"Oooh, let's see it, then," Orlando said, and snatched the piece of paper from Dom's hand. He scanned the contents, snagged on a few of the words. Imagined Sean Bean with his Voice Of Sex saying them. Adjusted himself as surreptitiously as he could because, well, that's what happened when he imagined Sean speaking. Sort of Pavlovian, really. Only without all the drool. He looked up when he got to the end, grin lighting his entire face. "You're a fucking genius, Sblom." "Of course I am." "Hand it over." Orlando held it just out of Elijah's reach. "When you're older." "Oh, fuck off." "Let me see it, then," Billy said, and when Orlando gave the paper to him, he turned around and handed it to Elijah. Who promptly stuck out his tongue. "Oi!" "Give over, Orli, I'm that one that'll be stuck listening to him whinge all day," Billy replied, leaning back in his makeup chair with a negligent wave. "I don't whinge." "Like hell," Dom scoffed, and dropped into the chair next to Billy. "Whatever, shut up, I'm reading," Elijah replied, dismissing them both. "This is some good shit," he stated, after he'd read the page. "But Sean'll never go for it." "It's a recipe for strawberry shortbread," Dom pointed out. "How can he refuse?" "He refused to read the GQ article on the best way to knot ties." "And the motorcycle article on overhead cams and torque." "Ah, yes, but he did read the one on stick shift engines," Orlando said. And everyone in the room sighed happily in remembrance, none more so than Orlando. That had been a very good day – if slightly frustrating, what with how hard he'd been once Sean had finished reading. Dom had half-heartedly offered to help him take care of it, which had been nice and all, but Dom was patently not Sean, and so Orlando had refused. Sometimes Orlando was very disappointed in himself for not being more of a slut. Being discerning was all well and good, but it made for lonely nights with only the old right hand to keep him company. He was heartily sick of his right hand. "It's his own fault for having the sexiest voice known to man," Dom shrugged. "You have a very good point," Billy agreed. "At lunch, then?" "A sound plan," Orlando nodded. The principal Fellowship had a small break together that would give them plenty of time. "But I'll give it to him." Dom raised an eyebrow, tried for imperious. It failed miserably. "Hey, I'm the one that found it." "And he's refused you twice, Sblom. He hasn't said no to me yet." "Only because he still thinks he's got a chance to get down your pants," Elijah stated. "I wish. He's not interested." Orlando tried not to be too depressed by the thought. He'd tried flirting when they'd all first gotten together for rehearsals – well, as much as he'd been able to what with being tongue-tied a lot of the time around Sean, but Sean hadn't flirted back and that had been that. Stupid Sean and his stupid sexy self being sexy without him. "'Sides," he continued, "Sean's got Viggo." Which was equally depressing, because if there was one person on set that could hope to match Sean for sexiness, it would probably be Viggo. Figured they were together. "I just want to watch them roll around naked with each other just once." Billy clapped Dom on the back in commiseration. "Aye, wouldn't we all, lad." *** "Oi! Sean!" Sean glanced up at the voice coming from across the compound. Orlando, of course, who else would call after Sean quite like that? "Here we go again," he grumbled, and turned from Viggo to plaster a fake smile on his face. "Cheer up," Viggo grinned, and ruffled Sean's hair. "The kid's got a crush on you. Feel flattered." "Hardly," Sean scoffed, because if there was anyone with less of a crush on him than Orlando, it would probably be Viggo. Which was really too bad when Sean thought about it, because if he had to pick who he might want to have a bit of fun with on the set, Orlando would have been at the top. Viggo wouldn't be anywhere near Sean's list, but that was only because Viggo was stark raving, and an artist, and Sean knew too many loonies to get mixed up with one. He waited for Orlando to extricate himself from one of the costume designers, who'd had the temerity to try to cross in front of Orlando with an armful of fabric. Orlando was a darling lad, but not exactly the most graceful of people, and was forever running into things. Which was sort of ironic, seeing as how poised Orlando was when he was playing Legolas. Sean turned back to Viggo. "He and the Hobbits have some sort of odd bet going to make me read the most ridiculous things – I'd bet the bank on it." "And I'd bet the bank it's just that the kid wants to drop to his knees for you and is hoping if he's around enough you'll take the hint." "Vig!!" Viggo just waggled his brows suggestively and walked away. Sean had never known anyone who acted less their age than Viggo. "Hey, there you are." Orlando, slightly out of breath, beaming at him. Made those pretty eyes of his look fantastically large. "Here I am." "Can I talk to you for a tick?" "We're not talking now?" "Please." How did anyone say no to those doe-like eyes? "Yeah, yeah." He stepped close, dropped his voice, and viciously fought the urge to step even closer. Viggo's innuendos were messing with his head, all there was to it. "What is it?" "The thing is..." Orlando paused, and licked his lips. His very full lips. It was a Herculean effort not to offer to help. "I need you to read a recipe for me." "Again?" Sean groaned, all thoughts of Orlando's lips or eyes or any other part of Orlando's very nice body forgotten. Definitely a bet of some sort. "Christ, Orlando, can't