Better Than Any High 1

Better Than Any High

Parts 1 - 5

Posted: June 2005
Title: Better than any High
Author: Darknightjess, Linden Jay
Type: RPS
Characters: Overall, Marton Csokas/ Orlando Bloom (wee bit of Viggo/Orlando alluded to)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Oh yeah- this is all made up. No truth at all.
Timeline: Flips between the filming of ' Kingdom of Heaven', and the filming of 'Lord of the Rings'
Beta: Tarnished_Raven
Summary: Orlando runs into Marton during filming of ' Kingdom of Heaven'
Author's Notes: Well, we buggered all hell out of the timelines for filming. We bent it to fit our purposes, and if we actually managed to get anything in the correct timeline, it was luck and fortune, not on purpose.

*****

Chapter 1

Orlando walked past the lighting rig, stopping to take a drink out of his water bottle. He heard one of the technicians standing on the other side of the machinery talking. "That is one good looking man. I mean to tell you, if I were to ever do a man - he'd be the one I'd do."

Orlando grinned and tipped the bottle up and as he listened further another voice spoke up. "D'you see him in the Rings movie? That blonde hair, damn my wife don't look that good a blonde." Orlando bounced on his toes and then stopped suddenly as the voice continued. "Yeah, that Csokas is one hot bitch." Boisterous laughter followed.

Marton . Orlando blinked; he'd forgotten that Marton was due to arrive on set this week. I'll be damned. He thought.

Later that afternoon Orlando turned a corner, chain mail clinking and spotted Marton talking to Ridley. He started to walk off when the dark eyes turned toward him. Orlando flashed a smile and waved.

Orlando . Marton's heart stopped for a moment before he gave himself a mental shake, giving Orlando a nod and a polite smile and turning back to his conversation with Ridley. What, did you think this was going to be easy, seeing him again? Just do your job, be professional, and what you can't shake off, act out. Marton stifled a snort. That easy, eh? Christ.

What the fuck was that? Ignoring me? Orlando frowned. I don't fucking think so. He walked to where the two men stood and smiled as Ridley looked over at him.

" Orlando! Look who got here. You and Marton know each other, I'm sure." Ridley smiled, nodding his head and then glanced at his watch. "Oh well, that's all for me at the moment. Marton, if you'll excuse me I've got to get to a continuity meeting. Orlando, you can take care of Marton, yes?"
Orlando grinned. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I can."

I don't fucking think so! Marton had to physically stop himself from saying the words, biting down hard on the inside of his lip and smiling at Ridley. You have to work together, so stop being a whiny cunt and suck it up. "Talk to you later Ridley," he said, smiling at the other man and virtually ignoring Orlando.

Orlando watched as Ridley scooted off, smiling and waving to everyone as he went. He turned back to Marton. "Hey Marts. It's been a while. How are you?" He smiled, cocking his head.

Marts. Christ. Marton shuddered inwardly. "I suppose it has. Congratulations on the part, by the way. Well done." Certainly not going to say you've earned it. What do you know of struggling your way up through small time bit parts... taking goddamned 'Kangaroo Jack' type roles just to stay in the business... Marton thought, keeping a polite smile on his face.

"Thanks." Orlando dipped his head, then looked up through his lashes, lowering his voice. "I'm glad you're here - it's been - um a bit of a bore."

Marton raised his eyebrow and looked at Orlando. "Really?" he said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "You've been working with Liam Neeson- I can't imagine that possibly being boring."

"Well Liam stays busy, you know? He's just, well, he's not much fun." Orlando brightened, bouncing a bit. "So do you want to get some dinner?"

"No thanks- I already ate," Marton said coolly, looking around for a PA. He needed a ride back to the hotel. Now.

Orlando looked around when Marton did, frowning slightly. "Uh drink then?" He reached and laid a hand on Marton's arm. "C'mon Marts, a drink or two?"

Marton finally made eye contact with a PA. "Can you find someone to drive me back to the hotel please?" "Sure thing, Mr. Csokas. Five minutes." Marton nodded and turned back to Orlando. "No thank you. I'm tired, I just want to get back to the hotel so I can be ready to work in the morning."

Orlando squeezed the strong arm under his hand. "Later then, yeah? It's going to be a long shoot, plenty of time."

Marton looked at the hand on his arm and then slowly looked up at Orlando. "What was cute and charming at twenty-two really isn't anymore at twenty-seven, Orlando. I'm not interested," he said, lifting Orlando's hand off his arm and walking after the production assistant without another word.

Orlando blinked. What the fuck? He started to go after him and then stopped, smiling. He was used to getting his way, and this wasn't going to be any exception. Smiling, he turned and wandered off.

*****

Chapter 2

New Zealand - Five years ago

"...but don't you think so?" Orlando trailed off mouth open, he reached and tugged at Viggo's sleeve. "Oh fuck me, who's that?" He said, nodding his head toward where a crew was blocking out a shot.

" Orlando, we're in the middle of Lothlorien, I'm not going to fuck you," Viggo sighed, only hearing the first part of his sentence before looking up and seeing where Orlando was nodding. "Ah- that's Celeborn."

