Orlando had learned not to make the same mistakes twice. Not in love, not in life. So when he awoke the next morning and stretched out his arm, the bed beside him was empty. Nothing broke the silence of the house except the sound of his own sigh of relief.
And the doorbell.
Orlando slid out of bed, wincing slightly as minor hurts made themselves known. He pulled down his boxers and stared at the bruises across his hipbones. "Ah, Sblomie," he sighed with a fond smile. He made his way sleepily to the front door and opened it. "Speak of the devil," he said, grinning into the hazy afternoon sunlight.
Dominic stepped over the threshold and wound his arms around Orlando's waist. "What I wouldn't give to wake up to this every morning," he murmured, nuzzling Orlando's throat. Orlando let his head fall back with a sigh. He was too content at the moment to care what Dominic said. A hand slid around the curve of Orlando's buttock, squeezing. "Care for a morning romp?" Dominic asked against the side of his neck. The hand on his buttock began to move in lazy, tantalizing circles.
"Mmmm, maybe after I've had my coffee," Orlando replied, backing into the house with Dominic attached like a barnacle. Laughing, he peeled the other man off and spun away into the kitchen. "What are you doing here?" he asked as he gathered the makings for coffee.
Dominic moved to the counter and stood beside the phone, looking down at the answering machine. "Viggo called last night. I guess while we were having dinner. Or later. I had the ringer off."
Orlando spilled some grounds across the counter and casually wiped them up. "What was he calling about?" He knew Dominic was watching him carefully and it irritated him because Orlando hadn't done anything.
"Guess the old bloke's having a get-together tonight. A barbecue." Dominic ran his finger across the buttons of the answering machine. "He wants everyone to show. He asked me to bring you along."
He said the last as if it surprised him. "Well, of course he did," Orlando told him, filling a pot with water. "He thinks we're--" He deliberately spilled water over the machine, pretending to be distracted so he wouldn't have to finish his ill-advised sentence.
"He thinks we're what, Orlando?"
Orlando fiddled with the coffee some more, making needless adjustments. He looked up brightly. "He thinks we're good enough friends that you would pass the word along."
Dominic just smiled. "I'll take some of that coffee if you ever manage to make some." He was staring at Orlando, his eyes unblinking in that odd way Dom had of looking at him. It reminded Orlando of yesterday. And last week. And all the other times when disagreements had escalated into wild, manic sex. Orlando was still a bit sore, but maybe he could--
"The light's blinking," Dom told him, indicating the answering machine. "It's probably Viggo's message. Want me to play it?"
"That's all right," Orlando said carelessly, moving around to join him. "I'm sure it's just the invite." He pressed the clear button. Dominic didn't need to know that this was one of the old fashioned machines that saved messages to tape, not digitally.
"So are you going?" Dom asked, his voice carefully neutral.
Orlando looked at him in surprise. "It would be a bit rude of me not to, don't you think?"
"You could always beg off ill."
Orlando laughed. "And show up fine for Monday's shooting? He'd see right through it. I'm going, Sblomie. So are you."
Dominic reached out and ran his thumb over Orlando's nipple. He raised his eyes as Orlando's breath caught. He looked back at what his thumb was doing, watching the skin pucker into a tight pebble. "I really don't want to go to this. Some of my least favorite people will be there."
Orlando could seem to think of nothing but the finger rubbing him. "You have to. It would be rude not to."
Dominic gave a long-suffering sigh. "'Suppose I must. Someone's got to keep a tight leash on you." His tone was only half-joking, but Orlando didn't care when Dominic bent forward and slowly licked his nipple. "Make it a little less painful for me, would you, Orli?"
Orlando winced as teeth bit down on him. "Aren't you exhausted after last night?" He stroked the back of Dominic's hair, wanting to pull him away.
"Not as much as you must be." The words were warm against his chest. They made Orlando shiver. Another nipping bite that made his fingers clench in the sandy hair. "Sean's going to be there," Dominic murmured. "Won't *that* be fun?"
Orlando frowned and pulled Dominic's head up. The blue-gray eyes were heavy-lidded, but watched him knowingly. Orlando was a good actor. He ran his tongue over his lip, drawing Dom's gaze. "You ever do it in the kitchen, Sblomie?"
