os�cu�late
v. os�cu�lat�ed, os�cu�lat�ing, os�cu�lates
v. tr.
1. [latin] To kiss.
2. Mathematics. To have three or more points coincident with.
v. intr.
To come together; contact.
Orlando lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. A fruitful occupation, all things considered. He was avoiding Viggo, or rather, avoiding the fact that Viggo was avoiding him. He had just come to a decision that the spots to the left directly above the lamp did, in fact, resemble Viggo's stubble, and that he should forget any and all thoughts of Viggo. Because, well, Viggo was avoiding him. He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He could hear everyone downstairs in the lounge, messing around. The girlish screams were Billy, and the high-pitched, but not-quite-feminine voice singing Spice Girls was Elijah with Dom trying to out-sing him in a snotty British accent, and the occasional spurts of Sean protesting this or that, making suggestive comments about 'Master Frodo'. He couldn't hear Viggo and Bean, of course, because they weren't loud enough. Not that he was going to dwell on Viggo and Bean, anyway. Thick as thieves, those two were, and the whole friendship was great and all for them, and Orlando tried not to let jealousy rear its ugly head in his view of them. Except that he was... Jealous that is. Just a bit, over the way Viggo would stick to Bean, and they would always hang out together, and talk, and do all those things that they did. And Orlando was of course, not privy to any of that. The Hobbits welcomed him in, and the humans were nice. The other two members of the Fellowship�Ian and John�were busy with their own things. �And this train of thought was getting him nowhere, more productive thinking was needed. He searched among the spots in the ceiling for inspiration. But never found it, because Viggo and Bean burst into his room. The way they were walking, they must be severely drunk and somehow they managed to drag Orlando off the bed and halfway to the lounge before he knew what was going on.
Orlando swallowed, and tried to stay calm. He was on a chair, with Beanie holding back his arms, someone holding down his feet, and Viggo Mortensen practically in his lap. Hmm. He wasn't allowed to enjoy the position however. The Fellowship, sans John, was surrounding him, leering and making lewd comments about molesting pretty Elves. If this was their way of cheering him up, it wasn't really working. Goddammit...
He stepped into the trailer with several different apologies ready on his tongue. Apologies that fled as soon as his grey-blue eyes landed on the dark human�actually an Elf and quite pale now, due to make-up and that damned blond wig�in front of him. Orlando was putting on the blue contacts that would complete the transformation; if his eyes saw Viggo as they turned accommodatingly, they showed no visible reaction.
Viggo let out a slow breath he hadn't realized he was holding that stopped short of becoming an audible sigh. He knew Orlando would hate to be told so, but this was the moment when he appeared most feminine. The swept back, braided wig, the clinging-but-not-tight-enough tunic, the pale, androgynous make-up, all obscured in a profile view conspired to create a Orlando that was beautiful, otherworldly, and, despite everyone's best�or worst�intentions, altogether feminine. Viggo found this state to be strangely attractive, though it was almost a given now that Orlando in any state was, to him.
Viggo sighed, walking to his chair next to said Elf and setting down, waiting to be surrounded by make-up crew anxious to get him prettified for the Rohan-halls shoot. Seemed as if there was a lull in the activities around him and Orlando though; strangely enough, considering Peter's grueling schedule. He couldn't avoid meeting Orlando's eyes in the mirror as soon as he looked up. Though he was unable to read any specific emotion in eyes that he suddenly thought of as shielded, there was no trace of the seething anger he feared to see. Which was good. �Now he'd probably better get to apologizing�
He cleared his throat surreptitiously, trying desperately to remember what various words he'd thought of and get them into a coherent order. It didn't help that Orlando was being cool and calm, sitting still as someone rearranged his wig, brushing back blond strands with a familiarity that made Viggo's fingers itch.
"Orlando." The Elf turned around his chair, facing him. Unnatural blue eyes stared directly into his. Viggo tried to find an opening that didn't sound ridiculously filled with innuendo.
"�Yes?" A prompting arch of dark eyebrow that contrasted with the light-colored wig�Viggo must stop thinking of him as shades of colors and textures� Although, that was slightly better than thinking of what he'd like to do with said textures�
"Uhhh�" he resented the entirely too calm Elven features.
"Oh, is the eloquent poet at a loss for words, then?" his tone was just mocking enough to cause suspicions.
