Caravaggio's Painting

Posted: October 2005
Title: Caravaggio's Painting
Author: Klatschmohn and Ashlyn K. Toliver
Type: RPS
Characters: Sean/Viggo, Orlando
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Mind you - fiction!
Warnings: This story deals with a dark side of love - jealousy. If you want Sean, Viggo and Orlando portrayed as "ideal" persons, stay away from it - they are characters with flaws and weaknesses here.
Author's Notes: Again, this is fiction and has nothing to do with how we think the real Orlando would act. But even if he did, we wouldn´t be the ones to judge him too hard. Who of us has always been fair in love? That one may throw the first stone.

Summary: Orlando thinks the wrong man has Viggo - but in war and love all means are allowed, aren´t they?

*****

Prologue

It was my world and everything and everyone in it were nothing more than mere satellites orbiting my bright sun.

Everything and everyone in it was mine for the taking.

Or so I thought.

How could I not believe it? I was rich, I was beautiful, and I was adored by all who saw me.

Right out of drama school I'd been tapped for the role of a lifetime, that of the elven prince Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood in Peter Jackson's epic Lord of the Rings trilogy, and there it all began. From the moment I stepped onto that tiny island in the South Pacific, I knew I was special, that whatever gods there were had indeed touched me with their gifts.

It didn't matter whether I was in my elven costume or not, the looks - the touches, the naked desire for me was there in the eyes of many who saw me. Sometimes I pretended not to notice, feigned innocence - my best acting role yet. I was completely unlike my partner-in-crime Elijah Wood, who let others think him innocent until he seduced them right out of their knickers (literally).

Me? I preferred drawing out the game, for it was a game to me, the best kind. I'd watch my suitors - men and women both - seek even the merest hint of interest from me - a look, a smile, perhaps even a fleeting touch.

And even for that, I knew they'd barter their very souls. For more than that, they'd barter their families' souls.

With the wild success of the films, my status was thusly assured. Everything was possible, nothing impossible. Studios sent me tantalizing offers for leads in their upcoming films - most I did not bother to look at for I was too busy enjoying the material trappings of my hard-earned fame.

And yes, though it looks effortless on screen, I did work very hard, sometimes in great pain and hardship, for Peter was an ogre when it came to his movies.

Perhaps then, my sense of entitlement stemmed from the fact that I did earn it.

Women threw themselves at me. Men who'd never thought they could ever desire a man gazed hungrily upon my face and body, lusting for me with the same passion they'd had for a beautiful and unattainable woman.

Yes, it was my world and no one denied me anything in it.

Except him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment I laid eyes on Viggo Peter Mortensen, no one else mattered.

I was determined to have him.

It didn't matter in the least that the man was at two decades older than myself, there was something about him, something I couldn't explain but felt deeply.

There was something about his eyes, the intensity of his stare - the way he could just gaze at you as if you were the only person who mattered.

It was how he just became Aragorn, as if Tolkien had written the character with him in mind. When he got into character, you could easily forget that Viggo Mortensen even existed. Even out of costume, most of us referred to him as our 'King'. Like Peter, he was a perfectionist and would push himself beyond all endurance, swallowing back the pain he had to feel at almost every turn.

Sorry Stuart, but you made a much better Dorian Grey.

I was certain when our eyes met, he'd swallow me in that stare, mark me as his own. I'd never felt so passionately about anyone in my life.

Not to mention, why shouldn't I have him?

Chapter 1 - Taking up the Trail

It had been so long since I saw him.

Viggo.

He was still as sexy...Still as gorgeous. Still able to take my breath away with those eyes and that smile.

Some time ago I'd overheard a couple of women dish cattily that with all the money Viggo has now, (obviously not knowing that whatever money Viggo made more than likely had been spent on his horses and his publishing company) one would think he could afford to have something done about the crookedness of his teeth, but I happened to like the imperfections. It made him real, accessible.

He wouldn't have been my Viggo without that smile.

I still thought of him as mine - at one point he could have been mine.

He should have been mine.

I snuck up slowly behind him, my eyes full of mischief. With a finger to my lips, I warned the young reporter not to do or say anything that might alert him to my presence.

With the element of surprise in my corner, I launched myself towards him, wrapping my arms tightly around him like steel bands.

I may look fragile, but as they say, looks are deceiving. I will always be slight, but my body is quite well-built.

Eagerly I covered the older man's whiskery cheeks with passionate and insistent kisses, seeking that mouth that I'd so longed to taste again. That mouth I'd been dreaming of for so long.

Viggo, recovering from my assault, slowly yet gently pulled himself away from me and I could read everything he felt in his eyes.

Nothing had changed.

He stroked my hair softly, like one would do a cherished pet, and it was all I could do not to fall at his knees and curl up like a contented feline. He smiled awkwardly as he did so and I was torn between overwhelming desire and insane jealousy.

I knew my antics would wind up as tabloid fodder, but I just didn't care. I was Orlando Bloom and I could do no wrong. If I felt like kissing my former co-star, then who had the right to tell me no?

Besides, he was my Viggo.

"Man, have I missed you," I said and it was true. Kate tried her best, but she just wasn't him. I didn't even love her, and I think she knew that.

"I'm glad to see you too," he replied softly and his eyes were kind, but I didn't have to ask.

That detested name, haunting me like a specter, coming between me and the man who should have been mine. I was the one who truly deserved him.

Viggo was with him still.

Sean.

Sean fucking-I-wish-him-into-the-deepest-circle-of-hell Bean. The man who broke Viggo's tender heart in a million pieces because he could.

I remembered it so well, I remembered the trip they took together alone, best friends off on a jaunt across the wilderness of New Zealand.

I remembered drinking a lot, sleeping with anyone who wanted me, doing idiotic and dangerous things like jumping out of planes - anything to get my mind off of the jealousy that was eating away at me like water eats away at stone. I didn't want them to fall in love. I didn't want Viggo to see anyone but me.

I wanted to be his sun, his moon, his whole fucking constellation.

And then they returned and afterwards Sean left without a word, leaving the most beautiful man in the world to me a shattered and fractured shell.

Oh, I hated Sean Bean with everything I had.

But he was gone and I was still here and Viggo needed me.

I cared for him, cooked and cleaned for him - things I would never do for anyone else I did for Viggo and was happy just to be around him, though he still mourned for the bastard who tore his heart out.

Bean hated planes. If I had the power, I would have made his return trip to London the most turbulent-filled one he'd ever been on.

I might have even caused it to crash...

It had taken nearly two weeks but I'd finally dragged the sordid details out of Viggo.

I listened sympathetically as Viggo told me what had happened during their trip.

Sean and Viggo had slept with each other.

Bile welled up in my throat as staccato images of Sean kissing Viggo, Sean touching Viggo, Viggo kissing Sean, Viggo touching Sean rose in my mind ...Viggo and Sean inside of each other...the images tortured me, laughed at me, mocked my desire.

They had slept together several times during their trip, and then fought.

I snorted. How fucking typical. Sean Bean was the classic straight man who couldn't accept that sometimes desire manifested itself in interesting ways. Then again, it wasn't as if Sean was any great shakes as a husband, if three divorces was any indication.

Viggo wanted to reconcile but Sean rejected him.

Sean Bean had taken what I had waited for, wanted, dreamed of, for so long and then thrown it all away without so much as a backward glance.

Then my hope grew. Sean didn't want Viggo, but I did - and I was right here.

So I waited patiently, nursed Viggo's spirit - dragged his butt out of the house into the company of the hobbits and with some of the other elves, though I was careful to keep him out of Craig's line-of-sight.

Seems I wasn't the only one who lusted after our 'King'.

For the most part it worked, but there were nights I know he cried for Sean. Those nights I was there, I covered my ears, or if he was talking to me, pretended to listen as he spoke so lovingly of Sean's green eyes and his golden hair with the highlights. I saw the smile of reminiscence light up his face and it was all I could do not to scream at him.

Then the bastard returned like the promised son of Gondor he played.

Just showed up on Viggo's doorstep like a prodigal son and it was as if I no longer existed. Viggo immediately fell for him again, as if those weeks of separation and heartbreak had never happened.

No one - and I meant - no one ever treated me like that.

I tried to warn him - that Sean had let him down once, and more likely than not he would do so again.

But Viggo was hopelessly in love and wouldn't listen to me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now they were here, still a pair.

Everyone was full of praise at Boromir's death scene and it just made me gag.

Anytime someone started waxing poetic at how touching that part of the movie was, my eyes glazed over.

The dirty buggers weren't acting at all.

Of course they managed to convince the audience when Sean looks at Viggo full of love and devotion and whispers: "My king" - Sean wanted nothing more than to surrender to him...

And yes it seemed real, when Viggo leans over Sean all teary-eyed with emotion, tenderly stroking his face - I know he wanted desperately to feel Sean's body beneath him.

Oh yes, Viggo/Aragorn threw himself into the fight with that enormously ugly orc to protect Sean/Boromir and he looks so believable - and why not - Even in real life Viggo would be willing to risk himself for Sean.

How the hell can that be called acting?

There's only one moment that, if you know what to look for, proves that neither of them were acting - when he has to force himself to kiss Sean's forehead instead of his mouth. It's only a split-second, blink and you'll miss it - but at the last Viggo catches himself and moves his lips upward.

Peter said that he kept that in to demonstrate the depth of Aragorn's love for his comrade, but I knew better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And here they were in front of me in a corner of the hotel's restaurant and I was filled with so much jealousy, like poisoned arrows striking my heart. It was like this black void eating away at my soul, watching them together. Viggo stroked Sean's cheek with such tenderness and possession, cradling it like something precious. It should have been me that he looked at that way, not Sean.

Yes, I hated Sean, but I had always been aware of how sexy the man is too - all golden skin and hair and those damn green eyes and that little thing he does with his upper lip. I hated Sean and I wanted him too...

I watched as Sean's lips bestowed a heated kiss on Viggo's open palm.

My breath caught in my throat, feeling the shivery electricity of the gesture from my vantage point.

I watched as they stood up and walked out of the restaurant...

And I knew that I shouldn't follow, that what I felt was about to happen I didn't want to see with my own eyes, but I couldn't help it.

So I followed them anyway, careful to stay as far back without losing sight of them.

The stairs led to a dead end beneath the first floor, a little space under the stairs with no door connecting to it. That was where Viggo and Sean withdrew. I crouched down, able to see everything through little gaps in the banister.

I heard Viggo's soft purring voice with its rich and low timbre. His voice had the power to make me come undone every time he spoke, and now was pitched low, a lover's voice - satin against my skin.

Sean pulled Viggo to him in a greedy kiss...a kiss that made every other kiss I've seen or experienced seem fake. It was a kiss that screamed ownership, lust...desire.

That should have been me kissing Viggo that way - not Sean.

"Bend over."

I heard Viggo's harsh sexy hiss and instantly I became hard, the little hairs on my skin prickling. My palms itched, and I put them on the railing of the banister, kept them from where I knew they wanted to be.

Panting...muffled protests...

Beneath me, two more levels below in a dead end stairway, Viggo and Sean wrestled in a silent fight.

It was a strange sight, these two men in their fine suits, but now with bare chests - half cultivated, elegant celebrities, half untamed savages.

One of them was going to be fucked. I didn't know who...

But one of them should have been me.

"Don't tell me you don't want it, Sean..." There was this breathless teasing heat in Viggo's voice. "You know you do...I can feel how hard you are for me...how badly you want me to fuck you..."

A snarl and growl, more rustling of clothes, then suddenly Sean was yanked round, his back against Viggo as one hand took hold of his hips, the other clamped his neck in a vice grip, and Sean's pants were nearly torn to shreds.

I wondered how the bastard was going to explain that?

It didn't seem to bother him as his hands were against the wall, his ass shamelessly presented to Viggo as if daring the other man to do what he promised.

"...Look at you, Sean...you're nothing but a whore for my cock..." He spanked him hard across his naked buttocks. "I should discipline you...Unfortunately, there's no time for that so I guess I'll just have to do this..."

With the word this I saw Viggo sheath himself up to the hilt in Sean's eager body, at the same time pressing his throat harder to cut off the air supply and stifle Sean's hungry cries.

My eyes nearly fell out, and I nearly fell over the banister, watching these two gorgeous men drive each other towards oblivion, skin to skin, olive brown on light gold.

God, how I wanted them, not just Viggo, but Sean too. I wanted Sean especially, to punish him for being the man Viggo chose instead of me. I wanted to fuck Sean hard and make him scream...until he tasted me in his mouth...