you read?" "Of course I can, that's not the –" "Point, yes, I know. Your sainted grandmother and all." Although Sean had his doubts that Orlando's grandmother really wanted Sean 'Sharpe' Bean and no other to read articles and recipes and fuck all knew what else to her. No, the Hobbits were up to something cheeky. And dragging Orlando into the thick of it, because they were always dragging him into the thick of things. Nevermind that Orlando always seemed very willing to be dragged. "Fine," he finally replied. "But I'll only read it for you. Dom and Billy and Lij can't hang about like they normally do." "Brilliant, I'll just...wait, what?" Sean smiled inwardly at Orlando's look of horror, and the way Orlando stepped away from him. Fancies me, my arse. "I mean it, Orlando, just you. Come by mine after we wrap up, I'll make dinner." "You cook?" "Don't sound so surprised." "Sorry, I didn't mean to..." "It's alright." Sean fought the urge to ruffle Orlando's unkempt Mohawk. He really was spending too much time with Viggo. "Just make sure the other lads don't follow you or my dastardly plan won't work." Orlando's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What dastardly plan?" "The one you think I have, of course." "But, I don't." The space between Orlando's brows now furrowed in confusion. It was a decidedly cute look. "Think that, I mean." "Then you shouldn't have any problems being alone with me." Sean was rather proud of the logic, if he said so himself. "No, I guess not." "Splendid," Sean grinned. "I'll see you tonight, then." "Ta," Orlando murmured, and wandered off, looking very confused. But looking terribly cute while doing it. Poor lad, Sean thought to himself, and chuckled. *** "Well?" Dom asked, when they finally had more than a few minutes worth of time between takes. "Yeah, well?" Elijah echoed, after looking around the set frantically to make sure they weren't being overheard. Not that Orlando thought it was a national secret or anything, but Elijah was forever acting like this was a James Bond movie and they needed to be covert. "He'll do it," Orlando said. "Brilliant!" Dom exclaimed, and pumped his fist in the air. It looked slightly incongruous with the full-Hobbit costume and wig. "Not so fast. He said you lot couldn't tag along. He'll only do it for me." Which Orlando was still trying to figure out how that had happened or how Sean had so neatly trapped him into going over to his place. Alone, he might add. Definitely, Sean's Voice Of Sex had some sort of hypnotic quality to it. It was the only explanation. "Hold on, now, it was my bloody recipe." "That's what he said," Orlando shrugged, trying to act like it was no big deal that Sean Bean wanted to be alone with him. "Bugger that, he's reading for the lot of us or not at all." "Oh, get off it, you want him to read it as much as the rest of us," Orlando said, rolling his eyes. "I am going to be recording it, you know." Well, he hoped. "Why just you, anyway?" Elijah wanted to know. "No clue." Especially since Sean didn't even want him. Which was depressing, but if Orlando had to choose between himself and Viggo, he'd probably choose Viggo, too, so it's not like he blamed Sean. Precisely. Except that his poor right hand would be getting yet another workout tonight. He wondered how he was going to keep from climbing all over Sean like a limpet – did limpets even climb? – while Sean was reading. "I'm telling you, he's up to something," Billy said, with a decisive nod of his head. "He says he's not." "You asked him?" "No, he just volunteered." "Then he's definitely up to something," Dom declared. "Be careful," Elijah said, and patted Orlando's arm. *** No reason to be nervous, yeah? Orlando patted his pocket for the umpteenth time, felt the piece of paper, and tried to control his racing heart. No reason to be nervous. Except this was Sean Bean. And Orlando was getting ready to knock on his door. And be alone – completely alone – with him. And the Voice Of Sex. And his very Pavlovian reaction to it. "Bloody coward," Orlando muttered to himself and knocked before he could talk himself out of it. Sean answered the door promptly, wearing a frayed pair of jeans and a button-down that might have been dark blue about a thousand washes ago. When Orlando glanced down, he saw that Sean was barefoot. "C'mon in," Sean smiled, and held the door open. Into the dragon's lair, and what in God's name was wrong with him? "Can I get you anything to drink?" Sean continued, as Orlando followed him down the hallway and into the cramped kitchen, trying to keep a respectable distance. And not so he could stare at Sean's award-winning arse. Honest. "Um...whatever you're having." Orlando leaned against one of the counters, tried to be nonchalant about it. He was quite positive he was failing miserably. "Bacardi and Coke it is." When Sean smiled, it crinkled the corners of his eyes in a way that never failed to make Orlando's breath catch. Now was no exception. Add the crinkles in with the Voice Of Sex and, really, it was no wonder that Orlando spent most of his time around Sean sporting semi-wood. Then Sean pressed a glass in his hand and their fingers brushed together, and Orlando sort of lost his breath again. There was a reason why he hadn't wanted to be alone with Sean, and this was it. "So," he said, and smiled brightly. "So." Sean leaned against the other counter, but, in the cozy confines of the kitchen, he was still far too close for comfort. Or breathing. Or doing anything at all other than studying those crinkles and possibly counting them. "I was thinking chicken piccata for dinner." Just