**************************
In retrospect, Orlando should have thought twice about attending Viggo's barbecue. All of the elements were in place for a disaster to occur. But now that he was here, he was stuck. Dominic had driven them. A certain stubborness would not allow Orlando to ask to be taken home. So four hours later, he found himself sitting on Viggo's sofa, clutching a sangria whose ice had completely melted.
"What's wrong, Orli?" Elijah plopped down next to him, beer in hand. He pointed at Orlando's drink. "That's the same thing you had in your hand an hour ago. Why aren't you drinking?"
Elijah didn't understand. Orlando had to be sober because Dominic was around here somewhere and *he* definitely wasn't.
"I feel like watching the rest of you make fools of yourselves," Orlando replied. "In a few hours, I'm going to bring out my camera."
"Come on," Elijah pushed. "You're bummed about something. What's up?" He leaned against Orlando conspiratorially. "Is it because of Dom?"
Orlando was afraid to ask. "What about Dom?"
Elijah shrugged. "He's trapped in a house with two other men you want to sleep with. Last time I saw him, he was sizing up Viggo for a fight."
"Shit." Orlando craned his head around, looking for Dominic. "Look, nothing's going to happen, Lij. Dom and I have an understanding. We're not exclusive. He knows that. Nothing will happen."
"Uh huh," Elijah grunted doubtfully. He took a swallow of beer. "*You* may have that understanding, but I don't think Dommie does. He still can't be alone in the same room with Sean, you know."
"No," Orlando murmured, sick, "I didn't know." Nor did he want to. He experienced enough drama in his professional life. He didn't need any more in his personal affairs. "Do me a favor, Lij--let's not talk about Dom or Sean anymore, okay?"
Elijah looked at him sympathetically. "Bumming you out?"
Orlando's lips twitched. "Sort of."
"Well, how about getting something to eat? I came to see if you wanted something from the grill. This is a barbecue, you know."
Orlando wasn't particularly hungry, but he nodded. "Sure. I haven't eaten since last night. It's probably a good idea."
He followed Elijah onto the balcony where a charcoal grill was smoking against the rail. John stood over it, tongs in hand, a serious expression on his face.
"Well, laddies, what'll it be?" he boomed as Elijah and Orlando approached. "We've got weanies, chicken and steak."
Orlando grimaced. "Maybe I'll just have a salad."
"Boring," Elijah said, holding out a plate to receive both a hotdog and a steak.
Orlando helped himself to some potato salad and greens and sat in one of the patio chairs. He looked across the balcony and saw Dominic and Billy reclining on chaises. Orlando caught Dom's eye and smiled. The other man grinned back just a little too widely. Bad news. Dom was wasted.
"You come to a barbecue and eat salad?" Elijah said in disgust, taking the folding chair next to him. "One of these days, I want to see you eat a hotdog."
Orlando stirred around his salad. "You will never catch me eating one of those disgusting things," he declared.
"Didn't your mother teach you it's impolite to insult your host's food?"
Orlando looked up slowly, his breathing shallow. Viggo stood over him. Orlando hadn't been able to share more than five words with the man thanks to Dominic's hovering presence. It looked like Orlando still wouldn't get the chance for a private conversation, because it was none other than Sean who stood beside Viggo.
"My apologies," Orlando said carefully, struggling to remain cool. Viggo's attention was rattling him. Sean's presence didn't help. Nor did Orlando need to look to know that Dominic had sat up and was watching them. "It's not *your* hotdogs in particular that I object to. I rather dislike the whole lot of them, actually."
"Aw, come on," Elijah needled. "I wanna see you eat one."
Orlando wanted to throw his plate of potato salad in Elijah's lap to shut him up. "I am not eating one," he said with forced patience.
"Don't try and tell me you have an objection to putting a cylinder of meat in your mouth," Elijah said. He burst into laughter. "Because we all know better."
You little shit, Orlando thought to himself. He felt his face heat as Viggo and Sean continued to look at him. "You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Lij." And because he was feeling pressured and irritated, he added, "Isn't that right, Sean?"
The temperature of the air seemed to drop fifty degrees. Sean's face, even now enough to make Orlando's heart skip slightly, was as cold as stone. "When you've been on enough sets, you learn to accept that there will be rumors, Orlando. It happens every time. You'll discover that when you've been in a few more movies."
