deleerium_fic: (sins bloom orlando)
[personal profile] deleerium_fic
Title: Sin's Bloom
Pairing: Harry Sinclair (written by [ profile] lunasv)/ Orlando Bloom (written by [ profile] deleerium)
Rating: R
Summary: Up all night camping to film the sunrise scene.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

It's late afternoon when Harry makes it to location, side of a mountain, gorgeous scenery if he weren't running rewrites out for Peter, traipsing out to where they're going to film a sunrise scene. Still, it's a chance to see Orlando and he does like camping, so it's a win-win situation. The tents are already up, but they're still filming a scene, so Harry settles himself on the sidelines, watching elf, human and dwarf run back and forth over the same patch of grass.

Mostly he's watching the elf. Don't even think about it. You mess up that costume and Ngila will flay you.

Orlando's about given up with the whole run while speaking a line over your shoulder thing. He sprints between Aragorn and the dwarf and just spits it out, breathless and frustrated.

Peter yells "Cut! Perfect. Take ten everybody."

It's all Orlando can do not to laugh as he skids to a stop, breathing heavy from all the running. "Of course it's perfect," he mutters, "I wasn't trying." He straightens and stretches, pulling one arm back over his head and spies Harry lounging on a director's chair. He waits patiently for the makeup team to fix his hair and dab the sweat from his forehead and nose before he heads in Harry's direction, eating up the distance in Legolas's long strides.

"Hi. Long blond hair, sexy leggings. It's you." Harry grins, elbows on the chair arms and legs spread. "Close to wrapping up?"

"Yeah, one more shot of me coming up the hill in front of Gimly and I think we're done." Orlando flicks his blue gaze from the top of Harry's head to his toes. And back again. "Comfortable sprawl, sexy jeans, director's chair - it's you."

"Thanks. I think it looks good on me." Harry slides his hand along the wood, touches Orlando's arm. "Hear you have to be up before dawn, looking elf pretty."

"The sacrifices we elves make for one of Peter's money shots." Orlando shifts closer at the touch. "The plan is to camp out here, not waste time going back to Wellington. Don't suppose you'd like to stay for the duration? There's talk of cooking out and trying to stay up all night."

"Why do you think I'm here? Well, other than running rewrites up to the master." Harry turns Orlando's hand over, traces a circle on his palm. "The chance to stay up all night, listen to Viggo recite poetry or whatever."

"You're staying," Orlando breathes, gaze drawn to the fingertips tracing his palm. "Promise you'll kiss the elf at least once in the moonlight." He lifts his gaze to Harry's. "I hear it brings good luck."

"It does? Then I'll make sure I kiss the elf." Harry meets Orlando's eyes. "He might get a bit more if there's not so bright a moon."

Orlando licks his lower lip, the elf's tights get a little too tight. "Then I'll pray for a new one." A shout comes from the general direction of the crew and Orlando's head turns towards the sound. "Ten's up. I've literally got to go run." Impulsively, he lifts Harry's hand and bows over it - pressing a hot kiss to the palm - before tossing his hair over his shoulder and sprinting back into character.

Harry settles back into the chair and watches, making the occasional mental note to talk to Peter about a script change here and there. When the sun's down, they finally call it a stop and the food crew opens the mess tent. Dinner's casual, plates on knees around a couple fires, Harry staying a respectful distance across the fire pit from Orlando, who's been caught up in conversation with Viggo.

"Yeah, went out on the water a couple of weeks ago." Orlando touches the bandanna holding his blond wig in place - hopefully until morning - and glances across the fire at Harry. He's only half paying attention to what Viggo's saying, torn between the actor's easy company and longing to be across the fire. I can talk to Viggo any time. "I'm going to get another water." He waves him empty bottle and excuses himself, snags a bottle from a nearby ice chest and crosses over to sit casually on the empty stretch of log next to Harry. "Hi, you."

"Hi, yourself," Harry says, reaching over and snagging the bottle, taking a long sip before passing it back. "The sage impart any wisdom of note?"

Orlando grins at the theft and tips the bottle back against his own mouth, sucking the rim a little as he swallows. "Nothing I haven't heard twice already." His grin fades to a tired smile. "Try to be still, Orlando, let the scene speak for you. Don't fidget. Hit your mark. Find the beat." He looks at Harry, his expression doubtful. "I'm white and British. I don't have any rhythm."

Harry laughs, a deep and robust sound. "You have rhythm, Orlando. On the board, in the bed," he says, leaning closer, "and definitely on the screen."

"I really, really want to kiss you for that," Orlando murmurs, matching the angle of Harry's lean, his smile bright as their foreheads gently touch. "This film business is so much more difficult. On stage, I know where I am." Pulling back to gesture at the mountain landscape that's their nighttime backdrop. "Here, sometimes I don't know where I start and end."

It never fails to delight Harry, amaze him how Orlando is wise beyond his years. "You start and end here," he says, placing his hand on Orlando's chest, over his hear. "Everything about you, Orlando, is from the heart. I've learned that in a very short time." He stands and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Wanna walk?"

There are dozens of people around, it's technically the middle of a work night, if not work day, and it should probably involve something with roses or candles or at least the ocean. But Orlando doesn't care. And he trusts that no one but Harry will hear him say, "I love you." He says it quietly, his smile beaming softly in the light of the fire as he stands up. "And yes, I want to walk." He falls in step with Harry, slowly winding their way out of the firelight.

