Fandom: Celebrity RPS
Pairing: Orlando/SeanB, Viggo
Summary: Orlando invites Viggo over but not to play. He's only watching.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone you recognize. I know nothing about their social lives or sexual activities, more's the pity. This is fiction, period. It is done as a labor of love and I make no money from it.
Notes: Fourth story in the "When the Pieces Fit" series, after "When Stealth Fails", "When Gift Tags Get Lost" and "When Guys Talk".
Viggo had been friends with Sean ever since he'd arrived in New Zealand, and he and the Elf-boy had spent a lot of time together too, talking and kidding around and playing jokes, so it wasn't as though there was any overt sign that Something Had Changed. No one said, "So, I've noticed you're hanging with Bean and Orlando now," or anything like that and Viggo was pretty sure nothing looked any different from the outside.
It definitely felt different on the inside, though, and he'd had to let Aragorn take over completely on Monday to get through the day without zoning out. Not that he'd never zoned out before, either, but this was different in his head and he didn't want anyone to notice that he was different. Because he was and he didn't know how much it'd show, so just in case.
Anyway. People were used to him doing the Aragorn thing so that was all right.
But he'd sort of expected things to be different with Sean and Orlando and they hadn't. Or maybe "expected" was the wrong word because he hadn't really thought about it, not in so many words. And they had been different, actually, but not much. Or not quite the way he'd thought, not that he'd actually thought, but....
They'd eaten together during the week, but they'd often done that anyway, and their table in the craft services tent had overflowed with Hobbits just as often as it ever had. Orlando'd disappeared with the younger crowd to go clubbing just as always, and even when Viggo'd gone out to a quieter pub with Sean, it'd turned out Brett and BK were there too and called them over and they'd spent the evening in an ever-shifting group of Rings cast and crew. Again, as often happened.
He'd just sort of expected that he'd spend some time with Sean and Orlando, time alone with them, where they could at least talk and yeah, he'd hoped they could do more of what they'd spent the weekend doing. They hadn't talked about it but he'd just assumed.
Of course, that was assuming, right?
Finally, on Friday morning, Orlando leaned over on the way out of makeup and murmured, "Liv's spending the weekend with Roy. My place. Pack light," and then bounded off to chase after Dom, shouting something about biscuits.
It took Viggo a moment to puzzle out what Liv had to do with it. Then he connected it -- Liv had the other half of the duplex Orlando lived in and if she were home then they'd have to be quiet. Well, that made sense at least.
And with that, Viggo felt a surge of emotion pulse through him. Several emotions, actually -- anticipation and relief and lust and the urge to just laugh out loud -- because they wanted him back and they were going to do it again.
He'd known that, of course. Sean had said so. But still, the human gut isn't easily persuaded to let go when it's grabbed onto a chunk of insecurity, and Viggo knew that was exactly what it was. He did his best to ignore it and after they'd wrapped for the day he drove out to his own house, threw a few things into a duffle and headed to Orlando's, trying hard not to squirm in the seat while driving.
Bean's car was already there so Viggo parked right behind it and headed in. Sean opened the door dressed in a pair of khaki slacks and nothing else, looking sleek and beautiful. He took Viggo's duffle, then closed the door behind him and gave him a hug and a pretty good kiss with tongue but not as good as Viggo remembered, probably because Sean hadn't been really concentrating. Even a quicky from Sean was worth having, though.
Orlando came out (denim cut-offs -- they both seemed to be trying to see how distractable he was) and gave him another hug and a longer kiss, then put a glass of iced tea in his hand and flopped down on the couch. Sean came back downstairs without the duffle and they all hung out and BSed for a while, drinking tea and talking about how the shoot was going and wondering what the new people, who were due to start trickling in soon, would be like.
After they were all settled and relaxed, Orlando sipped the last of his tea and sort of straightened up, as though transitioning from hanging out to working. He said, "Was there anything you wanted to ask before we start?"
And that was it -- it was now and they were here and did he have any questions?
Viggo shrugged, then shook his head. "I wouldn't even know what to ask. I mean, I've seen porn and stuff but that's probably not something to go by, so how about if you just do whatever and I'll ask if I think of anything."