...I wanted to be in Sean's place right now, my ass in Viggo's firm grasp, a slut for whatever he wanted...

...I wanted to be in Viggo's place, feeling Sean's body shuddering from the force of each thrust...

I nearly forgot to breathe, my heart almost forgot to beat, my brain ceased to think - there was only one part of my body that made itself known to any consciousness I may have still had.

Viggo's quick and deep thrusts suddenly slowed down to a more even rhythm, but the muscles of his ass tensed even more. To see these muscles working, skin flexing above his perfectly shaped buttocks was driving me insane with lust.

I knew Viggo was close - I could taste it in the very air around me. I held my breath, my knuckles white against the rails that I gripped so tightly they should have shattered from the force.

...and then with an almost primal growl, Viggo spilled himself deep into Sean's ass, sighing deeply as the sounds of raw, pure pleasure and lust filled the secret space.

I saw Viggo quickly reach for Sean's cock, and at the mere contact, Sean's whimpers finally turned to moans and he came almost immediately all over Viggo's hand.

Sean nearly collapsed and Viggo let him slide down to the floor, stretching his hand out before him in a silent order, sighing in pleasure again as he watched Sean, prostrated before him, on his knees, cleaning his hand with his tongue.

Who knew that the 'little bit of rough' could be such a submissive?

Sean stood up and they kissed, Sean feeding his come to Viggo.

I closed my eyes, burning, unable to take much more, but knowing this was my punishment for having been a voyeur to such a moment.

I also didn't know whom I hated the more.

"Next time you'll be on your knees, Mortensen," I heard Sean murmur huskily. "I'll fuck your mouth until you can barely breathe and then come in your face. And if you don't beg properly to give me satisfaction I won't let you come. You will beg for it, Viggo."

I saw them lock eyes and it was like two raging fires, one deep blue and the other a smoky green.

They were dueling with their eyes, challenging the other for dominance, staring the other down.

Then suddenly Viggo kissed Sean on the top of his nose: "Any time, love...anything you want..."

They both laughed softly as they begun to collect themselves, the tension melted into amusement.

I stretched my legs, rose quietly from where I'd been, needing to be as far away from them as possible. I don't know how I'd bear it now in their company, knowing that I'd smell them on each other.

"God I love you so much, Sean..."

"Love you too, you bastard..."

Those words were like poison to my ears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later and I was just not in the mood for this.

I went back to my hotel room and took care of my raging hard-on, closing my eyes and mind to everything but the need for release.

I tried not to re-live the images of Sean and Viggo in the hotel stairwell, to no avail - the memories were too vivid. When I finally came, I fell to my knees, breathing heavily, eyes shut tight against the tears that wanted to fall.

By the time I made it back to the restaurant, I had decided that somehow, someway, I was going to have Viggo for my own and if I had to step on Sean to accomplish that goal, so much the better.

After all, I still owed him for not staying away.

But as the evening wore on, it seemed that the gods were once again planning on smiling upon their chosen son.

The first thing I noticed was that Sean and Viggo were sitting apart from each other, probably due to Sean's ridiculous desire for discretion.

Obviously Sean Bean had never learned that rules were for suckers. That's something I used to hear Lija always say when he was about to get into trouble.

Things really started getting interesting when Liv arrived.

Viggo's thumbs lifted her chin as his fingers touched the delicate points behind her ears, tenderly and possessively. Viggo's very tactile in all of his kissing scenes, including the one with Boromir.

And he kissed her softly.

I let my eyes flicker towards Sean and - what had we here?

For an instant I saw Sean's features contort with jealousy, before he took a deep breath and regained control of himself.

Well now, wasn't that just interesting...

A little later, Viggo's fooling around with Dom and Billy, mock cuddling and wrestling, with all the prerequisite obscene gestures and foul mouthed comments that would probably make the front page of some scandal sheet.

All in fun, of course.

At least for the three of them.

Obviously a lot less for Sean.

I watched his reaction - watched him shifting in his chair uncomfortably, like Boromir at the council of Rivendell. Like someone who wants to do or say something, but has no choice but to remain still.

Like a jealous and possessive lover...

I couldn't help it, but I was grinning now. The evening was proving to be full of surprises, and the best one yet was knowing that Sean was completely powerless to stop me from taking what I wanted now, especially in public.

So I waited, sipping on my drink until Billy and Dom had hastened off to greet other friends.

Then I made my move.

I knew exactly what I was doing, the way I walked made people stop in mid-conversation as if I was some type of royalty (and in a way, I was). I chose my clothes with care, ensuring that the jeans I wore hugged my body in the right places, revealing the slimness of my hips. My mesh t-shirt stretched over my lean muscles. I could feel invisible hands wanting to touch me...but there was only one set of hands - real ones - that would ever be allowed the privilege.

I walked over to Viggo, smiling hugely as I sat down beside him and casually placed one arm around his shoulder.

All the while, as I was telling Viggo everything that had happened to me since the filming in New Zealand wrapped up, I slowly pulled him closer to me.

Viggo didn´t seem to mind, after all he'd never been reserved when it comes to public displays of affection.

I leaned my short-cropped head against Viggo's shoulder, and as I did so, I stole a glance at Sean beneath lowered lashes. It was all I could do to keep the gloating look off my face.

Oh yes, Sean's green eyes were burning with suppressed rage, his whole body was tense. He was almost completely unable to pay attention to his rather attractive female neighbour sitting beside him, so distracted by me and Viggo.

He watched us cautiously.

But not for long.

Sean stood up brusquely, walking a few steps towards the outdoor terrace. He fixed Viggo with an angry and demanding look.

I could see that Viggo was confused.

Meanwhile Sean just glared at him, the skin above his cheekbone flexing.

Patting me on the shoulder, Viggo rose and said, "Excuse me just for a moment, Orli," He sighed and set to follow Sean outside.

Unlike earlier, this time eavesdropping will be worth it

I heard Sean's heavy accent first, some curses and names - Liv, Billy, Dom and Orlando - no surprise he'd mention me...

There was a short silence between them, then came Viggo's calm, soft voice, "Sean, we've been through all this before. He's just a friend."

"He wants you, Vig. He lusts for you. I know it even if you don't."

"The same as Liv, Dom and Billy do?" Viggo laughed sarcastically. "To hear you tell it, everyone from the damn movie is lusting after me right? Sean, please..."

"Then tell me why there isn't anyone in the cast who can't be seen in a photo kissing you?" snaps Sean.

I saw Viggo's eyes go dark. "Because the one person whom I want to kiss me, won't..."

Ha, I thought to myself. Take that.

"You know why I don't..."

"Of course I do," I could hear the Viggo's anger in his voice. "Wouldn't fit your image as 'a little bit of rough', now would it? But I wouldn't mind if you did..."

I heard Sean's deep intake of breath, as if he'd been struck.

"And if I fucked someone else, that wouldn't matter to you, either?" Sean asked bitterly.

"Sean..."

"Would it be all the same to you, Viggo?" Sean's voice was edgy, clipped.

This was getting better and better.

"Listen to me, damn you." The authority contained in Viggo's voice reminded me of just why he made an incredible Aragorn. It silenced Sean totally. "I know we're together, even if you don't believe I do. I trust when you say no one will ever mean as much to you as I do. And because I believe in and trust our relationship, I'm not jealous. Frankly, I wouldn't freak out just because you might have of a little something on the side."

My eyebrows went way up at that. Well, now...

"And somehow you expect the same thing of me," Sean questioned, obviously outraged. "That I wouldn't mind if you had someone else?"

"No, I don't. But I do expect a little trust. Come here, Sean..." Viggo lowered his voice, tenderly. Obviously they were kissing again, because after some moments that seemed far too long to me, Sean's voice sounded almost breathless.

"I'm sorry, Vig... I...it's just, sometimes..."

"It's okay, Sean. Your jealousy is kind of flattering...sometimes. But you can't change who I am. I've always been someone who likes to touch people. You knew that when we met. Just believe it when I say I belong to you and you alone, okay?"

Bullshit, I thought, and it was all too clear to me now.

Now I knew exactly what I needed to do to get what I wanted...

Chapter Two - Nude Study

A few weeks later I went to see Viggo in Los Angeles. I tried to talk him into hanging out with me at this hot new dance club, but of course Viggo being Viggo and not into the hype of celebrity nightlife stubbornly refused.

So we ended up at this small Argentinean restaurant, eating, drinking beer and talking for hours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I met him the next afternoon at his place.

I had always been curious about his art - his other love, besides horses (and Sean, but I tried not to think about him at all). Thankfully I didn't have to, for he was somewhere in the world filming another movie.

Out of sight was definitely out of mind...

Good.

I was fascinated by Viggo's studio - like a colorful little museum full photos, paintings, drawings, books and poems with the light from the afternoon sun flowing silver-gold through the windows. And there was Viggo himself like a living sculpture surrounded by the fruits of his beautiful imagination. I fell deeper still under the spell - wanting him even more than I could ever want anyone.

"Feel free to look around," he said, calling from the kitchen. "I need about another ten minutes or so. I was just making pad thai for us later...and yes, it's vegetarian!" I heard him chuckle, remembering that I don't eat meat. His chuckle felt like tiny fingers running up and down my spine.

"...The cupboard on the left is private, but everything else feel free to rummage through..."

Of course, temptation beckoned from that forbidden cupboard.

Thank you so much for the tip, Viggo...

As soon as I heard the clattering in the kitchen, and knowing that Viggo gets a little 'involved' with his cooking, I made my way over to the place with secrets...

Ah, Viggo's habit has always been to take photographs anytime and anywhere he can, and what lay before my eyes was as useful as a girlfriend's diary.

However, the last thing I read in Kate's diary was she suspected me of having an affair with Viggo.

Not yet...but hopefully that will change.

My face and body grew hot as my eyes locked onto the glossy black and white images in my hands...

...There was Sean, handcuffed to a bed, his wrists above his head...He looked a little apprehensive, intimidated even, but also hungry...naked and sexy as hell.

I don't want to feel lust for him, but I can't help it. Sean, so helpless, so beguiling...captured on film for Viggo's eyes alone.

Mine and Viggo's, that is.

The next set of photos his expression had changed - he was angry now, obviously Viggo let him wait too long - he looked like he was shouting at Viggo, straining against the handcuffs, writhing wildly. But Viggo it seemed kept right on taking pictures instead of releasing him...

...And god, I saw his back when Sean lay face down...welts, ribbons of raised welts that criss-crossed his back...

I took in a sharp breath, shuddered, but not with disgust. Oh god, I wanted to be Sean, wanted to feel the lash on my back, wielded by the man I adored, the man I craved, blissfully concocting some culinary creation while I stared longingly at the evidence of his passionate violence.

The last few pictures showed Sean calm and peaceful, relaxed, the sweat shimmering on his body, with a faint glimmer in his eyes and kiss-swollen lips...

It didn't take a rocket scientist to guess what happened between takes - and what a fuck this must haven been, I thought enviously.

Sean, that paragon of masculinity, so furious at first, fighting against the restraints, cursing, shouting, but at the last overwhelmed by lust and desire.

Viggo's teasing words from the stairwell rang trhrough - "you're nothing but a whore for my cock..."

I wanted to be Viggo's whore...wanted Viggo to do to me those things he did with Sean...wanted Viggo to hunger for me the way I hungered for him.

I concentrated on calming myself, doing my best to ignore the ache between my legs as I hastily stuffed the revealing photos back in the cupboard.

To take my mind off of the pictures, I looked at some of Viggo's paintings in case he asked for my opinion of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was wonderful, and I expected no less. The man is a genius when it comes to food.

Later Viggo came in with tea - yerba maté for him and Assam for me. I'd had the maté once before and I still don't know how he drinks the stuff, it's noxious.

I draped myself seductively on the couch, parting my legs just so, hoping he'd notice. I wasn't wearing any underwear, and if I played my cards right, soon I wouldn't be wearing anything at all.

We were talking about models, and jokingly I offered myself as one.

"I don't really work a lot with models. Most of the time I'm painting from my imagination, from my dreams...I just like to sit here. It's a bit like going on an inner journey, you know? My studio is like an inner portrait of myself."

From anyone else, I had rolled my eyes, but when Viggo was being profound, I was caught up in his words.

The aspects of an inner journey - a search for self, for meaning... Viggo's main focus with every film.

I didn't joke about his sincerity...if anything it made me love him even more, want him even more.

Couldn´t he see how I felt?

And now I wanted to show him. "Would you draw me, Viggo? I need a present for Kate."

And Kate would never see it...

"Of course I would. With pleasure," Viggo agreed easily.

