"No problem. Come on in."
The telly is already on, and I can hear someone shuffling around in the other room of his suite. "Who's here? I thought that just the two of us were going to hang out."
"Oh, there's been a change of plans," Sean tells me. "I hope you don't mind. A friend of mine came down here at the last minute, but he's a pretty cool bloke."
I try to hide my disappointment. "Well, that's fine." Just then, I spot a pair of *very* familiar shoes sitting by the door. They're Viggo's shoes. He's had them since before I've met him. I look up at Sean with wide eyes and he starts laughing.
"Okay, the surprise is ruined. You're boyfriend is in the other room; get in there."
"Viggo's *here*?!" Yes, my voice just squeaked.
"I'm here," calls that beloved voice. Oh my God, he *is* here!
I dash into the other room and find Viggo sitting on the bed with a grin on his face. The amount of shock and relief I feel at seeing him here is undescribable, and I can't do anything other than literally leap into his arms, pinning him to the bed and hugging him tightly. There's no frantic kissing, no excited babbling, no happy laughter, just a long, comforting embrace.
It's not as if Viggo being here suddenly makes all of my worries disappear, but it *does* make everything seem a hell of a lot more manageable. I'm always able to relax when he's around, and he never lets me lose sight of my goals. He believes in me when I don't believe in myself. And now he's here.
"You're an utterly insane man, do you know that?" I mumble against his neck.
He chuckles and tightens the embrace. "It's nice to see you, too."
I kiss his collarbone, then pull back and look at him. "How did you do this?"
"Well, it was pretty simple. I just checked with Sean to see which nights you'd be free, then drove down here--"
"You drove?! Viggo, that's a huge drive!" I exclaim. "I mean, all the way from L.A. to here, it must have taken you forever!"
"It was no big deal," he shrugs. "Henry was happy to stay at a friend's house, I arranged for someone to feed the pets, and then I got here twenty minutes ago and had Sean call you. I thought it'd be better than just showing up at your room and having you jump me in the hallway."
"You're probably right," I laugh. "And thank *you*," I tell Sean. "My God, I can't tell you how much this means to me."
"No problem," Bean says with a grin. "Just promise me you'll go back to being the same annoyingly upbeat Orli who I know and love."
"I can do that."
"Good. Now, why don't you two get out of here and let me have my bed back?" he suggests.
Viggo laughs. "Fair enough."
*****
We take the stairs back to my room instead of the lift, and luckily don't run into anyone. I nearly break the card key in my haste to get out of the hallway, but we finally make it into the sanctity of the room. I'm now alone with Viggo. The realization makes me grin and I pull him into another embrace.
"Missed you," I whisper.
"Well, I'm here," he says again.
"Yeah, and I can't believe that you are. What are you doing here, Vig? I'm done with the film in just a little more than two weeks; you couldn't wait that long?"
Viggo pulls away so that I can see him frown. "I was worried about you. On the phone you sounded so stressed and worn out . . . I thought that maybe I could make you feel a little better."
:You make me feel a *lot* better," I tell him, a smile spreading across my face. "I can't believe you did this for me." Even as I say the words, I realize that they're not true. It makes perfect sense that he did this; if I were in his position and worried about him, I'd drive mile after mile to get to him, too. That's what devotion means to us, I guess.
"You look exhausted," he murmurs. A fingertip gently traces one of the dark circles I know is lying under my eyes.
"A far cry from the pretty elf, huh?"
Viggo smiles. "Orli, you're always beautiful."
My insides promptly turn to mush. "You're the best, you know that?" I tell him as I drop a kiss on the tip of his nose.
"So you keep telling me," he chuckles.
"How long are you here for?"
"A day or two."
"Wonderful," I say with a grin. "Seriously, this is so terrific."
Viggo gives me a slow, sweet kiss. "How about we go sit on the bed?"
"Okay."
We go over to the bed for a nice cuddle and conversation, ditching our shoes and socks along the way, and I immediately wrap myself around his body in an effort to find comfort. His strong arms encircle me and his lips press against my forehead for a gentle kiss. "So," he murmurs, "how are you doing?"
"I've been better."
"That's what I thought." He brushes some stray curls away from my forehead. "Do you want to talk about anything?"
I sigh. "I don't know . . ."
"You don't have to."
"I want to, it's just that I don't even know where to start." We sit there silently for a few moments as Viggo gives me time to sort through my thoughts. "I never really thought that all of this would happen, you know?"
"All of what?"
"This." I gesture vaguely with my hand. "The whole bloody 'star' thing. I didn't think about that at all. Even when I was cast as Legolas, I thought that maybe I'd be recognized by people, but I'd never be the kind of person who would be photographed by a tabloid magazine. I mean, that shit never *occurred* to me. But it's happening now, and there are all these articles that people are writing about me, and apparently there are websites going up in my honor, and I'm getting all this fan mail, and it's ridiculous!"
"I know it is," Viggo says gently. "You live under a microscope now, Orli; we both do. And maybe it's not what we signed on for, but the bottom line is that it comes along with the job."