Orlando looked away, feeling inexperienced and naive. He could feel Viggo's eyes on him. Worse, across the balcony, Dominic rose unsteadily to his feet.
"Don't sweat it about the hotdogs," Viggo told him softly.
Surprised, Orlando looked up at him. "The less you eat of them, the more there are for the rest of us." He smiled. If Orlando hadn't been so tense, he would have smiled back in gratitude. "Come on, Sean, let me show you that new canvas I was telling you about."
Orlando dropped his eyes to his plate, refusing to look up as the two men moved away. It wasn't until Dominic took the chair beside him that Orlando raised his head. Dominic rubbed the back of Orlando's neck. "What was that all about?"
Instead of relaxing beneath the massage, Orlando tensed up. "Forget it, Sblomie. It was nothing."
"Hey, Orli." Elijah was poking him in the ribs. His wide face was contrite. "Hey, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to be an ass just then. I was trying to be funny, but I forgot how it is between you and Sean."
The hand on Orlando's neck tightened ever so slightly. Conscious of Dominic's presence, Orlando shrugged. "It's no big deal, Lij. Forget it."
But Elijah had an unfortunate habit of being obtuse at the worst times. "I don't know, Orli. He sure has a bug up his ass about you. And you guys never even fooled around." He shook his head. "Imagine if he'd actually agreed to sleep with you. What a major asshole he'd be."
Orlando felt his muscles tightening up all over again. He knew Dominic would notice it and it just made him more stressed.
*Imagine if he'd actually agreed to sleep with you*
Orlando wanted to laugh. If only Lij and the others knew......
It was a week before leaving for New Zealand, almost two months before the cast "discovered" Orlando's interest in Sean. The older man had looked over the top of his martini glass and said to Orlando, "My wife and I are having problems."
Orlando had only known the man a few hours, but already he had seen where it was going.
"I think you and I are going to enjoy working together," Sean had said. His fingers were stroking up and down the stem of his glass.
Orlando had watched Sean's fingers. He had heard the other man's words and understood their true meaning: "I want to sleep with you," Sean was secretly saying, "but I'm a married man. I've never done this before. Will you help me?"
The answer Orlando should have given had gotten lost somewhere en route to his lips. He had stared into Sean's eyes and by saying nothing, given mute assent.
Thirty minutes later, he'd found himself being banged against the headboard as stars flashed behind his tightly clenched eyelids. He'd bitten his lip and drawn blood. That was the first time. The only time he'd had to cover his face so Sean wouldn't see his expression.
Later, in New Zealand, it had been easier.
"What is it about you?" Sean had said after yet another round of clandestine sex in Sean's trailer. He'd said it almost accusingly, as if Orlando were a drug and he, a helpless addict. Orlando had not had an answer for him. Even if he had, he wouldn't have shared it. Everything involving Sean had been wrapped in deception. Orlando had thought only of protecting Sean. He'd been worried about making the situation right for Sean. Orlando should have been watching out for himself......
"Thank your bloody stars you never did get involved with him," Dominic was saying, continuing to massage Orlando's neck. "He and Viggo both are nothing but trouble."
It was a warning, and Orlando didn't miss it. He knew that when Dominic got drunk, he felt easily threatened. It boded ill for the rest of the night.
"Sblomie, let's go," he said abruptly, turning to the other man. He laid a hand on Dom's leg. "We've made our appearance. It wouldn't be rude now if we left."
But Orlando saw the answer before Dom spoke it. "No, I'm having fun, babe. Let's stay a few more hours."
Despite the haze filming the blue-gray eyes, awareness still lurked. He was challenging Orlando. Testing him. Orlando had known their relationship was moving to this point. He only wished it didn't have to be tonight.
The hand on his neck tightened. He looked up to find Dominic looking at him grimly. "Come on." He took Orlando's plate and handed it to Elijah, then led Orlando back into the house. Dom took him down the hallway, past several open doors. Through one of them, Viggo's and Sean's voices could be heard. Orlando almost pulled away, but Dom continued until they'd reached the last door. Once inside, Orlando froze.
"What are we doing *here*?" he asked in growing dread.