"Didn't stop you at Rivendell." Orlando mumbled, chewing at his lip. "Bloody hell, look at those eyes. Celeborn? No, who is he?" He looked back at Viggo and fluttered his lashes. 'Vigs," He whined out. "Who?"

" Orlando. No whining rule," Viggo reminded him, going over his lines and tuning out Orlando's tone.

"Viggo." Orlando said, voice sharp, then grinned. "C'mon mate. You know who he is, fuck, you know everybody, 'specially the elves. Look at him." He gestured to where the tall man stood. "Name? You know you want to tell me. You know you do."

"I know I want you to shut up," Viggo muttered. "Marton Csokas. He's playing Celeborn, Galadriel's husband," he said, finally giving in.

Orlando smiled. "Tha's a good ranger. Now how easy was that? And see, I'm leaving. I'll let you get back to communing with your script, all you ever had to do, was give me what I want." He bounced and then walked toward the men across the set.

Viggo rolled his eyes as he watched Orlando cross the set. "Good luck, Marton. You're going to need it."

Orlando stood watching Marton, chewing on his thumb. When the group broke apart he walked up and smiled at the tall, dark eyed man.

"You wish, Parker," Marton snorted as Craig walked away, turning away and grinning, shaking his head, looking up just as Orlando came into his line of sight. Holy fuck. Who the hell is that?

Straightening his back and lifting his chin, Orlando raised an eyebrow at the other man. "Hello." He said and dipped his head slightly.

"Hello," Marton managed, staring more openly then he'd like. "Marton. Marton Csokas," he said, extending his hand towards the man.

Orlando took the wide hand in his and shook it, swiping his thumb over it before releasing. "I'm Orlando Bloom, Legolas. It's nice to meet you."

"Marton Csokas," Marton repeated, a little unnerved by Orlando's thumb stroking over his hand. "I said that already, didn't I?" Marton shook his head. "It's good to meet you too, Orlando. You make one hell of an elf. I'm still halfway wondering what Pete was thinking, casting me," he grinned, looking around at all the incredibly tall, slender people walking around, then taking another look at Orlando.

"And I was wondering why he didn't cast you first." Orlando said, letting Legolas slip a bit as his cheeks colored and he broke out in a grin. "You'll have to come out with us some night and meet the rest of the gang, when we don't have our clothes - uh - costumes on." Orlando stopped wide-eyed and then burst into laughter. "Oh fuck man, sorry. That was - yeah, sorry."

Marton's eyes opened wide, matching Orlando's, a faint blush staining his cheeks, much to his chagrin. Get a hold of yourself Csokas- Christ! You don't even know this guy and he's turning you into a bloody schoolgirl. "Well, I know the Zid guys, of course," he said, trying to recover. "And a few people from the Fellowship- I've rehearsed some with Viggo. But yeah, I'd love to come out sometime... do something more casual."

"Dancing." Orlando said and clapped his hands together. "We're going tomorrow night. I'll let you know where we decide. It'll be fantastic." Orlando stopped and looked off to where someone was calling for Legolas. Turning back to Marton he bowed his head and in a soft voice said, "Celeborn. Until tomorrow." He turned and made his way across the set.

A chill went up his spine at the tone in Orlando's voice. "Tomorrow," Marton murmured, nodding at him and watching him walk away.

Later that afternoon as he was leaving the trailer, Orlando popped his neck, turning it from side to side and punched at Dominic as he shoved at him laughing. "Wanker!" He called and then he spotted Viggo. Loping up to him he fell in step as the older man walked toward the car park. "What're ya doing Vigs?"

"Why?" Viggo asked, instantly suspicious.

"I'm bored and the guys are tired and not going anywhere and I was going to come home with you. I'll bring beer." He said with a smile and rubbed at his nose.

"Why Orlando, you sweep me off my feet," Viggo deadpanned. "I would have thought you'd be knocking boots with the king by now... or wait- was that only in your head that particular event happened?"

"Well, you're going to be king someday." Orlando waggled his eyebrows at Viggo. "Marton's going to come out dancing with us tomorrow, but I'm bored tonight. C'mon Viggo, You know you want to. You know you do." He grinned and bumped his shoulder against Viggo.

"Quit that. No nagging rule," Viggo said, unlocking the passenger door and holding it open for Orlando before crossing over to the driver's side.

Orlando squirmed in the seat happily, waiting for Viggo to start the engine before playing with the dials on the radio and turning the music up loud.

" Orlando! Elijah-recommended music rule!" Viggo bellowed.

"Too fuckin' many rules." Orlando grumbled as they headed toward Viggo's house.

Viggo glanced to the side, reaching out and tugging at Orlando's lip. "No pouting for attention rule," he smirked.

*****

Chapter 3

New Zealand - Five years ago

Marton looked up at the name over the club, fairly certain that he'd gotten it right, although it had taken both he and the production assistant five minutes of turning the paper around and squinting at it to figure out what Orlando had written in the first place. He handed the cover charge to the bouncer and walked inside, squinting as he looked around the room, trying to see if there was anyone he recognized.

