Author: Ariel Tachna
Author’s e-mail: [email protected]
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Donna
Characters: Viggo/Orlando, Sean B.
Summary: A mysterious note takes Orlando to the set one night in costume. He gets more than he bargained for.
Warning: Light bondage, semi non-con, spanking
Disclaimer: I don’t know them so I don’t know what I’m talking about. This is all for fun.
Feedback: Yes, please!

Winner of the Other VOLA May challenge



Sean Bean had had it.  For a month, he’d had to listen to Orlando bitch and moan about missing Viggo.  The break-up had been mutual, at least at the time, but Orlando had regretted it ever since.  And Sean had to listen to him whine and complain.  God, Orlando was worse than his daughters.  They, at least, knew when he’d reached his limit.

And now Viggo was calling Sean to check on Orlando.  As if it were somehow Sean’s job to make sure the kid was safe and happy.  Safe, he might have been.  Safe, Sean might be able to keep him.  But happy?  That was Viggo’s responsibility, and Viggo’s alone.  Sean wanted no part of it.

“Come on, Sean,” Viggo pleaded. “Just tell me he’s all right.”

Sean sighed.  Friendship really sucked sometimes.  “Define all right.”

That was obviously the wrong answer because then Viggo demanded to know what was wrong.

“He misses you, Vig,” Sean said.  “I haven’t heard any name but yours off the set, since he got here.  You want to tell me what happened, because he won’t?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Viggo evaded.

“Suit yourself, mate,” Sean replied, “but he’s a mess.  Whatever happened, maybe you ought to fix it.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Viggo answered.

Yes, friendship really sucked sometimes.  “Do you love him?” Sean asked, “Because he still loves you.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“Shit, Viggo, do you think I’m blind?  He doesn’t have to tell me.  I can see it in his face when he talks about you, and in the tears he cries because he misses you so much.  Find a way to fuckin’ fix this.”

“Let me think about it,” Viggo replied.

“Think fast,” was Sean’s aggravated response.


Two days later, Viggo called back.  “Are you sure?” he asked, when Sean answered the phone.  Sean rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay, can you do me a huge favor?”

Sean listened in stupefied silence as Viggo outlined his plan.  It had to be the craziest plan Sean had ever heard, but if it got his two friends back together, he was all for it.  He just hoped the Wolfgang didn’t find out, because he’d lose his job for sure if he got caught.



Orlando stared at the note in his hand.  There was no signature. He didn’t recognize the writing, but the only writing he would recognize in the cast was Sean’s, so the note could be from anybody. He’d read it so many times already that he had it memorized and he’d only gotten it an hour ago.  “Meet me on the palace set tonight at 10,” it said. “Wear your costume.”

If Viggo had been here, Orlando would have sworn he’d sent the note, even if it wasn’t his handwriting.  When they had been filming Lord of the Rings, he and Viggo had snuck onto every set and made love, in character or out.  But Viggo wasn’t here, and never would be again.

It was all his fault, Orlando admitted.  Before he left to film Troy, he’d been tired and frustrated.  He enjoyed the work he was doing, but not the life he was living.  He’d gone to Viggo, thinking the older man would help solve the problem.  “Living like this isn’t working,” Orlando said without preamble.

He expected Viggo to ask why, to suggest a solution, anything to fix it.  Instead, he’d calmly agreed with Orlando that it wasn’t working.  There hadn’t been any heated words, any callous insults.  Orlando had simply gathered his things and left for location.  Since then, they hadn’t talked. Even once.  And Orlando was sick with it.  He managed on set, because it was a job, and when he slipped into the role of Paris, the real world fell away for a few hours.  But at the end of the day, when the costume came off, so did the illusion of normalcy.  He knew he was driving Sean crazy, but no one else on the set knew about him and Viggo, so no one else would understand.  He had to talk to someone or he’d go mad.  Sean was it.

His thoughts returned to the note in his hand.  He’d ask Sean about it during a break in filming.  Maybe he’d have some advice.

