"Yeah, guess so," Dom replied. "But not as much as I have been, I guess, now that Dave and Karl are coming around more often." Orlando gave Dom a blank look. "What are you on about? Coming round where?" "To the Playground." "Still lost." Dom looked around, made sure no one else was within earshot. "You mean, they haven't invited you to come and play?" "Who? Invited where?" Orlando whispered back. "Viggo and Sean," Dom said. "They haven't invited you to the house yet?" "Of course they have. We're there all the bloody time." "I don't mean like that. I meant...you know...to play." "You're just gonna have to spell it out for me. I must be having a Legolas blond moment." Again, Dom looked around, dropped his voice so low that Orlando had to strain to hear him. "To share? You know, each other?" Orlando just stared blankly at Dom again. Share? Share...oh bloody hell...Share! "Are you serious?" Dom nodded. "How do you even know they do this?" Dom shrugged, tugged on his 'ear' a little harder than he meant to. "I just do." Orlando may be a bit slow on the uptake at the moment, but that didn't mean he was completely bent. "They've invited you." Dom just gave a nervous nod. "That's why you've been over there so much. I thought you were developing photos." Orlando couldn't help the note of accusation in his tone. "I am developing pictures," Dom argued. "I just happed to be...um...well..." "Shagging the geezers as a bonus?" "It's not like that, Orlando, don't be crude. I've never, you know, had them or anything. Still mostly straight. But they are fun to fool around with. Very attentive." Attentive? They'd never paid Orlando any attention. He wasn't sure how he should feel about that. "You mentioned others. Who else has been invited, as you put it?" Dom hunched up lean shoulders. "Karl and Dave...that I know of." "Karl?! Dave?! Are you serious?" Orlando lowered his voice again when he realized he was drawing a little too much attention to himself from Elijah and Astin, who were on the other side of the counter. "I didn't even know they swung both ways." "That's 'cause you've been spending all your free time chasing after Hugo," Dom told him. "The man's obviously straight." "Yeah, well, so are you, remember?" "Ouch." Dom rubbed his chest. "That hurt." "Truth often does." "Oh, sod off." Dommie? Dave? Karl? Now Orlando was all kinds of upset. Why had they never invited him, anyway? What in bleeding hell was wrong with him? He was actually bi, for fuck's sake, unlike Mr. Monaghan over here, so was just experimenting, or so Orlando guessed. Or Karl or Dave...okay, well, he didn't really know about their sexual orientations, but that wasn't the point, now, was it? "Right," Orlando muttered, still fuming. Thought they'd diss him, did they? Well, he'd show them. He was Orlando fucking Bloom, for fuck's sake. Women loved him. Men loved him. And Sean and Viggo were going to damn well love him if he had anything at all to say about it. * * * Orlando slammed the door shut on his car, impatient strides eating the ground. The cabin looked beautiful at this time of night, with the moonlight glinting off the trees, but Orlando took no notice. His sole attention was focused on who was inside. And what he was going to say. He banged on the door, bouncing anxiously from one foot to the other. Come on, come on... Viggo opened the door, looking all disheveled, like he'd just thrown on his jeans and t-shirt, his dark hair messy and uncombed, flowing about his shoulders. "Orlando?" He asked, looking puzzled. "You do realize it's nearing midnight. What are you doing here?" "You've got some explaining to do," Orlando stated, and brushed right past Viggo into the living room. Place was still as messy as ever, he observed. "Where's Sean?" "Upstairs, why?" "Sean!!!!" Orlando called, ignoring Viggo. "Get your Northern arse down here, now!!" Viggo continued to stand in the doorway, arms crossed, still looking at him with an air of benign puzzlement. Sean popped his head over the banister, blond hair falling in his face. "Who's...Orlando? What's going on?" Orlando merely pointed to the floor in front of him. "Get down here. Now. Please," he added. No harm in being somewhat polite. Sean trotted down the steps, clad in ratty pajama bottoms and a thin tank top, and took a look at Viggo, who shrugged and returned his gaze to Orlando. Orlando looked back and forth between the two of them. Both excellent examples of masculine grace in its prime. And got mad all over again that they'd denied him the chance to be a part of that. "Look, I just want to know what's wrong with me, alright?" he finally blurted out. Viggo's eyes widened. Sean looked at him, clearly baffled. "What do you mean, what's wrong with you?" Sean asked. "I mean, what's wrong with me?" Orlando thumped his chest for emphasis. "What does Dommie have that I don't. Or Karl? Or Dave, for that matter?" Viggo still looked mystified. "Sean, do you have any idea what he's talking about?" "Not a one. Orlando, love, calm down, breathe in, tell us what the problem is." Sean's sure, slow, sexy voice washed over Orlando, weakening his knees. You'd think a Brit accent wouldn't be a turn-on for him, since he was Brit himself and all, but, then, not everyone had Sean's voice. Orlando did as requested, took a long breath, let it out. He looked back at Viggo...back at Sean...damn, did they both have