the way the man said piccata should be illegal. "Y-yeah, alright." "You sure you're fine?" Sean looked concerned, which made the crinkles even more pronounced than his smile. "Hmm?" Then Orlando shook his head to clear it. "Yeah, yeah, I'm, y'know, long days." "You wanna tell me what's up with you and the Hobbits?" "What's up with me and the Hobbits?" Orlando parroted, lost. What wasn't going on with him and the Hobbits, aside from the obvious, which everyone probably thought anyway. "I know you lot have a bet going on, don't try to snow me," Sean said, and straightened, which put him in very close proximity to Orlando, and Orlando's very needy, traitorous body. "Bet?" he asked, trying desperately not to think of Sean's body and its proximity, or of the way Sean's mouth looked when it formed words, or of how he sounded forming them, and, instead, on what Sean was actually saying to him. "To get me to read the ridiculous articles and recipes and whatnot. I know it's not for your grandmother." Sean was many things, but he wasn't thick. Which was sexy, in the way that everything about Sean was sexy, but Orlando thought it was probably a good idea that he not tell Sean what was really going on. "It's, y'know, it's not a bet," he replied, and took a nervous sip of his drink. More Bacardi than Coke. Sean took a step, and that was all it took to have him crowding against Orlando. "So, what is it, then?" Sean asked, and even his voice sounded more intimate. "It's...um..." Orlando tried to wrack his brain, think of something, he really did, but it was hard to concentrate with Sean right there, looking sexy and rumpled and serious and that voice – God, that voice – wrapping around him like a blanket. A very sexy, rumpled blanket. "It's your voice," he blurted out, then closed his eyes in horror. He could just feel the bright swatches of color blossoming across his cheeks. "My voice?" Orlando cracked one eye open. Sean was still standing there – much too close – but he looked so adorably confused that some of the nervousness abated. "Well, you have to know you have a Voice Of Sex." "I do?" "Oh, come on," Orlando scoffed. "It's legendary." Sean's eyes also crinkled when he was puzzled. Which was also, predictably, a sexy look on him. "I don't suppose I've ever really thought about it." "Vig's never mentioned it?" "Why would Vig care about my voice?" They couldn't have all been that off? Could they? "Aren't you two...?" "Aren't we...?" Then Sean got it. His face cleared, and his smile was lethally bright. "Oh. Uh, no. We're not." A tiny part of Orlando was deeply disappointed by the idea that the two hottest men he'd ever known weren't getting naked together. But the larger – the much larger – part of him was elated. "So, that means..." "I'm not shagging Viggo is what it means." Then a calculating look came over Sean's face, and he stepped even closer, chest brushing against Orlando's arm. Deliberately brushing against Orlando's arm, because Orlando was also many things, but he also wasn't thick. "Why, you looking to fill that place in my bed?" Yes! "Um." Orlando licked his lips. Sean's eyes, and his crinkles, followed the movement. He couldn't be reading this right. Sean was not saying what Orlando thought he was saying, except that Orlando had been paying attention to the words, and not just Sean saying them, and it was definitely what he thought. Which meant... "Maybe." Sean's smile was low, held worlds of intent. Orlando went from semi-hard to ready for business in the space of a heartbeat. "What might it take to get you to say yes?" Orlando shrugged, a move that fooled neither of them, and, surprised at his own daring, lifted a hand to sift through Sean's hair. It was surprisingly soft, unlike Sean's body pressed against him, which was decidedly not soft. "Why don't we start with you reading the recipe I've got here in my pocket and I'll let you know," he murmured, and did an inward, very happy, Dance of Potential Sex On The Horizon. "For you, I could talk all night," Sean grinned, and then Sean's lips covered his and talking of any kind was the last thing on Orlando's mind for a very long time. *** "Well?" Dom pounced the moment Orlando stumbled into the trailer the next morning. "Sorry, no go," Orlando shrugged, and flopped blearily in one of the makeup chairs. Christ, he was beat. Then he thought about the reason he was beat – and late – and inwardly gave himself a high-five. Who knew Sean would be so...inventive? And would have so much stamina? "Wait, he said no to you?" Elijah frowned. "That doesn't sound right." Orlando knew his smile had to be partially smug, partially amused. "He most definitely did not say no to me." Quite the opposite, but Elijah really was too young to hear about what Sean did say. And moan. Christ, Sean moaning was even hotter than Sean talking using the Voice Of Sex. "But he's not reading anything else for us." "Didn't say no..." Billy's voice trailed off, then his eyes got huge. "Y'don't mean...?" Orlando nodded gleefully. "Sean and Viggo are not now, nor have they ever been, naked together." "Disappointing," Billy grinned. "But good for you, I bet." "You have no idea." So good, in fact, that he and Sean were getting together tonight for a repeat. At this rate, Orlando would probably be dead from lack of sleep by the end of the month, but he wasn't going to complain. "Told you he fancied you," Dom said, and clapped Orlando on the shoulder. "Lucky bastard." "So..." Elijah's face screwed up in concentration. "This mean we get a sex tape?" Orlando just groaned.
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