Author: Ariel Tachna
E-mail: [email protected]
Author’s website: www.geocities.com/arieltachna
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Discussion of het sex
Beta: Jean
Archive: VOLA slash, LBES, Mirrormere
Disclaimer: All I own is Crys, Cor, and Nicholas Geegan. I don’t know the actors and don’t make any claims about them. I just make up stories when I get bored.
Summary: Orlando plays a game at the Hidalgo premiere.


Orlando stood back in the crowd.  For the moment, he was dressed casually, a hat pulled over his curls and sunglasses obscuring his eyes to help hide his identity.  He would slip away later, change, and come back to watch the film, but he wanted to see Viggo’s entrance. And since they couldn’t arrive together, this was the best he could do. He looked around at the gathered crowd, mostly women about his own age, some a little older, some a little younger, there to star gaze and to try to get autographs.  That was why he had been so careful to be non-descript.  Though his own fan base was mostly younger, he was still taking quite a risk of being mobbed if he was recognized. It would be worth it, though, to see the reaction to Viggo’s little stunt.  And watching them watch him would give Orlando plenty of fodder for his ever-active imagination.

He observed the women around him, trying to find a couple of likely candidates, by seeing how they reacted to the arrival of other beautiful men. He wanted a few whose reactions let him read their thoughts. After all, he was here so he could see their reactions to Viggo.

Just ahead of him, he spotted two women about his age, obviously together from the way they were talking to each other, one redhead, one brunette.  Each time a new actor appeared on the red carpet, they sighed and giggled and whispered madly.  He couldn’t catch much of their conversation, but what he heard was definitely in line with his own thoughts.  They were ogling the men shamelessly, and he could hear snatches of speculation.  Yes, they were perfect for his game.  He edged a little closer, hoping he might hear something interesting, even if it wasn’t about Viggo. Any ideas he could use were fine with him.

“Oh, look, Cor,” the brunette said in a stage whisper, pointing at Josh Hartnett, “don’t you just want to…” her voice got softer and Orlando missed her words.

“Good idea, Crys,” Cor replied, “but he looks like the kind that might like it rough. We’d have to teach him some manners.”

Crys laughed at her friend’s words, the sound and the images going straight to Orlando’s groin.  These two were definitely going to be a source of ideas. If he could just hear what they said.  As the next limo pulled up, he moved closer still so that he was right behind them.

Crys took one look at Johnny Depp and moaned under her breath.  “What I would do to that man!” she sighed.

‘Do tell,’ Orlando thought just as Cor said, “Share!”

“I’d start at his toes and I’d lick my way up, every inch of skin,” Crys declared.

That was something he’d never tried, starting at Viggo’s feet. He usually started at Viggo’s mouth and worked down.  Of course, that meant that he often neglected Viggo’s legs because he almost always lost his concentration when he arrived at Viggo’s groin. If he started at the feet and worked up, he’d at least have the incentive of Viggo’s mouth and nipples to keep him moving past the erection that invariably captured his attention.

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” Cor replied.  “Of course, you’d probably have to tie him down to get him to cooperate. He looks like the kind who wants to be in charge.”

Orlando stifled a chuckle.  Yes, Johnny was a perfectionist, but he had no desire to control anything outside his own performance.  He never tried to tell Gore how to block a scene, or another actor how to deliver his lines.  Still, the idea of tying Viggo in place had its appeal, because Viggo very definitely liked to be in charge. Not that Orlando was complaining. He loved a forceful, take-charge Viggo. Who was he kidding? He loved Viggo in any mood. He loved Viggo. Period.

Eric Bana and his wife, Rebecca, arrived next.  Her presence did nothing to dampen Crys’ and Cor’s enthusiasm. “Now there is one fine piece of man,” Cor observed.

Crys chuckled. “Like the muscle-bound kind, do you?”

“Muscles are good. I like it when a man takes control.”

“So you’d just lie back and take it?” Crys joked.

“From him?” Cor asked. “Any time, any place, any orifice.”