"But...naked..." I added shyly, tentatively, raising my eyes slowly to meet his. I watched the different reactions play across his face, but nothing registered as he rummaged through his pencils and crayons without looking up once.

"Okay," he murmured softly like the absent-minded artist he was and sharpened a charcoal pencil.

It was obviously the most natural thing for any artist to draw someone naked. Why should drawing me be any different?

Because drawing wasn't the only thing that was going to happen if I had anything to do with it.

I began to strip slowly, teasingly, each item of clothing tossed behind me on the floor as I moved sensuously to some inner beat, my eyes shadowed and licking my lips.

I slid slowly, lasciviously onto the sofa, my buttocks just slightly raised.

" Orlando...behave," Viggo growled, and I knew from his voice that he wasn't unaffected by me.

"Which position," I asked, my tone teasing, seductive.

"And how would Kate want you?"

"How do you want me?"

No answer there as he raised one eyebrow, half amused, half unsure.

"You'll have to arrange me then," I said, pretending to be the perfect artists' model, pretending that I wasn't the least bit interested in him. "You're the one with the eye and I don't know how it looks like from your point of view with the light and everything..."

Viggo walked over to me and began placing those firm, strong hands on my body, shifting me at different angles, pulling back and regarding what he'd done then as quickly discarding it. I burned with every touch, allowed my body to be like clay as he molded me. The soft pressure on my hip, or the way he'd push back a strand of my hair was almost too much to bear.

I almost screamed from the painful torture of what he was doing to me.

Viggo, still fully dressed, leaned over me, very businesslike as he continued concentrating on his work on arranging me to his satisfaction.

Then I just so happened to glance down between his thighs...

Not that distracted, and seeing the outline of his arousal gave me hope.

I listened to Viggo's gently murmured instructions swirl around me as if I was hypnotized, lost in the sound of his voice, the feel of his hands.

"Stay like this...stay exactly like this..."

Normally you couldn't get me to stay still for more than five minutes, being naturally hyperactive, but now I didn't move an inch, and suddenly it was so very easy.

Viggo's eyes were on me like fingertips, almost palpable, measuring me, seeing me through his eyes. And even though I saw no sexual interest in his gaze, even though he stayed perfectly calm while secure under his attentiveness.

Now I was the only thing in the world he had eyes for. There were no other thoughts but me, my body...

No thought of Sean...

I could sense Viggo's sincerity and devotion to his work, and for a second I felt ashamed at what I was doing.

Only for a second as my mind flashed back to those pictures in the cupboard...

"One minute...I know it's exhausting...hold on..."

The words made me snap out of my contemplation.

Viggo's was now drawing faster, his head bowed, barely looking at me. I saw the pencil in his hand move like quicksilver over the paper.

A mad impulse struck me then, and without a second thought I took my cock in my hands and stroked it roughly, arching my hips as I did so...

Actions always speak louder than words anyway.

"Hey!" Viggo looked at me - not shocked, just aggravated. In a mocking tone he said, "If you want me to draw you like that I'm going to have to erase what I've got and do it again."

"I thought," I whispered my voice husky with desire. "Perhaps you can do something else with my parts other than just drawing them..."

He stared at me with wide eyes, mouth slightly parted. Then he put pencil and paper aside.

"Orli...what the hell is this all about?" He got up from his chair, abruptly, but not before I saw him even harder than he'd been moments ago.

I stood up and walked seductively across the room until we were face to face. I placed my hands on Viggo's cheek, caressed him, my fingers trembling, wanting even more...

"Viggo," and I leaned forward, pressing my lips to Viggo's mouth.

I could feel Viggo through his jeans and it's more than clear he wants me. I could taste his want in his kiss, though he allowed me to make all the moves. My tongue slipped between his parted lips and suddenly there was heat and wet and fire and honey and spices and...

Oh god, I wanted him so bad...

Then he pulled back, panting, as if jolted out of a deep and pleasant dream.

"We can't, Orli...we can't..." And he pushed me away from him, but not too far. My thighs were still against his. "Come on, get dressed."

My body and soul were in my eyes and they pleaded with him, and no one has been able to resist me this way. "Why not, Vig?"

Viggo sighed, growling deep. "You know why. I'm with Sean."

"And what of it?" I pressed my aching, naked, needy body close to Viggo again, touching him, pleading with everything I had. "He's not here. He won't ever know...I'm not trying to break up your relationship...I just want to sleep with you...to touch you, taste you...Just once, Vig." My whispers were full of desperate longing, and I felt him respond. " I know you won't leave him... That's not the point. He has you all the time, and he doesn't even deserve you. I've been waiting and wanting you for so long, Vig...Ever since I first saw you..."

Viggo's eyes softened, and I was not certain whether it was his own need combined with my lean hard body, and my hands on him that were causing his resolve to waver.

"Don't you want me?" I whispered breathlessly, taking Viggo's paint-calloused fingers in mine and trailing them down my body. "Don't you want this?"

And I placed our entwined hands on my throbbing cock, hard and hot.

"...Whatever you want, Viggo, I'll do...However you want me..." And I'm telling the truth because I needed him so much right then and there. I began moving those silk and steel hands on me, thrusting into his grip. "...I just want to feel you deep inside of me...I'll be your whore, Viggo...right now...do whatever you want..."

I felt Viggo's grip tighten on me, as if he struggled with what he wanted and what he knew he shouldn't have.

And for a moment in time I knew I would have my heart's desire.

But I never counted on how powerful he truly was.

With a groan, he pulled himself out of my grasp, stepping back a few paces as his eyes flashed darkly.

"You really don't get it, do you Orlando?" I'd never heard him use my full name with such force. Usually he called me Orli like everyone else did. I could see the anger and the desire on his face. "Yes, damn you, I want you. How the fuck could anyone not want you?"

His eyes raked over me like coals, then turned away.

"However, I belong to Sean, and we have an agreement."

A barrel of icy-cold water dumped on my head couldn't have felt any worse than the words that were coming from Viggo's lips.

How quickly my desire turned to rage.

"Oh yes, an agreement," I snarled at him. "You do everything he tells you to like a good little boy, meanwhile he's out there somewhere, all alone - or maybe not, since he admits to having been unfaithful in the past! What makes you think you're any different than his three - count them, Viggo - ex wives?"

I knew I shouldn't have said any of that, but near tears and in pain from his rejection, I lashed out venomously. I never noticed the look of cold calm that had clouded Viggo's features or I would have fallen to my knees and begged.

"Be honest Viggo, none of this monogamy-shite makes any sense to you and we both know it. In your world there's room enough for other people without denying Sean any less of you. Don't you have the right to be who you are in this relationship, or is it all about Sean's wants, Sean's needs? What about your needs?"

And when I finally met Viggo's eyes, I knew nothing would ever be the same.

"You may be perfectly right, Orlando," he said in tone so distant my heart nearly shattered. Oh god, if I could just turn the clock back, just for a few moments, I would have - just to hear him call me 'Orli' again.

But it was too late.

"If I had my way, Sean and I would have an open relationship. Maybe someday, when Sean understands how much I truly care for him, that will happen. But for now, I know how much it would hurt Sean."

Without seeing the pain in my eyes, his gaze bored into my soul.

"I love him, Orlando. I would do anything for him. I won't hurt him, even though your offer is very tempting...and it is, I won't lie to you about that. But I'm faithful to him and that's all there is to say."

Chapter Three - Temptation in the Desert

Things just couldn't have gotten any worse than to find out that, of all the male actors in the bloody world the director had to choose from, Sean bloody Bean had been cast in the role of Odysseus.

So here I was, stranded on the tiny, boring island of Malta with the man I hated most in the world and somehow I had to stay out of his sight.

Of course, that wasn't in his plans at all.

He was one of the very last people I wanted to see. My pride had taken a direct hit and I blamed him for it.

No one had ever rejected me the way Viggo did that night, and it hurt like hell. Anyone I seduced, I got, simple as that.

The morning after that disastrous night I woke up next to some dark-haired young man I had somehow managed to pick up at some pub where I had gone to drink myself into forgetfulness. After he'd left, with a kiss and a promise from me that we'd see each other again (and I had no intention of ever seeing him period) that failure continued to eat at my self-respect as I tried to forget.

And now the cause for my shame, my pain - that handsome cocky Brit - was here to remind me every day of what I couldn't have, though I deserved it more than he did.

The more I relived that night in my mind, the more resolved I became. I would have my Viggo in the end, no doubt. If I couldn't get at him directly, there was another way.

There was only one way to turn my humiliation into triumph...

I had to seduce Sean.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It seemed that Viggo didn't tell Sean anything about that afternoon at his place, for Sean was really nice to me during our time in Malta.

Maybe he felt a kinship with me because of what we had shared in New Zealand. Maybe he was so sure of Viggo that he didn't see me as a rival anymore.

Well, no matter. Whatever Sean's reasons were, they were going to make things easier.

We were sitting side by side on the set in full costume, me as the Trojan playboy Paris, and him as the wily Odysseus, making catty comments about Brad Pitt, who seemed to be taking his role as Achilles far too seriously.

"He wouldn't be so arrogant if the writers actually stuck to the story," Sean said with a half-smile.

"Why not," I asked him. I know, I should have read Homer's Iliad in school, and perhaps I did and had just forgotten.

Sean's look of innocence was a warning. "In the Iliad, Odysseus exposed Achilles who was dressed as a girl living on the island of Lesbos by placing a sword amongst some feminine accouterments." I laughed at that as Sean continued. "The rest of the women went all giggly over the other things, but Achilles, true to his warrior's heart, went right for the sword."

"Oh, and I could just imagine how Brad Pitt's female fans would react to their sex god dressed as some sweet little transvestite."

Sean shrugged. "Probably the same way they reacted to him almost kissing Tom Cruise in ´Interview With the Vampire´...they just lusted after him even more."

Looking at him, I could tell he was glad of the camaraderie between us. "Sean," and I looked into his eyes. "I'm really glad we're getting along now. Always thought you hated me."

He nodded. "Sorry, mate. It wasn't your fault... but let's not dwell on the past, okay?"

I agreed eagerly, as if I was really glad that we were friends. "Okay. And I think we should celebrate our newly found friendship by hitting practically every pub on this miserable island tonight. Just you and me..."

"Sure Orli, sounds like fun. But if there's a footie match on, you just might have to pry me loose from the stool."

That's right, Sean Bean, the insane Sheffield United fan. So insane that he had 100% Blades tattooed onto his arm.

Maybe we wouldn't hit every pub; even one would serve my needs. It couldn't hurt if Sean got a little bit drunk. Not too drunk... just enough to loosen the tongue...

And hopefully some other limbs.

I continued laying the foundation of his seduction.

"Man, you and Viggo have been together for so long now. I really admire you guys. Don't know whether I could deal with that."

Sean looked at me quizzically. "What about you and Kate?"

I rubbed my fingers through my hair, matted as it was from having worn a helmet. "Off and on...sometimes more off than on, if you know what I mean. She's insanely jealous - calls me three or four times a day, wondering whom I'm with, where I am...I'm just thankful that I don't share Viggo's opinion on faithfulness..."

I saw the frown appear on Sean's face but pretended not to notice it.

Nothing unusual there, since people always said I talked a mile a minute.

"Viggo and I talked a lot in New Zealand when you went back to London, you know? He told me he wanted an open relationship, thought that jealousy was bullshit. What did he say - oh yes, 'if you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with', that sort of hippie-style philosophy."

I shrugged as if it's not that important as I gazed quickly to see what effect my words were having on him.

It amazed me how little it took to make the cool and aloof Sean Bean into a nervous little boy who knows his hand didn't belong in the apple tarts. He was shifting in his chair, licking his dry lips.

I waited, knowing what he was going to ask.

Sean was silent, lowering his lashes, and then looked up again, searching my eyes.

"Orli...did you...I mean...did he?" And I could tell he felt ashamed and angry at himself for asking such a question.

I twist the knife in a little deeper. "You mean, did Viggo fuck me?"

"Yes. Did he?" Sean asked, reluctantly.

Oh, the temptation to lie was so damn hard to resist.

Perhaps Sean wouldn't have believed me if I said yes, but at least he would have started having doubts about Viggo's faithfulness again.

That was all I needed.

On the other hand, knowing Sean like I did, he'd jump on the next plane back to the States and confront Viggo, and Viggo would deny it.

But, who would Sean believe? Especially knowing how much Viggo believed in an open relationship. But - Viggo would never forgive me if he figured out that I had lied and I didn't want to risk that. There was no sense in burning my bridges if I didn't have to.