The scenes they were filming that day were grueling.  Especially the ones involving Diane.  She was a really nice woman, but having to act like he was in love with her when his heart was breaking was really asking a lot.  He flubbed far more lines and cues that day than normal.  Still, they finally got it right, and Orlando got his break.

“Sean,” he called when he saw his friend, “do you have a sec?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

“I got this note this morning,” Orlando said, showing Sean the note.  “What do you think I should do?”

“Any idea who it’s from?” Sean asked when he finished reading it.

“No,” Orlando replied.

“Go for it,” Sean suggested.  “What do you have to lose?  You can always leave if you don’t like the person who meets you.”

“I guess that’s true,” Orlando agreed.

“You can tell me all about it tomorrow,” Sean suggested.

Orlando smiled, then heard his name, calling him back on set.  “Gotta go,” he shouted as he hurried back to take his cue.

He finished filming and went home to shower and eat.  The note said 10 o’clock, so he had time to kill.  He toyed with the idea of calling Viggo, just to see how he was. After all, it would have been their anniversary if they hadn’t broken up before Orlando came to film. He decided against it, though. It couldn’t do any good; only cause him more heartache.  He missed Viggo’s smooth voice, the way he could talk about anything, or nothing, and make it sound wonderful.  He missed hearing Viggo tell him that he loved him.  He missed saying the words in reply.  He missed so many things. All the little things that made up the routine of daily life.  He always had missed those things when they were separated for filming, but then, he’d known that he would have them again when filming was over.  Now, through his own stupidity, he would never have them again.

‘No,’ he thought.  ‘I won’t do it.  When this is over, I’m going back to L.A. and I’m finding a way to make this right.  I don’t know how, but living without him is even worse than living apart from him.’

His eyes settled back on the note.  He considered not going.  He had just decided to find a way to make things up with Viggo.  Meeting someone else did not seem like the right way to start repairing his life, but he’d already told Sean about the note. If he didn’t go, Sean would rag on him forever.  He would go and see who sent the note and what they wanted.  He could always tell the sender that he wasn’t interested in an affair, or whatever they were proposing. 

As he slipped back into his trailer for his costume, he began to see it as an adventure. He spent a few minutes pondering which costume to wear.  The meeting was at the palace set, where he had filmed all his scenes with Diane, but if he wore the pants and robe that he had worn in those scenes, it might seem like he was welcoming a tryst.  Finally, he decided on wearing his armor.  He wore it occasionally on that set, when he was coming in from battle, so it wasn’t completely out of character.  At 10 o’clock exactly, he walked onto the palace set, almost eager to see what the evening would bring, even if all it brought was the identity of the note writer.

Much to his surprise, Sean stepped out of the shadows.  “What are you doing here?” Orlando asked.

“Do you trust me?” Sean asked in reply, coming to stand beside him.

“You know I do,” Orlando answered.

“Good,” Sean said. Before Orlando could react, Sean had tied his hands behind his back. 

“What the hell?” Orlando protested as Sean tied a silk scarf over his eyes.

Sean leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Orlando’s curls.  “Trust me.”  Then, he was gone.  At least, Orlando assumed he was gone. He heard footsteps and the door to the set closing.  Then, silence.

“Sean?” Orlando called querulously.  There was no reply.

“Hey, this isn’t funny.  Get these ropes off me,” Orlando called again.  Then he heard footsteps from the general direction of the set bedroom.  Hands closed around his arms. Hard hands. Masculine hands.

“Let me go,” Orlando said, trying to pull away from the man who was holding him in place.  The hands just gripped more tightly, pulling him back against a hard chest. A naked chest, it felt like. The hands roved over his chest.