Orlando smiled and nodded. "Yes and yes. Most porn isn't something you'd want to use as a guide on how to run a scene, and if you have any questions then definitely ask. If you ever need us to pause because you have a question, raise your hand. You have permission to do that even if you've been ordered into a specific position."
Permission, right. Yeah, this definitely wasn't Kansas anymore.
"We're going to run through some basics this evening," Orlando said. "Make sure you know some vocabulary and some basic positions and such. You won't be punished for getting things wrong so long as you're honestly trying. Some doms think 'naughty' subs who mess about because they want a punishment are cute. I don't. Not that we won't ever have fun or even laugh sometimes in a scene but I expect you to always do your best to obey and pay me the respect of not assuming I'm stupid."
"Of course." Viggo nodded quickly in agreement. He'd never have.... Then he paused and really thought about it. Well, all right, he might've. Not right at the beginning, but once he'd relaxed and started to feel really comfortable he might well have disobeyed some time just to yank Orlando's chain. His sense of humor was kind of whacked at times, some people even said immature, but some things just struck him as funny and why not share the laugh? Probably just as well Orlando was letting him know up front that that wouldn't be cool. He nodded again and said, "I understand."
"Strip, then," Orlando said. It was a casual command, one that just figured it'd be obeyed and that was that. Viggo stood up and tugged his football jersey off over his head. Sean shucked his pants and folded them quickly, then dropped them onto an armchair and started collecting empty tea glasses. Orlando left his shorts on but shoved the couch back against one wall. By the time Viggo was naked, all the furniture'd been pushed aside and there was a big open space in the middle of the room, centered on the rug.
Orlando said, "Fold your clothes and put them over on the chair with Sean's."
Viggo shrugged and said, "Not a big deal -- I don't care if they're wrinkled."
No one part of Orlando's face actually moved but the whole thing shifted and hardened. Viggo'd always admired Orlando's ability to control his face through a range of subtle expressions and he was putting it to good use now. He looked straight into Viggo's eyes from his equal five-foot-eleven height and said, "That wasn't a suggestion."
And Viggo found himself apologizing and folding his clothes, which he didn't do even when he packed a suitcase and probably hadn't done since... hell, since the last time he was living under his mother's roof and did that sort of thing just because she wanted him to. This felt kind of the same but without the whole "mother" thing.
When he finished and turned to look and see if he'd done it right, Orlando gave him a nod and then turned to Sean and said, "Kneel." Sean sank to the floor -- without thudding his knees on the hardwood, which even with a rug was impressive, and Viggo made a mental note to ask how he managed that -- and knelt sitting on his heels with his hands behind his back.
Orlando said, "Take a good look at his position. His back is straight, his knees are shoulder-width apart, his neck and head are straight but he's looking down at the floor. Walk over so you can see how he has his hands clasped."
Viggo obeyed, as much out of curiosity as a desire to do what Orlando said. He took in the details, which seemed to all be important, and tried to remember them. It was pretty obvious he'd need to copy it at some point so he tried to get a mental feel for how his own body would be in that position. So when Orlando pointed to a spot on the floor, out of the way next to the curtained front window and said, "All right, Viggo, kneel," he was ready.
Viggo's knees thudded onto the floor and he winced at the two brief bursts of pain as much as at his failure to match Sean's competent grace. His knees were the right distance apart, or at least he thought they were, and his right hand was grasping his left wrist behind his back, but he ended up leaning forward to look at himself and forgot to straighten up again.
When he looked up at Orlando for approval, he got a tap on the shoulder and a, "Back straight."
I knew that! Viggo straightened up quickly but could feel himself blushing. He straightened his spine and pulled his shoulders back.
"Eyes on the floor."
I knew that too, dammit. Viggo lowered his eyes and studied the dull, brown grain of the floorboards.
"Good boy," Orlando said. "When ever I tell you to kneel -- just 'kneel' -- this is the position I want. You can practice some at home if you have a full-length mirror, but don't go overboard. If you miss something you don't want to practice in any bad habits."
Viggo nodded without looking up. That made sense, yeah.
"When you need to address me during a scene you'll call me 'Sir,'" Orlando continued. "I'll be keeping an eye on you but use it if you need to get my attention, especially tonight since you'll mainly be watching me and Sean. Stay kneeling like that as long as you can, but when it gets seriously uncomfortable -- and it will -- raise your hand if I'm looking at you or just say 'Sir' to get my attention and then let me know you need to shift position. Once we're sure you've got the position correct, kneeling is something you'll probably want to practice; it's difficult to hold the position for any length of time if you're not used to it, especially if you're on a bare floor like you are now."