"No, Sean." I replied quietly, almost hesitant. "Nothing happened between us."

Not for lack of trying, I wanted to say.

But the look I gave him was priceless, and I saw that Sean didn't believe me.

Too rich!

Here I was, telling the absolute truth and Sean thought I was lying, because I gave my answer with so much caution and hesitation!

I couldn't have planned this any better.

Sean looked lost and helpless.

"Nothing ever happened between us...Not even the night he drew me naked."

"He's drawn you naked." Less of a question and more of a statement. His voice was toneless, dry.

I gasped as if I had revealed some dark secret. "He didn't tell you? It was to have been something for Kate, that's all."

"No...he didn't mention it."

I'm playing complete innocent to the hilt. "It wasn't a big deal. I asked him to sketch me, thinking Kate would love something really personal from me. You know, I didn't think there would be an issue because you and he are together so I knew nothing would happen..."

But Sean didn't seem to be listening anymore. He stared without focusing, his hands were shaking.

I leaned down and took his strong, deft hand in mine.

"I'm so sorry Sean, but you have to believe me...nothing happened that night..." I began to caress the fingers slowly, massaging them. "I won't lie to you that at one point in time, I was in love with Viggo. Or at least, I thought I was. I know now that I was just infatuated - you know, the older experienced man sort of thing?" I felt the tension inside of Sean ease with my ministrations and I continued by aural assault. "When you and he got together, I realized that maybe I wasn't the one for him. After all, you two have a lot more in common than...I'm just a kid really..."

I saw him smile at that. "You're not just a kid, Orli. I don't think you've ever been that."

My heart almost leapt out of my chest with that smile.

Sean had a devastating smile, one that was warm and hot at the same time. It was both boyish and seductive and I didn't want to be affected by it. He was the means to an end, my way of getting back at Viggo and my way of getting Viggo.

"You know Sean, people like Viggo don't always understand what it means to be jealous. They think it's a stupid emotion, never seeing the pain that causes it..."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that perhaps you should turn the tables...flirt a little and watch the effect on his attitude..."

Sean shook his head. "It wouldn't work. He's not the jealous sort. He says he's sure of our relationship, sure of me. Hell, I'm probably wrong for doubting him..."

I rolled my eyes as if Sean was completely daft. "Of course he's not jealous. You've never given him one single reason to be so. He doesn't think you have it in you to find someone who could ever be viewed as a rival for your affections..."

My hands slowly moved upwards, gently stroking his bronzed forearm, lightly tickling near the elbow.

I saw his eyes lower, obviously affected by my touch. "So, you think I should fuck someone else just to show him what jealousy feels like?" Sean asked dryly. "Don't you think that would be a little unfair to the other person, for them to just be a way to make a point?"

I gazed at him thoughtfully, my eyes wide and soft. The look might have been lost on Viggo, but I made damn sure it would not be on Sean. "Hypothetically, you wouldn't sleep with just anyone, right? You'd want someone who doesn't have any emotional ties to you or Viggo."

Sean chuckled softly, "That takes you off the list then, doesn't it?"

Me and my big mouth, having realized too late what I'd said.

"As tempting as it may sound, Orli, I seriously doubt it would work." I feel him slowly begin to retreat. "What happens if he decides to react differently than I'd planned?"

"He really couldn't say or do much, considering that he prides himself on not being jealous."

Sean sighed, shaking his head. "It's not that important to me anyway. I love him too much to risk losing him. Besides, a good bluff might work even better."

I did my best to keep the scorn out of my laughter. "Nothing against your acting talent, Sean, but I don't think you can fool Viggo. He's rather perceptive in case you haven't noticed."

But I realized that I've already lost him here, so I needed to do my best to salvage the situation.

Besides, there would be more opportunities...

I'd have another go, just needed some patience - but at least I had shaken Sean's belief in Viggo again...

I clapped Sean on the shoulder, grinning. "You know, I'm really happy that you feel comfortable talking to me about you and Viggo. I love you guys and just want you both to be happy. If anything, I know what you're going through..."

Oh yes, I knew far better than he ever would. Knew what it felt like to want someone so deeply that seeing them with someone else cut like a knife.

Sean ran a friendly hand through my hair, ruffling it. "You and Kate are young. You'll work it out, I'm sure."

It took everything I had not to hit him then. I hated him, hated his sincerity, and hated the fact that I wanted him too...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During a lull in the shooting schedule, Sean and I drove to the beach. As was my usual habit, I got the idea to have a picnic with him and forced the older man out of his hotel room. In spite of his mock protests, and the fact that the Blades were having the crap kicked out of them by the French team, it hadn't been too difficult to bundle him into my tiny rental car, along with towels, sunscreen (I do burn if I'm not careful), and two bottles of wine I'd brought along, gifts from a rather friendly bartender.

We walked across the Golden Bay and over a dune to the next bay, talking about the movie, our various aches and pains, and our co-stars. In those moments, it was hard for me to remember that Sean was prey, not friend. He teased me, but he'd progressed far beyond most people and didn't talk down to me because of my age. He also listened to me, as I told him about my feelings for Kate and how I felt neither of us was ready for anything serious.

By the time we reached the quiet bay, it was early afternoon, but still afternoon.

I forgot to mention where I brought him - it's the gay beach of Malta.

That little bit of information had been freely disclosed by a young man I'd met at the dance club last night, and I made a point of telling him that I'd be there...with a friend...

So we swam a bit, racing out as far as we could then racing back. Sean's a very strong swimmer and by the time I reached shore I was almost out of breath.

Then I saw something that practically took my breath away.

It's true what they say about Speedos. On some men they're a fashion disaster, but they were tailor made for Sean's magnificent body. The way his legs and hips tapered towards that almost indecent wisp of black spandex - I could see the outline of his cock through the shiny wet material.

Thankfully he didn't notice my hungry stare, just laughed and said, "Next time I'll give you a head start, elfboy."

The rest of the afternoon was spent resting and talking some more. With his eyes closed, I took my time exploring Sean's body with my eyes and liking everything I saw. In spite of it, seducing him would be a pleasure, and perhaps after Viggo and I were together for awhile, I could convince him to bring Sean into the relationship for a bit of fun.

I didn't even want to imagine what it would be like to have both of those virile men having their way with me...

As the day winded down, the beach slowly grew more crowded, and mostly male.

"Is it me, or have we accidentally discovered the gay beach?" Sean asked with amusement in his voice.

I pretended to scan the crowd looking for anything remotely feminine, then replied with a chuckle, "I think you're right. Oh well, as long as they think we're a couple, we shouldn't have too many problems..."

I spotted the young man - Andreas was his name - I'd met last night and he waved, walking over to us, his eyes wide as he gazed at Sean like he'd rather I went away.

"Hey," he greeted us in his lilting English, eyes still fixed on Sean's body. "We're going to have a fire later on and Alexion brought ale...come by and join us if you like."

I looked over at Sean, who somehow didn't notice that Andreas was practically undressing him with his eyes, and if given the smallest encouragement would do a lot more that that. "Sounds like fun," I answered and Sean just nodded.

Sean put a pair of drawstring linen pants on instead of his swim trunks, giving me and Andreas a quick but rather nice view of his muscular buttocks. My own swim trunks had dried, so I just put my jeans on.

On our way over to the impromptu gathering, Andreas clasped Sean's shoulder. "Hot little lover you've got there," he said, winking at me as he did so.

"He's not...," Sean was about to say when I drove my elbow into his side.

The look of shock was almost comical, but as soon as Andreas was out of earshot I whispered, "It might be better we pretend we're a couple - that is unless you don't mind being propositioned all night..."

Sean shrugged and laughed, "Okay, I'm going to allow you the honor of guarding my virtue."

The rest of the evening was spent in raucous company, drinking and telling stories. A few of the young men were like us, foreigners either on business or pleasure. Several instantly recognized Sean and immediately started to come on to him in a very big way. Instead of being offended or stand-offish, Sean actually accepted their blatant flirtations with an evenhanded grace that surprised me.

Maybe Viggo truly had better be careful for what we wished for.

Andreas and I meanwhile went to fetch more ale, which they'd kept near the water to stay cool. I noticed that Andreas couldn't seem to keep his hands off of me, and had I not had prior plans, such attentions would have been more than welcome. Now, they were just a distraction.

"...Come on, Orlando," Andreas breathed into my ear, his fingers lightly caressing my bare chest, "I don't think your lover would mind..."

"I don't know," I said as I ducked his attempt to steal a kiss, "Sean can be pretty jealous. He's just behaving right now..."

But Andreas wasn't swayed though he backed off a little, "Okay, but if you ever need a more - intimate - taste of Malta, you know where to look for me," and with a careless swat on my backside, he walked down to the shoreline.

Sean noticed my look of discomfort and reached for my hand. "Everything all right, Orli? I saw you leave with our host..."

"Everything's fine, just another bloke who can't seem to keep his hands to himself."

Sean's eyes twinkled mischievously. "And here I thought you'd have to guard my virtue. Seems I may have to guard yours. Should I land him a facer then?"

"That won't work, though it might be something to see," I joked. "No, they'll keep trying to seduce me as long as they think we're not a couple. Maybe if you kissed me, everyone will get the point."

And I slowly encircled Sean's neck with my arms, pulling him to me, but he hesitated, eyes unsure and I feigned hurt. "Come on, Beanie. Just a little snog between friends...How bad can that be?"

I pulled Sean to me again, this time with a little more force and I felt him give way...why shouldn't he, it was just a little snog between friends...

Right...and you've never kissed or been kissed by Sean Bean before.

It burns, and in a good way. It was like the time I snuck a bit of my dad's one-hundred year-old whisky, the way it went down my throat like liquid fire.

I kissed Sean with the selfish need to make him forget everything but my lips on his own and the playing tongue that entered his mouth with gentle pushes.

Somehow his taste intoxicated me in return. It was different from Viggo - more powerful, less restrained, and I could feel him holding back.

I wanted to feel everything he had.

I pulled Sean on top of me, until we lay supine on the blanket. My hands were everywhere and Sean was panting into my mouth. The taste of salt, ale and sweat flavored our kiss.

"Sean..." I breathed against his lips, "I had no idea how it would feel to kiss you..."

And I really hadn't, but I wanted more.

We rolled around on the blanket, our erections pressed against each other through our clothes. Finally Sean was on top of me, my slender body caught between his muscled legs, and his searching tongue dancing inside my mouth.

Oh yes, Sean...that's it...

If we had been alone, I would have had Sean right where I wanted him, never giving him a chance to regain his self-control, never giving him a chance to think about Viggo.

Unfortunately there was an audience and they were loving every moment. They spurred us on with shouts of lewd encouragement, laughing and clapping their hands. Personally, I'd fuck Sean right here in front of them, give them a show they'd never forget, but Sean was brought down to earth and slowly withdrew from me, suddenly sober.

Now for my next act...

"Oh god, Orli...I'm sorry...I didn't mean for it to get so out of hand..." Sean swallowed nervously, embarrassment and guilt so clear on his face.

I lowered my head in apology. "No Sean, I'm at fault. It was just meant to be a lark, that's all. I feel like I've gone and done something horrible..."

Sean patted me on the back, raised my head up with gentle hands. "It's ok, Orli, no harm done...Just the heat of the moment, I think..."

"But I shouldn't have...should have stopped before it went too far...but god, it was just so magnificent to kiss you...and I shouldn't feel that way because you and Viggo..." I looked up at him with alarm. "You won't tell him about this...it was just a mistake..."

Sean smiled wryly. "Wouldn't matter if I did tell him. Viggo's not the jealous type, remember?"

Not yet, I thought to myself.

Sean rose from the blanket. "Look, I'll head back to the hotel. What about you?"

"I'm going to stay a little longer...the night's still young."

And by the time the night was over, I became more than a little acquainted with Andreas and his friend Alexion...

And though both men satisfied the temporary ache left by Sean and Viggo, nothing would fill the void until Viggo was mine.

Chapter Four - Caravaggio's Painting

Three days later I passed by the hotel reception counter and flashed my most winning smile to the young clerk across the desk who I knew had a very big crush on me - then again in this place, who didn't?

"Is Mr. Bean is his room," I asked, my eyes at their most flirtatious.

The man smiled and put down the receiver he'd been holding. "Yes, Mr. Bloom," he answered shyly as I leaned over close enough to touch, "And I was just going to let him know that a message just arrived for him."

"Oh well then, I can take it with me," I replied breezily. "I'm on my way upstairs. No sense in anyone making an extra trip, right?"