Orlando wasn’t interested in Eric. They were too much like the brothers they had played in Troy for Orlando to ever consider him as a possible lover, even if he hadn’t loved Viggo. Still, looking at Eric objectively, he could see why women found him attractive. The two in front of him certainly did.  Their words conjured up images of sneaking off with Viggo to some barely private place to make love.  That fantasy would have to wait for another time since Viggo would be in the spotlight all night, but he would save the idea for another time.

The comments were quite different when Nicholas Geegan arrived.  His choice of roles, playing fresh-faced innocents, had given him a certain persona.  Crys and Cor had certainly bought into it, if their comments were anything to judge by as they looked at the handsome young man.  “Look at that face,” Crys said, admiring Nicholas’ chocolate skin.  “Do you think he’d even know what to do with a woman?”

“I would teach him,” Cor volunteered.

“Now wouldn’t that be fun,” Crys agreed. “An innocent virgin to mould as we wished. I could teach him whatever I wanted and he wouldn’t think anything of it.”

“Like John Malkovitch in Dangerous Liaisons.”

“Exactly. He would be my own personal love slave.”

What a role play that would be, Orlando thought.  He wondered whether he could still portray that kind of innocent naïveté well enough to be corrupted by the wicked, worldly seducer.  He hadn’t been that innocent in years, but he wasn’t an actor for nothing. With a little mental preparation, that was probably a game he could play. He’d have to rent the movie and refresh his memory, as well as get some ideas.

The women looked expectantly at the entrance to the red carpet for the next limousine, but there were none waiting.

“Where’s Viggo?” Cor asked. “He’s the star. He has to be here.”

Just wait a bit, Orlando thought with a smile.  He couldn’t hear T.J.’s hooves over the din of the crowd, but he knew Viggo had to be drawing near. It was time.  A sudden cheer let Orlando know that Viggo had been sighted.  He stifled a grin.  No one around him could see Viggo yet, and he didn’t want to look like a grinning fool for no reason.

When Viggo came into sight, Orlando couldn’t suppress his smile any longer. The other actors who had preceded him just couldn’t hold a candle to Viggo, at least not in Orlando’s eyes.  He was wearing a dark, three-piece suit and a light blue tie. Nothing extraordinary, but so different from his usual jeans and shirts that he took Orlando’s breath away.  Crys and Cor were similarly speechless, at least for a moment.

As Viggo’s eyes drifted slowly over the crowd, never lingering more than a few seconds, Cor murmured, “Will you look at that?”

Viggo’s gaze didn’t rest on Orlando, but Orlando knew Viggo had seen him. His expression didn’t change, but Orlando felt it nonetheless. “Ride ‘em, cowboy,” Crys said as Viggo and T.J. went by.

“I’d ride that cowboy any day,” Cor agreed.

When Viggo was inside, Orlando slipped away to change and to make his plans for the evening.

When he was dressed, Orlando made his way to the side entrance. Johnny met him there and let him in.

“Thanks, mate,” Orlando said as they headed toward the theater.

“I still don’t understand why you couldn’t just come in the front like the rest of us,” Johnny commented.

“Because I didn’t have a date and I didn’t want to deal with the speculation,” Orlando replied. “This way, I get to see the move and slip away unnoticed afterwards.”

Johnny chuckled. “Somehow I don’t think you’ll go unnoticed. Not in this crowd.”

“I don’t care if you guys notice me. You don’t care who I’m with or if I’m alone. You don’t think anything of my being here. You know what the gossip rags would say about my unescorted presence. The speculation would be all over the place again. I don’t want to deal with it.”

“Even when they’re right?” Johnny asked.

Orlando knew what Johnny was really asking. After the months they’d spent together filming Pirates, they knew each other pretty well.  “Even when they’re right,” Orlando agreed. 

Johnny grinned.  “Eric owes me fifty bucks. I told him…”

“Shh,” Orlando hushed him. “I don’t care if you know. I don’t even care if Eric knows, but what you know is not public information and we don’t want it to be.  I don’t know why you didn’t just ask Sean.  He could have told you long ago.”