Viggo said, "Yes, Sir," still looking down at said lack of carpeting. That made a lot of sense. He could feel the bones in his knees even then, actually, and he could tell his feet were going to cramp up before too long.
"All right, then -- watch Sean. I don't expect you to remember all the positions but rather to get a feel for it, for how it flows. Movements are graceful and smooth. Posture, angles, positions of hands and feet -- they're all important and there are a lot of similarities from one position to the next. This is mainly meant to be a taste of what's here. We hope you'll want to have it for yourself." Orlando gave Viggo an encouraging smile and ran a hand through his hair, almost like casually petting a favorite dog. "Think of it like the first read-through of a script, for feel rather than memorization."
Viggo forced himself to stay still, to not lean into Orlando's caress, and said, "Yes, Sir."
Orlando said, "Good boy," then stepped back and turned so that his main focus was on Sean but he could see Viggo as well to one side.
"Kneel up," he said.
Sean rose up, still on his knees but no longer sitting on his heels. No other part of his body moved.
Sean sat back on his heels and spread his knees wider, then lay down so his forehead was on the carpet and his wrists were crossed over his head.
Back up into the first position and Viggo noticed Sean didn't use his hands to push off the floor. He couldn't actually see from his position to Sean's side but he could imagine his abs, tight and strong, and had to concentrate on not moving when he really wanted to shift. He could feel his cock starting to fill and hoped that wouldn't count as "moving."
Sean shifted his weight backward and then rose to a standing position, again without using his hands, with his feet wide apart, then he bent in half at the waist and reached back to spread his ass cheeks. Viggo swallowed hard.
They ran through a few other positions but Viggo stopped registering the individual components and instead looked at the two men. On the surface it looked like a guy and his dog -- one giving orders and the other obeying and maybe it was like that, sort of. But there was more to it.
Bean's focus was completely on Orlando. It was intense, even from Viggo's position as an outside observer, and he got a strong sense of desire from Sean. He wanted very much for Orlando to command him, to give him a chance to obey and do it right and make Orlando happy. He was eager to do it and it wasn't just the promise of sex eventually that drew him in.
And Orlando was happy with him, that was pretty obvious. His smile wasn't his usual sunny beaming but it was there and his focus was just as intense as Bean's, broken only by the occasional glance directly at Viggo, checking on him. Other than that, though, Bean had Orlando's attention, his complete and focused attention as most people rarely got from anyone.
Viggo wanted it.
He wanted that attention focused on him. He wanted to be part of the... the team or the act or whatever it was, the communication and response that produced something fascinating and beautiful to watch. And hot. Definitely hot.
Sean's torso rose from the floor once more and he settled into a perfect kneel, spine and shoulders straight and hands clasped behind his back. Viggo became aware that his own posture had slipped and tried to correct it but as soon as he moved his knees screamed at him. He sucked in a pained breath and instinctively leaned down to take some of his weight with one hand on the floor.
Orlando raised an eyebrow at him, then shook his head. "You need to learn to pay attention to the surface world," he said. "I'm going to have to assign Sean to just kneel next to you and smack you in the head whenever you zone out."
Viggo replied, "Yes, sir," in a dead-neutral voice.
He got a hard stare for that, then an eyeroll. "Go ahead and sit," Orlando directed. "Get comfortable and pay attention. This is the good part." He gave Viggo a wink and shifted his attention back to Sean.
Viggo eased around and sat crosslegged while Orlando ruffled Sean's hair.
"Sean performed perfectly and for that he gets to suck me off."
Orlando stood perfectly still while Sean moved forward on his knees until he was close enough to lean over and take the elastic waistband of Orlando's shorts in his teeth. He pulled them down, first one side and then the other until they were low enough that Orlando's cock bobbed free, then carefully licked the head, running the tip of his tongue around the loose foreskin.
Viggo couldn't help the short, grunting moan he let out. Orlando gave him a brief look but only said, "Notice that he's not using his hands. He doesn't have permission to touch me, only to use his mouth."