“Stop,” Orlando insisted, trying to struggle against his bonds and against the man holding him.  “Don’t do this, whoever you are.  Just let me go and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

The man didn’t answer him, loosening the armor instead.  Then the hands were back, running possessively over his chest, inside the armor, kneading his muscles before settling to tweak and pinch at his nipples.  Despite himself, Orlando could feel his cock hardening.  The reaction made him struggle harder.  In an effort to restrain him, his captor pressed more fully against his back, letting Orlando feel the pressure of the other man’s erection.  Orlando had to get away.  He kicked out, trying to knock the other guy off balance.  It worked, but Orlando went down with him, landing beneath him, bare legs tangling with bare legs.  The wandering hands took advantage of the new position to slip under the costume skirt and cup Orlando’s ass through his boxers.  Orlando flinched away from the intimate touch.  He had just decided to go back to Viggo and now this.  Maybe if he told the guy that he was in another relationship…

“Listen,” Orlando pleaded, “I know what everybody thinks about me.  They think I’m single, that I’m up for grabs.  I’m not.  There’s only one person I want, and he’s not here.  He’s in L.A.  I’m going back there, back to him, as soon as filming is over.  I don’t know who gave you the idea that I might be up for something like this, but I’m not.  Please let me go.”

He got the words out before the other man silenced him with a rough kiss.  Not brutal, Orlando noticed in a daze.  Just not gentle.  Kinda like the way Viggo used to kiss him when his feelings got to be too strong to express any other way.  That thought forced Orlando to tear his mouth away from the surprisingly pleasant kiss.  ‘It doesn’t matter how well he kisses,’ Orlando reminded himself.  ‘If he’s not Viggo, I don’t want him.’

Then his brain kicked in.  Sean.  Sean knew that Orlando was moping over Viggo.  Sean knew that Orlando regretted their argument.  Sean knew that this would have been their anniversary. Sean had been here tonight, had been the one to tie his hands and put on the blindfold.   Sean had said to trust him. Sean was Viggo’s best friend.

If Sean was involved, then the man kissing him could only be… Viggo.

Viggo took advantage of Orlando’s distraction to capture his mouth again.  Again, Orlando pulled his head away.  He didn’t just want sex with Viggo.  He wanted everything right again.

“You know,” Orlando said, as Viggo began kissing his neck, “I had a stupid fight with my lover before I came here, but I miss him more than I thought possible.”  The lips on his neck stilled.  “I said something the wrong way, and he misunderstood. I was asking him to help me, but he thought I was saying good-bye.”

Still no movement from the man on top of him.  ‘It has to be Viggo,’ Orlando thought.  ‘Who else would listen to this?’

“I was hurt,” Orlando admitted.  “I thought he was throwing me away.  I told myself I was better off without him.  But I’m not.  I have only ever loved him, and I want him back.”

Orlando took a deep breath. He was certain that it was Viggo there with him.  Now he was going to find out for sure.

“What will it take to make you take me back, Viggo?” he whispered.

Hard lips settled over his, a passionate, possessive kiss.  “I’ll take you back,” Viggo growled, “but you’re going to have to pay for leaving me.”

The words, and the tone, sent lust shooting through Orlando.  He and Viggo had skirted around the edge of playing such games, but had never done so in earnest.  The lure of the forbidden had always tempted Orlando, but he hadn’t known how to bring it up.  This was his opening.

“I’ve been a bad boy,” he purred.  “You’ll have to punish me.”

Those words were all the encouragement Viggo needed.  He rolled off Orlando and pulled him to his feet, leading him across the set to the bedroom area and the bed.  Viggo sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Orlando across his knees.

Orlando tested his position as he lay there.  With his hands bound, he could not support his weight at all.  He could push up a little with his feet, but if he did so, it would dump him forward on his face.  He was essentially at Viggo’s mercy.  Then, Viggo settled a heavy arm across the small of his back, restricting the little movement he had, and he was completely at Viggo’s mercy.  The thought was a serious turn-on.

Viggo flipped up the skirt on Orlando’s costume and stripped the boxers underneath down Orlando’s legs.  “These are not very authentic,” Viggo observed as he pulled them off.  Without warning, his hand cracked down on Orlando’s bare ass.  Orlando jerked slightly in response. The burning feeling faded almost immediately, leaving only a pleasurable warmth and a fresh flush of arousal.  He shifted just enough that his erection was not caught between his body and Viggo’s thighs.

“Do that again,” Orlando whispered.

“I plan to,” Viggo replied, his voice ripe with promise.  His hand descended on the opposite cheek, eliciting another jerk of Orlando’s hips and leaving a red mark to match the first.  “By the time I’m done with you, you won’t be able to sit down for a week.  Then I’m going to fuck you through the mattress and make it two weeks.”