He didn't even hesitate, just handed the envelope to me, and I allowed our fingers to linger longer than necessary.

With a wink and a jaunty wave, I walked off, craning my head to see my young desk clerk blow a kiss in my direction.

As soon as I was around the corner, I took the opportunity to open the envelope and retrieve the contents.

Viggo, as I had assumed...

Dearest Bean,

The house is quiet without you and I've been painting a lot - I thought that would be a good thing until I realized just how much I've missed having the sound of your voice, even when you're screaming bloody murder at the t.v. over your football matches (I want to call it soccer, but I know it drives you to distraction when I do). I've tried to keep the place in order, but it doesn't seem quite as clean, and yes, I have watered your plants, but they seem rather forlorn too. I even tried to do laundry, but I forgot about what goes in which temperature and well - two of your Sheffield United shirts are an interesting shade of pink. I tried to make strawberry pancakes and started sobbing into the batter because I thought of you...silly isn't it, a grown man crying over a lover away on location. I miss you. I miss you reminding me to do little things like eat or come to bed. I miss the warmth of your body next to mine, miss your kisses, miss the feel and taste of your body underneath my tongue...miss having you naked and wanton beneath me...miss those green eyes when almost black with desire. I miss fucking you until you scream my name, miss loving you until you you're sighing your pleasure...and I can't believe any of it. So I'm just saying to hell with it and am flying over there tomorrow and will arrive at five o'clock...Love, Viggo.

Shit.

My heart took a nosedive for more reasons than the most apparent one. True, I was running out of time, but if it were possible to hate Sean Bean even more, then at that moment I did - to have someone like Viggo write such a letter, saying how he missed him...and all Sean would do was either laugh it off or get embarrassed by Viggo's passionate sentiments.

Sean planned to visit St. John's Cathedral in Valetta tomorrow and he had asked me to accompany him. He wanted to see Caravaggio's depiction of the murder of St. John the Baptist. Since being with Viggo, not only had his appreciation of art grown exponentially, there was also an obvious personal interest in Caravaggio since his having played the murderer-slash-muse Ranuccio in Derek Jarman's film.

Nothing personal, but churches were not high on my list of places to see with Sean, especially since all my thoughts concerning the man were anything but holy.

Now it seemed this would be my last opportunity to seduce Sean before Viggo arrived.

Then again, I often work better under pressure.

And the message? Of course I didn't deliver it. Sean would have changed his plans and waited for Viggo the entire day at the airport.

Looked like this former altar boy was going to church after all...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, before Sean and I went off to Valetta, I hired a taxi-driver (in Sean's name) to pick up Viggo at the airport and bring him to the hotel. I bribed the clerk to let Viggo in Sean's room, telling him it was to be a surprise for Sean.

The information in Sean's travel guide proved to be wrong and we ended up on one of the days where the church was closed. Sean appeared crestfallen but I persuaded him to take advantage of our fame.

Many people recognized us from our past films, like 'Rings, and that included the caretaker of St. John's when I rang the bell of his flat near the church.

After a strenuous bout of signing autographs and snapping pictures for practically the man's entire extended family, Sean and I were rewarded with the key to a small hidden entrance to the church.

We slipped in, and I carefully locked the door behind us.

A few minutes later we stood together facing the infamous painting in one of the side-rooms of the church. The room was dark with only a dim light trickling through a small window, supported only by the faint flickering of candles, shimmering yellow and red, while shadows danced and crept over the thick walls.

"That painting is so creepy, and yet...," I whispered, the sensation of icy fingers trailing down my spine. "John the Baptist is so young and beautiful, with his long blond hair and his face as pretty as a girl's. And there he is, almost naked, with his hands tied behind his back, his ass lifted up...if it wasn't for the blood pouring from his throat, I'd swear that half-naked executioner had other plans than to kill him."

Sean grinned mischievously. "Oh yes, Caravaggio was one sneaky bastard. He slept with his models, you know - men and women both - and there's little doubt this painting is about the lust for the young man tied down. But 500 years ago just like today in the media, it was no problem to show a brutal murder, but impossible to confront the audience with open sex between men."

Sean took my hand and led me closer still, his eyes transfixed on the scene before us. His touch was electrifying, sending passionate currents throughout my body. He didn't look at me as he continued:

"Look at the man above John who's pushing his head to the floor...the corner of his loincloth points exactly to John's ass. You find a lot of not-so-subtle hints like that in many of Caravaggio's paintings. He made it as clear as possible what he wanted to say - any more distinctly and he'd have ended up tortured and burned at the stake. But seen as a vicious murder and a martyrdom, the painting earned him widespread praise, fame and honour. Who knows," Sean mused almost dreamily, "Maybe the real meaning of the painting, the inherent homosexual and sadistic desire for possession of the body of a beautiful young man fuelled the fantasies of the priests and monks who saw it..."

"So, it's really just lust disguised as murder." I contorted my mouth with disgust, but wasn't disgusted at all. The more I stood there, looking at John with his pert, almost feminine ass in the air, the more I saw myself in his place - forced to submit, the danger inherent in the desire I had for Viggo...and even Sean...

I lit some more candles and carefully examined the room while Sean continued his silent vigil.

I sat down at a church pew, wondering just what the hell I was doing here, confused by a slow growing lust for the golden-haired man who was my only rival for Viggo's affections. Sean's steps echoed quietly as he crossed the room and sat down beside me.

"Caravaggio," Sean murmured thoughtfully, "Acted out his violent passions in his art. He was a murderer nevertheless, but who can say how many acts of violence have been and still are prevented by the arts because the creator uses their art as an outlet."

Painting...or acting...

I had seen Sean in "Essex Boys" and couldn't help experiencing a split second of fear as I realized how easily the part came to him.

The thought had occurred to me before and I remembered an acting teacher trying to drum the concept into my head, but now - now I truly and honestly understood - that acting didn't mean to fake feelings and motivations, but to reach for them deep inside and let them out.

It all made sense now - how Sean, and even more so Viggo, could portray so many dark and violent men in their films, because they already had those passions within themselves, just as we all did.

Though Viggo's a peacenik and Sean was a cultivated, elegant man, though they could control their wild and "slightly mental" side, it was all right there - like when Michelangelo said he didn't have to invent the sculptures when he worked the hard marble, they were already inside and he just fetched them out.

Sean and Viggo expressed their dark sides while acting - and even when making love, reminding me of their heated exchange in the stairwell...of the glossy black and white photos I'd seen in the cupboard...

Just as Caravaggio did while painting...

...The image of Sean as Ranuccio, a thief and a murderer who himself became a victim, his throat sliced like St. John's in the painting...

The image began to blur until Sean/Ranuccio's faces imprinted themselves upon my psyche, until something seemed to block my way, insisting on its importance, like a warning...

I don't know how and why, but I shoved all caution aside.

I had waited far too long to let the opportunity that I felt was within my grasp slip by. I knew it might be dangerous to wake up the wildness in Sean, but I'd tried every other way and it seemed to be the last possibility, and somehow this painting suited my purposes.

"When I ignore the blood," I said quietly turning to him with growing desire in my eyes, "It turns me on..."

Sean looked surprised and I locked eyes on him, burning him with my stare.

"Did you ever do anything like that, Sean?"

"You mean...bondage..." Sean shifted nervously, turning his profile to me.

The prominence of his features, the proud hawk nose and his well-shaped chin marked an interesting contrast to the awkward nervousness, as he ran his fingers through his hair.

The thought of Viggo softened him, made him vulnerable...

I realised at once... He missed Viggo... missed the sex with Viggo, just as Viggo missed the sex with him. It was hard for him to fight the memories and fantasies my question had brought to the fore.

Hang on, I thought to myself, sensing imminent victory was closer now than it had ever been before, don't let him off the hook now...

"Tell me, Sean," I pressed, breathlessly, whispering, as if Sean had already admitted "yes" to my last question. "What does Viggo do to you when he dominates you...?"

I moved closer, lips parted for a kiss, my hand resting lightly on his shoulder. "Does he make you beg...does he punish you until you obey... until you do anything he wants you to...?" Sean's eyes narrowed, the green swallowed by the darkness within him. I felt the war within him, saw him gripping the wooden pew, his knuckles white with the effort.

"...Does he try to break you when you defy him? Do you hate him for making you want to be broken, want to be beaten... want to get down on your knees and beg...?"

Sean's breathing grew more unstable. It was more confusion than excitement or anger...he was upset, completely in a mess.

I knew it was dangerous to direct all that dark energy he radiated towards me. I didn't really want him to dominate me - I wanted to be the one in control, but as I looked into the maelstrom of his eyes, I could feel myself slowly and steadily losing control, and I didn't care.

There was only one path to his seduction, even though my heart was racing with fear.

Then I pushed all the way, knowing that whatever happened, I would never go back. "I saw the pictures, Sean...I saw what he does to you...Sean...did you ever want to do that to someone else?"

I saw he knew, and the look he gave me almost made me want to run as fast as I could from that shrine to one artist's perverted lusts.

The incidents of the last days appeared in a different light now and I saw the dawning realization in Sean's green eyes as he understood that I had been out to seduce him from the beginning.

There was ferocity, cold desire and rage...those very things I'd seen in his films from The Big Empty to Golden Eye...

"Sean..." a little squeak, faint and thin, but I knew I couldn't stop him now.

I wasn't quite sure I wanted to...

I can't say he was brutal, but he certainly wasn't kind. At my attempts to resist he only used as much force as was necessary to keep me still, and he was so unbelievably strong that it wasn't much of a struggle. In an instant he had me pinned to the floor, my cheek rubbing against the cold tiles, one of his hands holding my neck down, both of my wrists captured in his other hand, so that I was forced in the same position as St. John in the painting above us.

Ironically, that was where my gaze went, and in that moment John and I formed a partnership forged in blood that transcended centuries.

Even though he couldn't hold both my wrists with one hand when I tried to free them in earnest, he just turned my arm and tightened his grip at my throat enough to let me feel what he could do to me, and I realised all I could achieve was to make it more painful for me.

Despite my sudden fears, I also saw how absurd it was that I now fought against what I'd wanted to happen for so long. It never had occurred to me that I might not want it the way it would happen, thinking only of the end result.

Sean turned my arm again, just to distract me with a sudden short pain and pulled down my trousers without even unzipping them (that's the disadvantage if you have slim hips). I heard the sound of his zipper being undone that sounded like a thunderclap in the silent edifice, and then a burning, searing fire tore through me as he shoved deep inside and fucked me.

I couldn't call it rape - after all, one can't rape the willing - but it felt completely impersonal, as if I had randomly pressed a button and started a "program of nature" that simply went automatically into fuck mode.

Sean said nothing, not even a curse, just pounded into me for what seemed like hours, his fingers sinking into the flesh of my buttocks, holding me still. It felt so incredible and I revelled in the sensation of how much he filled me - and yet it felt somehow empty too. I wanted what I'd seen between him and Viggo in the stairwell - I wanted what I had tasted in Sean's kiss a few nights ago.

Sean fucked me hard, and though it wasn't what I'd dreamed of, I still moved beneath him, begging with my body for more. I tried to moan, but he simply placed a large hand over my mouth.

"Don't say a fucking word," he growled hotly against my back, "Just take it..."

And I took it and more, caring nothing for the stone scraping my knees, or Sean's hand on my neck and mouth. I cared nothing for how sore I would be later - it was just enough for him to be inside of me, stroking my sweet spot over and over with his hard cock.

I didn't even spare a thought for Viggo...

When Sean finally came in my ass, I was too far gone in my own orgasm to notice.

Then I felt the immediate loss of his body when he stood up and zipped up his jeans again, leaving me on my knees, my hand covered in my own semen and his come trickling from my bruised hole.

He didn't say a word, didn't offer to help me clean up, just walked away as if it - as if I - meant nothing to him.

Bastard!

I found a piece of semi-clean cloth behind one of the pews and used it to tidy myself up as best I could, then followed him outside where he waited, cigarette in hand, for me to join him.

If I had felt even the slightest remorse for my seduction of Sean, in that moment it had dissipated completely. Oh yes, I would make certain that Viggo heard all the ugly details...

As he drove back, Sean didn't speak in the car either. Once he looked sideways at me, and for a moment it seemed that he would say something, even an apology, but he remained dead silent.

Everything had worked out even better than I had planned it, to a point, but it felt so different than I had imagined.

I didn't want to feel this emptiness - this coldness inside of me.

However, I was determined to go through with what I had started. I had come too far to let it all slip away now...Viggo was one step closer to being mine.