But Viggo was saved from having to reply by the arrival of Anya, makeup artist, who turned his face up with a firm grip on his chin to examine what make-up would be needed and where.
"Morning Anny" he mumbled at her through her fingers around his mouth, and she laughed in response. He closed his eyes, letting her chatter at him as he obeyed her commands�interspersed in the chatter, but always reinforced with a pressure in her hand�and ignored the urge to look over at Orlando.Eventually though, she was done, as well as the various others that had been working on his, Orlando's, and Sean's makeup. They left, and he noticed that Sean must have left with them, because, though he'd not noticed Sean entering the trailer, he'd seen him in his chair, and now he was gone. Sly bastard. He considered running after them to drag him back so he would be forced to participate in this apology, though it had really been only Viggo's fault. Not that Orlando needed to know that�
But�no, because�yes. And he was alone in the trailer with Orlando now. Alone and�there was no time for all the inappropriate acts that ran through his mind�even had Orlando been willing. He looked up to find Orlando watching him intently, that unreadable expression still in place.Leaning forward�slowly enough to give Orlando time to move away�until his hands were on either side of the Elf's face and their noses were almost touching, Viggo murmured.
"I'm sorry." He was going for honest and sincere and if his eyes belied anything else, it was Orlando's fault for smiling, all soft and sweet and�gods. Beautiful didn't begin to describe it. He only realized he'd said that out loud when the whisper, having traveled over Orlando's lips, feather-light, made the elf's eyes blaze an unholy�read, 'furious'�shade of blue.
"Fucking Arse!" Viggo flinched, sitting back up and reminding himself that Orlando should not be able to do that with his eyes while he was wearing contacts.
"What is it?"
"Bloody. Fucking. Hell Vig" each word a small explosion and his name saturated with so much scorn that it hurt. "First you avoid me like the plague. Then you decide to 'kidnap' me�with your friend along for the ride, and both of you drunk off your asses�for no specified reason, other than the fact that I'd been in my room, and I really think that didn't help in any way. And then when you finally have the guts to fucking apologize, you try to fucking kiss me. What, did you think I didn't notice that look?" Viggo winced. "Because I did, Viggo Mortensen, you sodding perv!"Viggo found himself busy studying the floor for any signs of an opening his size. He barely heard the soft muttering as Orlando continued.
"�Y'know, if you wanted to slap me around, all y'had ta do was ask�" His eyes shot up, searching Orlando's face, which had regained its calm expression of before. "�I'm not really into the S&M thing, but there's not much I'dve said no to you on�provided it was in private with just you�" A mocking smile, though Viggo wasn't sure just who it was mocking at the moment, played on the Elf's lips.Really. Viggo cleared his throat. Again. That particular action was getting to be quite repetitive, he noticed. He was divided between the equally strong urges to pursue Orlando's �admission�or to become a part of the floor. Of course, the carpet showed no inclination to be friendly to Viggo, and he and Orlando were both due on set right about now. Oh, and, Orlando was heading towards the door of the trailer, so he should follow�
He was managing to look properly guilty even when Orlando wasn't watching, though the hanging-head position allowed him a rather nice view�and that could've been the incentive. He was brought up short, smacking against the lean Elf-like body that had whirled around so quickly; his head snapped up fast enough to see blond locks settle back into place.The smirk on Orlando's lips could only signal danger.
"I know what you want now, Human Scum, and it's my turn." Any alarm and responding thoughts were lost because suddenly Orlando was kissing him. Slow, and deep, and hard; totally unforgiving, and Viggo knew that irritating smirk was still there, because he could feel it in the way Orlando's lips moved, the way his tongue stroked, and teased, and then clashed against his. He could feel the whole of Orlando pressed against him, through all the layers of both their costumes, and was unconsciously lifting a hand in response.
But he was left gasping, barely able to suppress a moan, because the Elf had moved away. Light, teasing Elven laughter reached his ears as Orlando turned, going on down the steps as quickly as he'd faced Viggo. His steps light, and hips swaying entirely too much more than a man's ever should. Damn pansy Elves.
And if he hadn't been so busy appreciating the tight tights of said pansy Elf, he'd have noticed the scattered applause, whistles, and even an 'Encore!'1 from the nearby cast and crew.
1. The "Encore!" was, of course, provided by Dom. *snicker*