Title: Sordid Masterpiece 3/3
Author: Romana Bunny
Pairing: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
Disclaimer: I don’t know these pretty pretty men and I make no assumptions as to their sexual preferences. None of this happened (to my knowledge) outside of my head, so don’t sue!
Beta: The fantastic Razzleslash
Not wanting to get up again, but having to, Viggo sat up from those arms and withdrew from Orlando’s body. Not wanting to spend too long away from Orlando’s warm body, he scurried off to the bathroom where he disposed of the soiled condom and brought a towel back to help clean Orlando with. When they were through rubbing the last traces of their passion from each others bodies Viggo threw the towel into the laundry hamper by the door and fell back into Orlando’s waiting embrace.
Orlando ran a hand over Viggo’s hair and held him close as their breathing settled into a harmonized pattern. The crook of Orlando’s neck was an inviting spot for Viggo to nuzzle, and whilst the warm mist of his breath tickled along Orlando’s jaw he sighed and hummed a little tune. Orlando moved slightly to look down at Viggo.
“Are you happy?” he asked quietly.
Viggo replied softly, barely a whisper, “I had a dream once; it was bright and beautiful and full of the mellifluous tinkling sounds of a river. I was sitting in a tree, relaxing, and the sun was beating down on the canopy of leaves above my head. I felt peaceful and safe and I knew I had found my haven. I was only a young man and I had a life still to live, but I wanted to stay in the dream forever. I tried to make my life like the dream, I filled it with all the beauty I could, and lived it the best way I knew how, but I never found my haven. I found love in the arms of my wife, unabashed and true love; I found illumination and reaffirmation when my son was born. I found friendship and love and camaraderie but I realized that I have spent my life dreaming and now I can say I am awake, fully awake and I have found my sanctuary in your arms. You are my haven.” He looked up at the man who held him and smiled. A light shone in his eyes.
“Fuck, Viggo. I don’t think I’ve ever been paid a compliment like that before.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone anything like that before.”
Orlando placed a small kiss on Viggo’s forehead and both fell into a peaceful doze, wrapped in each others arms.
Viggo had been sitting at the small table in the kitchen, writing quietly in a small notepad, for nearly 30 minutes when Orlando appeared at the door, smiling.
“You fell asleep; I didn’t want to wake you.” Viggo said.
Orlando wandered across the room in a pair of Viggo’s boxers, placed a kiss on the top of Viggo’s head and sat down in the chair opposite him.
“I hope you don’t mind me borrowing your clothes, I seem to have misplaced mine.” He smiled sheepishly, and cradled his head in one hand. “I have such a hangover,” he whined, self-pityingly.
“If memory serves, I don’t think you were wearing any underwear last night,” Viggo said with a little laugh.
Orlando just inclined his head further toward the table. Viggo poured him a coffee and smiled when he sniffed it and curled his lip up, grimacing. “Ugh, thanks, but I need tea right now. Nice sweet baby tea.”
Viggo stood up to make it for him, and Orlando hurriedly stood saying, “God, I didn’t mean that you had to make it,” before slumping quickly back into his seat with a grunt.
“It’s alright, I don’t mind, just sit still.” Viggo assured him.
A few minutes later with the steaming brew in his shaking hands, Orlando looked at what Viggo had been doing when he walked in.
Lying beside the little notepad, written in chaotic but flowing script, was Orlando’s papers. Viggo had straightened them out, and put back into order. Viggo looked at him quietly as Orlando’s eyes widened, a nervous look fleeting over his finely shaped face. He had read the story; it was the usual fantasy, always with the happy ending. It wasn’t the story that had made Orlando nervous. It was the sealed envelope with Viggo’s name printed on it that had been placed beside the rest of the pile, it was still unopened.
Viggo was watching Orlando intently with a look that was curious and willing to accept any explanation for his sigh. Orlando looked up into those attentive eyes and smiled resignedly.
“I thought I might have to do this.” He said quietly.
“Do what?” Viggo asked with feigned innocence.
“That letter is for you, yeah, and last night I was gonna hand it to you, like a school kid and wait for you to come find me. Damn I’m so immature sometimes. But I had to work up the courage,” he chuckled.
“Dutch courage,” Viggo added, remaining serious but wanting to laugh.
“Yeah, anyway, you beat me to it. I was so scared about you reading the letter in the first place, and then there was the story. The story I could explain, and I was a bit embarrassed about it, but the letter was the crux of what I wanted to tell you.”
Viggo’s smile crept over his face, he knew he didn’t need to open it to know that Orlando had written him a love letter. Orlando’s face was contorted with confusion, “what’s so funny?” he asked.
“Nothing, I just…” Viggo stopped, pushing the little pad closer to Orlando, for inspection.