Orlando moaned at the thought.  “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” he babbled, just the thought of Viggo’s huge cock inside him enough to have him trembling with anticipation.

Viggo paused for a moment and looked around the set.  “Is this the bed where Paris takes Helen?” he asked.

“It’s the only bed on the set,” Orlando replied, “so it must be.”

“Cheeky boy,” Viggo chided, applying two more sharp slaps to Orlando’s cheeks.  “We’re going to play that scene a little differently tonight,” he informed Orlando.  “Tonight, Paris is going to answer for his transgressions.”  Another blow.

Orlando could feel his erection beginning to drip just from the few times Viggo had already touched him.  If it continued, he’d be coming just from the spanking.  The thought of it brought him that much closer to the edge.  Still, if Viggo wanted him to be Paris, he would play along.

“And who are you to punish a Prince of Troy?” he asked insolently, slipping into Paris’ voice.

Viggo’s answer was a series of spanks that rained down on Orlando’s buttocks and upper thighs.

“Oh, God,” Orlando moaned, breaking character under Viggo’s sensual assault.

“That’s right,” Viggo answered.  “A god.  Apollo, to be precise, come to tame an errant Prince.”

“You can try,” Orlando/Paris replied.

Viggo’s hand cracked again. Smack, smack, smack.  He could feel Orlando’s erection prodding against his thigh.

“You fell for my sister’s tricks, my prince,” Viggo scolded with another smack.  “So now you have a war on your hands over a woman so fickle she would leave her lawful husband for another man.” As he spoke, his hand continued to pepper Orlando’s butt and upper thighs.

“She was beautiful,” Orlando replied, struggling to stay in character.  “I desired her.”

“You were weak,” Viggo countered, the spanking becoming more punishing as he continued.  “You chose a mortal woman instead of a god.”

“I did not know,” Orlando pleaded. He could feel his release approaching.  He arched into each slap, pleasure and pain mingling sublimely in the heat of his backside.

“And if you had known?” Viggo prompted.

“I would have chosen you,” Orlando swore. “I would have chosen you.”

Viggo took pity on him then, switching hands to reach beneath Orlando’s prone form to fist his cock with one hand while the other hand continued to rain bruising blows on his heated flesh.

“And now?” Viggo asked.  “Will you abandon me again?” 

“Never,” Orlando swore.  “Never again.”

Viggo jerked hard on Orlando’s cock, bringing him to orgasm.

Orlando let out a loud cry as his cock spurted his release.

“Are you well and truly punished?” Viggo asked.

“Yes,” Orlando moaned, still trembling in the aftermath of his release.  His ass was on fire from the spanking. Now he needed fucking.

Viggo slid Orlando off his knees to the floor, positioning him so that his forehead leaned against the edge of the bed. Then he considered the other man’s costume. On or off.  Off, he decided. He was not quite ready to give up the role-playing, but he had to feel Orlando’s skin against his.
 
He undid the buckles on the chest plate, removing it and running eager hands over Orlando’s chest, his shoulders, the scar on his back.  Then, he found the fastening on the skirt and drew it aside as well, leaving Orlando naked except for the blindfold, kneeling before him, hands bound, the perfect picture of submission.

Quickly, Viggo retrieved the lube he had hidden in the folds of the sheets before Orlando’s arrival.  His fingers encountered the condom that was there as well, but he left it there.  He hadn’t been with anyone since Orlando left, and Orlando had already said that he had not.  They did not need the protective barrier that so interfered with their pleasure.

He dropped to his knees behind Orlando, knocking the younger man’s knees apart to expose his puckered hole.  He uncapped the lube and coated his fingers liberally.  They had been apart for weeks.  Orlando was always tight, but especially when their schedules had separated them for any length of time.  It made the first round of reunion sex like the first time all over again.  And while Viggo wasn’t completely sure he was ready to be gentle, he did not want to injure Orlando unintentionally.