Dominic pushed him until the edge of Viggo's bed pressed into the back of his knees. His finger traced the underside of Orlando's jaw. "I want to watch you come." He pushed a little more, urging Orlando backwards. "I want to see you lose it on Viggo's bed. Think of it as a trial run."
Orlando bit back his retort. He knew it wouldn't resolve anything to argue. He fell back against the coverlet and Viggo's scent billowed up around him. Orlando was startled at the surge of desire it caused in him. He inhaled deeply. He could almost imagine Viggo with him. Almost.
Dominic unbuttoned Orlando's shirt. Hands tugged his jeans open. Orlando lay passive, watching Dominic beneath lowered lids. He sighed as Dominic found him and stroked him to immediate hardness. "Oh, yeah, Orli. You're always ready for it, aren't you?" Orlando couldn't answer as wetness swooped down around him. He groaned, lying limply as Dominic pushed him farther up the bed so he could kneel between Orlando's legs. "Oh, Sblomie," he whispered, losing himself to the delicious sensations.
Dominic's fingers trailed over the sensitive skin between his thighs. Fingers cupped him and gently squeezed. Orlando moaned softly, turning his head. But the movement stirred up the scent of Viggo again. And though he never intended to, his mind drifted to the older man.
Viggo, whose voice slid into Orlando like molasses, slow and thick. Viggo, who looked at him as though he wanted to shove Orlando up against a wall and fuck him until the plaster cracked. Orlando had never been looked at that way before. It made him hot, aroused, so incredibly hard...
He thrust upwards into Dominic's mouth, groaning as his release shook him. Dominic licked him clean and stood up. Orlando's eyes remained closed, his breathing labored. He heard the sound of rapid movement, Dominic groaning softly. Heat splattered across Orlando's chest. He opened his eyes, watching Dominic spill across him and onto the coverlet. Breathing harshly, Dominic leaned over him and smeared himself into Orlando's skin.
"What are you doing?" Orlando said, trying to sit up. Dom pushed him back. "Don't tell me you're marking your territory like some bloody heathen."
Dominic said nothing, continuing to rub himself over Orlando until the slickness had been absorbed. He buttoned up Orlando's shirt with a look on his face that was vaguely frightening. When he was finished, he tugged Orlando to his feet. "Let's go back before someone misses us."
"You're insane," Orlando muttered, slipping out the bedroom door.
"That makes two of us."
*****************************
Orlando wasn't drunk, precisely, but he was close. He existed in that state where the option to get hammered was one more drink away, yet he was sober enough to reconsider. Wasn't such a bad place to be, he decided, moving through Viggo's house. At least he, unlike Dom, wouldn't be spending most of tomorrow morning beside the toilet.
He hadn't actually seen Dominic for a while, though. For all he knew, Dom could be passed out somewhere already. The thought wasn't all that unpleasant. At least Dom couldn't get into any trouble.
Orlando found himself in the hallway again, wandering towards the bedrooms. He remembered having heard Sean's and Viggo's voices coming from one of the rooms. He guessed that Viggo had converted one of the rooms into an art studio. He headed for that now, curious to study Viggo's works in progress.
He stepped into the room and blanched.
"Orlando." Sean looked at him with a matching look of dismay on his face. He was standing beside Viggo's easel as if he had been studying the half-finished canvas there. "I'm surprised you're still here. We've barely seen each other all night."
"I wanted it that way," Orlando heard himself say. This was all taking the shape of a nightmare. Since the Great Humiliation, he'd managed to avoid speaking to Sean off set. It had taken a lot of maneuvering and headaches on his part, but he'd managed it. He and Sean were like ships passing in the dark. Until tonight, when he'd spoken more words to Sean than he had in months.
Sean's eyes, those brilliant green gems that Orlando had once stared into for hours, darkened with unexpected regret. "Do you plan to avoid me for the rest of the shoot, Orli? There's really no need. We can work this out, you know. Make things at least amicable between us."
Orlando passed a hand across his suddenly sweating brow. "I don't want to work things out," he said faintly. "Not after what happened. What you let people think about me. How could you--" he choked, felt his throat closing up. He chugged the rest of his cocktail, the one he had decided not to drink. "You fucked me, Sean." He laughed, the sound so bitter it depressed him further. "You fucked me in every way possible."