“Eric did ask. Sean refused to say anything,” Johnny replied.

Orlando smiled. It was good to know that his friends were loyal.  “I trust that the two of you will do the same if anyone asks,” Orlando said.

Johnny gave him a hurt look. “Of course. We’re subjected to just as much gossip as you are, despite being married.”

“I know,” Orlando sympathized. “Let’s go,” he added, draping an arm around Johnny’s shoulders. “I don’t want to miss a minute.”

“I guess not,” Johnny said with a smug grin.  “Besides, I need to collect my winnings.”



Orlando slipped out of the theater as unobtrusively as he had arrived, leaving Viggo to attend the after-party and to meet him at home when it was over.  They had not sat together at the premiere, wanting to avoid the publicity, but they had slipped away at the same time to the restroom, meeting for a clandestine kiss and cuddle. 

The kiss had set him alight and the movie hadn’t helped. Not that it was an especially sexy movie, not like others that Viggo had done, but it had given Orlando ideas nonetheless.  He had very much enjoyed seeing Viggo in his cowboy gear.  The drawl he had adopted for his character was slow and sexy, reminding Orlando of Viggo’s bedroom voice.  He had been hard almost from the beginning of the film. Even seeing Viggo as the drunk Frank early on had done nothing to ease his ardor. It reminded Orlando of the nights clubbing in New Zealand and the first kiss they had shared in the little bar.

When he got home, Orlando changed quickly out of his suit. That was not the mood he wanted to set for the evening’s games.  He dug in his closet for a few pieces of his costume from Ned Kelly.  When he was attired as he desired, he moved to the bedroom to organize things there.

He laid out the bandannas he had worn as neck scarves during filming.  He liked Crys’ idea of starting at Viggo’s feet and licking his way up, and he imagined that he’d need Cor’s idea of tying Viggo to the bed to make that possible. Otherwise, his demanding lover would try to take charge and interrupt Orlando’s fun.  And, even if he didn’t manage to taste every inch of Viggo’s skin, he would enjoy however much he savored before he got distracted.

The sound of the door slamming let Orlando know that Viggo was home.  “I’m upstairs,” he called, moving to the door and lying in wait for Viggo.  To his delight, Viggo came through the bedroom door without pausing, providing Orlando with the perfect opportunity to toss the lasso around Viggo’s torso, effectively pinning his arms to his chest. He didn’t pull the rope completely tight, just tight enough to let Viggo know who was in charge.  They had played such games often enough to read each other’s cues.

“Now that you’ve caught me, what are you going to do with me?” Viggo asked.  Orlando stepped into view.

“Take you for a ride,” he replied. 

Viggo gulped when he got a good look at his lover. Orlando was wearing a pair of chaps, his cowboy boots, silver spurs, and nothing else.  “Go easy on an old man,” Viggo requested, eyeing Orlando’s already substantial erection.

Orlando grinned. “Not a chance.”

He led Viggo to the bed, stripping off Viggo’s jacket and shirt.  He pushed Viggo down to the bed and pulled his arms straight over his head, using a bandanna on each of his wrists, restraining him gently.  At Orlando’s urging, Viggo raised his hips so Orlando could strip off his pants and boxers, leaving him naked on the bed.

Orlando stepped back and looked at the sight laid out before him.  He licked his lips as he thought again about the women in front of him at the premiere and their suggestions.  He moved around to the end of the bed and picked up one of Viggo’s feet.  He ran his fingers over the calloused heel and the smooth arch, pressing deeply there, making Viggo moan in response.  He bent his head and touched his lips to Viggo’s instep, running his tongue from the base of Viggo’s toes to the jutting bone of his ankle.  Viggo arched into his touch so Orlando did it again.

Getting comfortable, Orlando settled himself on the bed and proceeded to lick and nibble his way up Viggo’s calf to his knee. Viggo squirmed beneath his touch, already pleading for more.  Orlando grinned and started over on the other foot.

“Orli,” Viggo groaned.

