TITLE: Some Kind of Heaven (19/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Three years and still going strong (Alternating POV)
FEEDBACK: It's the sauce on my steak, it's the cheese in my cake
WARNINGS: Smut + Sap = Smap
DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination
ARCHIVE: Help yourself, just drop me a line so I can brag to my friends
AUTHOR'S NOTES: ***** denotes a POV change
DATE WRITTEN: August 10th, 2003
Today is our third anniversary.
There are only a few dates that have been really important in my life. The day I got into Guildhall and the day I was cast as Legolas are two examples, but the most important date of all was November 12th, 1999. That's the day I woke up, went to the set, got into costume, battled a cave troll, and began my relationship with the man who is the love of my life.
I was absolutely convinced that Viggo could never see me as anything more than a friend, but he told me that he loved me and wanted to be with me, and the rest is history. It hasn't always been the easiest relationship in the world; the stretches of time we spend apart because of our careers can be extremely difficult, to say nothing of the seven month breakup that nearly cost us our entire relationship. In addition, it can be frustrating to keep what we have together a secret, although I no longer resent the fact that Viggo has had difficulty with the issue of coming out.
We've faced a number of challenges together, but nothing has been able to truly tear us apart. In a strange way, I almost feel as if the breakup solidified our connection and proved to us that we can survive whatever problems come our way in the future. When it's time for us to come out, I know that no amount of criticism or bigotry that's directed towards us will destroy what we have.
I feel like the luckiest man in the world to have Viggo by my side. He is the most kind, caring, and supportive partner that I could ever ask for. He never judges or patronizes me, and he always makes me feel incredibly special; he has faith in me when I don't have faith in myself, and he inspires me to be the best person that I can. He is a beautiful, brilliant man who is dedicated to bringing happiness to those he loves, and who has made *me* happier than I ever though possible.
I know that I'm gushing, but it *is* my anniversary, and I think I'm allowed to wax lyrical for a few minutes -- especially since last year at this time I was downing a bottle of vodka and watching Viggo's movies before crying myself to sleep. Also, I'm leaving to start filming 'Pirates of the Caribbean' in just three days, and I always get mushy before being separated from Viggo. And let's face it: I've never really needed an excuse to rave about him.
It's *our* day today. Henry is at Exene's house this week, and the ringer is off on the telephone so no one interrupts us. The only thing we've done so far today is each other. He woke me up by bringing me blueberry pancakes (and how sweet is that?); then we took a shower together, solely to conserve water (wink, wink). Our lovemaking tally for the day stands at two. It's almost dinnertime now, and the only clothes we've put on have been our boxers.
Okay, allow me a little more time to gush. Viggo is the coolest guy in the world. He hates to be called a Renaissance Man, but that's what he is. He's passionate about so many things, from politics to poetry, and his eyes literally light up when he talks about something or someone he loves. He's gorgeous, he's sexy, he's amazing in bed; he has a completely deranged sense of humor that I absolutely adore. He's spontaneous, he's loving, he's gorgeous, he's insane, he's wonderful. He's mine.
*****
"Who called?" Orli asks as I return to the bedroom after checking the answering machine.
"We got Happy Anniversary calls from both of our mothers, Atti, Pete and Fran, Henry and Exene, Samantha, and the entire Fellowship," I laugh.
"Wow. I guess we'll call them all back tomorrow to say thank you."
"Mm-hmm." I rejoin him on the bed and start kissing his neck.
"Hey, Vig?" I keep kissing his wonderfully soft skin. "Viggo?"
With some reluctance, I pull away and look up at him. "Yeah?"
"Before we start going at it again," Orli teases with a grin, "I really want to give you my gift."
"Oh, alright," I sigh exaggeratedly.
"Hey, you have to give me your gift, too," he reminds me.
"I know. I'll go get it." I give him another kiss, this time on the mouth, and then run to the studio to grab my gift for Orli. "Here you go," I say breathlessly as I literally jump back onto the bed.
He laughs and takes the wrapped book from me, then hands me a plain brown shopping bag. "Don't open that yet," he orders.
"I won't," I chuckle.
"Good." He leans forward to kiss me gently. "And what's this?" he asks, examining his present.
"Open it and find out," I tell him with a grin.
Orli grins back at me and pulls off the wrapping paper. "Oh, Viggo . . . it's beautiful."
"I thought you could use it as a relationship journal."
"Did you make this yourself?" he asks. "Of course you did. Man, you're amazing." He runs his fingers over the beaded pattern that I glued onto the cover. "This is so wonderful. Thank you, Vig."
"You're welcome."
We kiss, and then Orli breaks away to examine the book some more. "I can't believe how much work you did on this," he marvels as he slowly flips through the pages.
"Well, I figured that you're going away this week and I thought that this might make it a bit easier for you. Instead of having the plain notebooks and journals that we normally use, this way you have something that I put together just for you."
"How did you do all of these different things? I mean, borders, the poems, the photographs . . ." I have to smile at the look of awe on his face.
