"Who was on the phone?" I look up sharply as Orli comes into the room.
"No one," I lie as I place the cordless phone back in its cradle. "Just a wrong number."
He looks at me skeptically. "A wrong number?"
"Yeah."
"Then why were you on the phone for five minutes?"
"Um . . . I was looking at the phone book to help them find the right number." Shit, just stop talking, Viggo.
"I don't see the phone book," he says with a grin.
"Well--"
"C'mon, who was really on the phone? Were you planning a secret tryst with an illicit lover?" he teases.
"Hardly," I chuckle. "Really, don't worry about who called."
"Viggo, spill it. Who was on the phone?"
"Just a magazine. They want to do a little piece on me."
"Really? That's so cool!" He sits down cross-legged on the bed with me. "About your acting? Your artwork?"
"It's just sort of about me in general."
"Which magazine?"
"'People'."
"Wow! Like a cover story or something?" Orli looks excited by this prospect, and I have to smile. "That would be so amazing to have my boyfriend on the cover of 'People'!"
"They're not putting me on the cover, Orli."
"So what's the deal then?"
"Well, you know how every year they have that 50 Most Beautiful People in the World list?" I'm blushing furiously.
"They named you to that?!"
"Yeah."
"Jesus Christ, that's terrific!"
"It's really not that big of a deal."
"Yeah, it is! My only question is why they're even bothering to put forty-nine other people on the list when you're the only one who matters."
I roll my eyes. "Stop it. It's just some stupid thing they do to sell magazines; it doesn't mean anything."
"Bollocks. It means that now you have to believe me when I tell you what a handsome hunk you are, because the editors of a huge magazine agree with me. Guys like Tom Cruise and George Clooney had better watch their backs -- Viggo Mortensen is the new ultimate sex symbol!"
"You're insane."
Orli straddles me and wraps his arms around my body. "Oh, those eyes! That smile!" he exclaims in a ridiculous falsetto. "I swoon from your beauty! No mere mortal should possess such a seductive cleft in the chin!"
"Why do I put up with you?"
"You're too sexy for your shirt, so sexy it hurts!" he sings off-key. "You're too sexy for Milan, too sexy for Milan, New York and Japan!"
"I hate you."
"Your beauty turned me from the horible world of heterosexuality and showed me the true path of being ravished by manly men!"
"Enough, Orli," I urge.
"Your sexiness gives the world hope in troubled times! Like a beacon, it shines across the seas!"
"I never should have told you about this . . ."
*****
"Thanks a lot, Dad," Henry says sarcastically as he walks into the kitchen.
"What'd I do?" I ask.
"Orli told me you're part of that 50 Most Beautiful People list this year."
I shoot a murderous glare at my boyfriend, who just grins unrepentantly. "Okay, and what's the problem?"
"The problem is that now all the girls at school will want to go out with *you* instead of with me. This is great."
"Henry, I didn't exactly call them and ask to be put on the list. They just chose me because of the whole 'Lord of the Rings' deal. Otherwise, they never would have looked at me twice."
"Yeah, but it's so weird that you're on the list. I mean, I read that thing evey year and I can't believe my *dad* is going to be part of it."
"Hey, just be glad that you got part of his gene pool, kid," Orli tells him.
"Then why hasn't anyone ever called *me* ruggedly handsome?" Henry demands.
"Because you're *fourteen*," I remind him.
"It's still not fair," he says. "But mark my words, Dad -- when I grow up, I'm gonna be way more handsome than you."
"I'm sure you will be."
*****
"You were actually named to the 50 Most Beautiful list?" Dom laughs.
"Let me guess -- Orli told you," I sigh.
"Yeah. He was bragging for about five minutes."
"He's acting like I've won the Nobel Peace Prize," I say with a grin.
"So are you the cover boy for the magazine?"
I laugh. "Of course I'm not. That honor is usually reserved for superstars like Brad Pitt and Denzel Washington."
"How does this thing work? They just call you and say you've been picked?"
"Basically. They wanted me to talk about my looks; you know, what I like and don't like about how I look. I told them I was uncomfortable doing that."
"Viggo Mortensen, the world's most reluctant sex symbol," he teases.
"The whole thing is just weird, Dom. Before I did 'Rings', I never got recognized on the street and no one really cared that much about who I am. But now . . ."
"Now you're the star of a huge blockbuster, and you've got a following. A lot of people would kill for that."
"I'm not complaining, and I don't mean to sound ungrateful," I tell him. "It's just hard to get used to."
"Well, I'd like to know why *you* were named and I was omitted. I'm much more beautiful than you are."
"I guess once of the editors has a crush on me or something. That's probably how these things are decided. It's all subjective bullshit, after all."