“Yeah?” Orlando asked, looking up from his spot by Viggo’s ankle.

“Have mercy.”

“Do you remember the first time we made love?” Orlando asked.

“Of course I do,” Viggo replied, smile softening at the memory.

“You asked me how many times I had come in a row. And I said, just once. You proceeded to see how many times you could bring me off. Do you remember?”

“Every precious detail,” Viggo swore.

“Well tonight it’s my turn.  How many times, Viggo?” he asked.

Viggo forced himself to concentrate, to remember so he could answer.  “Four,” he said finally, “but in one night, not in quick succession.”

“And in quick succession?”  They had all night, of course, and Orlando was quite sure he could push Viggo over the edge that many times, or more, if he set his mind to it, but he was more focused on the immediate future.  He could think about the rest later.

“Twice,” Viggo said.

“Three it is, then,” Orlando declared.  “Just lie back and enjoy.”

Viggo rattled the headboard a little by pulling at his bonds. “Do I have a choice?” he asked jokingly. He really didn’t want Orlando to stop.

“No,” Orlando replied cheekily.  “You just have to lie there and take it.”  He turned his head back to Viggo’s ankle, nipping and sucking at the tender skin.  Then he ran his tongue over the light dusting of hair on Viggo’s calf, his mind racing as he tried to figure out just exactly how to keep the promise he just made. 

Viggo’s head fell back to the pillow as Orlando stopped at his knee, focusing his attention on the crease behind the joint.  Viggo had never particularly considered that patch of skin to be an erogenous zone until Orlando turned it into one, licking and sucking until the skin was pink and tender.  Every touch went straight to Viggo’s groin. He was already hard and aching, and Orlando had clearly just started.

“What are you going to do to me?” Viggo asked again, hoping to get a clearer answer than the last time.

“I’m going to taste every inch of your skin for starters,” Orlando replied. “Then we’ll see what I feel like doing next.”

“Every inch?” Viggo asked, raising his head, a sensual gleam in his eyes.

“Every last centimeter,” Orlando promised, having just decided how he was going to make Viggo come one time, at least. He just hoped his self-control lasted long enough for him to get to the rest before he made his way back to the skin that interested him most.

He moved up Viggo’s body to his thighs, and then to the crease along his hips.  When he started up Viggo’s chest, Viggo broke his silence. “You missed a spot.”

Orlando ran a reverent hand over Viggo’s cock. “I’m coming back. I promise.” He thought about kissing the tip, but he knew that if he did, he wouldn’t get any farther.  He kissed Viggo’s nipple instead, rolling his tongue around the tight bud before drawing it into his mouth and suckling on it. Hard.  Hard enough to make Viggo cry out with a mixture of pain and pleasure.  It was a fine line, but Orlando managed to walk it unerringly, never quite going too far. His lips and teeth worked relentlessly on Viggo’s nipple before switching to the other one.  He could feel Viggo’s erection pressing into his stomach as he leaned over his lover’s body.  He undulated against Viggo, using every inch of skin to titillate the older man.

Viggo lay back under the onslaught, his bound arms keeping him from influencing Orlando’s movements. He couldn’t help arching first his back, then his hips into Orlando’s touch, though.  He reveled in the sensual torture of Orlando’s lips, tongue, hands, and skin against his own. Added to the usual, though still arousing, sensations was the new and unexpected roughness of the chaps that still surrounded Orlando’s legs and hips. And, since he was usually the one who teased and tantalized Orlando, not the other way around, this was a double treat: a game with Orlando in charge.  Viggo moaned when Orlando slid further up his body, lips attacking his neck.  He started to reach down, to cup Orlando’s curls in his hand, to use that touch to express his love for Orlando and his approval of their game, but the bandannas around his wrists brought him up short.  “Let me loose,” he pleaded.

Orlando just grunted against Viggo’s neck.  “Please,” Viggo asked again.

“If I do that, you’ll take over.”

“I won’t. I promise. I just want to touch you.”