It didn't matter - it shouldn't matter how Sean fucked me - only the result of his losing control. Besides, once Viggo left him (or he left Viggo, I didn't care which) Viggo would make it up to me with days and weeks and months of tender lovemaking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In spite of the pain and the need to shower the smell and the semen from my body, it was more important to me that I accompanied Sean to his room. That was the main reason why I had arranged for Viggo to wait in Sean's room. I wanted to witness his reaction when he saw Viggo. I wanted to watch him squirm.

I wanted to be there when they met.

As we passed by the reception, the clerk winked to me and I knew:

Viggo was waiting up there...

Sean could hardly bear my presence any longer. Even when we took the lift up to our floor, he stood as far from me as the tiny space would allow. The colder he behaved towards me, the more resolute I became. It wasn't as if I'd forced him to fuck me, I thought, wounded pride mixed with the anger I felt at the way he just walked away from the deed.

No, Viggo would definitely be better off without him...

"I need to get my script from your room, Sean," I said just as coldly, as if what had happened back at the church hadn't affected me in the least.

"I'll look for it, bring it tomorrow," he said grumpily, hands in his pockets.

"I was planning to go over some of my lines tonight, that's all. What," and I looked at him with disdain, "You can't possibly think I want a repeat of earlier today. At least most of my lovers leave me with a kiss and a smile."

He growled at that, but let the smart-assed comment pass.

My heart was beating faster than those moments when I was half insane with stage fright.

Viggo was waiting just behind that door.

I remained a few steps behind Sean as I watched him slide the key card into the lock.

"Sean!" Viggo bolted off the sofa and pounced upon him.

Sean blanched.

I smirked.

Things were just about to get very interesting...

Chapter Five - Shattered Illusions

This one moment seemed forever locked in time.

Sean's face was almost drained of colour, horrified as if seeing a ghost or one of the avenging furies shrieking invectives at him. He nearly sank to the floor in a faint, so stricken with guilt and shame.

He must have been wishing that hell would open up and swallow him.

And though I felt something akin to triumph, it didn't feel quite like I thought it would. It was mixed with something else, like a bad premonition.

"Sean..." Viggo asked, concern in his voice.

"Oh my god...Viggo..." Sean groaned as he struggled to maintain his composure.

It was expected he would be caught unaware, shocked and embarrassed at his lovers 'sudden' arrival and I was more than eager to see Sean Bean squirm like a schoolboy caught playing truant. I wanted to hear what lies he would tell, how he would tangle himself up in excuses and lies.

I had also hoped that Sean would somehow react defensively, allow for his guilt to become misplaced anger at Viggo.

Oh yes, it would be more than a pleasure to slowly reveal to Viggo what his precious Sean had really been up to...

After all, I hadn't forgotten nor forgiven Sean's callousness towards me in the church.

But as they say, all the best laid plans...

Not in a million years would I have ever guessed that Sean would do what he did next.

He confessed.

"Viggo...forgive me...I did something wrong...I'm so sorry..."

Oh my god...He actually confessed.

And as Viggo stared at him, without the slightest clue as to what was going on, Sean looked at me in desperation, disgust, guilt, and reproach clearly marked on his sombre face.

After a minute of loaded silence Viggo drawled, toneless:

"You fucked him, didn't you?"

He nodded slowly. "I'm sorry..." Sean whispered, closing his eyes.

"So even though I stayed strong - for you - and don't think you're special or something Sean, because the little slut offered his ass to me first," I gasped, hearing for the second time the venom in Viggo's voice as he referred to my attempted seduction, which had been real and not a game for me, "You just couldn't keep your cock in your pants long enough and went chasing after Orlando's ass. All I want to know is, did you fuck him or did he fuck you?"

"Viggo...let me explain..."

Viggo just pushed him back. "Explain what, Sean? That you brought him back to your room for a nice little after-filming fuck and that my showing up unannounced was bad form on my part?"

His accusations made no sense, but Viggo was in no frame of mind to behave rationally.

He turned on his heels. "Fine then, I'll leave you to shag your little elfboy to your heart's content. There's another flight back tonight..."

And Viggo headed for the door.

Sean went after him immediately, catching his wrist and pulling him back hard. Viggo stood in front of Sean, sullenly staring at him.

"Viggo, please...I know it was wrong but it didn't mean anything...it was just a stupid mistake, that's all. You don't need to be jealous..."

And there it was again, that strange deja-vu where art once again imitated life...

There's a scene in LotR (the extended version), where Boromir and Aragorn argue, with Boromir accusing the ranger of having more trust in elves and dwarves than in his own people.

Aragorn, the arrogant git, merely shrugged free of Boromir's grasp and walked away, not even deigning to give Boromir the barest hint of a reply.

After a few steps he turned back to face Boromir, throwing some harsh words at the other man, telling him in no uncertain terms that the ring would never come anywhere near Gondor.

Interestingly enough, Aragorn never really addressed Boromir's accusation at all. It always seemed to me that Aragorn behaved rather shoddily towards the young captain of Gondor - never giving Boromir the slightest explanation or reason, just merely clung stubbornly to his position, repeating it louder than before, giving Boromir nothing that could be remotely considered as an answer.

Typical Aragorn and typical Viggo - always needing to have the last word.

No wonder Boromir wasn't convinced.

And what was happening right now between them, before my eyes, was exactly the same scenario.

Viggo wrenched himself free with a sudden jerk of his arm, hurrying to reach the door, then suddenly whirled around, addressing Sean sharply, "Just for your information Sean, I don't even take your cheap little piece of ass seriously enough to be jealous."

Ouch, that hurt - and though a retort was poised on my lips, one look at Viggo quelled any impulse I may have had to say anything.

"But I can't accept that after everything we've talked and argued about - after all your little hissy fits when I kiss a friend - that you have the nerve to pull something like this and expect me to trust you..."

Just like Aragorn, only insisting upon his point of view.

"One question, Sean...was he that good?"

And he walked out of the room, leaving Sean breathing heavily, and then lowering his head with sudden frustration, in helplessness and disappointment, doubting himself and revolting inwardly at the same time.

I said before the two of them didn't have to act when it came to Boromir's death scene. What I saw now was so similar to their performance in said quarrel that I began to wonder if they ever acted at all.

But I realised something else, even more important...

Viggo lied.

He was jealous. He was not only jealous, he was insanely jealous, practically foaming at the mouth with jealousy.

His reaction had nothing to do with honesty and trust and all that rot. Though he had not yet admitted it to himself, somewhere he must have realized that everything he thought he believed in - the whole 'open relationship' thing - was nothing more than cheap talk.

I had been more than right after all when I told Sean that perhaps Viggo didn't think he had it in him to find someone who could be viewed as a rival.

Apparently, Viggo realized just how wrong he'd been.

In more ways than one...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I went back to my room, tossing my clothes haphazardly on the floor as I quickly made my way into the shower, wanting nothing more than to wash away Sean's scent from my skin.

As the gentle spray rained down my body, I tried to recollect the events of the day and sort out all my jumbled thoughts.

How should I classify what had happened between Sean and me?

Had I seduced Sean or had he raped me?

And why did it matter so much anyway when I had achieved my aim, which was to separate Sean from Viggo?

And why didn't it feel like I had won?

I felt more like a leader who started a war without thinking of what to do after the enemy was defeated and who realised too late that instead of peace there was nothing left but destruction in the end.

I had damaged the relationship of Sean and Viggo, perhaps permanently, but that hadn't brought me any closer to Viggo.

Believe it or not, though - that wasn't what bothered me most.

I was disappointed in Viggo.

And that was not because he didn't immediately turn to me for comfort, though in the state of mind he'd been in I realistically couldn't see him doing that.

The man had been my idol, my hero, my shining example of every virtue.

It was more than admiration. I truly adored him. In my eyes he was that one perfect person, not only a renaissance man in nearly all the arts, with superior general education in science, politics and philosophy, but also flawless of character, the incarnation of kindness, dedication, courage, strength and - honesty.

I was devoted to him. When he told me to swim across an icy river in the middle of the night, I did it, just because he wanted me to.

And when Sean had selfishly abandoned him, I had done everything in my power could to comfort him, to show him that someone besides the Brit could love him.

I had believed in him. In any given situation he knew what to do or what say. In some ways my respect and my hunger had grown greater even after he resisted me.

But what I had seen half an hour ago was not what I would have expected of Viggo. His behaviour was so immature, hysterical...

Weak.

He was, at the end of the day, just a man...

I knew he was jealous, but he lied - to himself and to Sean.

He was running away to lick his wounds. Not daring to face his problems and talk it out with Sean.

I had loved him for years, regarded him as the only man who was worth my love. If he wasn't the man I saw in him, I took it as personal affront.

Stepping out of the shower, I dried off quickly, donned a fresh pair of jeans while plotting my next move.

Because, for all his failings, I still loved him.

I took the taxi to the airport.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You might laugh at my thoughts. But I have never pretended to be Mother Theresa when actually I was Iago.

What made me different was that I was brutally honest with myself as far as what I wanted. Yes, I had lied, I had cheated, manipulated, schemed, but I knew it and offered no apologies for my actions.

I didn't lie to myself as Viggo did.

I could say, that in expecting perfection from Viggo was rather typical for the sort of juvenile adoration I felt for him.

Nevertheless, I still wanted him. Somehow, and without regard of my disappointment with him, I loved him even more, felt closer to him.

As the cab moved slowly through the twisting, winding streets of Malta, I decided my next move would be to lay the blame for everything on Sean, starting from the kiss on the beach to his ravishment of me in this church.

Sean couldn't very well deny he had attacked me, not when he had already confessed his 'crime' to Viggo.

I needed to explain to Viggo that I had been the innocent victim of his not-so-harmless lover - mind you, I had heard rumours Sean had been sentenced guilty for acts of violence more than once - and it was more than urgent that he didn't leave the island.

If I allowed him to leave now, within a few days he'd regret his actions and realise just how much he had over-reacted. He'd call Sean, they would talk, Sean would beg to be forgiven, and they'd reconcile.

I had no intentions on allowing any of that to happen. Especially not after everything I'd done and had done to me.

Though I hadn't reached my goal, I still was closer to it than I'd been.

All I needed was for their break-up to be a little crueller, less easy for the two of them to sort out. I definitely needed Viggo to hear my version of Sean's infidelity.

I assessed the situation objectively: Currently Viggo was in an extremely violent mood. Good. The only thing I needed to do was to get Sean in a similar mood as well, which wouldn't be a difficult task considering Sean's penchant for striking first and asking questions later. If I played my cards just right and somehow managed to get them in the same proximity, they would beat the living crap out of each other, which would hopefully be the final nail in the coffin of their relationship.

But first things first - I had to make damn sure that Viggo didn't get on that plane.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I entered the terminal, I saw Viggo standing in line to check-in, carrying his backpack in one hand, his wallet and ticket in the other.

He saw me approaching him, froze in his tracks for a second, then behaved as if I weren't even there.

"Viggo!"

No answer. The murderous look in his frightening icy-blue eyes made me pause, shivering and I was glad to be surrounded by so many people or I wouldn't have dared to talk to him.

"Viggo, listen to me...you can't simply..."

"Piss off," he growled through clenched teeth. "Just piss off before I lose control."

It was clear I wouldn't get very far with trying to talk some sense into him. My mouth moved silently, my hands gestured nervously, urgently... and then my eyes fell on the ticket in his hand...

Yes, I've been called impulsive - and worse.

Without a second thought as to what he'd do if he caught me, I snatched both his ticket and wallet from his hands and ran as if the very hounds of hell were on my heels.

"You little shit!" I heard him curse, and then we were sprinting through the airport in a chase that would have done any movie director proud.

Being chased through a not so crowded terminal by an enraged Viggo Mortensen was just as bad as the hounds. After all, a few doggy treats and they're your friends.

Viggo couldn't be bought off as easily.

I ran as if my life depended on it, refusing to look back, to see how close he was, though I thought I could feel his breath on my neck. I knew the man was pretty damn fast, his anger at both Sean and me lending wings to his pursuit, so I simply concentrated on eluding him. I hurdled effortlessly over suitcases and strollers, shamelessly used other waiting passengers and their entourages as obstacles, pushed luggage behind me to thwart him further. I used every dirty trick in the book, every stunt we'd practiced while in New Zealand, weaved in and out of the throng of people, who seemed to me frozen in place.

Somehow, more with luck than anything else, we ended up on opposite sides of a glass wall, staring each other down. He was less than a yard away from my position but far enough for me to feel relatively safe.

I smirked at him through the life-saving glass and triumphantly held up his ticket at one edge.