to be so ruggedly beautiful? It would make things so much easier if they weren't. "I'm just trying to figure out why Dommie and apparently Karl and Dave-- Dave, of all people, thank you very much -- get invited here to the Playgroup or to be a Playmate or what have you and you guys have never asked me. What, you don't fancy brunets?" Don't fancy...? Comprehension hit both Viggo and Sean simultaneously and they exchanged a smile. Neither one of them bothered to point out to him that Karl was a brunet. That would have taken all the fun out of things. "Now, why would you say that?" Viggo asked, his voice now teasing, his stance now relaxed. "Yes, love, why would you say that?" a soft voice said in Orlando's ear. A hard body pressed right up against his back, with a strong arm snug around his waist. He turned, startled, to stare into Sean's smiling green eyes. How had he snuck up on him like that? Orlando thought. He was the Elf here, sneaking was his job. Except, of course, he really wasn't an Elf. He merely played one. And Sean had obviously had a lot of years on him to practice the technique -- Orlando had never even seen him move. And Viggo never betrayed Sean by gesture or word. God, these two were good. Well, two...okay, three...could play at that game. Orlando ducked out of Sean's loose embrace with a smooth move that impressed even him. Right. No lithe body pressed up against him to distract him anymore, no seductive scent to tickle his nose, make him think of tropical sex on a deserted beach. Right...straight to business now, he had a point to make. "You've got however many people popping 'round, having a friendly shag or what have you, and I don't even get an invite to watch," Orlando pouted. "Bloody impolite, if you ask me." Orlando could tell by Viggo's shaking shoulders and pursed lips that he was trying not to laugh. Didn't know what was so funny. Orlando was completely serious. His feelings were hurt, dammit. Sean answered for both of them while smothering his own grin. "Orlando, love, we don't invite everyone." "Seems that way to me." Orlando ticked off the names on his fingers while rocking back on his heels. "Dommie. Karl. David. Who's next...Hugo? Harry? Billy?" "Hugo and Billy are straight," Sean replied genially. "Anyone with eyes can see that." Ouch, that stung. But, okay, Orlando had asked for it. "Harry might be agreeable," Viggo said, finally able to string a sentence together without wanting to chuckle at Orlando's obvious distress. Nothing quite like a beautiful boy in a full-on sulk. "And there's always Marton," Sean added, playing along. "I've heard rumors, might be worth checking out when he gets here for filming." "Oh, hadn't thought of him," Viggo said, snapping his fingers. "Good one, Sean." "And Ian," Sean continued. "I don't think we're ready for Ian, love." "Okay, okay, you've made your point, I'm not good enough, I'll go." Orlando made a move to leave and Sean pulled that stealth maneuver again and was right in front of him before he even took a second step. "Not so fast." Sean caught Orlando by the waist again, pulled him against that muscular chest. He looked down into Orlando's eyes...and Orlando saw only tenderness on that impossibly sexy face. "We have talked about you," Sean said. "More than once," Viggo agreed, coming up behind Orlando to wrap sinewy arms around his waist, spooning him. Damn, this was nice -- really nice. Chest to back to chest, sandwiched in between the two most insanely, intensely arousing men Orlando had ever met. Christ, no wonder Dommie wasn't completely straight anymore. "But we weren't sure if you'd be willing," Sean continued, moving his hands in slow strokes up and down Orlando's sides. Nice...very...okay, nice was such a tame word. More, he just wanted more. But, he had to get one thing straight, as it were, first. "Of course I'm willing, you wank," Orlando said. "I'm actually bisexual. You could have just bloody --" The rest of Orlando's tirade was cut off when Sean's mouth claimed his. Okay, this was more like it. This...fuck, yeah, Sean could kiss. Seemed to suck Orlando's soul out with only his mouth, his tongue moving in languid circles around Orlando's, his teeth scraping lips. Orlando was dimly aware that Viggo's hands were splayed across his ribs, moving up his chest, lips gently tasting his neck, the plane of his shoulders. But, his main focus was on Sean, on a kiss that slammed through his needy body with the force of a fucking sledgehammer and tore through him like a gale-force wind. God fucking damn. "You still willing?" Sean asked, lifting his head, tracing small kisses on Orlando's eyes, his cheeks, his chin. Still willing...was Sean insane? Orlando didn't even answer, just leaned back into Viggo's strong embrace, pulled Sean to him, slanted his mouth on Sean's and kissed him back, did his best to drive Sean as mad with want as he was. He must have succeeded somewhat, because Sean's breathing was ragged and rough the next time he lifted his head. He moved a hand from stroking Orlando's chest to cup Viggo's face, kissed Viggo while Orlando just lay limply between them, looking and wanting, needing and shaking. He needed to a part of that -- yes, good idea -- lifted up on his toes, joined in the kiss, ran his tongue around two sets of lips, and they turned to him, allowed him access, shared the kiss with him. Hot, God, Orlando