Orlando shook his head.  “Nope. My turn.” He silenced Viggo with his mouth, kissing him voraciously as he squirmed against Viggo’s body, their cocks bumping against each other between their sweaty bodies.  Their tongues twined together as did their legs, the chaps teasing Viggo even more, as Orlando poured all the love and passion that had been building since before Viggo arrived on the red carpet into the kiss. Then the spurs bumped gently against his ankles and Viggo moaned into Orlando’s mouth.  Orlando reached between them and fisted their cocks together. Viggo thrust immediately into his hand, increasing the erotic friction.  Orlando just tightened his grip, letting Viggo fuck his fist until he felt the pressure building in his own balls. He didn’t want to come yet, so pulled back enough to escape his own grip. Then he tightened his fingers around Viggo’s shaft and sent him over the edge.

Viggo shook with his release as Orlando continued to stroke him gently while he came down from the sensual high.  When his trembling stopped, Orlando pushed gently at his hips, turning him over onto his stomach.  He straddled Viggo’s back, knees hugging his sides, but being careful to keep the spurs from digging into Viggo’s flanks.  When he was settled, he bent down and started at Viggo’s bound wrists, kissing and licking his way down his arms to his shoulders. Viggo twisted beneath him, but Orlando’s hands stilled his movements.  “Every inch,” Orlando repeated, scooting down so he could apply his lips and tongue to Viggo’s broad back. He spent long minutes admiring the hard muscles and golden skin. With Viggo’s arms raised above his head, his lats stood out in stark relief.

Viggo fought the desire to arch into the bed, to seek some friction for his returning arousal.  The worshipful touch of Orlando’s mouth on his back was enough to have desire surging through him again.  He knew what the experts said about men his age and their recovery time, but the men in the tests obviously weren’t subjected to the same stimuli that Viggo was experiencing. Nobody could resist that temptation, no matter how old. Viggo was convinced of that fact.  Then Orlando’s lips moved lower and Viggo forgot about everything but the feelings Orlando was evoking in him.

When his own arousal began to clamor for attention, he moved on past Viggo’s waist, over his ass and down the backs of his legs. He half-expected Viggo to protest, to remind him again that he had missed a spot, but Viggo was silent other than the gasps and moans that Orlando’s touch wrung from his throat.

He nipped gently at the tendon along the back of Viggo’s knee and then at the one at his ankle, reminding his lover that he was the one in charge.  Then he worked his way back up to the tempting globes of Viggo’s buttocks. He started at the hollow where his back swelled with muscle and slid down, across the smooth curve to the crease where cheek met thigh.  One long stroke of his tongue.  Then another, tasting the salt of Viggo’s sweat and smelling the musk of his desire overlaying the unique scent that was Viggo himself.  Orlando loved that scent. It was the smell of home, of haven, of safety.

Of love.

Suddenly desperate for more of that smell, of that taste, Orlando nuzzled the crease of Viggo’s ass, burying his face against the warmth of Viggo’s skin. The temptation was irresistible. He had promised Viggo every inch and there was still one area he had neglected.  He nudged Viggo’s legs apart and urged him to draw his knees up under him.  With his hands still caught over his head, Viggo was completely at Orlando’s mercy in that position. Orlando reached between Viggo’s legs and cupped his balls.  Then he bent his head and kissed the puckered hole that peeked up at him from the shadows between Viggo’s cheeks.  Viggo moaned loudly and Orlando could feel him straining to push back into the touch, but he couldn’t move that far.

“Please,” Viggo begged.

Orlando gave him what he wanted and pressed his tongue against the tight entrance. At first, he just lapped at the outside, but as Viggo’s pleas became more insistent, he pushed his way inside, tongue working Viggo’s passage as his hand worked Viggo’s balls and shaft.

Viggo trembled again with need as Orlando fucked him with his tongue. The sensations built quickly, overwhelming him with passion.  Orlando’s pace quickened and Viggo felt another orgasm building. Orlando had promised three, and number two was fast approaching.  Viggo just had time to wonder what else Orlando had planned before a particularly well-placed thrust of Orlando’s tongue pushed Viggo over the edge a second time. He came with a shout, obscenities and praise mixing on his tongue as he climaxed.