Orlando shimmied and as he turned his eye caught Marton standing at the edge of the dance floor. He lifted his arms and moved to where the other man could see him. Orlando swayed slowly, letting the music move through him as the song thrummed to an end. He leaned in, arms still in the air and spoke into Marton's ear. "I'll get you a drink, yeah? You wait here." He let his jaw brush against the shell of Marton's ear as he pulled his head back.

Marton nodded and watched him walking away, realizing that he hadn't said a word since he'd walked into the club and seen Orlando. He gave his head a shake and sighed. "What the hell am I doing?" he muttered, unable to shake the grin crossing his face.

"Hadn't been here a week and already taking to yourself, bad sign that."

"Didn't your mother teach you that it's rude to eavesdrop, Parker?" Marton said, not bothering to turn around, knowing the voice behind him from the first word spoken.

"Probably about the same time yours was failing to teach you to not stare, or drool." Craig said with a laughed, stepping next to his friend. "Nice to look at, isn't he?"

"Hey- I was not drooling!" Marton insisted, giving Craig a sharp elbow in the side, ignoring the bit about staring. "He knows how to move," Marton murmured, agreeing with Craig.

"Oomph." Craig huffed as Marton poked him. "Bastard." He said with a laugh, rubbing his side. "He sure does, from what I hear, just remember one thing about our Prince of Mirkwood; he's like a halogen light bulb - bright, pretty, warm and useful but if you touch it - it'll blow up in your face." He was quiet for a second and then said, "Come on to the table and sit down."

"I'll find you in a minute- he's grabbing drinks, and I don't want to lose him in the crowd," Marton said, puzzling over what Craig had just told him. He's a light bulb? "And by the way- you've only gotten stranger as you've gotten older, Parker. Just so you know."

"Un huh, well, we're back in the corner if you want to come over." Craig said and clapped Marton on the shoulder, walking off.

Orlando walked up and handed Marton his beer, eyeing him appraisingly. He leaned in and spoke, "I like that color on you, the green." He smiled and took a sip of beer, dragging the bottle hard across his bottom lip as he tipped it down.

Oh CHRIST- does this kid have any clue how sexy he is? Marton thought, his eyes focused in on Orlando's lips, watching him swallowing the beer, trying and failing miserably to keep his mind from going places... "Thank you- your shirt is- well- it's interesting," Marton settled. "Looks good on you."

Orlando smiled and peeled one side of his open shirt back, revealing a lean, tan, sweaty chest. "Thanks, few more dances and it'll be too hot for it. I don't wear any of the ones I really like when we come out dancing, half the time I lose the damn thing." He shrugged and the shirt slipped down off of one shoulder. "So d'you dance?"

Marton grinned, taking a good look at Orlando and tipping his beer back, setting the bottle off to the side and rolled his sleeves up a little higher on his forearms. "I dance."

Orlando took Marton by the arms, eyes hooded by dark lashes, he licked his lips and walked backwards onto the dance floor. He squeezed the strong warm arms under his hand appreciatively, tugging. "Prove it."

A few dances later, Orlando's shirt was showing definite signs of being near to falling off completely, and Marton's was open by a few more buttons... not that he was entirely sure how they'd become unbuttoned, because he certainly hadn't done it. He leaned closer to Orlando's ear, his voice cheeky. "You're looking tired, mate- get you a bottle of water?"

"Hot, not tired." Orlando said, turning his head, lips brushing against Marton's jaw. "There is a difference." He pulled back and grinned. "Get us some water, I'll find us a table."

Marton grinned, shaking his head as he walked over to the bar, ordering the water and a beer for each of them, then scanning the room for Orlando, grinning when he noticed him standing with a few other people, heading over and handing him the drinks.

Orlando took his drinks, gulping down half of his water at one time. He smiled at Marton, cocking his hip so that he leaned against him slightly. Flapping his hand toward the table of rambunctious actors. "Marton, the hobbits under the influence. It's not a pretty site." He said with a grin and then ducked the various items that were tossed at him. "C'mon, let's find someplace quieter and less hobbity!" He grabbed Marton's belt loop and pulled him toward the back of the
club, stopping near a walled alcove that held the phones. "Better, quieter, yeah?" He said, sitting his beer on top of the phone and leaning against the wall.

Laughing as Orlando pulled him along, and not entirely sure why he was letting him get away with doing it, Marton rested against the wall, turning to look at Orlando. "It's certainly quieter... 'though the wall is still vibrating from the bass," he pointed out, placing his palm against the wall and grinning.

Orlando laid his hand over Marton's, flattening it to the wall. "Close your eyes and feel it. That's what I fucking love about dancing, about just coming out here. It's like you can feel it." He placed his other hand flat, fingers spread, on Marton's chest between the open sides of his shirt. He could feel the sweat damp skin and smiled. "Here, you can feel it inside, it's like your blood starts to pound with it - it's better than any fucking high." He moved his hands and leaned back, hitching a happy sigh and taking a drink of his beer.