A touch of anger, a touch of defensiveness appeared on Sean's face. "I can't control what people say, Orlando. If they got the wrong impression that's not my fault. I can't influence people's opinions."
"No," Orlando said softly, backing up, "but you could have tried to defend me and you didn't. You went along with all the rumors and that's as bad as starting them yourself."
Sean extended a hand, realizing his intent. "Orlando, wait--"
But he didn't want to hear any more. Not from Sean. Not any more. He stumbled out of the room and down the hall, his breathing too fast, his heart pounding too hard. This barbecue had been a bad idea. He needed to get out of here. Where was Dom?
He found Elijah in the living room, laughing over a card game with Billy and John.
"Lij, you seen Dominic around?" He hoped his voice didn't gave away his anxiety.
He needn't have worried. Elijah was too plastered to notice. "Thought I saw him on the balcony awhile ago. Dunno for sure, though."
Moving quickly, Orlando went to the glass doors and slid one open. He immediately heard Dominic's voice.
"-- see you've been watching him all day. 'Course I noticed. Not fucking blind," Dominic was saying. His words were slightly slurred.
"I think you're overreacting," Viggo replied.
Orlando's heart sank. Could this get any worse? He moved farther out onto the balcony until he found the two men, confronting each other beside the railing. Viggo looked relaxed, standing with his hands in his pockets in what Orlando assumed was a deliberately non-threatening pose. Dominic apparently had no such compunctions. He stood, feet spread wide, hands fisted by his sides.
"Sblomie," Orlando called, moving to the other man. He laid a hand upon Dominic's arm and felt the tension running through him. "Sblomie," he repeated more softly, "what are you doing?"
"Our new Aragorn's got the hots for you, Orli." Dominic closed his eyes briefly. He was drunk. Orlando realized if he could just drag the other man to a sofa, maybe he would pass out. "His eyes have been on your arse all night. Doesn't even care that you're supposed to be fucking *me*."
"Jesus, Dom." Orlando couldn't look at Viggo. How he wished this wasn't happpening. He slung an arm around the other man's shoulders, hugging him. "Come on, love. Let's get out of here. I'll buy you a burger at that all-night diner we like. Come on."
Dominic was immovable. "I'm not hungry." He pointed an accusing finger at Viggo. "And I'm not finished with him yet."
Orlando sighed, looking up at Viggo with apology on his face. Viggo's expression was one of complete understanding. Their gazes held and again Orlando felt that unexpected stirring within. For a moment, he could almost forget that he had a very drunk young man in his arms. Almost.
"Look at him!" Dom blurted. "Look how he's staring at you."
Orlando grabbed Dom by the chin and turned his face. "Shut up, Sblomie," he hissed. He hadn't wanted to do such a thing in front of Viggo, but he didn't know what else to do. He smashed his lips down over Dom's, pushing his tongue between the other man's lips. Dominic resisted. "Kiss me," Orlando pleaded against his mouth. Dominic groaned, his lips beginning to soften. Just as Orlando was about to congratulate himself on a successful distraction, Dominic tore away.
"You think we've got a fucked up relationship, don't you?" he snarled at Viggo.
"Why would I think that?" Viggo asked calmly.
"Dom--"
He shrugged off Orlando's arm, ignoring him. "You think it's all about sex with us, don't you?" A certain hoarseness crept into Dominic's voice. Orlando's ears picked it up like nails scraping against a blackboard. "You want to know why things are so fucked up between us? I'll tell you why."
Alarms went off in Orlando's head. "Dominic, stop it." He gave up trying to reason with the other man. He shoved Dom's shoulder hard. "I'm not going to stand here and listen to you reveal the details of our relationship to someone we hardly know."
"Then leave," Dominic said. And for the first time, the eyes he turned on Orlando were empty. Orlando stepped back, stunned. Dominic reminded him of the first time they'd been together. They had been strangers then. They were becoming strangers now.
Orlando took another step, intending to go. But he didn't leave. He couldn't, because not knowing what Dominic said about them was worse than hearing it.
"We got together after Sean rejected him," Dominic said, clearly not about to pull any punches. "What was it you called it?"
Orlando didn't want to answer, didn't want to be a part of this.