Orlando gave one last lick and backed away to give Viggo a chance to recover, taking advantage of the pause to rummage for the tube of lube they kept near the bed. Deciding he’d given Viggo enough time, he urged him onto his back, so that he was staring up at Orlando standing next to him by the bed.

Viggo licked suddenly dry lips.  “That’s two.  What’s next?” His voice was hoarse with still-simmering desire.

“Next, I take you for that ride I promised.”  As he spoke, he opened the lube and spread some on his fingers.  He lifted one booted foot to the bed and reached between his legs to prepare himself for Viggo’s girth. 

Orlando’s actions had the desired effect on Viggo. His eyes darkened again with desire.  “That’s my job,” he told Orlando.

“Tonight, your only job is to give me the ride of my life.”

Viggo swallowed convulsively. His erection was rapidly returning, despite having come twice already, but it would take a little longer before he was fully hard.

He didn’t count on the feeling of Orlando settling across his upper things, chaps still rubbing between their skin. He didn’t count on the delicate pinch of the spurs around Orlando’s ankles. He didn’t count on Orlando’s mouth closing around his shaft and sucking him for all he was worth.  He couldn’t stop himself. He thrust up into the moist heat that surrounded him.  Orlando let him move as he willed, keeping the suction up until Viggo was hard again.

Then Orlando released his turgid flesh and coated him with lube. He scooted forward and sank slowly onto Viggo’s cock.  When he was full and the slight burn of penetration had passed, he met Viggo’s gaze.  “Now we ride.”

The low light gave Orlando’s angelic features a devilish cast, the dark eyes and the tumbling curls of chocolate brown emphasized by the shadow, the subtle beauty of his lips sculpted by some demon to lure mortal women into sin. Mortal men as well, to judge by their current situation.

Viggo’s eyes roamed Orlando’s body, taking in the squared shoulders and lean torso, sculpted by the work he had done for Troy, strength tempered by the lithe grace he had portrayed so well as Legolas. His hands were narrow, long fingers by themselves quite beautiful. The entire package was more than enough to make an angel weep. And it was all his to enjoy, even if, at that moment, he could do no more than lie there, subject to Orlando’s whim, thrusting urgently upward into Orlando’s willing body.

Orlando didn’t think about the angle of their joining. He never did. Viggo’s cock fit him like they were made to go together, two interlocking pieces of a whole, separated by life and finally rejoined.

“Harder,” Orlando whispered as Viggo slammed up into him with all the force he could muster.

Viggo wondered where he was supposed to find more than he was already giving, but then Orlando shifted a little and the spurs came into contact with his skin. The surprise alone gave him the extra push he needed to meet Orlando’s request.

They raced wildly toward the finish, bodies straining together for that final peak, the one from which there was no return.  It loomed quickly, their bodies moving in concert still, pushing them closer and closer, and then they were soaring, ecstasy rushing through them.

As their climaxes raced through their bodies, Orlando knew that this was the best adrenaline rush of all. Not sky-diving, not bungee jumping. Loving Viggo and being loved in return by far surpassed them all. He collapsed across Viggo’s chest, barely conscious. He retained just enough presence of mind to reach for the knots on the bandannas and set Viggo free.

Ignoring the stickiness between them, Viggo rolled Orlando to the bed and pulled him close. After a few moments, he sat up enough to remove the spurs, boots, and chaps that Orlando still wore. Then he snuggled back down beside his lover, skin to blessed skin.

“That was inspired,” Viggo said softly.

“Your fans were very creative and very vocal tonight,” Orlando replied.

Viggo smiled. “Then I guess the game was worth it.”

“You guess?” Orlando challenged archly.

Viggo grinned.  “You know it was. I love you, angel. Sleep well.”

“I love you, too, Vig,” Orlando murmured as sleep claimed him.

Viggo’s last thought as he followed Orlando into slumber was that he should try Orlando’s game some day.