Marton shivered a little despite the heat of the club, certain if he closed his eyes he would still feel Orlando's fingers pressed against his chest. "You're not really like anyone I've ever met, Orlando," he said, looking at him as though he was trying to figure him out.

Orlando rolled sideways against the wall, chest pressed into Marton's arm. "I'm not like anyone anywhere, Marts." He studied the man a second, leaning a bit closer. "D'ya want me to move?" He asked in a low voice, barely speaking above the noise from the dance floor down the hall.

"No," Marton said automatically, his senses shredding his brain. How the hell was this man- hell, this kid- shredding him like this? He was turning into a hormone drenched seventeen years old again, all over a skinny dark haired guy with a stupid haircut and a voice like sin. "Why did you ask me to come out?" he murmured, the question out before he could stop it, leaning closer to hear his answer.

"I wanted to and I always do what I wanna do." Orlando said, eyelids sliding closed for a beat as he inhaled the warm musk scent of Marton. He made an almost humming noise and smiled. "Why'd you come then?"

"Because you asked me," Marton smiled, his voice still low, fighting a losing argument with his cock as Orlando came closer and...did he just smell me? "Seemed the polite thing to do."

"Mmm polite? Oh well, if that's the only reason." He shrugged his shoulder languidly, letting the movement rub his chest against Marton's arm. "So, this polite thing? What else could I get you to do? You know, so that ya wouldn't hurt my feelings, hmm?"

Marton felt his cock hardening more, pressing uncomfortably against the denim, sweat beading across his forehead again. He's not really... is he? Marton's thoughts swam, unable to completely reconcile whether Orlando was hitting on him or not, undeniably flattered, but not entirely sure he wasn't just letting himself see what he wished to see. "You want me to go get you another beer? Fetch and carry?" Marton teased, his voice more strained than he'd like.

"Beer'd be good." Orlando shifted until his bare chest, shirt hanging open and almost off his shoulders, was pressed to Marton's. "D'ya have beer at your place?" He dropped his chin slightly, looking up at Marton, cheeks coloring. "I'm sorry, it's just - well - I'm not real sure - you know that you're- uh - but-" Orlando blinked, teeth tugging at his bottom lip. "M'sorry, I can go." He said in a quiet voice.

"Do I have..." Marton's eyes opened wide, staring right into Orlando's eyes, "at my place? You want to come to my place?" he repeated, a bit shell shocked.

Orlando smiled and nodded, leaning his head down until his nose touched the base of Marton's throat. "Yeah, I do."

Marton shuddered, not having intended that so much as an actual question, but as a clarification- Christ- I am fucking nuts- Marton, stop questioning everything and go with it already! "You drive? Need to follow me home?" he said finally, fighting not to press right up against him.

Orlando shook his head, causing his lips to drag across Marton's skin. When he spoke the breathe from his words ghosted out. "No, rode with a hobbit." He lowered his voice even more and rose on his toes a fraction, just enough to drag skin against skin. "Mmm, get the car? I gotta settle my tab with the guys and I'll meet ya out front, 'kay?"

"Meet you out front," Marton repeated, wondering just when he'd turned into a fucking parrot, at the same time, not really caring. He looked down and grinned, quickly doing up the buttons that had come undone on his shirt and reluctantly moved away from Orlando, heading through the bar for the door.

Orlando grinned and spun, moving fast through the crowd. When he got to the table he scratched out some money from his front pocket, grunting when his knuckle brushed his erection. "I'm outta here mates. How much I owe?" He asked the table full of men in general.

"You're out of here, huh? I shouldn't be expecting company later tonight then?" Viggo deadpanned, rolling his eyes at Orlando. "Nice early night at home- rest up for shooting tomorrow?"

Orlando squinted at Viggo and sniffed. "Oh, I should be good and relaxed, so no, I won't be needing you. Thanks anyway though." He smirked and blew Viggo a kiss, tossing a few bills on the table.

"I suppose there's no point in telling you to be careful, is there?" Viggo said, standing up and moving closer to Orlando. "Or maybe I should be warning him and not you."

"Oh fuck off Vigs." Orlando said, his voice nowhere near as harsh as his words. He smiled and ran a finger across Viggo's lip. "Don't worry about me, and he's a big boy - or at least I'm hoping he is." Orlando laughed and moved toward the door.

"Not worried about you," Viggo murmured, sitting down again and looking around the table. "Okay- that's Billy, Astin and Parker- pay up." Viggo frowned. "Where'd Craig go?"

"Marton." Craig called as he saw the man start out the side door. "Hey, where you headed off to so soon?"

Marton paused, looking back at Craig and cursing himself for the blush that he knew was coloring his cheeks. "Going home," he mumbled, averting his eyes.

Craig nodded, tipping up on his toes and rocking a second before speaking. "Alone?"

Raising his head to look at Craig, Marton shot him a look. One Craig knew well. The 'it's absolutely none of your fucking business' look.