Dominic snapped his fingers clumsily. "Oh, yeah. The Great Humiliation, that's what you said."
Viggo studied Orlando curiously. "That's what *you* called it?"
Something in the way he said it told Orlando that Viggo knew all about what had happened between he and Sean. The rumor mill version, at least. The knowledge made Orlando suddenly, desperately sad. Perhaps it had been foolish and unreasonable to hope, but he had entertained the idea of Viggo never finding out about that whole scene. Orlando had hoped for a clean start with Viggo. Not anymore.
Stressed, Orlando tried to appear as though he didn't care. He shrugged, though the movement felt as natural as pulling his leg behind his head. "I thought it sounded funny," he replied. When Viggo looked at him as if he were nuts, Orlando supposed he must be. What on earth had possessed him to make a joke out of it?
"You thought it sounded funny," Viggo repeated. "From what I've heard, it wasn't funny at all."
Orlando met his eyes and said nothing.
"It wasn't," Dominic agreed. "And you wanna know what kind of bastard I am, Viggo?" Self-hatred was in his voice. "There Orli was, a laughing-stock--" Orlando winced "--and what did I do? I dragged him into my trailer and took advantage of him."
The guilt in Dom's voice tore at Orlando. "It wasn't like that," he protested half-heartedly. "You were offering comfort."
"Bullshit," Dominic said, staring vehemently at Orlando. "I wanted to fuck you. That's how it all started. Back then, that's all I wanted from you, just to fuck."
Orlando looked away, his heart pounding so hard he could barely hear Dom's words. He had known all of this, of course, but to hear Dominic actually saying it aloud...
"I started us off that way," Dominic continued, his voice starting to crack, "and I shouldn't have. But it's too late for me to repair what I did now, isn't it?." His face twisted. "Why do all of our arguments end in sex? Why can't we have a normal disagreement about things and be okay with it? I mean, what was I thinking, doing that to you on Viggo's bed? "
Orlando looked at him in growing horror, conscious of Viggo's eyes on him like a brand against his cheek. Stop it! he screamed inside. His breath was coming quick and short. Too short. He was having trouble breathing. Stop it! he wanted to scream.
But Dom was a river that had been stoppered for too long. This was weeks in the making. Months. Orlando had seen it coming but been too afraid to face it. Now he was paying the price. The words flowed from Dominic in a mad rush. "I want to change all of it, Orli, but every time I try, you stop me. Why? Is it really too late? Is it too late to say I'm sorry? Too late to change anything, to start over and tell you how much you fucking mean to me? That I think I even--
"Shut up!" Orlando shouted. Dominic's mouth fell open, startled into silence. Viggo took a step closer. "Just shut up, Dominic! What are you doing? What are you doing telling a stranger all of this?" Orlando gave a strangled laugh that sounded hysterical even to his own ears. "Why are you tell him how you feel? Are you fucking crazy? I don't--I don't want you to love me. I don't want it, Dominic! You know that. We've talked about this. You know that. Why are you--" he gasped, unable to breath, "--why are you--"
Stars swam before his eyes. Blackness closed in on the edges of his vision. A hand was on his back, bending him over. "Take deep breaths, Orlando."
Viggo was holding his shoulders, urging his head down. "You're hyperventilating. Just breathe. You'll be okay. Just calm down."
Orlando pushed his hands over his face, humiliated and sick with himself. What a disaster this was...
"Do you want to take him home?" he heard Viggo asking Dominic. "Maybe I should find someone to drive the both of you."
"I'm taking a cab."
Orlando's head shot up though the movement made spots blink before his eyes. "Dom--"
Dominic had his back turned to Orlando, the line of his shoulders stiff. "You'll be fine, Orli. You're good at taking care of yourself." He slid the glass door open. "Or finding someone else to."
The sound of conversation swelled and died as the door shut behind him.
Orlando moved to follow him, but Viggo restrained him with a hand on his shoulder. Orlando's eyes flared. "Let me go."
Viggo didn't flinch from the heat leveled at him. "Why? Whatever you intend to say won't matter. He's drunk, Orlando. He's not going to listen to a thing you say to him right now."
"It doesn't matter, I have to go to him--"
"Are you going to tell him that you love him?" Viggo asked quietly.
