"Yeah, I see that," Viggo replied. "Now keep your voice down, or they'll hear us and stop." "Fuck forbid they take their lovers' spat to someplace more private," Sean joked. He passed the jar of unsalted peanuts down the line, huddled further in his director's chair. "What'd you suppose they argue about, anyway?" "Which one of 'em's got the better hair?" Billy guessed. "Oooh, that must've hurt." Bret shrugged off Orlando's hand violently, made a sweeping gesture with his arm as he whispered furiously, face contorted with anger. "Orlando's forehead's all wrinkled the way it gets when he's pissed." "Think they'll come to blows?" "Nonsense, Dommie, they might mar the perfection of their features," Ian scoffed. He brought Craig's hand to his lips, lightly kissed smooth knuckles. "I'm so glad we're beyond this." "Fighting in private is much more interesting," Craig agreed. "How d'you figure?" Dom asked, nodding towards the spectacle before them. "Where's the entertainment value in privacy?" "Not everyone is as keen to put their lives on display as those two," Ian stated. "Pity." Sean shook his head, winced. "Whatever it was that was said, Bret's not too happy about it." "Orlando probably called himself the prettier one," Billy mused, chewing thoughtfully on a mouthful of peanuts. Bret stomped away, bellowing some insult over his shoulder. Orlando didn't go after him this time, but whatever he shouted to the other man's retreating back was enough to have Bret whirling around again. "Uh oh," Sean said. "Not smart." "When's Orli ever been smart?" Viggo wondered. "You'd think he'd know Bret's temper by now," Craig mused. "I would imagine that's why he's pushing," Ian said. They all watched in silence as Bret stalked closer. Orlando didn't back up, just tossed his flaxen wig behind his shoulders, feet wide apart, meeting Bret's fury full-on. "Oh, don't do it, don't do it, don't..." Billy grimaced, hid his face in Dom's shoulder. "I didn't need to see that." "Price you pay for looking," Viggo grinned, clapping Billy on the back. "Kinda hot, though." "Kinda looks more like they're orally raping each other than actually kissing, dunnit?" Sean mused, stroking his goatee thoughtfully. "Why, Sean, are you curious?" Ian's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Don't be daft, Ian." But Sean's eyes flickered ever-so-briefly to Viggo's lips. Ian smirked, then settled back in the crook of Craig's arms to watch the show. Orlando and Bret continued to battle it out with lips and tongues instead of fists, both of them intent on winning. "Wonder when they'll remember they're in public?" Dom wondered, throwing a companionable arm around Billy's shoulders. "If they rip those robes, wardrobe'll have a fit." "Make-up's already gonna kill 'em," Craig agreed. "Oh, wait, no. Score one for the wigs," Viggo chuckled, as Orlando tugged sharply on Bret's wig, exposed the long column of his throat to possessive teeth. Billy risked a glance up, then promptly squeezed his eyes shut again. "If the clothes start flying, I'm outta here." "Nope, got you trapped, gonna make you watch every sordid bit," Dom grinned. "Perv." "Hello, pot." "Boys, boys," Ian drawled. "Some restraint, if you please." "Why? Those two don't have any," Billy stated, glancing again at Bret and Orlando, still locked together in a furious, full-bodied kiss. "And thank God for that," Sean stated. "Who has the peanuts?" Billy wordlessly passed them down.
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