Craig put his hands in the air, palms out. "Fine, fine. One thing because we're friends. Just remember - young doesn't always equal innocent, m'kay?"

"Goodnight, Marton- see you tomorrow on set." Marton said, his voice firm, but friendly, leaning in and giving Craig a quick hug.

Craig clapped Marton on the back and nodded, and took his cue from Marton. "Yeah okay, goodnight, Marton- see you tomorrow on set. Take care." He said and walked back to the table.

When he saw Marton come out the side door Orlando strode over and fell in step beside him. His hands were stuffed in his front pockets and he grinned at the older man, shyly.

"All settled up then?" Marton murmured, letting himself drift closer to Orlando as they walked, not quite touching him.

"Yeah, I'm yours til morning." He said and bumped his hip against Marton. "Z'at okay?"

"I think I'll manage," Marton grinned, pausing and unlocking the car door for Orlando, then moving over to the other side and starting the engine.

As Marton pulled out of the parking lot, Orlando lifted his hand to fiddle with the radio. Stopping himself and the laugh that the action almost caused, he scooted sideways and dragged his fingers down the outside seam of Marton's jeans, scraping his nail on it. He leaned over and put his mouth on the ridge of muscle at Marton's shoulder, blowing warm air through the fabric. He sat back up, leaving his hand on the strong thigh.
Marton stepped a little too hard on the gas, not expecting Orlando's hand to be, well, there! Getting himself and the car under control again, he shifted, his pants suddenly pressing uncomfortably again. "You trying to kill me then? Just remember, I go down, we both go down," he advised.

Without turning his head, Orlando shifted his hand to cup the bulge in Marton's lap and said, "pull over Marts, and then I'll be the only one going down, yeah?" He squeezed lightly.

"I didn't really just say that, did I?" Marton gasped at the touch, only just managing to keep his eyes on the road. "Oh Christ, I did," he breathed, licking his lips.

With his free hand, Orlando pointed to a side street. "There, on the right, pull over. Down a little ways there's a parking lot."

"How do you know that?" Marton groaned, trying like hell not to not to steer the car into a lamp pole. "You make a habit of finding isolated places you can hit in the middle of the night?"

Orlando pulled his hand back and tucked it under his leg, turning his head he blinked at Marton. "No - I - is that what you think?" He asked with a frown. "It's the back parking lot for a curry place Dom and I come to." He finished in a quiet voice and turned to look out of the window.

Marton winced, pulling into the parking lot and turning the car off, turning to look at Orlando. "I'm sorry, Orlando. I- Christ, I didn't mean it like that. I don't think anything of the sort- I don't even know you," he pointed out, reaching his hand out and brushing Orlando's cheek. "I am sorry," he repeated, shifting his hand away and reaching for the ignition. "Tell me where you live- I can take you home," he murmured.

Orlando quickly turned and grabbed Marton's hand, pulling it toward him and mouthing the knuckle. "No, wait. I want this. I know you didn't mean it like that. Please." He moved closer to Marton and tilted his head, kissing warmth over the man's lips. He licked across them, pulling back with a sigh. "You taste great." He put his hand over the fly of Marton's jeans and rubbed.

Marton closed his eyes, still seeing the look on Orlando's face, his reaction to Marton's words. "You don't have to- oh god..." he groaned, his head leaning back against the headrest, his hips tilting up, pressing up into Orlando's hand.

"I want to." Orlando said. "But you're a big man, and there's not a lot of room. Hmmm. Wait, I've got an idea. Stay there." He said, raising an eyebrow and grinning as he opened the car and climbed out. Walking around to the driver's door he opened it and held his hand out to Marton.

Cocking his eyebrow at Orlando, Marton took his hand, grabbing the keys and stuffing them into his pocket as he climbed out of the car.

Without a word Orlando lead Marton into the alley. He stopped and turned to face Marton, he placed his hands flat on the broad chest and pushed until Marton was leaning against the brick wall. Dragging his fingers down to hook in the jeans waistband, Orlando gracefully folded to his knees. Gaze never leaving Marton's, he moved his hands to the button, popping it and smiling. He slowly tugged the zipper down, the snick of the metal loud in the silence of the alley.

Marton stared down at Orlando, biting off a moan of mixed pleasure and relief as Orlando unzipped his jeans, relieving the pressure on his cock. Craig might have been right- innocent he's not, Marton thought, he's pure sin in the body of a marble statue.

Orlando pulled at the jeans until they were down the muscular thighs. He smiled happily at the erection straining the boxers. With sure movements, he curled his fingers into the elastic and pulled it out and over Marton's cock, smile widening as the hard length arced upward in the night air. "Oh fuck yeah." He said softly and licked the tip of his tongue over the slit.

Moaning again, his head thudded against the brick, cock jerking in response to Orlando's tongue. "Christ, Orlando- please?" he hissed, running his hand over Orlando's head, his only regret that there wasn't enough hair there to tangle his fingers in.