"But I feel like all that people are seeing in these articles is this vapid pretty boy who likes girls and wants to be a big star. I'm being sold as something that I'm not. And I'm not trying to sound ungrateful, but I'm *so* frustrated right now."
"That's understandable. Listen, you've been thrown into the fire. You've dealt with how show business works and you've learned some important lessons. This isn't always a fun profession to be involved with."
"No shit," I grouse.
He chuckles and runs a hand through my hair. "Oh, Orli. Please don't tell me you've become jaded."
"What, you want me to remain sweet and innocent?"
"Of course I want you to stay sweet," he laughs. "I'm not sure if you were ever innocent."
I have to grin. "No, I probably never was."
"So are you totally disillusioned now?"
"I'm not quite the hardened cynic that you are," I tease, trailing my fingers down his arm. "But I'm certainly not as naive as I was a year or two ago. I know what a strange business this is, and that you're a commodity as much as you are a performer."
"That's definitely true."
"And I'm just worn out," I admit. "I've made eight movies in the last four years, and I'm exhausted. I know that I had planned to take some time off after 'Troy', and I really have to do that. I *need* a break."
"I know you do," he says with concern in his eyes. "And you deserve one."
"But I've also decided that I should cut back in general."
Viggo frowns. "What do you mean?"
"I only want to do, like, one film a year. I want to spend more time with you and have more time for myself. And if we're going to have a child, I don't want to be off on a movie set all the time," I tell him earnestly.
"But Orli, you *love* acting."
"I'm not quitting my career, for God's sake. I just want to make sure that I also get to be with my family; that's what's important to me, Vig." I lean forward to give him a little kiss. "I need to make sure that I have my priorities straight."
"I think your priorities are just fine," he tells me with a smile. "Trust me, I've met people who've put their careers ahead of their families, and you're not one of them. I never doubt how you feel about me just because you're away."
"Still . . . I'm going to see if I can preserve what's left of my sanity by not making quite so many films. There's no need to drive myself to exhaustion like this."
"No, there definitely isn't," he agrees. "I was worried about you when we spoke on Thursday night. You sounded so worn out, and I had never heard you like that."
"Yeah, it's insane," I sigh. Part of it is the film and part of it is stress from the other nonsense. I guess that I'll get used to the other nonsense, though. And I'm sorry for worrying you Viggo. I'm really okay, but I'm just a bit strung out right now."
"It's okay, love." He kisses me, his arms pulling me closer. "I just want to do whatever I can to de-stress you."
"You've already done *so* much," I assure him. "Really, it feels like a weight has been lifted since you got here."
"Good."
He smiles and I'm filled with an urge to kiss him senseless. The man is just too sweet for his own good. I give into my craving, swooping in to kiss him firmly while I hold him close to me. The only noise he makes is a little sigh of satisfaction, which sounds insanely erotic for some reason. Probably because I haven't had sex in six weeks, and *any* noise he makes could be considered erotic at this point.
"What was that for?" Viggo asks when the kiss ends, amusement shining in his eyes.
"Just for being the most incredible boyfriend in the world." I grin and slide closer to him, rubbing my foot against the cuff of his worn jeans. "And for looking very yummy right now."
"I look yummy?" he laughs.
"Yes."
"I'm not sure anyone's ever called me yummy before."
"Well, I'm calling you yummy now. So deal with it."
He laughs harder. "Okay, I'll deal with it."
I entwine our hands together and kiss him again, my tongue dipping into his mouth to slide along his own. A low moan comes from his mouth, making me shiver as the intensity of our kiss rises. There's passion here, but no frenzy; what I need tonight isn't something that's hard and fast, it's something that instead will simply give me comfort and love. That might sound like a syrupy-sweet thing for a guy to want, but I don't care. I'm at the end of my rope and I need my Viggo.
He seems to understand this implicitly, pulling his hands from mine so he can open my trousers and reach into my boxers to close a hand around my cock. I gasp and thrust into his fist, my palms running down his back as his mouth moves to my neck, licking and sucking at my skin. My shirt is tossed aside while his hand continues to stroke my cock, then he stops what he's doing just long enough to remove my trousers and skivvies.
"I shouldn't be the only one naked," I tell him with a smile.
"Then do something about it," Viggo challenges.
My grin widens and I decide to turn the tables. Rolling on top of him, I pull off his shirt and slide down to run my tongue over the broad expanse of his chest, making circles around his nipples until they harden into little peaks. His breath hitches as I move my mouth lower, bestowing feather-light kisses along the trail of hair that leads to the waistband of his jeans. I look up at him and smile before dragging down the zipper of his jeans with my teeth.
Viggo moans softly, his eyes fixed on me as I finish taking off his clothes. "You're beautiful," I murmur before placing a kiss to his inner thigh. "God, you're so sexy." The only response he can manage is a gasp, especially when I move up to take his cock into my mouth and suck gently at the hard, hot flesh.
