It's been five days since the 'Viggo disaster' and I'm still in an absolutely lousy mood. And why shouldn't I be? The man who not only fucked me but also fucked me over is acting so sweetly towards me on the set that it makes me want to flip out! I can't ignore him or be nasty, since we've always been friends and people would notice any kind of change in my demeanor towards him, so I have to grin and bear it while inside I simply want to curl up in a ball and cry.
It figures that I'd fall in love with a total head case. This is how nutty Viggo is: he's acting like nothing went wrong on Sunday night, like he didn't lie about loving me and make me storm out of his house. He's smiling at me and being oh-so-nice, probably in the hopes that I'll come crawling back to his house without any clothes on. But I'm not that dumb.
So now I find myself alone in my little house on a Friday evening, having opted to stay home and feel sorry for myself instead of going out with the hobbits. A week or two ago, I probably would have gone over to Viggo's house, only to be thrown face-down on the bed, strapped into restraints, a hot tongue seeking out my hole before his hands . . . shit, don't go down that road. I am *not* doing that anymore. My days of being his whore are over.
Fucking hell, someone's pulling into my driveway. Odds are it's the hobbits, those persistent little buggers. Great. Now I have to explain again why I don't feel like going to a club. Maybe I should lie and say I have a touch of the flu just to get rid of them.
"I'm coming," I call when the doorbell rings. Affecting my best under-the-weather expression, I swing open the door and promptly go slack-jawed. "Viggo?"
"Uh, hi." He shifts nervously from one foot to the other. Okay, wait a second -- why is Viggo here? And why does he look anxious? He's always so calm and collected. Now I really *do* feel ill. This is just weird.
"What are you doing here?"
"We need to talk."
"No we don't." Gah, shut up! I mentally smack myself. We really do need to talk, because something is wrong; I can tell by the way he looks all unsure of himself, like he's trying to decide whether or not he should turn around and go back to the car.
"Please . . . I made a mistake and I need to talk to you about it." Damn, but how can I say no to this guy? He looks so earnest, and he's ready to admit his mistake and apologize. I might as well be an adult and let him do that.
"Yeah, okay. Come on in."
Viggo steps past me into the house and goes over to sit on the living room couch. I carefully distance myself by sitting in the easy chair, deciding that I want to send him a message -- he hasn't been forgiven yet. "Listen, I have to explain a few things."
"I'll say you do." Once again, I really need to just be quiet and let the man talk.
"Orli, I know that I fucked things up the other night, but I want to fix them." He looks at me hopefully. "I want that to be possible; I don't want to lose what we have, and I think we could have something even better than that."
"Viggo--"
"I really do love you," he says. Jesus Christ, not again.
"What is *wrong* with you?" I shout, jumping to my feet. "For fuck's sake, stop with that shit! I let you in and you're back to the same crap you were going on about the other night! I'm not into head games, Viggo."
"Look, this isn't a game!" he exclaims as he stands up. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that I'd love you?"
"Because what we have is about sex and nothing more. That was the agreement."
"What agreement? We never said anything about that!" Shit, he's right. We never *did* say anything about that. "I've been falling in love with you and I thought that you saw it, too. I mean, I kept asking you to stay the night, and kissing you after we were finished fucking, and things like that . . . I thought I was being so obvious!"
Have you ever felt like the biggest idiot in the world? That's exactly what I feel like right now. How on earth did I miss the not-so-subtle hints he was dropping? Like the fact that when we were on the set, he would always swipe me an extra cookie from the catering tent or fetch me my painkillers from the trailer if my back started acting up. And when I had a cold last month, he brought over some homemade vegetarian soup and disgusting herbal tea for me. Not to mention the post-coital affection he showed me. It's like there was a huge neon sign by the side of the bed that said 'I'm falling in love with you,' but I was too preoccupied with getting spanked to see it.
"So you're in love with me?" I ask softly.
Viggo nods. "And I can understand why you didn't believe me. I didn't exactly tell you in a very intelligent way."
"How do I know that this is real? I want to believe you, but I've been hurt before."
He takes my hand and sits us both down on the couch. "This is going to sound really fucked-up, but I've never had a real relationship."
"What are you talking about?" I ask in confusion. "Weren't you married for, like, ten years?"
"The only reason I got married is because Exene got pregnant," he explains. "We were never in love."
"Oh." Okay, now I'm an even bigger idiot.
"Orli, I've always kept myself extremely cut off from other people. I've had a lot of friends, but the thought of having a relationship, the kind where you give yourself over to another person, has always terrified me. So I've just had sex for the last twenty years with no goddamned emotions involved, and I was convinced it was better than risking getting hurt. But then I met you and things changed. I don't know why, but they did."
"I never thought you liked me that way. I thought you just wanted to fuck me."
"I thought that's what it was at first, too," Viggo admits. "Or at least, that's what I wanted to think it was. But I'm not stupid. You're such an incredible person, and I found myself thinking about you all the time. I got angry at myself for doing that, for starting to fall in love with someone after all those years of conditioning myself not to feel anything. And it's not like I had some traumatic experience that deadened me emotionally, I was just convinced that life was easier without the melodrama of love.
"Then what changed things?" I ask gently.