Sean had ignored the exchange completely and was still working at his task. His dark gold head moved back and forth slowly, down onto Orlando's hardened cock and then easing back off, his cheeks hollowed in a hard suck. Orlando's eyes drifted closed and his head tilted back. His body tensed, arching slightly as the tension built and Viggo could almost feel it along with him, the swelling pressure and growing need. His own cock was fully hard and burning for attention but he kept his hands gripped hard behind his back because he was pretty sure he didn't have permission to use his hands either.
They weren't in any hurry and Viggo wondered if he was going to last any longer than Orlando did, or even as long. Then he wondered whether coming was one of those things he needed permission for. He hadn't thought about it before but it probably was and didn't that just suck?
Except in a way it didn't. The thought that he couldn't come, that no matter how much he wanted to he had to wait to be given permission even to orgasm was weirdly erotic. Unfortunately it made him feel even more needy which made the thought of controlling himself even more problematic. He gritted his teeth and hung on.
Sean had a gift and a talent for sucking cock, as Viggo well knew from personal experience. He had a way of focusing with every molecule of his being on the cock in his mouth, as though there were absolutely nothing else he'd rather be doing in all the world and nothing in the world existed for him at that moment in time except for his mouth and the cock in it.
It was pretty clear from where Viggo knelt, watching and remembering and imagining, that Orlando was feeling it. His glances over to Viggo grew less and less frequent until finally he let his eyes close the rest of the way. He tilted his head back unseeing toward the ceiling, his lips parted and sucking in air while Sean sucked him nearer to the edge.
The pained, ecstatic tension on Orlando's face was erotically beautiful. Viggo knew that if it all ended right here, if Orlando decided that he'd made a mistake and tossed Viggo out and nothing more ever happened between the three of them, imagining the sight before him, calling it back into his memory, would add a sweet urgency to his jerk-off sessions for years to come.
When Orlando said, "Stop," it came out as a harsh, gasping whisper.
Sean leaned away immediately but there was a reluctant tension across his shoulders and Viggo wished he could see his face. They were both breathing hard and Viggo found himself panting along with them. He was mouthing, "Go, go, go!" silently, his lips shaping the words with no sound to them. He held on to enough conscious discipline not to speak but he wanted with a helpless urgency to see Orlando orgasm.
Orlando and Sean stared at each other, just looking, their eyes locked together. Neither one spoke or moved, save for the occasional twitch of a swollen-hard cock and the rise and fall of their breathing. They held the tableau for a minute, two, just staring, as though posing for a painting. Viggo could feel the tension building and was ready to swear that they'd both end up coming simultaneously, without any further touch or even motion, just from the sex-charged power of their connected gaze.
Then Orlando commanded, "Finish it!" and Sean was back between his legs again like he'd teleported and Orlando groaned out his climax into Sean's desperately sucking mouth. Orlando's hips pumped and Sean didn't seem to be breathing at all and didn't seem to care until it was finished and Orlando pulled out and Sean swallowed and they were back to watching each other.
Viggo was about to raise his hand to ask what happened next, when Orlando said, "Come," and Sean arched and orgasmed, teeth gritted and eyes squinted closed at the straining release. His right hand was squeezing his left wrist so hard that his left hand was noticeably darker than the other from the restricted circulation.
"Good boy." Orlando ruffled a hand through Sean's hair, then took a breath and turned his attention back to Viggo.
"That's enough formal playing for one evening, I think." Orlando glanced down at Viggo's crotch, where his cock still stood at attention. "I'm going to leave you with that. No coming or touching it until tomorrow. It'll help you focus on what you're here for and why."
At that, Viggo froze in momentary shock. But only for a moment, because at the same time he felt taken in and embraced. He'd been on the outside, watching Orlando and Sean as a circle-of-two, but Orlando had opened it up and let Viggo in by allowing him to... to what? To participate. To take part. To offer Orlando his need and pain, and the discomfort that'd probably last even longer, after the erection itself had faded. It was a privilege to be allowed to do that for him and Orlando trusted him to do it, to be physically able to do it on the one hand and emotionally strong enough to handle it on the other. It looked like a punishment on the surface but it was a gift and Viggo understood that.
He pushed back up onto his knees, his position as perfect as he could make it without a mirror, then looked up into Orlando's eyes and said, "Thank you."