"I made the borders with different stencils," I explain. "The poems were written with a calligraphy pen. I scanned the photographs onto the computer, printed them out, and then glued the paper replicas onto the pages."
"Did you dye the pages?" he asks.
"No," I laugh. "They were already pale yellow. I picked this journal because I know that yellow is your favorite color."
"You're the best, you know that?" He grins and kisses me soundly. "Really Viggo, this is unbelievable."
"I'm so glad you like it."
"I don't like it; I *love* it. You're right in thinking that this will make the separation easier." He carefully sets the journal down on the nightstand.
"Especially since I'm sure that it'll be pure torture being in the Caribbean, working with Johnny Depp and Geoffrey Rush," I tease.
"That's not the point," he tells me. "*You* won't be there."
"Well, that's why I made this for you."
Orli smiles and practically crawls into my lap to give me another kiss. "You are the most wonderful boyfriend in the history of the world. I may be a bit biased, but I firmly believe that there's nobody else who could ever compete with you for that title."
I laugh and pull him impossibly closer. "I think that you could win that title yourself, Orli."
He blushes and kisses me again. "Now, *you* are too biased."
"Perhaps," I say with a grin.
"Do you want your gift?"
"I would love my gift."
"Good." Orli slides off of my lap. "Happy anniversary, Vig."
I reach into the shopping bag he handed to me earlier and pull out a surprisingly heavy box. "What is this?"
"You asked me the same question," he laughs. "Open it and find out."
"Okay," I chuckle. I pull the lid off and my jaw drops open. "Did you make these?" I ask in amazement.
"Yeah." Orli's beaming with pride.
"They're beautiful," I gasp. Reaching into the box, I pull out two large, slender letters sculpted out of clay -- a 'V' hooked over an 'O'. Each one is glazed and painted light blue with tiny swirls of red, yellow, orange, and green. "I thought you stopped sculpting."
"Well, I gave it another shot for this," he says shyly. "You really like them?"
"I love them, Orli. They're absolutely wonderful."
"And look -- they're joined!" he tells me excitedly.
"It's lucky that we have those initials," I laugh.
"Yeah, I know."
I smile and put the sculpture next to the journal on the nightstand. "Where do you think we should keep this?" I ask him.
"I was thinking that it would look perfect on the bookshelf in this room. What do you think?" He looks at me expectantly.
"That sounds perfect." I pull him into my arms and kiss him right under his ear. "Thank you, love. Thank you for the sculpture and thank you for the last three years. I love you *so* much, Orlando."
He grins at me and wraps his arms around my neck. "I love you too, Viggo."
*****
"Can't you put that down?" Viggo laughs.
I look up from my new relationship journal. "No, I can't. This is so beautiful. I absolutely love it, Vig."
He grins and stretches out on the bed. "How about you put it away for just a little while?"
I debate his question for about two nanoseconds, then put the book down on the floor next to the bed. "Viggo Mortensen, are you propositioning me?"
"Isn't it obvious?" he smirks.
"Well, you'll have to forgive me, but I'm a bit slow and it's not entirely clear what you want to do."
"Oh?" Viggo rolls over so he's almost on top of me. "You need it to be spelled out?"
"Exactly." I reach up to run my fingers through his blonde hair.
"I want to make love to you, Orlando Bloom," he says with a brilliant smile. "Is that clear enough for you?"
"Yes, it is," I tell him. "Now, enough talking."
"Fine with me." His mouth descends on mine for a long, deep, sweet kiss that makes me all tingly and warm. You'd think that after three years of snogging this man, I'd be used to what a fabulous kisser he is, but nope; those kisses get me every time.
I moan slightly and sling my leg over his hip, pushing my cotton-covered erection against his own. Yes, we've already shagged twice today, but I can never get enough of him. Viggo responds to my enthusiasm by quickly stripping both of us of our boxers. Mmm, being naked makes everything better.
"It didn't take you long to get hard," Viggo chuckles.
"Well, you know what you do to me," I gasp as he begins to lick and kiss and nip his way down my neck, sucking hard right above my collarbone. Good thing I'm not getting on a plane for another few days, since I'm sure that he's leaving me with a nice little love bite. He likes to do that once in a while, and while I think it's partially a way of almost branding me as his own, it's also because he's told me that I moan beautifully when he does this.
Sure enough, I'm moaning my little head off right now, and I can feel Viggo's cock pressing insistently against my thigh. He continues moving down my body, first teasing my nipples with little licks, then dipping his tongue into my belly button. Finally, he reaches my cock and looks up to give me a grin before taking me all the way into his mouth.
I try to cry out his name, but I think that it ends up as an incoherent wail. Viggo moves his mouth up and down, lavishing his tongue over my flesh as he goes. His hands skim teasingly over my stomach as he vigorously sucks me; my fingers twist in the sheets and my hips buck up.