"Bullshit indeed. How could they leave me out? I have the most beautiful gray eyes in the entire world. But they ignore that and go with the sword-wielding poet."
"I'm sorry," I chuckle. "I wasn't aware that this meant so much to you."
"Just do me a favor."
"What?"
"If they call you again next year, tell them you're not interested and they should pick me in your place."
"No problem."
*****
"What's so funny?" Orli calls from the kitchen.
"Come look at the email Beanie sent me." Orli walks into the living room and peers at my laptop, reading the little note Sean felt compelled to send.
From: smbblades@yahoo.co.uk
To: Viggo1028@aol.com
Subject: How To Be a Sex Symbol
Congratulations on being named one of 'People Magazine's' 50 Most Beautiful
People in the World! On behalf of Sex Symbols worldwide, I would
like to welcome you to our exclusive club of manly beauty and give you
some tips on how to be the best Sex Symbol you can be.
#1: Pick movie roles that capitalize on your gorgeousness by employing
multiple close-ups
#2: Pick movie roles that require you to take off your clothes . .
. oh wait, you've already mastered that tip
#3: Strut a little when you walk
#4: In your case, never be without a cowboy hat in case an adoring
fan wants you to put it on
#5: Keep your sword sharp -- or in my case, keep it 'Sharpe' (haha,
get it? never mind)
#6: Always look surprised when someone calls you sexy . . . although
you've already mastered that tip as well
#7: Be prepared for your devotees to swoon upon meeting your handsome
self in person
#8: Do not be alarmed when knickers are thrown at you
#9: Watch 'Zoolander'. Learn from 'Zoolander'. Be 'Zoolander'
Hopefully, these tips will ease your path now that you are officially
a Sex Symbol
Sincerely,
Sean Bean, President of Sex Symbols worldwide
"He's nutters," Orli laughs.
"Completely," I agree.
"But I do like the idea of you strutting when you walk. Especially if you're wearing those tight jeans I love so much."
"Yeah, and thankfully I've got you around to 'keep my sword sharp.'"
His eyes light up. "Ooh, does this mean I get to do that now? I haven't done any sword-swallowing in a few days."
I laugh. "Go ahead."
*****
You know, the people who made up that list don't know what they're talking about," I remark as I watch Orli get undressed for bed.
"What do you mean?" He has a brief battle with his tee-shirt before managing to deposit it in the hamper, along with his socks and jeans. Clad only in his boxers, he joins me under the covers. "What's wrong with the list?"
"I'm going to have to write them a letter about the fact that they forgot to include the most dazzlingly beautiful person alive," I tell him as I place my book on the nightstand.
His forehead scrunches up adorably as he frowns in confusion. "Who's that?"
"You." I cup his face in my hands and smile. "You're incredibly beautiful, inside and out."
"Vig . . ." He blushes and shifts a bit. "You're my *boyfriend*. Of course you'd think that."
"You think I'm the only person who sees you as beautiful?"
He shrugs. "I don't know."
"Orli, you're absolutely gorgeous," I tell him, brushing my thumb over one of his cheeks. "The first time I ever saw you, I couldn't believe how beautiful you were. You took my breath away, love."
"Really?" he asks shyly.
"Really. And you still take my breath away; you're even more beautiful to me now than you were the day we met. I could look at you for hours and never get tired of it."
"I feel the exact same way about you." He turns his face so he can kiss my palm, and I shiver a little from the contact.
"Do you remember after our fight in New Zealand how you 'worshiped' me?" I ask. "How you told me all the things you love about my body?"
"Of course."
"Well, since 'People Magazine' chose the wrong Fellowship member for their little list, I have to make sure that you know just how beautiful you really are. So it's my turn to worship you. Will you let me do that?"
"Yes," he breathes. His eyes flutter closed as I lean forward to kiss him, and his mouth opens to me immediately, letting my tongue slide against his own.
"I love your mouth," I murmur as I pull away to trail kisses along his jawline. "When you smile, it's impossible for me to be upset. When you kiss me, I can never doubt how much you love me." I flick his earlobe with my tongue and he sighs, melting into my embrace. "I love how soft and warm your skin is, how it feels under my mouth and hands. And you have the most flawless cheekbones, love. They're perfect."
"Your eyes are so beautiful, Orlando. I love the way they light up when you're happy about something; I love the emotions they reveal when we make love." I kiss both of his closed eyelids. "Open your eyes," I whisper. He looks at me and smiles. "Beautiful," I say again.
"I love to kiss every part of you I can," I continue. I capture his lips again before sliding down to press a kiss to the hollow of his throat. He arches against me a bit and whimpers, making me chuckle against his hot skin. "I love the sounds you make when I touch you. The sighs, the moans . . . I love knowing that I'm the only one who makes you whimper like this."