Chuckling once, Orlando opened his lips and sunk his mouth onto the smooth flesh. He swallowed, taking Marton deep. He ran one hand underneath the man's tight balls and back, until he could scratch a blunt fingertip over his puckered entrance.

Marton clenched his teeth hard, trying to stay quiet, acutely aware that despite the time of night they were out in public... in an alley... with possibly the most beautiful man he'd ever seen kneeling- Christ- kneeling on the ground in front of him, sucking him off. Letting out a muffled scream as Orlando's finger traced over his opening, he thrust forward, unable to stop his hips from jerking, then forced himself still, not wanting to hurt Orlando.

Orlando let his throat relax, and used his tongue against the sensitive underside of the length in his mouth as he moved his head. His lips stretched wide as he sunk to the wide base, the dark musky curls tickling his nose. Using just the tip of his finger he entered Marton gently and hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard.

Orlando's tongue tracing against his cock he could have handled. The fact that he appeared to have virtually no gag reflex, that had him well on the way to unspooling, but he was still mostly in control, even with the added suction. But the slim finger easing into his body at the same time? It was too much. Marton snapped, letting out a strangled gasp and pumping his hips, fucking Orlando's mouth as he came hard.

Orlando swallowed, letting Marton ride out the orgasm. When the man stilled and he felt him relax back onto the wall, Orlando pulled his hand back and slipped the still mostly hard cock from his mouth, licking it softly. He gently tucked him back in, pulled the shorts up and with slow movements, pulled the jeans up and deftly zipped them. He stood and rubbed his knuckles against Marton's jaw. "Take me to your place, yeah?"

"Hmmm?" Marton murmured, sated and content, leaning into Orlando's touch and smiling, then giving his head a bit of a shake. "Right. My place. Right." He pushed off the wall with a contented sigh, turning over his shoulder and grinning at Orlando, his eyes wicked. "Coming?"

Adjusting his jeans that were suddenly way too tight, Orlando replied with a laugh. "Fuck I hope so."

*****

Chapter 4

New Zealand - Five years ago

Marton unlocked the door to the rented apartment, tossing his keys to the ground beside the door as they walked inside and flicking the light on. "Living room, kitchen, bathroom down the hall, first door on the right," he said, pointing in the general direction as he kicked his shoes off.

Orlando pushed his shirt off of his shoulders, letting it drop and looked at Marton. "Bedroom?"

"End of the hall and left," Marton said automatically, turning around and letting out an appreciative hum. "You had a shirt on when we left the car... at least I'm pretty sure you did."

"Oh, am I violating a dress code?" Orlando said and hooked his finger into Marton's waistband and began backing toward the hallway. "Coming?"

"Just did," Marton reminded him, echoing Orlando's earlier joke, but letting him pull him towards the bedroom.

"My turn then." Orlando said.

He let go of Marton when they entered the room, looking around he turned on the light on the nightstand. "Yeah." He leaned and licked Marton's neck, dragging his teeth up to his jaw and then nipping lightly. He pulled back. "Condoms, lube?"

"Top dresser drawer," Marton said, licking his lips and watching Orlando move across the room, unable to take his eyes off him, unable to figure him out. Unable to understand the reaction he was having on him. And unwilling to care.

Orlando got the supplies and tossed them on the bed, thumbing open the buttons on his jeans, he slowly shoved them down. As he toed off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans, he lifted his hand and ran his tongue across the palm slowly. Watching Marton watch him, Orlando wrapped his long fingers around his hard cock and stroked once, a moan escaping him at the feel.

Christ, he's beautiful, Marton thought, not realizing that he'd murmured the words under his breath as well, his eyes following Orlando's hand, his fingers straying to the buttons of his shirt, only fumbling a little as he managed the last of them, tossing the shirt to the side.

"Mmhmm." Orlando said and smiled. "Oh man, I really need you." He loosely stroked his cock, barely moving his hand, just keeping a warm flush along it. "Please."

Marton crossed the room, hardly even feeling the carpet under his feet as he moved. He stopped, just in front of Orlando, reaching out to touch his face, then letting his hand drift down his cheek, fingers tracing over his neck, down his chest, skimming over his hip and cupping his arse gently. "Beautiful," he murmured, looking Orlando in the eyes, starting to drop to his knees.

Orlando caught Marton's elbow and lifted. "Wait." He leaned in and kissed him, sucking Marton's lip into his mouth before pulling his head back. He pushed his hands into the thick dark hair and buried his face against the sweat damp neck. "I - can - I want you, can I, hmm?" Orlando shifted closer, grinding his aching erection into Marton's hip.

And Jesus, didn't that sound like a good idea- or at least Marton's slowly reviving cock and seared brain certainly seemed to think so, and Marton was nodding before he even realized he was doing it, wondering for about the seventy-third time just what the hell it was about Orlando. "Yes- Christ, yes," he breathed, brushing his lips over the top of Orlando's head, then tilting Orlando's head up to look at him. "Go easy though, mate. Been awhile." Been one hell of a long while, to be honest, but Marton wasn't remotely interested in saying no.