"Well, I thought that there was a chance that you might return my feelings." He looks down at where our hands are still joined. "That night when I first spanked you, it was almost a defensive move, going back to the emotionless sex I've been used to for so long. Somehow I could sense that you would get off on being dominated like that."
My cheeks flush. "Yeah, well you were right."
"So we started that relationship of having sex whenever we could, and I was falling in love with you the whole time. I swear, I've never felt this way about anyone before. With the obvious exception of my ex-wife, I've never had anyone stay over after sex. I've *never* kissed anyone after sex. I've never done any post-coital banter, and I've certainly never been such close friends with someone who I've been fucking. You changed everything and I wanted to tell you how I felt about you. But I ruined it by surprising you like that instead of sitting down and talking to you."
"All I wanted to do that night was make love to you," he continues, looking back up at me. "I thought I'd tell you how I felt and you'd feel the same way, and we wouldn't have any problems. It was stupid of me to think that you'd blindly accept what I was telling you, and I'm sorry for what happened. But please, you have to believe me now. I love you, Orli. I really do, and I want us to have more than just sex. I want to be with you in every way."
"Y-you do?" I stammer. I can't believe what I'm hearing.
Viggo nods fervently. "And if you need some kind of proof of how much I love and trust you, consider that I want you to make love to me. I've never had anyone inside of me before, but I want that from you because I love you."
Oh my God, this is real. I know it's real, I know he's not lying. Nobody is this good of an actor, not even Viggo. Holy shit, he loves me! And it's not just because of the fact that he trusts me enough to let me fuck, er, *make love* to him, it's because I can tell he's not lying. The way he's looking at me now, there's just something in his eyes that's making it so obvious that this is the truth. Viggo Mortensen loves me.
"I love you, too," I say softly.
"You do?" This huge grin breaks out on his face. "I didn't fuck everything up?"
"No," I laugh. "I honest-to-God love you, and I have for a long while."
And now he's kissing me, passionately so, and his arms are tightly wrapped around me. Oh, but this is heaven. This is so much better than any other kiss we've ever had. It seems to go on forever and we're both panting when it finally comes to an end.
"So," I say breathlessly, "where do we go from here?"
Viggo looks a little nervous again. "Well, like I said, I've never had a real relationship before. But that's what I want us to have. I want to be with you even when we're not having sex."
"What a concept," I deadpan.
He grins. "Yeah, I know. And I want to be able to make love to you; I want you to make love to me. I don't want it to be entirely about the kinky sex we've been doing all along."
"No, neither do I. But, uh, I'll still get spanked, right?" I ask hopefully.
"You're impossible," he laughs, wrapping his arms tighter around me.
"It's a reasonable question, man!"
"Yes, you can still get spanked many, many times," Viggo assures me before leaning in for a kiss. "And we'll do all other kind of wonderfully kinky things as well."
I smile and kiss him back, realizing that I have the best of both worlds. "But for now, do you want to make love instead?"
"Yeah, I do." He smiles, which makes me smile in turn. God, he has such a beautiful smile. Of course I noticed this before, but it seems even more beautiful than ever now that it's directed solely at me. Does that make me sound really twee? Oh well, I don't care.
*****
"I have a feeling we're not going to get any sleep tonight," I tell Viggo between kisses.
He breaks away just long enough to peek over at my bedside clock. "Well, considering that it's after three in the morning and we have to be in makeup in a little more than an hour, I'd say that's a safe bet."
"I guess we'll be running on adrenaline today," I say.
"Mmm, I think you're right."
We've been up all night, making love and talking. I made love to him first, which was unbelievable. I was afraid of hurting him, but he was so ready and trusting; he was so also impossibly tight around me that it was difficult not to come right when I entered him. Then he made love to me the way he wanted to on Sunday night -- slowly and gently, completely different from how we've been fucking. After that, he slid down and finished me off with that wonderful mouth until I was screaming his name. After months of nothing but kinky sex, I had forgotten that vanilla sex can be incredible, too. And I've never really *made love* before, so this was definitely a night to remember.
When we finished making love, we talked about a lot of different things. I told him about my previous relationships with men *and* women, how I'd been hurt, how I'd discovered that I was gay, and so on. He talked about his own sexual exploration, how he had used sex to keep others at a distance, and why he was willing to let his guard down for me now. Before we knew it, most of the night had gone by.
"So what will I tell Pete when he asks why I'm wincing on top of the horse today?" Viggo asks me with a smile.
"Tell him you have fire ants in your boxers."
He snorts. "Or I could tell him that I was ravished by a beautiful elf."
"Nah, he'd never believe that Liv would ravish you."
"You're very silly at three in the morning."
"I know." I lean forward to kiss him for the hundredth time. "Viggo? Could we keep what he have secret for just a little while? I mean, this is totally new for you and I know how overwhelming our friends can be. So maybe . . . just for a few weeks, we should make this our own little world. Can you do that?"
Viggo nods and draws me in closer. "Yeah. I like the idea of our own little world."
"So, we have about forty minutes before we have to leave this little world to go to work," I say, smiling as I entwine my legs with his and run my fingers through the hair on his chest. "Want to make love one more time?"
"What do you think?" he laughs.
"I think you're up for another round," I tell him before touching my lips gently to his. "I love you," I say softly.
"I love you, too."
Yeah, it's really been a terrific night.