"If you want it, come and claim it," I taunted him in my best Arwen impersonation.

Yes, doing that was as intelligent as sticking one's head into the jaws of a starving lion, and the full-blown rage on Viggo's face reminded me the only thing between myself and his wrath was a thin pane of glass.

I'd seen that exact same look on Sean's face just before he fucked me in the chapel.

I knew I was treading in dangerous territory, and after my earlier experience with one volatile male, common sense should have warned me from the next course of action I'd decided to take...

But I didn't want him to leave. Not yet.

Ever so slowly I lifted the other hand to the second edge.

Viggo blanched.

I gave him my sweetest, most insincere smile...

...As I tore his return ticket into jigsaw-sized pieces with fiendish glee.

Oh yes, Viggo wasn't going anywhere now.

That had to be one of the best moments in my life, as Viggo stood there completely helpless with rage.

I still had his wallet, but Viggo didn't bother to give chase. With one last death-promising look he simply walked back to where we began, shouldered his backpack that miraculously was still laying there and left the airport.

I no idea what he would do next, whether he kept extra money or a credit card in his backpack, if he had a cell phone or not, and so I just followed him (from a safe distance) and watched him. I needn't have worried though, for it seemed that Viggo just didn't care what I did to him now.

He never once looked in my direction.

For about twenty minutes he sat on a bench in front of the airport, staring at nothing with empty eyes.

I half expected for him to take a cab back to the hotel, but finally he just stood up and started walking and didn't stop.

He walked down the road aimlessly, as if any destination were better than the one he'd left.

I waited until I almost lost sight of his retreating figure, then took off after him.

Chapter Six - Showdown

Viggo was far ahead of me, his stride purposeful as it ate up yards of ground.

There weren't many bushes and trees on Malta, so I could easily make him out even at such a distance. It made no sense to hide. If Viggo ever bothered to look back he wouldn't have noticed that I was trailing him. I had the advantage knowing which of the little moving dots in the landscape was him, because I'd been watching him from the moment he left the airport.

His vague silhouette led me along. I never took my eyes off him for fear I'd mistake someone else for him if I looked away for even just a second.

After half an hour my eyes began to grow tired, as did my legs. It was hot and dusty, and it seemed as if I was following a shadow, a phantom hardly recognizable with bare eyes.

Gods, what the hell was I doing here?

Suddenly it all seemed surreal and absurd to me. Running after a ghost...a silly fantasy...a near-nothing...and yet I was compelled to march behind that commanding figure like a puppy on a long leash.

More than an hour passed, and in the meantime I was sure - because I knew him well enough to tell by instinct - Viggo was on his way to the beach.

Of course, he could have reported the loss of his ticket to the police, he could have called someone he knew (perhaps even Sean), but that's what normal people would have done, and perhaps what Viggo would do tomorrow. While he realized his next opportunity to leave was the following day, considering all of today's drama he must have simply wanted to be alone and spend the night on the beach.

Viggo had told me once that he always carried his sleeping bag with him and it was typical for him to travel with a backpack instead of a suitcase. In New Zealand he often slept outdoors, especially when we were shooting on location, and during the filming of "Hidalgo" he refused to drive back to the hotel, preferring to camp in the desert.

I breathed a small sigh of relief. Part one of my plan had been accomplished. Viggo was still here on Malta.

Knowing Viggo, he'd stay here on the beach for a few days, diving for mussels and catching fish with his hands, until he found some sort of peace with himself.

Next order of business was to get Sean down here - soon.

I didn't want to give either man any time to think, to reflect. The unspoken and unresolved anger between them was there, smouldering like embers, just waiting for someone to stir the blaze.

Without a second thought as to what I was intent on setting into motion, I called Sean . There wasn't the smallest amount of regret in my mind, knowing that more than likely the two of them would engage in a serious shouting match...perhaps even come to blows.

And I would make sure of it, as I added a little more fuel to the fire.

I knew I had only one chance and before Sean could say hello or have the chance to hang up on me once he realized who it was I blurted out in a breathless rush, "Viggo's still here, Sean..."

" Orlando, you little bastard," he snarled and for a second I held the phone gingerly as if he could come through the receiver and strangle me. "What the fuck do you want? If this is another of your bloody little tricks..."

My heart was racing a mile a minute. "Listen to me, please. Go get your car and drive down to the beach...I'll tell you where it is. Viggo hasn't left Malta yet."

I could feel his uncertainty and his mistrust.

I could also sense his hope and I latched onto it like a rapid attack dog.

"God Sean, I'm sorry...what happened shouldn't have...but you've got a chance to talk it over with him...what do you have to lose?"

The sigh on the other end of the line was better than a trophy for I knew Sean couldn't resist what I was offering. "Tell me where he is, Orlando."

Gotcha.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Sean's car pulled up, I'd been waiting about half an hour at the point where Viggo had left the road and descended down the worn pathway to an isolated cove.

Sean jumped out and sprang towards me.

Before he could approach any closer, I showed him Viggo's wallet and some left-over pieces of the shredded airline ticket to prove my sincerity. "You see, Viggo couldn't leave, I made sure of that..."

"You took his wallet and tore his ticket?" Sean said slowly, absorbing the enormity of what I'd done. Against his better judgment he let a small smile of genuine admiration appear on his lips. His typical smirk flashed up for half a second and vanished again. "I'll say one thing for you, you little bastard, you're ruthless."

Oh Sean, you have no idea...

"So, where is he?"

I pointed in the direction of the cover, but held him back. "Wait a moment and I'll show you, but there's something I need to say to you and it's important..."

He frowned, obviously more interested in getting to his lover, but also realized that I'd actually done him a favour by insuring that Viggo stayed on Malta.

I'd become rather adept at faking sincerity and there it was, shining in my big brown eyes. "Sean...look, I know we both went too far, but it was...it was..." I swallowed nervously, as if seeking the right words that wouldn't upset him. "After the kiss we shared at the other night, you know...I couldn't help myself and I just didn't stop to think my actions through or how they would affect your relationship with Viggo..."

He softened a little, but the wariness hadn't left his face or his stance. The man was hardly naïve and of course he didn´t trust me any longer. But I didn´t have in mind to convince him of anything he would never believe. I only wanted to help to give birth to a thought that already had begun to come up in his mind...

Like a surgical strike, I cut just so, right where the heart of Sean's vulnerability and his anger lay.

"And honestly, I really didn't think Viggo would behave like this...like he's jealous..."

I heard the hitch in his breathing and knew he'd been thinking along the same lines.

"...You don't have anything to apologize for, Sean. Remember what we talked about before, about his wanting an open relationship?"

Sean's eyes glittered. Oh yes, he definitely remembered...

"He is jealous Sean, and you know it...but he won't admit it. You gave him a little taste of his own medicine and guess what, he found it bitter..."

I carefully watched him from beneath shadowed lids, judging the effect of my words.

I had worried the sore tooth of doubt in his head, now it was time to extract it.

Quietly I said, meeting his intense gaze head on, "Seems to me that Viggo operates on a double standard. Honestly Sean...you never really believed me when I told you nothing happened between us the night he sketched me naked, did you..."

I looked down, saw his fists clenching...all that rage close to the surface...

Of course he never believed me, not then and certainly not at this moment.

And then something Viggo had said in his anger popped into my head, and I couldn't resist.

Viggo's own words used against him...

"He told you that I came on to him...but he didn't tell the whole truth, Sean...he had his hands on me the whole time..."

What was it about me playing with fire?

The look I now saw in Sean's eyes was even darker than the one I'd seen earlier, and if I didn't get the enraged man down to that cove, he might decide that taking his anger out on me was an acceptable substitute.

It was the human equivalent of leading a Brahma bull by the horns...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Viggo had found himself a small cave, steps from the waterline.

He sat cross-legged on a blanket with the contents of his backpack spilled out in a little heap. Evening was slowly settling in, though it was still hot, and Viggo was dressed in nothing but a pair of cargo shorts. He was smoking, watching the waves roll in and out slowly, motionless except for the slow drags on his cigarette.

The picture was almost serene, placidly beautiful - nothing but earth, sky and water - but I knew it was not.

Not beneath the surface.

A dark energy surrounded Viggo, and even from where I stood with Sean beside me, I could feel it.

When he finally noticed us, he insolently rose to his feet, waiting, with a look so cold on his face, it was almost inhuman.

As soon as Sean stepped towards him, head high, his posture challenging, I knew my words had fallen on fertile ground.

This man would not drop to his knees and beg again.

He didn't, but went right in for the kill.

"Tell me something Viggo," he snarled. "Shouldn't you be happy I took the first step towards that precious 'open relationship' you're always talking about? Didn't you tell me," and Sean's voice oozed biting sarcasm . "' Frankly, I wouldn't freak out just because you might have a little something on the side`? And how would you classify your behavior if not as ´freaking out´ then ?'"

Viggo flinched. "Just shut up, Sean."

Sean laughed mirthlessly. "You're just a petty little hypocrite, Mortensen. Nothing more, nothing less."

"At least I'm not a whore," Viggo spat at him, louder this time. "What was it Sean, am I too much a man for you to handle and you needed some feminine-looking boy-child to remind you of your masculinity?"

Sean laughed wildly. "That's rich, Vig, considering that I've been able to take everything you've given and then some. You're nothing more than a jealous, self-righteous lying bastard who admits that he wanted what I got first...and by the way, his ass is a lot tighter than you could possibly imagine!"

Viggo saw the look of triumph on Sean's face and that was all it took. The thin leash he'd been holding onto finally snapped and he struck out, punching at Sean.

But Sean half dodged away, taunting him.

"...Want me to tell you how good it felt, Vig...how hot Orli's ass felt as I pounded him into the floor..."

Viggo kicked out at him and Sean lunged forward, his fist making crushing contact with Viggo's chin, but a split second later he doubled over from Viggo's knee ramming into his stomach.

But Sean, filled with unchecked rage, shook it off, his smile feral as he continued to goad Viggo.

"...Oh yes, you should have seen him...on his knees..." Sean panted, rising to his feet again. "...On his knees in front of Caravaggio's painting...his ass so pretty like a girl's...and he was begging for my cock...not yours..."

I'd seen and been a part of many stunt fights, but never had any of those carefully orchestrated movements come close to what unfolded in front of my eyes and I watched in horrid fascination as they literally tried to beat the shit out of each other, tearing at their clothes - Sean had also worn only shorts and a T-shirt - fighting until they both were bleeding, their bodies marked with blackening bruises with blots of red.

This was turning out even better than I'd planned...

Now, you could say that I'd manipulated Sean and Viggo into the fight, but you'd be partly wrong. This was a fight long overdue, and all that was left was for me to pick up the pieces.

Should Sean emerge victorious, it would provide the perfect hurt-comfort scenario - after all, someone would have to take care of Viggo - and I strongly doubted that Viggo would want Sean anywhere near him after that. I would help Viggo again - a friend in need - and make him listen to my version of the incident.

Should Viggo come out as the winner, I could always extend the hand of generosity towards Sean and drive him to the hospital while I made Viggo wait until I returned.

After all, neither of them wanted it bandied about the tabloids they'd had a violent lovers' spat.

The sounds of their combat shattered my thoughts.

Viggo struck out again, his fist aimed at Sean's jaw, but again Sean dodged the blow and struck back with a force that even I could feel.

They were pretty equally matched. I might have even bet on Viggo if this had been for fun. But if you ever saw that scene in the beginning of "Essex Boys", then you'd know Sean really had what it took when it came to fighting dirty. It was the brash young street-tough in him, from years ago.

I couldn't help feeling a strange sort of admiration, like watching a virtuoso guitar player; the quickness and precision of Sean's moves were almost artistic, like a lethal ballet. It was far from blindly whirling with fists and feet, he worked like an effective fighting machine, spinning around, lashing out, placing deadly precise blows with breath-taking accuracy and the aesthetic grace of a dancer.

And that lethal grace had begun to take its toll on Viggo, who couldn't seem to land a blow anywhere. It was as if Sean were a ghost, tormenting the older man unseen and unstoppable.

I had hoped that Sean would win the fight, the hurt-comfort-situation suited my purposes best, but I wanted to take care of Viggo, not to pick up his pieces...

Chapter Seven - Violent Passion

Viggo was being battered to a pulp and I had to do something because the word 'yield' didn't seem to be a part of Sean's mental vocabulary...

I launched forward, yelling "stop it" at the top of my lungs, my only thought being to protect the man I loved, but as I came between them Viggo whirled around, his fist crashing into my left eye.