“Now, I claim you,” he said, running his fingers down Orlando’s spine again to the still hot skin of his ass. He circled the tempting entrance teasingly. Once.

Twice.

Three times before driving inside, seeking his lover’s prostate to offset the burn of the forceful penetration.  Orlando’s muscle spasmed around Viggo’s finger, holding it tightly inside him.  Mercilessly, Viggo withdrew, before plunging inside again with a second finger.

Orlando whimpered as Viggo’s fingers stretched him roughly, but the cry turned quickly to pleasure as they brushed hard against his prostate.  Viggo gave him a little time to recover from that assault, scissoring his fingers inside Orlando to stretch him.  Normally, he would add a third finger, even a fourth before taking Orlando, drawing out their lovemaking as much as possible, but he wanted the tight clench of Orlando’s sheath around his erection, wanted Orlando to fully feel his penetration.

As if Orlando sensed his internal debate, he shifted slightly.  “Take me, Apollo,” he begged.  “Let me feel the burn.”

That was enough to break what little control Viggo had left. He didn’t even take the time to slick his cock, simply grabbing Orlando’s hips and slamming into him with only the lube from his fingers to ease his way.

Orlando grunted at the rough joining, but he didn’t complain.  He needed to feel Viggo inside him, filling him so full he could feel it all the way through his body.  He needed the reassurance that this was really happening.  Usually, he had to plead with Viggo when he needed this kind of force in their sex life, but not this time.  The power of Viggo’s thrusts was rocking him against the bed. 

Viggo couldn’t believe how hot and tight Orlando’s passage felt.  Maybe it was the separation, maybe it was believing he would never again experience the sense of homecoming that he felt when he and Orlando were so intimately joined, but it had never felt so good.  So right.  He plunged repeatedly into Orlando’s tempting body, until release shook through both of them.

When they recovered, Viggo reached up and removed Orlando’s blindfold before helping his lover to sit up.  Their eyes met for the first time in over a month.  The white-hot passion that burned there despite their recent climaxes almost shocked Viggo.  He’d known the spanking had aroused Orlando, but he hadn’t quite realized to what extent. He captured the younger man’s mouth with his own, a passionate kiss that stirred the embers of their desire.

He had been a fool to let Orlando go without a fight, Viggo realized.  The spanking and the sex had taken the edge off his anger, as had Orlando’s words.  Suddenly, Viggo wanted Orlando’s hands on him.  The bonds had to go.  He reached down and untied the ropes.

Still in submissive mode, Orlando moved onto the bed face down.  Viggo ran a tender hand over Orlando’s ass.  “Will it hurt to turn over?”

Orlando didn’t answer, simply rolling onto his back and opening his arms as he reached for his lover.  Viggo went willingly into his arms, settling fully against Orlando on the bed.

“I love you,” Orlando whispered against Viggo’s skin.  “I never stopped, and I never will.”

“I love you, too,” Viggo replied.  “Let’s go home.”

“Home?” Orlando asked.  “To L.A.?”

“I wish,” Viggo sighed, “but tonight we’ll have to make do with wherever you’re staying here in Malta.”

“Okay, let’s go,” Orlando agreed, using his boxers to clean up the mess he and Viggo had made and offering them to Viggo when he was done.  Then he put his costume back on and led Viggo to his trailer.

“I have to leave the costume here,” Orlando said a little redundantly. Viggo was an actor. He understood the vagaries of filmmaking. Viggo nodded agreeably and watched with a leer as Orlando changed back into street clothes.

“What did you mean to say when you told me things weren’t working before you left L.A.?” Viggo asked when Orlando was dressed and they were leaving the trailer.

Orlando led Viggo to his car and they got in before he finally answered.  “Being separated all the time, only being able to talk about you to a few people, having to hide who we are. It was really getting to me.  I know we agreed not to tell many people, and I know that it was mostly for me, but I felt like I was living a lie.”

He started the car as he spoke, driving toward his apartment.  “You agreed with me when I said it.  What was on your mind?”

“Some of the same things, plus the old insecurities that never seem to go away. That I’m too old for you, that you’ll wake up one day and ask yourself what you’re doing with an eccentric like me. I know you say it will never happen, but your words in L.A. just served to make all my nightmares real.”