"I'd never hurt you." Orlando said quietly and led Marton to the bed, helping him strip off his jeans. When Marton was undressed he lay down and Orlando stretched out next to him, hand moving over the tanned skin, touching, soothing, teasing. He took one nipple between his lips, mouthing it wetly before twisting the hard peak between his teeth.

Marton closed his eyes, relaxing against the bed, then arching up slightly, a soft cry spilling over his lips as he felt Orlando's teeth against his skin.

Orlando smiled and sat up, moving to kneel between Marton's legs, he then reached and uncapped the lube, coating his fingers. With one hand he rubbed across Marton's stomach, fingers scratching lightly through the coppery hairs as he licked at the erect cock. He moved the other hand below, circling and massaging around the pucker. Slowly he entered with one finger, gently moving it, feeling as Marton tensed, Orlando sucked the velvety head into his mouth, letting Marton relax before he slipped his finger in further, crooking it and feeling for the small nub of nerves.

Marton groaned as Orlando's finger first started pressing inside him, slowly managing to relax as Orlando's mouth and fingers worked and teased. It's not like you're a virgin or anything- when you were with Karl he used to fuck you all the time... it's only been- Marton ruthlessly crushed the thought before he could find out if he knew exactly long- to the day- it had been since Karl, his legs opening wider, moaning as Orlando's finger pressed over his sweet spot.

Orlando took his time, licking and kissing, using the hard edge of teeth until he could slip the second finger in. He waited, feeling the clench and then relax, and then small movement of pressing towards him and he smiled. After a few more minutes, he lifted his head, mouth watering at the sight of Marton, skin sheened with sweat in the dim lamp light, head thrown back, dark hair spread across the pillow. "Marts, you're gorgeous." He said and reaching, grabbed a condom and used his teeth to tear it open. "I need you, fuck please."

Marton nodded, forcing his eyes open and looking at Orlando, a hint of desperation showing up in them. "Please- please?" he whispered, raising his hips up in a slow, deliberate move, then lowering them to the bed again, his tongue swiping over his lower lip.

"M'kay relax for me, just breath and relax, 'kay? For me? If I need to stop, just tell me and I do, 'kay?" He removed his fingers from the warm passage, and rolled on the condom, slicking his erection with lube and then kneeling up, lifting Marton's legs out, tip of his cock barely touching him. "Babes, tell me, yeah?" He moved his hips slightly, pushing in just barely and stopping.

Marton smiled, Orlando's caution and care not to hurt him touching him, not feeling the slightest bit patronizing. "I'm okay, Orlando- its been awhile, not forever. Please- more?" he breathed.

"Yeah." He said and smiled wide, eyes sparkling. Still taking his time he pushed in slowly until he was flush against him. "Oh Christ you're tight, fuck that's hot." He groaned as he slipped out and then flexed his hips up just enough to ensure his cock dragged across Marton's prostate. The heat surrounded him, making his muscles quiver and he moaned.

Gritting his teeth, then forcing out a deep breath, Marton sighed as Orlando filled him completely. "Christ, yes..." he groaned as Orlando's cock brushed over his prostate, melting under the other man.

Orlando shifted and began to move as a rhythm developed. His breath came in harsh gasps as he thrust. "Oh fuck - Marton - goddamn." He muttered, voice raising as the felt the heat pooling in his belly. He leaned up on one arm and reached to grasp Marton's cock, the smooth warm flesh hard in his hand.

Marton cried out as Orlando's hand closed around his cock, rocking his hips in rhythm with Orlando, thrusting up into his hand, his breath coming faster.

Orlando began to shudder, movement hard and strong as he felt the pulse burn of his climax start. "Yeah, c'mon - fuck!" He cried out. Speeding up his movements until he slammed in, tensing and trembling and fell over the edge.

Arching his back and lifting them both up off the bed, Marton gasped, pulsing over Orlando's hand as he came, slowly reaching up and wrapping his arms around the other man.

Orlando snorted a soft laugh and reached down to place a kiss on Marton's mouth. He knelt up, carefully pulled out, removing the condom and then lay down beside Marton. His heart thudded in his chest and he was grinning. He shifted and laid his head against Marton's shoulder, kissing the golden skin before settling in. "Damn." he said in a raspy voice.

"Seconded," Marton groaned, stretching out against the bed, wrapping an arm loosely around Orlando. "You really are like no one I've ever known, Orlando. And I hardly know you," he added, snorting a little at that.

"Mmm, just wait'll you get to know me." He said, hand running across the flat plane of Marton's stomach. He sat up suddenly. "Oh fuck sorry. Hang on." He rolled off the bed and headed out of the room and across the hall. Coming back a few minutes later with a bath towel dampened. "Sorry." He said and smiling, sat next to Marton and gently wiped him clean.

Marton closed his eyes, murmuring happily as Orlando cleaned him off, his respect for the younger man growing all the time. "Thanks, mate. 'Though I can think of worse things than waking up stuck to someone as bloody good looking as you." He paused, thinking for a moment. "Unless you wanted me to take you home." he said reluctantly, feeling he had to make the offer.