Orlando lifted it from the table and started to read.
MET BY A LAKE NEAR THE SUN.
YOUR MOUTH AND EYES, ARMS
AND LEGS, MELTED AS THOUGH
WE'D KNOWN EACH OTHER WELL
AND NEEDED ONLY REKINDLE
WARMTH OF THE FAMILIAR.
AS IF PATIENCE WERE REWARDED
AND NOW WE'D SHARE EVERYTHING.
“Wow, that’s amazing.” He said in awe.
Viggo just smiled, picked up the letter and wandered off through the house. Orlando didn’t move to follow him, allowing him time alone.
I have spent a long time writing this, trying to do justice to my feelings. I’m not a poet like you, but I have tried to express myself in a fitting way. I think this is more of a confession than anything else.
I have wanted to tell you like a man, and not in this childish way, so many times, but I don’t think I could have gotten the words right or even gotten past the first line; I would have just drifted off into staring at you.
The thing is; I think I love you.
At first it was just admiration, I thought you were a great actor and I aspired to be like you, but it escalated when I met you, until all I could think about was you.
It wasn’t a problem for me when we started working together; it just sort of grew out of tiny little things. I would glance over at you between takes and you would be so deep in contemplation, it made me want to know what you were thinking.
The look in your eyes when you talk about Henry, or about art, the smile you reserve for friends, the wonderful nature you have, the way you share your wisdom and expertise so freely – you are a remarkable man, a kind, generous and beautiful person.
If ever I wanted to be like someone, whilst at the same time have their love, it is you.
There was one specific moment when I decided that I may be drawn to you by more than just admiration. It was the day when we were filming a scene where you came back from the dead. I thought I had lost you and there you were, all kingly and strong; I gave you back the Evenstar. It’s not the first time that you had hugged me, but… I don’t know, maybe it was the emotion of being in character and knowing you were alive, it made me want to hold you to me forever. I wanted to let you know then that the love I felt for you as Orlando was as real as the love I felt for you as Legolas.
You said your lines and I said mine, but the heat of that encounter was burning into me; as Legolas I am your companion, servant, cohort and I would follow you where ever you go, I would protect you in as much as I could and I would love you as a brother, you are my Ranger, my King; but in that moment, I had the most carnal, lustful thoughts, it was hard to look so innocent and pure when the touch of your hand on me sent sparks along my spine and made me tingle.
Standing in front of you, I could smell you; I was wrapped up in you, and all I could feel were your arms around me and the heat of your chest against me. I wanted you so bad, so much so that when Peter shouted “Cut”, it was hard to tear my eyes off of you. I thought you would notice my blushing, but you had all ready looked away.
I wrote a little thing about you and me so I could get it out of my system and be professional; I would read it over every now and then when I wanted to feel your hands on me, in ways that acting can’t allow. Some day you may even read that little fiction as sordid and cheap as it is.
I don’t think I can say much more other than to say if ever there was a time, with us wrapping the film, it is now that I should tell you how much you mean to me. How every time you look at me I wish I was in your arms and there were no other people in the world, that you would just carry me off to your bed and let physical love suffice to show you but a miniscule amount of the love my heart holds for you.
I think I should let you know before you are out of my life forever, and I will forever regret it if I didn’t.
Don’t let this ruin our friendship if there are no reciprocal feelings, just let us put it down to hero worship, and I shall be totally professional until the time we part company.
I felt I had to tell you, that you had the right to know.
Viggo was curled up on the sofa reading and re-reading the note when Orlando padded into the living room with a nervous hesitation.
Viggo looked up at the angelic face before him and raised an eyebrow.
Orlando didn’t say a word but the torn look of hope and uncertainty written in the lines on his brow said a lot to Viggo.
“Until we part company we should just be friends…” Viggo muttered, and saw Orlando’s face drop, the hope gone replaced with dejectedness.
Orlando opened his mouth to say something, anything, but was silenced by a raised hand.
“Wait, I wasn’t finished,” Viggo sighed, “Until we part company we should just be friends? I know you don’t want that.” A small smile was spreading over Viggo’s face.
Orlando looked confused and then it dawned on him, and his face split into a grin nearly as wide as the one that had blossomed on Viggo’s.
“Are you mad?” Viggo cried exuberantly. And with that Orlando threw himself on top of the seated man, not caring about the crash of bodies, winding them both slightly as he drew Viggo into a deep kiss.
Viggo broke the kiss after several breathless minutes, and held Orlando’s face in his hands.
“Come on then, let’s go write the next installment of your cheap and sordid masterpiece.”
He stood up and led his young Adonis toward the bedroom, where his fantasy had a happy ending again and again and again.