“I’m sorry, Vig. I thought you were over all that, that you’d left those fears in New Zealand.  If I’d known, I would have started the conversation differently. I never meant for us to break up.”

They reached Orlando’s place. Viggo followed Orlando inside.  “So what do we do now?” Orlando asked.

“First, I’m going to make love to you the way you deserve.  Then, we’re going to deal with the shit that’s keeping us apart.  How does that sound, angel?”

“Like heaven,” Orlando replied, leading Viggo to the bedroom.  They undressed slowly, a careful choreography of tender caresses and gentle kisses, as if the near-violence of the past hours had never existed.  There was no rush in their movements, as if they had all the time in the world. Their hands sought and found sensitive spots, relearning each other’s bodies.

Viggo shivered under Orlando’s tempting touch, skin reawakening at the contact.  He reclined on the bed, offering control to his lover in reparation for his earlier roughness.  Whatever Orlando wanted, Viggo would give it to him.

Orlando took one long look at the picture Viggo made lying there in decadent repose and dove into his arms.  He pressed his lips to Viggo’s neck as he snuggled against his lover.  “I love you,” he whispered again.  “I’m sorry I ever made you doubt it.”

Viggo bent his head and captured Orlando’s mouth.  “It’s already forgotten.”

When they broke the kiss, Orlando trailed his lips down Viggo’s neck again, to his chest, teasing around his nipples before pausing to nibble lightly on one, then the other, a sensual torment he knew would drive Viggo wild.

As expected, Viggo moaned at the first touch of lips on puckered skin, shifting needily under Orlando’s mouth. Endearments and encouragements poured from Viggo’s mouth as Orlando drew out the caresses unpredictably, varying speed and pressure. Every needy movement, every breathy sound added to his arousal as every touch, every kiss added to Viggo’s.

Finally, Viggo had enough. He needed more contact, a different kind of contact. He pulled Orlando’s mouth back to his and Orlando’s body on top of his so their cocks aligned, the weight of Orlando’s body providing delicious friction.  Orlando shifted enough to reach between them, enfolding their cocks in his fist.  Leisurely, he pumped their erections, rubbing them together as his hand slid up and down.

Viggo groaned, bucking his hips into Orlando’s grip. Orlando tightened his hold slightly, increasing the erotic pressure on their cocks.  When Viggo began to thrust in earnest, Orlando let go and moved down to lick and nibble at Viggo’s erection.  He relished the musky smell from their previous bout of sex and was determined to add to it.  Quickly.

“Don’t tease,” Viggo begged when Orlando didn’t immediately take him in his mouth.  Orlando took pity on him and enveloped the head of the other man’s arousal in his mouth, his tongue sliding eagerly over the slit, drinking up the fluid that had begun to leak out.  Viggo couldn’t help himself; he thrust into Orlando’s mouth.

Orlando had been expecting that reaction. He took a little more in before controlling the thrust. He wanted nothing more than to deep-throat his lover, but he wanted to do it at his own pace.  He had given up control to Viggo on the set, but now he was taking it back.

“Turn around,” Viggo requested.  “I want my mouth on you as well.”

Orlando shifted so that he was on his knees, his ass in Viggo’s face. Viggo nuzzled his still-red cheeks softly.  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked. Orlando released his cock long enough to reply, “Not more than I could bear.” Then, impatient with talking, he drew Viggo all the way into his mouth, swallowing around the cock head at the back of his throat.

Viggo arched off the bed, making Orlando chuckle.  The vibrations sent more sensations through Viggo’s groin. He could feel his release approaching and he’d barely gotten started on Orlando. His tongue flicked out to caress Orlando’s balls, drawing them into his mouth one at a time, eliciting a heartfelt moan from the other man. The reaction spurred Viggo on. He had taken his pleasure selfishly on the set, caring only about his own feelings. That Orlando had found release as well did not in any way change the greediness of his actions.  He had promised to make love to Orlando this time the way he deserved, and he had every intention of doing so. Orlando, however, seemed to have other plans, the suction of his mouth and throat pushing Viggo ever closer to release. Giving up on that fight, Viggo let his orgasm come, flooding Orlando’s mouth, but when the younger man started to move, Viggo held him in place, his hands clenching convulsively at Orlando’s hips.