His hands come down to run through my curls, not trying to guide me in any sense, only to touch me. I take him in almost all the way, running my tongue along the sensitive vein on the underside as I keep sucking him. Pulling back so that only the head is in my mouth, I swirl my tongue around the slit so I can collect the drops of precome and savor his taste. I love to taste him this way. Still, I don't want him to get too close to orgasm; I have something else in mind for us.
I'm not surprised that he whines in protest when I pull my mouth off of his cock. Laughing softly, I move down to lick and nuzzle his balls, inhaling the scent of warm skin. Viggo draws in a sharp breath as I slide my tongue around the entrance to his body. "Orli, please," he whispers.
If this were any other night, maybe I'd be cheeky and tease him for a minute of two, but he's done so much for me tonight that he really deserves this treat. I open him with my tongue, feeling is body relax to let me in; his taste is absolutely intoxicating as always, so I delve my tongue as deep into him as I can. The moans and gasps above me tell me that I'm doing this very well indeed, and I realize that I should probably stop before Viggo comes from this.
"No, don't stop," he gasps when I pull away.
"I want to make love to you," I tell him in an unsteady voice. "Please tell me that you brought lube."
"It's in my bag."
I go over to retrieve the lube from his overnight bag, smiling at the sight of Viggo lying naked on the bed, legs spread and his hand lazily stroking his erection. There's a beautiful smile on his face, and it's all I can do not to pounce on him and screw him into the mattress. I slick lube over my fingers before rejoining him on the bed, sliding fingers into his body and taking time to open him up. My fingers curl to hit his prostate, and the sound of the ragged groan he lets out goes straight to my throbbing cock.
The fingers slip out of him and lube is slathered over my erection. I finally enter him, our eyes locking for a gaze that shouts 'I love you' without making a sound. Being surrounded by so much heat and tightness is overwhelming, and I gasp as I sink into his body, amazed how something so comfortingly familiar can still feel so thrilling to me every time. The look of his skin flushed from arousal, the feeling of his body trapping me inside of him, the sounds he makes -- they never fail to drive me wild.
Bracing my hands on either side of his head, I start to make love to him with long, deep strokes. He pulls me down for a kiss and I eagerly respond, my tongue tangling with his own. One of his hands runs gently through my curls while the other slides down my back towards my arse, urging me deeper into his body. Never one to deny such a request, I shift my position slightly so that I pass over his prostate.
Viggo lets out a soft cry into our kiss, the sound spurring me on to thrust a bit harder. I pull my mouth from his with some reluctance and quicken the pace of our lovemaking, watching him struggle to keep his eyes open. He's so incredibly gorgeous like this and he doesn't have a bloody clue about it. "Touch yourself," I hear myself saying to him in a husky voice.
He wraps a hand around his cock, managing to stroke it in time with my thrusts. One of my hands joins his, and we both stroke him while my mouth occupies itself with kissing him senseless. Very soon he's groaning, and there's a splash of hot stickiness on our hands and stomachs. His muscles clamp down with delicious tightness on my cock, and I break our kiss to gasp for breath as my own orgasm starts bearing down on me.
I keep moving inside of Viggo, shivering as he lifts his head just enough to drag his tongue along the whorl of my ear and suck on my earlobe. "Come for me, Orli," he whispers. That's all it takes. My mouth recaptures his for a fierce kiss and I moan loudly as I come hard, my release spilling into him. His arms hold me tightly until the last aftershocks have passed, and I press a drowsy kiss to his forehead in gratitude.
"Thank you," I murmur. "Thank you for everything."
"You're welcome," he says softly.
I pull out of him and reach over for some tissues with which to clean us up. After we're suitably clean, I toss the tissues into the rubbish bin, turn the lights out, and get under the covers with Viggo. It's been a long day and I really need some sleep now.
"So, are you feeling any better?" he asks as we settle into our normal sleeping position, with my body wrapped possessively around his.
"Actually, yes. It's not like all of this shit will go away overnight, but I feel like I can deal with it, and having you here to talk about it with is so wonderful."
"Good. I didn't think that I could stay in California knowing that you were down here feeling miserable and lonely. What kind of boyfriend would that make me?"
I laugh and kiss his chest. "Well, you're here now, at least for the night. And I'll be home in a few weeks, and neither of us is going anywhere after that. We'll be exactly where we belong -- with each other."
"That sounds about right," Viggo says with a smile. He kisses the top of my head. "Get some sleep, love. You probably have an early call tomorrow."
"Yeah, I do," I sigh. "You're right, I really should get some sleep. Besides, you're staying tomorrow night, aren't you?"
"Yes. I'll stick around until Wednesday morning *if* you go to sleep now. You need to get rid of those circles under your eyes."
I have to smile at his concern. "Okay, that's a fair deal. Good night, Vig."
"Good night, Orli. I love you so much."
"I love you, too," I tell him gently, kissing his shoulder. "More than I could ever say."
His arms wrap tightly around me, and sleep quickly descends upon my
tired body. I know that I'll get through all of this petty stuff
and that none of this nonsense matters in the long run. What really
matters are my friends, my family, and the incredible man lying next to
me. As long as I have those things, then I'll be alright.