"I heard that," Harry says when they're away from the crowd, taking Orlando's hand in his when they reach the outcropping of stone. "You look better in that costume than Craig, a much prettier elf." It's random conversation, but it seems to fill the space around them with a gentle comfort. "Still, I like you better in jeans," he adds, "or the wet suit."

Orlando curls his fingers around Harry's, more than just his hand warmed by the contact. "I definitely like you in the wet suit. And jeans." His smile flashes in the dim light and he moves closer, shoulders brushing. "And no jeans." They stroll in step, slowly winding their way through more stone outcrops and their miniature valleys, leaving the camp and firelight behind. "So would you call this a date as well?" His tone teasing.

"Yeah, it's a date," Harry murmurs, soft voice carrying on the night breeze. "I like dates ... with you. They're comfortable." The minute he says it, Harry knows it sounds weird. Comfortable. Oh, yeah. That's a great compliment.

Orlando laughs. "Damn, we skipped right over the sexy bits to comfortable. I was kind of looking forward to that part in the middle."

Harry stops, turns to Orlando and nudges him back against a rock. "We can get back to the sexy," he says, kissing Orlando. It's soft at first, getting more intense over the next few minutes, one hand still holding Orlando's, the other on his lover's waist.

Whoa. Orlando's hand tightens in Harry's, his knees going wobbly as Harry gives an excellent demonstration of sexy. He struggles against the urge to wind a leg around Harry's waist, breaking the kiss instead, so he can draw a proper breath. "Whoa." He blinks at Harry for a second, then uses his free hand to drag Harry back into the kiss, giving in and wrapping one slender leg around his hip.

It's Harry's turn to be breathless when that kiss is over. "Wow," he mutters. "That's definitely sexy. How long before they realize we're gone? Send a search party?"

"At least a half-hour." Orlando slips his hands under Harry's jacket, face pressed against a shoulder as he wraps his arms around the warmth. "Maybe more if Viggo can distract those nosy hobbit."

"Thirty minutes. Enough time to seduce an elf," Harry says, getting his hands under Orlando's jerkin and shirt, rubbing fingers over chilled flesh, "though not sure we should undress you in this chill. Maybe just press you back against the rock and I can warm you with my mouth."

Orlando's knees do the whole mush thing again and his hands tighten on Harry's shirt, goose flesh coming and going in waves as Harry's hands roam over his bare skin. "Out here?" His whisper voicing the doubt his body is clearly not experiencing, cock growing embarrassingly hard under his leggings.

"Out here." Harry slowly drops himself, fingers catching in the leggings and tugging them down till he can run his thumbs over the length of Orlando's cock. "Stay quiet," he murmurs, on his knees now and kissing the growing erection. "Or we'll have an audience."

"Oh, god," Orlando whispers, hands pressing against the rock. Harry's kisses make him want to moan particularly dirty words. But they're not that far from camp and Harry's right - sound carries farther out here than in the city. So Orlando bites back the sounds and it makes him harder, faster.

There's a faint smile on Harry's lips, one he slides over Orlando's cock, sucking just on the head for a moment, then sliding down over the length, letting his teeth graze the skin. It's less finesse than working the cock, taking minimal time to get Orlando to the edge.

The heat from Harry's mouth is intense compared to the cool air around them. Orlando jerks at the graze of teeth, his cock already starting to leak. "Harry," he whispers, the intensity communicated in the strained word. He tangles a hand in dark hair, breath hissing between his teeth as his body tightens, held on the edge of coming.

Harry grabs Orlando's wrist, tightens his fingers, not thinking about the bruise he must leaving. He's sucking hard as he can, head held steady, intent on forcing Orlando over that edge, and all it takes is a final press of tongue in the right spot.

Orlando muffles his shout, coming so hard his head snaps back and his thighs shake with the force of it. He gulps air while he waits for the tremors to settle and his ability to stand return, his arm hanging easily in Harry's bruising fingers.

"Best we get back," Harry says, coming to his feet and straightening Orlando's clothes. He wants more, but it's not worth risking. There's the whole night left and ample opportunity to steal time together. He slides his hand around Orlando's neck, pulls him in for another kiss.

Still a little dazed, Orlando makes a soft noise when he tastes himself on Harry's tongue. He leans into Harry, pouring post-orgasmic lust and a thank you into the kiss. He's smiling when they pull apart. "I have a three day break coming up. I plan on spending most of it with you." He glances at Harry, his brow creased. "If that's okay?"

Harry's fingers play with the wig's long strands and he pretends to give the question thought. Hell, yes, it's okay would be just too eager. "I think I can find something to do with you for three days."

Orlando remembers to breathe once he realizes Harry's teasing. "It's not to late for me to take the hobbits up on their three day pub crawl slash video game marathon offer." He's smiling as he falls in step, one arm slipping around Harry's waist. "But I'd rather spend it with you. Just promise you'll tell me if I'm driving you crazy."

Anonymous( )Anonymous This account has disabled anonymous posting.
OpenID( )OpenID You can comment on this post while signed in with an account from many other sites, once you have confirmed your email address. Sign in using OpenID.
Account name:
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.


Notice: This account is set to log the IP addresses of everyone who comments.
Links will be displayed as unclickable URLs to help prevent spam.