The only reason I don't protest when Viggo pulls his mouth off of my cock is because I know what's coming next, and I can't wait. The tube of lube is wrapped up in the tangled sheets, left there after our earlier exertions. I retrieve it and smear some of the gel onto Viggo's erection, stroking just enough to make him groan. Tossing the tube to the floor, I lay back against the pillows and urge him down as I spread my legs.
Understanding my wordless plea to forgo stretching me with his fingers, Viggo kisses me as his cock breaches my body and slides inside. He's already been inside of me today, so he enters me with relative ease; at the same time, the fact that he didn't open me first with his fingers makes me feel incredibly full. I close my eyes and my mouth falls open for a silent cry when he slowly begins to move inside of me.
Our pace is leisurely at first, but we almost end up with a hard and fast rhythm, and tonight is no exception. Viggo's hands slide under my arse, lifting me just enough so that he can strike my prostate with most of his thrusts. I'm definitely not silent anymore, and I can tell that my moans and whimpers are only spurring him on to let go of his control. His hands are gripping my hips tightly while I'm sliding my palms over his upper back, trying to touch him as much as possible.
I move one of my hands off of his body and trace my fingers lightly over my own chest, gently pinching my nipples. It has the desired effect, as Viggo's eyes widen and his thrusts get even more intense. Taking my cock in hand, I stroke it slowly in contrast with his fast pace and groan at the pleasure. One of his hands joins mine on my erection, and we both work at wanking me as he continues to drive into my body.
He lowers his head for a kiss and I respond enthusiastically, tangling my tongue around his and moaning. All of it -- the kissing, the thrusting, the stroking -- comes together and overloads my senses. With one more hard thrust and Viggo's thumb running over the head of my cock, I find my release, coming all over our joined hands and letting out a scream muffled by his mouth. He keeps up his rhythm for a few more moments until he also comes, making me gasp at the feeling of warmth spilling into me.
It takes us a bit of time to finally stop kissing and pull apart. Viggo uses his tongue to clean up the little mess I made, then pulls the sheets up around us. It's fairly late, and we should probably get some sleep after all the stress of laying around the house today.
"This was a wonderful day," he murmurs as I reach over to turn off the bedside lamp before snuggling in close to him.
"It was," I agree. "Just us lying around in our underwear -- what could be better?"
"Not much," he laughs, following up his remark with a kiss. "I love you, Orli; I'm so incredibly lucky to have you."
"I love you, too." My voice is just above a whisper. "I'm even more in love with you now than I was on that afternoon three years ago when we first got together. You're my other half, Vig, and I can't even begin to tell you how happy you make me."
Viggo smiles and runs his fingers down my cheek. "You don't need to tell me, love. I already know how you feel, because you make me happier than I ever thought possible."
I return his smile. "Good. Then we're even."
He chuckles and draws me still closer. "Oh, Orlando. What am I going to do with you?"
"Spend the rest of your life with me," I tell him simply.
His smile widens. "That's exactly what I'm planning to do."
*****
Orli is asleep. I can tell from the pattern of his breathing and the way his mouth is slightly open, as well as from that little sighing noise that he only makes when asleep. His body is curled up next to mine, with one arm flung across my chest and his head resting in the crook of my neck. This is our normal sleeping position, and I love to wake up in the morning with his body still wrapped around me.
It's after midnight now, and our anniversary has ended. Last year, I marked this day with memories and tears, thinking that I'd never celebrate another anniversary with Orli. But I somehow got lucky enough to be with him again, and I truly cherish every day that we spend together.
As wonderful as anniversaries can be, however, I almost feel as if the two of us don't need a special day set aside so that we can celebrate what we have together; we already do that all the time. We've never taken our relationship for granted, especially not after the difficulties we've been faced with. I certainly don't take him for granted, either.
Three years after falling in love with Orli and beginning our journey together, I'm still constantly amazed by what an incredible man he is. He has the most wonderful heart, and goes to great lengths to ensure the happiness of those he cares about. He's always doing little things that show me how much he loves me, even if it's just giving me a brilliant smile first thing in the morning.
Orli is an absolutely beautiful person, and the best partner I could ever wish for. He's honest, intelligent, caring, supportive . . . the list goes on and on. He dives into life and love headfirst, wanting to experience everything that he can. He has a preternatural maturity about him, but at the same time is remarkably uncynical and eternally optimistic. He has changed my life in so many ways, and I don't even want to imagine what life would have been like if I'd never met him.
Whenever I get upset about something, he's always there for me no matter what the problem is. He's helped me so much in overcoming my fears about coming out by reminding me that whatever happens, we'll face everything *together* and nothing will defeat us. I may still be wrestling with fears, but the knowledge that he'll be by my side throughout all of this has given me a newfound sense of confidence. He makes me believe that everything will work itself out as long as we stand by each other. He makes me believe in myself.
He's exuberant, he's passionate, he's infectiously joyful. He
hasn't been spoiled by his immediate success as an actor and is the same
down-to-earth man that I first fell in love with. He gives me so
much love, affection, support, and dedication. He's everything to
me, and I love him beyond belief. I always will.