This was wrong. He shouldn't be having this conversation with Viggo.
"Are you?" Viggo prodded.
Orlando swallowed. "No."
The hand on his shoulder dropped. "Then don't bother finding him. That's the only thing he wants to hear from you. Anything else you have to say is just delaying the inevitable."
Viggo was right, but it rankled that he presumed to give Orlando advice. "You don't know us. You don't know anything at all about what we share."
Viggo shrugged. "You're absolutely right. I don't know you. I only know what I've seen of the two of you together. And from the others I've heard...things."
Orlando didn't need to ask what those "things" were. He could guess. Since coming onto the set of Rings, Orlando had been the star of his own mini-soap opera. He'd never intended for it to be this way. But after Sean, everything had begun to snowball.
Viggo stepped closer, drawing Orlando's attention. "It's true, I don't know you or Dominic. But I think I have the right to at least know why you and he were in my bedroom."
Orlando felt himself color. "I'm sorry for that. We didn't mean any disrespect. It just sort of happened. I don't know what to say."
"I don't care what you did. I can wash the sheets," Viggo said, making Orlando blush hotter. "I want to know *why* you were in there. Why, in the middle of a party--"
"Because you don't know Dom," Orlando blurted, feeling himself lose all sense of restraint. "You don't know how he gets, how jealous. He was trying to prove something--"
"So you used sex," Viggo finished for him. "Just like he said."
Orlando's hands fisted. He looked up angrily. "What are you, a bloody sex therapist all of a sudden? Where do you get off analyzing what we do together? How is it any of your business?"
Orlando was suddenly surrounded by the scent of Viggo again and he realized the man had moved close enough that their arms were brushing. Viggo lowered his head. They were so close that Orlando was afraid to look up. He stared at a button on Viggo's shirt, his heart pounding. "I'm saying all of this because I think there's something between us, Orlando. I know you've felt it, too. I see it in your eyes whenever you look at me."
Orlando couldn't speak. He had never felt so off-balance.
"And after what I've heard and seen tonight, I don't think I'd be stepping on any toes by showing my interest. You've made it clear you don't belong to anyone. That you're only interested in sex--"
"That's not true," Orlando protested faintly.
He almost jumped when Viggo's hand settled against his cheek. He held perfectly still as the older man's hand stroked down his face and slid leisurely down his throat to rest across his collarbones. Viggo's thumb brushed lightly back and forth across the pulse racing in the hollow of Orlando's throat.
"Look how you're responding to my touch," Viggo breathed. Orlando groaned, shutting his eyes. His body pulsed with rising desire. Viggo lowered his head, his lips brushing Orlando's cheek. "You respond to sex, Orlando. It's all you know. All you let yourself know, anyway."
"No," Orlando whispered. But it was a weak protest when he was pressing his face against Viggo's lips, breathing raggedly as the thumb continued to caress his throat.
"It's true, and the sooner you realize that, the better. I want more than that from you. I want more, because as much I would enjoy having sex with you, Orlando, I don't want to end up like poor Dominic, tossed aside for someone new."
Orlando looked up at him, his senses clearing. A chill settled along his bones. "Go to hell," he whispered, stepping back. "I never meant to hurt Dominic. It was never meant to be this way."
"Orlando--"
"I'm not like that. You've got me all wrong." Orlando wiped the back of his hand across his cheek, rubbing the other man's touch from his skin. "I'm not interested in sex with you, nor anything else. You think you can play with me? Well, you're wrong."
"Playing is the last thing I want."
The words frightened Orlando for a reason he could not explain. It made him lash out. "Despite what you seem to have heard, I have my standards, Viggo." He raised his chin. "You don't meet them."
Viggo smiled then, and it lit a fire in Orlando's body. "Don't I?" That damnably husky voice washed over Orlando's skin. "Don't run away, Orlando. Come back here and prove you're not interested. You talk a lot, but I want to hear what your body has to say. I think I know."
Orlando was hard. And he was angry. He knew Viggo could read both of those things. "Stay away from me," he said. After a fumbilng first attempt, he managed to throw open the sliding door. "You know nothing about me." As he shut it behind him, he expected to hear a retort. Or ridiculing laugher. But Viggo remained silent and somehow, that was worse.