Orli pulls my head up and kisses me deeply. "You're the only one," he says softly. I look at his face, its beauty augmented by the love and desire I can see in his eyes, and fall just a little bit further in love with him.
"You're beautiful," I tell him again. "I know I've told you that countless times, but it's true."
"I've been told that a lot, and not just by you," he says. He's not being conceited about it, since it's the truth -- people are always telling him how gorgeous he is. "But I only believe it when you tell me."
We kiss slowly and I lay him down against the pillows. "I love your hands," I say, picking them up and kissing each finger. "I love that they never stay still, that they reflect your enthusiasm about so many things. I love your arms, I love how they feel when they're wrapped around me." My lips brush over the tattoo on his forearm. "I love the Fellowship tattoo that we share; it reminds me of those incredible fifteen months in New Zealand when we first fell in love."
"I love every part of you. I love your chest." My mouth bestows kisses along his collarbone and chest, licking his nipples. Orli inhales sharply and runs his hands along my back. "You know how much I love your little sun tattoo," I murmur, tracing its circumference with my tongue. "I love your legs; I love to wake up with our legs entwined." I kiss down his thighs and calves, sucking gently at the ticklish spot behind his knee that only I know about.
Orli lifts his hips and allows me to remove his boxers, leaving him completely naked. "I love your cock," I tell him, my finger tracing a line up his erect shaft. "I love to have it in my mouth, to taste you and make you moan." I lean down and suckle at the head, letting the drops of precum roll around my tongue. He groans and bucks his hips, and I allow his cock to slip into my throat, reveling in the small tremors that I can feel pass through his body. But I don't want him to come this way, so I pull my mouth off of him.
"I love to have you inside of me," I say softly, "connecting us, making us one." I strip off my shirt and boxers as Orli leans over and fetches the lube from its hiding place. He pushes me gently to my back and kisses me with the utmost tenderness as slick fingers slowly stretch me. My fingers wrap around his curls and pull him closer in an effort to deepen the kiss.
When his fingers crook and brush against my prostate, I break the kiss to gasp. "Feel good?" Orli asks, his voice tinged with amusement and arousal.
"Feels fucking wonderful," I laugh.
He leans down and kisses me again, his tongue exploring my mouth and muffling my groan of displeasure as his fingers slip out of me. My hand fumbles blindly for the lube, grabbing the small tube and squeezing some of the gel onto my hand so I can apply it to Orli's erection. His breath quickens as I coat his dripping cock, and his eyes turn almost black with desire when I lie back and spread my legs wide in invitation.
The first push into my body makes both of us moan, and I'm overwhelmed by the feeling of being claimed by him. He sets a slow and gentle rhythm punctuated by deep kisses after every few thrusts. One of his hands comes to rest on my cheek and I nuzzle into the touch. I keep my eyes open, looking up at the rapture written across his face. Absolutely beautiful.
Our mouths meet for another kiss, fingers entwining as he continues to make love to me. There's a bit more urgency to the pace now; I can tell that Orli's been on the edge since entering me, and I'm not far behind. He bends down to kiss my neck, nipping at the skin while his hand slides down my body and wraps around my cock. "I love you," he says.
"I love you, too."
His breath becomes ragged as he lifts his head and looks at me, and I know my eyes are reflecting the love I can see in his. I pull him down for a deep kiss, wanting to feel that connection. A few moments later, I feel his body shudder and he moans into my mouth as he comes. The sensations of his warmth inside of me, his tongue tangling with my own, and his hand still stroking my erection bring me to my own climax. I come with a muffled cry, my fingers tightening in his hair.
When Orli slides out of me, I hand him our trusty wet-naps so we can clean my come off of our stomachs, and then he drapes his body around mine like he always does after sex. I smile and run a hand through his damp and disheveled curls. "Do you feel properly worshiped?" I ask.
He laughs and kisses my neck. "I do."
"Good."
"You know, Vig," he says after a few minutes, "I've decided that you're right -- that magazine is clueless."
I chuckle. "Why do you say that?"
"Because they don't know what makes you such a truly beautiful person." Orli looks up at me. "Sure, they can talk about your eyes or your smile, but that's not the point. The reason why Viggo Mortensen is such a beautiful man is because of who he is, not what he looks like. You're beautiful because you're passionate about so many things, because I've never met anyone else like you, because you're brilliant, because you love your son more than life itself, because you're the best partner I could ever ask for."
"Orli . . ." I feel at a loss for words. "Thank you," I say simply.
He smiles. "You're welcome."
We lie there contented, not needing to say any more words tonight.
I slowly fall asleep, knowing that tomorrow morning I'll wake up once again
in the arms of the most beautiful man in the world.