“Let me love you,” he asked when he could speak again.

Orlando did as he asked, resting his head against Viggo’s thighs while Viggo tantalized him with his tongue, licking Orlando’s cock and balls thoroughly, then drawing him deep and sucking hard before releasing him and turning his attention to the little rosette still so temptingly open from their earlier loving.

Orlando shivered when Viggo’s tongue circled his entrance, but when it pushed inside, he flinched.  Viggo had kept his promise to fuck him so hard he’d feel it for weeks.

“I can’t, love,” Orlando said apologetically, pulling away. “I’m too tender from earlier.”

Viggo opened his mouth to apologize, but Orlando silenced him with a kiss before he could speak.  “I wanted it exactly the way you gave it to me,” he assured his lover, “but it’s your turn now.”

Viggo trembled in anticipation. He’d bottomed for Orlando before, but not often. Orlando was almost always in the mood to be taken rather than to do the taking.  On the rare occasions when they reversed roles, Viggo’s release was always extraordinary.  He kissed Orlando hungrily, then broke away to say, “Only if you want to.”

“I want to,” Orlando replied with a smile.  He rummaged in the bedside table for the lube he knew was there, popping the cap and spreading some on his fingers.  Sitting back on his heels between his lover’s spread legs, he reached for Viggo’s reawakening erection with one hand while he gently fingered Viggo’s tight entrance with the other.  Viggo forced himself to relax under the sensual assault, not wanting to be any more tense than he was naturally.  Orlando was patient with him, stroking his perineum, tempting the guardian muscle to relax. When it finally did, he slipped a finger inside, just to the first knuckle, holding it unmoving and caressing Viggo’s cock until the involuntary spasms ceased and Viggo relaxed more fully.  Then, and only then, did he slide further into the incredibly snug passage.  He would have to loosen Viggo up quite a bit or he risked hurting him, Orlando realized.  He didn’t mind. This was anniversary sex, make-up sex, and reunion sex in one.  As well as Viggo had ravished him earlier, the least he could do was return the favor.  Especially since he knew how much Viggo enjoyed it when he turned the tables like this.  “So hot,” he whispered.  “So tight. I can’t wait to get inside you.”  Viggo’s muscles contracted at his words.  Orlando smiled and crooked his finger, searching for and quickly finding Viggo’s prostate.  A tremor wracked his body.  Orlando stroked again.  “Do you like that?” he asked redundantly.  Viggo just moaned in response.  “Just think how much better it will be when it’s two fingers inside you. Or maybe you want three?  Of four?  What do you want, Viggo?”

“More,” was all Viggo could say, the erotic images Orlando’s words conjured stealing his breath.

There was plenty of time to ring specifics out of him. For the moment, Orlando gave him what he wanted and inserted a second finger beside the first, brushing Viggo’s prostate and stroking his cock to offset any burn. Viggo cried out with the intense pleasure, his hips lifting to meet Orlando’s hand.  Orlando didn’t move, letting Viggo fuck himself on his fingers and into his fist, until he felt the muscles loosening.  “Look how needy you are,” he murmured encouragingly  “You can’t get enough of my fingers. Can you take another one?”

“Please,” Viggo begged.

“Please what?” Orlando asked, thrusting hard and stealing Viggo’s breath, wanting to draw this out.

“Give me another one,” Viggo answered when he could speak again.

Orlando obliged, scissoring his fingers in Viggo’s sheath to stretch him for a third finger. Viggo thrashed wildly beneath him at the intense, unaccustomed sensations.  He gave in to them with abandon, relishing the freedom of giving up control.  Orlando released Viggo’s erection so he could support his weight as he leaned forward to kiss his lover.  As he did, he continued to drive his fingers relentlessly into Viggo’s eager passage.  Viggo threaded his fingers into Orlando’s chocolaty curls, pulling his head down so that their lips met, his kiss voracious.  After a moment, one hand left Orlando’s hair to scrabble blindly in the sheets until he found the lube, which he quickly applied to Orlando’s straining erection.