"Un uh." Orlando said and snuggled in next to Marton. He scooted until his lips were against the shell of Marton's ear. "Don't want to go yet. 'Cause if I stay then we can fuck again, right?"

"Oh Christ," Marton laughed, even as he shuddered with pleasure at the thought. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"I go down, you go down? Right?" Orlando said laughing and rolled across Marton, hugging him.

*****

Chapter 5

New Zealand - Five years ago

Orlando rubbed his eyes and stared into the makeup mirror. "Fuck I hate those contacts." He said and reached to grab his bag.

" Orlando? Whining about contacts rule," Viggo drawled.

"Cunt." Orlando said and flashed him a smile. "Yer just pissy 'cause I get to be prettier than you."

"Yeah, because being 'pretty' is something I've always aspired to be," Viggo snorted.

"Hmmph." Orlando sniffed and headed for the door.

"Where you going? It's Wednesday," Viggo said, cocking his head to the side and looking at Orlando, puzzled.

"Oh - uh - yeah." Orlando rubbed at his nose, shuffling his feet. "I'm headed to Marton's."

"You're going where?" Viggo's jaw dropped staring at Orlando. "But it's been what- a week?"

"Yeah, almost two." Orlando said, still fidgeting.

Viggo sat up and leaned forward, staring harder at Orlando, studying his body language. "You like him."

"No, I mean I like him - you know - but not like that." Orlando stopped and stared at Viggo, lifting his chin. "Fuck off Vig. It's not like I'm gonna run off with the guy. He's a great lay, that's all."

"Who else you fuck this week?" Viggo asked, leaning back in the chair again, a strange smile on his face.

"Nobody." Orlando said with an evident sniff. "Not that it's any of your bloody business."

"Now, don't get sensitive there, Orli," Viggo said, more than a little bit amused. "I'm just saying- I'm a great lay. And the same week you fucked me, you fucked who- Dom and ...John?" his eyes sparkled.

"I have never fucked John! Yeah, you and Dommie and - oh fuck off Vig. It's - I - John? You cunt! My dick's gonna draw up and hide just at thought of that!" Orlando said, eyes flashing.

Viggo threw back his head and laughed, Orlando's indignation too much. "Christ, Orlando- listen to yourself? What are you so upset about- well, other'n the John comment, I suppose," he conceded.

"Marton's a nice guy, that's all. And man, have you looked at his eyes, and he's got a great dick." Orlando reached for the door. "It's no big deal Vigs, it'll wear off." He said, flashing another smile.

"You sure you want it to wear off?" Viggo murmured. "More important- does he know it will?"

As Orlando out the door he said over his shoulder, "yes and yes, cunt."

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

Craig looked up as Marton walked into the trailer. "Hey, haven't seen much of you lately. How're you doing?"

"I'm good," Marton looked up with a wide grin. "I'm great, actually."

Craig raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Yeah? Great huh? Any reason?"

"It's just... Christ, Craig. I feel like I'm a bloody fifteen year old with a crush, and I don't even care. He's like no one I've ever known."

Craig looked down, scratching at his arm. Looking up at his friend's smiling face, he said, "Well, I won't argue with that." He cleared his throat. "Come out with David and I tonight. Have some dinner and we'll tell stories on each other."

Marton squirmed, then grinned. "Can't. I'm seeing him tonight. Another time?"
"Marton, c'mon mate. Let the kid go play with the hobbits for the night. They used to entertain him just fine before you got here."

"Craig- you aren't getting it- I want to see him tonight. It's not like I'm just showing up to provide entertainment," Marton rolled his eyes, grabbing a bottle of water from the small fridge.

"Marton, you aren't thinking this is anything more than a set fling, are you? Because that's all it is I guarantee you that's all he's capable of." Craig said quietly.

Marton didn't answer, tipping the water bottle back, draining half of it in one pull.

"Marton, I - I'm just looking out for you."

"Craig- I love you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, and I hope you know I love you too." Craig's smile somewhat reserved.

"I know you do. Look, I'm happy. I like him. Can't you just be happy that I'm happy? I wouldn't have thought you'd be the type to buy into on-set gossip."

"Marton, it isn't gossip, okay?"

Marton finished off his water and tossed the bottle towards the trashcan, growling when he missed, and heading for the door to the trailer.

"Marton!" Craig took a step toward his friend. "I'm sorry, I just don't want you to get hurt. Marton?"

"I appreciate what you're trying to do, Craig. But I'm not a kid. And neither is he. Just let it go, please." He took a deep breath and let it out, unclenching his hands, not even knowing he'd tightened them in the first place. "I don't want to fight with you."

Craig watched Marton for a heartbeat before he shrugged, a tight smile on his face. "Yeah, none of my business anyway, right? I don't want to fight either so - still friends?"

Marton rolled his eyes and grinned. "Of course we're still friends. Dinner tomorrow- on me."

"Sounds good, call me." Craig said.

Marton grinned, and took off, heading for the car park.

*****

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