I reeled back in shock and pain as my eye begun to swell, almost blinding me. I stumbled backwards until I made hard and painful contact with the rocks behind me.

"Stay out of this!"

In that moment I wouldn´t have minded if the two assholes had killed each other. I had buried them right there and then. A punch in the eye was all I got from Viggo for wanting to protect him...!

I shouldn't have worried nor interfered, having earned a black eye for my trouble. A cornered Viggo is a deadly Viggo and just when Sean thought he'd gained the upper hand, Viggo's leg snaked out, entangling Sean and sent the Brit spiraling to the ground.

In an instant, Viggo's knee was on his back, forcing Sean's face into the gritty sand. Sean struggled to wrest himself from Viggo's unyielding grip, then froze when Viggo growled hungrily:

"I'll punish you for that, Sean...I'll punish you hard..."

And in their twisted little lexicon of love, punishing Sean meant forgiveness...

That is, if Sean made that choice.

No one moved. No one even breathed.

I could see Sean's mind working as he slowly gave in, the defiance in his body language having given way to something else, a compulsion far stronger than the anger that had fueled his earlier violence.

No dammit, I wanted to scream at them...it can't end this way...

Not after everything I'd done, everything I'd suffered...Sean couldn't just surrender so easily.

I hadn't realized that I'd screamed that last part aloud when Viggo's burning sapphire gaze fell upon me, filled with such unrelenting hatred, and I felt myself rooted to the spot, afraid to move.

I didn't know if I would live through the pain that tore through me like a raging wildfire, physically from my swollen eye, and from the pain in my soul as I slowly realized that I'd lost everything...

Viggo knew what I'd done...

And what was to come next was as much my punishment as it would be Sean's.

Viggo held Sean's head to the ground as he ripped Sean's already tattered shorts from his body. He then picked up the leather belt that had lain benignly on the sand.

It was as if the entire world went silent, holding its breath in frightened anticipation.

The first blow sounded like an explosion in the almost near silence.

I saw Sean's body jerk forward as if trying to escape, though I knew in his mind this was what he wanted, and at once he bent down again and remained in his submissive position.

The next series of blows rained down so hard and fast on Sean's bare flesh that I was afraid Viggo had utterly lost control and had crossed the fine line between passion and cruelty.

With each slap of leather against ass or back, I tried to curl into myself, into the solid rock...

Sean's cries of pain began slowly morphing into moans of desire as Viggo whipped him steadily, pausing long enough to look into my eyes.

"You want to be in his place, don't you Orlando..." Viggo whispered pitilessly towards me.

Not Orli...Orlando. Cold, clipped, precise syllables full of icy scorn. Never had I hated my name more than in that moment.

The words were cruel, far crueler than that belt he was using on Sean.

Satisfaction glowered in Viggo's eyes, knowing just how much he'd wounded me, but far from done...

Viggo was in a rage and there would be no stopping him until it burned itself out.

Within Sean's eager body.

He dropped the belt and knelt down behind Sean's upturned ass, caressing it lightly as a shared groan escaped from Sean's lips...and from my own.

"I own you Sean Mark Bean," the older man growled savagely, loud enough for me to hear. "I own you, and by the time I'm done you'll know it..."

"Please," Sean whispered, gasping from the gentleness of Viggo's touch on the blistering red of his heated skin. "Please, Vig...not that way..."

Viggo held still for a moment.

"I'll use lube," he answered, knowing what Sean had meant. "But I won't make it hurt any less. This will be a lesson you'll never forget."

I'd never forget it either.

"Your ass is so tense and tight Sean," Viggo sighed blissfully as his hand slid over Sean's buttocks covetously, "And I plan on fully enjoying that."

He slicked himself up with the small bottle of lube, working it with tantalizing strokes over that hard cock that I would have sold my soul to have do to me what it was about to do to Sean.

My whole body stiffened as he lined up, positioning himself near Sean's entrance, then slowly forced his way inside as Sean moaned and shuddered underneath him.

Sean winced.

Viggo sighed with raw, pure pleasure.

I sank to my knees, no longer able to stand.

My eyes widened with shock as I saw him pick up the belt again.

The belt was poised in mid-air. I flinched as he brought it down, a hard slap against Sean's already tender backside. The jolt that coursed through Sean's body must have provided an intense stimulation for Viggo because he moaned deeply while Sean whimpered with pleasure and pain beneath him.

"Again," he whispered, and hit Sean full-force. I didn't want to see this, didn't want to feel trapped helplessly while with each thrust of his hips and the steady rise and fall of leather made it more than clear that Viggo didn't want me at all.

The sexual excitement of Sean's willing body and lusty groans started to overpower the rage, and Viggo's expression changed, his movements losing their brutal edge. He threw away the belt, grabbing Sean's ass with both hands.

Then he turned those flame-bright eyes to me beneath strands of dark hair, hanging all over his face - bruised and battered but still able to take my breath away.

"You like to watch, Orlando...Well - watch!"

It didn't matter that Sean had been beaten in front of my eyes; I still felt the painful stirrings of jealousy as Viggo thrust inside him.

"I don't want you," Viggo growled at me, never slowing down his thrusts. "I could never love a manipulative little bastard like you...I love Sean...and I'm fucking him as I would never fuck you..."

My cock was hot and hard, even though the hatred and contempt on Viggo's face as he looked at me brought tears to my eyes.

"...That's right, you little slut, go ahead and cry for what you'll never have...and even if I walked away from Sean...it would be a cold day in hell before I ever came crawling to you..."

His words, as they had been before, were like daggers to my heart, but neither he nor Sean were done with their torture. From beneath his position on his knees, I saw Sean's green eyes glitter with something I knew was malicious triumph. Obviously Sean was not a gracious victor - he wanted to see me as shattered and broken as he'd been earlier. He'd fucked me in the church the same way, but it had meant nothing - not like this...

This was punishment and penance and love...

I had the first, but would never experience the other two with Viggo Peter Mortensen.

Never.

It was then, at that juncture of raw passion and fierce brutality - that I finally knew I would never have him.

I cried silently, my hurt and swollen eye stinging from the salty tears, while Viggo now fucked Sean with the same strength and intensity, but far less brutally.

I had ceased to exist for them.

But I heard them murmuring to each other, fervent whispers of apology and forgiveness and love.

"God, Sean..." Viggo whispered against the sweat-soaked back beneath him as their movements became more fluid, more tender. "You were right...I was jealous. I´m sorry, baby...,"I saw Viggo bestow small kisses up and down Sean's spine as he continued seeking absolution within Sean's wounded but still perfect body.

Sean gave a little snort, half acceptance of the apology, half announcement that Viggo would pay for that, too, but later...

"...I'm such a fool, Sean...taking you for granted...I just never thought I could feel like that...so stupid...forgive me..."

And now Sean's answer came in the form of a long, shuddering sigh as he groaned, "...I forgive you, love...just don't stop fucking me...feels so good having you inside me...wanting me..."

"...I'll always want you, baby...I'll never stop showing you..."

And Viggo arched, flinging his head back, a shower of dark hair and sweat raining down his back and I would never forget the expression of wild joy on his face as he spent himself completely inside Sean's ass, deep inside the body he claimed as his possession.

So lost in my own misery, I didn't notice Viggo sliding slowly out of Sean's ass and striding over to where I was still on my knees.

Viggo bent down, grasping me by the hair and hissed savagely in my ear, "What ever made you think you could be even half the man Sean is?" He wrenched my chin in his hands, forced me to stare into the dark tempest of his eyes. "What ever made you think you'd be good enough?"

Rising to that full, imposing height that seemed almost god-like from my position, he took his cock in his hand, and with malicious indifference he aimed and pissed on me as if I was a random boulder or bush he had chosen.

I don't know what held me in place, but I didn't move, while the hot fluid coursed down my face and body as he emptied himself on me.

A little smile of satisfaction flickered over his face as he bent down once again to whisper more merciless words in my ear. "That, Orlando, is all you deserve."

Viggo stood up, turned his back on me returned to Sean.

This final humiliation still wasn't enough for either of them. They were going to leave me a broken shell.

I saw him tenderly lift Sean into his arms, embracing the other man defiantly, before sliding to the ground to his knees in supplication. He held onto the straining length, stroking it firmly as Sean's hips rocked against his hands.

Before he took Sean's cock into his mouth, his dark eyes mocked me.

"You're not even man enough to be my whore," he whispered cruelly, then proceeded to give to Sean all the pleasure he could with lips and tongue.

Sean fucked Viggo's mouth steadily as the man before him lost himself in sensation.

It was over...I had lost everything.

In spite of everything, their love was built on a solid foundation that could withstand even my selfish manipulations. Oh yes, I may have caused some trouble in their little paradise, but nothing could change the way Sean and Viggo truly felt about each other.

Nothing.

Not even their own foolishness, weakness, and stubbornness.

I ran, not caring about how my clothes, my face and hair were soiled. I could always wash it away, but Viggo's look of searing contempt and his last words would stay with me forever.

I could still hear them as I tried to escape their shouts of violent climax...

Chapter Eight - Orlando's Epiphany

So there you have it, dear reader.

I'm certain that many of you are more than pleased with how things turned out for me - that I deserved it - and perhaps you are right.

The irony wasn't lost on me that in the middle of filming a Greek tragedy about the destruction that ensued when one lusts for someone who belongs to another, I was actually living my own.

Unlike Paris, I don't get to slay the hero.

In my own defence, however, I never lied as far as what my desires had been. I had loved Viggo Mortensen - or at least the image of him I'd built up in my mind.

Was it so wrong to love heedlessly? How many of you can honestly say you haven't felt the same?

Or would have done the same if in similar circumstances?

Would I have done anything different? Perhaps.

What hurts the most is that I don't know if I'll ever find a love like theirs, and sometimes in my darker moments I wonder if I deserve it.

But love, as it's said, makes fools of us all.

To my credit, I had never deluded myself into thinking I was a saint or something.

Unlike Viggo, I was honest enough to know that I could be swayed by my baser instincts.

I would have never taken Sean's love for granted.

Then again, perhaps I needed this lesson - to remind me that some things in life cannot be had for the taking.

Humility is a bitter pill to swallow.

Worse, I have come to realize that instead of gaining a lover, I've lost two of the best friends anyone could have had.

Maybe one day I'll muster up the courage to face them - to apologize for what I've done.

Until then, I've moved out of the apartment I shared with Kate. I couldn't live under the same roof any longer, knowing that I didn't love her. Thankfully, she merely took it in stride, sparing me any histrionics and wished me well.

Well is a relative term considering what I'd done to myself.

Solitude has been good for me.

I'm starting to reflect more on my career now and plan on making more active choices as to the types of roles I want to take. I can't be cast as the 'pretty boy' forever.

My past behaviour certainly could lend itself to one hell of a film.

Wonder who they'd get to play me...

There's just one more little incident left in this sordid tale that might interest you...at least I find some interest in it...

We still had some filming on Malta to do, not much just pickups and some last-minute script changes. I was glad of the work, for it left me with no chance to brood or to sink into depression.

Because my thoughts of late had been dark, I was in no hurry to leave the set. All I'd been doing since that disastrous confrontation on the beach was going back to my hotel room, sometimes drinking myself into a stupor in the hopes that the alcohol would kill any lingering memories of that day, and falling asleep. I no longer sought the company of the two young men - Andreas and Alexion - who'd been my sexual companions when I thought my plans would bear fruit.

That day, Eric approached me and without further ado asked me, friendly and quietly, if I was ok.

I nodded slowly, and assured him as best I could, that I was.

I could tell he didn't believe me, but seemed to accept my answer. "Rumour has it that you've had some problems with Viggo and Sean, but you know how people like to make dramas out of even the smallest incidents. If you ever want to talk though..."

Eric was not the guy to beat about the bush, but his genuine honesty was never intrusive.

I looked up at him, the light of the evening sun in his face, the wind playing with his short dark hair.

I murmured something about turbulent times being over now, but had left me a worn out and tired.

"So - everything nice n' easy now," he asked, smiling at me.

I wasn't sure if I could exactly call it that.

"Uhhh...sort of...in a way, I guess..." My reply was ambiguous at best.

Eric only nodded with a twinkle in his eyes that promised he'd be patient and that his offer of a sympathetic ear was still on the table.

"Fancy a drink later," he asked, his warm brown eyes resting com-passionately on me. "No confessions needed, just a friendly round of whatever they have on tap?"

I gave the biggest sigh of relief in my life. I had the feeling a demon escaped my lips with the long, deep breath I exhaled.

"Yes," I smiled up at him.

Yes. Definitely yes.

*****

THE END

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