“Eager, are you, love?” Orlando asked, breaking the kiss.

“I want you inside me,” Viggo answered.  “Now.”

The words sent a fresh shot of lust surging through Orlando.  He lifted Viggo’s legs to his shoulders, leaving the older man completely at his mercy. Then, he slid his fingers out and set his cock to Viggo’s entrance.

“Relax,” he murmured in Viggo’s ear.

“Just do it,” Viggo hissed in response. So Orlando did, sliding slowly but inexorably into his lover’s tight body.

Viggo held his breath as Orlando penetrated him, letting it out only when he felt Orlando’s groin brush against his balls.  The erotic tremors that had run through him at each new stage settled in to stay as Orlando began a drawn-out rhythm of thrust and retreat, angling his entry to brush Viggo’s prostate with every pass.

Orlando had to work hard at maintaining the slow pace. The sensation of being inside Viggo was rare enough in itself. To be there when he had feared never again making love with Viggo in any fashion was all but overwhelming.  He didn’t want to rush, though, and ruin the experience for Viggo.

When Viggo reached down to stroke his own cock, Orlando knew it was time. He pushed Viggo’s hand away, replacing it with his own. Then, he sped up his thrusts, fisting Viggo with the same, intense rhythm.  He could feel his climax approaching.  “Come with me, love,” he said, increasing the pressure on Viggo’s cock.

With a shout, Viggo climaxed, his contractions triggering Orlando’s release.

When his trembling stopped, Orlando raised his sticky fingers to his lips.  “Delicious,” he purred, cleaning his fingers carefully.  “Twice in one night. What did I do to get so lucky?”

He had intended his words as a joke, but Viggo took the question to heart.  “You loved me,” he replied, “with all your generous heart and beautiful body.  You let me back in your life after I misunderstood you and sent you away. You accepted hiding part of who you are out of consideration for what we are.  You never asked for promises that I wasn’t ready to give. I learned something this month without you, angel.  I don’t care if our careers take us apart, but I don’t ever want to be without you again. I missed you. Missed talking to you on the phone. Missed hearing about your film and your friends. I missed sending you packages and poetry. I couldn’t write. I couldn’t paint. I was miserable, thinking I’d let you go without a fight.  Let me up for a minute. I have something for you.”

Orlando let him rise. Viggo dug in the pocket of his jeans and withdrew a small velvet pouch. He sat down on the bed next to Orlando, the pouch still in one hand, Orlando’s hand clasped tightly in the other. He ran his finger around the ring he had given Orlando in New Zealand.

“When we left New Zealand, “To wherever it may lead,” was the most I could promise,” he continued.  “I didn’t know how we would cope with life in Hollywood. I didn’t know what impact the films would have on our careers. I didn’t know what impact our careers would have on our relationship.  I know all of those things now, and I know something else, something this month apart has taught me.  I don’t just want to go wherever this may lead us. I want to decide where we’re going and then make it happen. I love you, Orlando Bloom, and I want this to lead to forever.”  Viggo withdrew a ring from the pouch.  “When you get a break from filming, will you go with me to Amsterdam and marry me?  I know it won’t be legal at home, but I want to promise you forever.”

Orlando didn’t reply at first, so overwhelmed by emotion that he didn’t trust himself to speak.  He took the ring from Viggo’s hand and examined it carefully. Engraved around the interior of the ring were a series of words, some of which he recognized, some of which he didn’t.  Melin chen.  Te amo. Jeg elsker dig. I love you.

“It says ‘I love you’ in all the languages I speak.”

Still not trusting his voice, Orlando gave the ring back to Viggo and held out his hand. Tenderly, almost hesitantly, as if he couldn’t quite believe his good fortune, Viggo slid the ring onto Orlando’s finger.  Then he leaned over and captured his lover’s mouth in a kiss.  When they broke apart to breathe, Orlando smiled.  “Yes.”

“Happy anniversary, angel.”