was so hot. Too many clothes on him, too many clothes on all of them. Why weren't they naked, why couldn't he feel bare flesh under his hands? He tried to pull off both Viggo and Sean's shirts at once while still kissing them, pouted when he couldn't concentrate long enough to do it. Sean pulled back, shared a small wink with Viggo as they looked down at Orlando. "I think it's my turn to say I told you so," Viggo commented. "I am happily wrong," Sean replied, leaned back to kiss Orlando again. "Come on, Orlando, off with your shirt, love." Yes, yes, off with it all...who needed clothes? Naked, naked, ah yes, finally...Sean's shirt flew off, Orlando's was removed and he and Sean made quick work of Viggo's. Yes, this was better, this was great, this was...God, all that tanned, golden skin, all that muscle. Right there, waiting, begging to be touched and Orlando didn't know who to touch first. He finally bent his head to Sean's chest, circled a hard nipple with his tongue and used his hand to move back and stroke up and down Viggo's chest. Sean closed his hands on Orlando's head, murmured words of encouragement at the lovely ministrations, and kissed Viggo again, long and hard and deep. Orlando moved up to Sean's neck, took his time learning what made Sean shudder, made him moan, and rubbed his back, his ass, into Viggo's erection, felt the hardness through jeans. Why were they still wearing jeans? They should be naked...God, Sean tasted good, so fucking good. Sean started unbuttoning Orlando's jeans with deft fingers...thank God. He reached under boxers, teased Orlando's straining cock with a practiced touch, smoothed a hand over needy flesh. "Jesus," Orlando moaned, dropping his head on Sean's shoulder, nerves twitching in sensuous overload. "My turn, Sean," Viggo said, while pulling Orlando's jeans and boxers completely off his body. "You just had Karl," Sean told him, his fingers continuing to torture Orlando in the most delicious way possible. "You had Dave before that." Sean nodded. "Yes, but you had Dominic first. And he was my choice." "We've both had Dominic numerous times since then. And Karl. And Dave," Viggo reminded Sean. "I want Orlando first." "No...need..." God, it was hard to form words when Viggo's hand was kneading his ass and Sean was stroking his erection faster. "...to...fight...over me..." The last word ended on a groan as Sean hit a particularly sweet spot. Orlando barely hung on, so goddamn close that if either one of them breathed hard on him, he'd be gone. "We're not really fighting, love," Viggo said, bit softly into Orlando's shoulder. "We're just having a sharing issue. Sean gets greedy sometimes." "No harm with that," Sean replied, slowing his hand. Orlando whimpered. Sean just smiled. "Sean." The one word from Viggo was filled with both love and a warning. "Fine, but I'm fucking him first," Sean grumbled and withdrew his hand completely. "Orlando, would you mind turning around, please?" Move? They wanted him to...Viggo spun Orlando around, swept him into a kiss that made nuclear reactions seem cold. Good fuck...Orlando wrapped a leg around Viggo, tried to crawl inside him, crawl inside skin, inside this feeling, inside the fire of need currently consuming him. Sean pressed into his back, ran roughened hands over him, incinerated every nerve Viggo wasn't. Orlando reacted mindlessly, caught up in waves of desire that tossed and turned, built to a fever-pitch of carnal need. Viggo moved Orlando's leg off of him, wandered down Orlando's body, laving and licking over his sensitized skin. Sean kept busy with his neck, back and it was like drowning in a volcano. Viggo dropped to his knees, took Orlando in his mouth. Jesus, yes, Oh God, yes. Sean kept his arms around Orlando, holding him up, licked and sucked his neck, his ear, bent his head back to capture his lips while Viggo...goddamn. Orlando tangled his fingers in dark hair, guided Viggo, encouraged him to move faster, bucked, twitched, moaned into Sean's mouth, exploding, he was exploding into a thousand pieces and it was...God...fuck...God... If Sean hadn't been holding Orlando up, he'd have slumped to the floor in a liquid pool of sated rapture. Sean's kiss now soothed, now quieted. Orlando leaned back, hands still wrapped in Viggo's hair as Viggo kissed his way back up Orlando's stomach, chest, collarbone, finally joined Sean and Orlando in a sweet, slow kiss that calmed every bit as much as it inflamed. Orlando wanted to go another round, wanted more...in a minute. Once he found his brain again. "God damn," he managed to say, once Viggo and Sean lifted their heads. "Is that a critique?" Viggo asked, hands still roving over Orlando's body. "It's a...I don't know what it is actually. I seem to have lost my mind somewhere." "You don't want it back anytime soon, do you?" Sean asked, his throaty voice causing that slow ache to spread over Orlando's body again. Yes, yes, now, again… "No, no, I'm willing to live without it for awhile." Orlando was amazed he could even string a sentence together. He blindly reached behind him, started fumbling with the buttons of Sean's pajama bottoms. Sean smiled. "That's our boy." And then Viggo and Sean were dragging him to the floor. Oh yes, Orlando was perfectly willing to live without his brain until the end of time. Just as long as he never had to leave the Playground. Onto Clever
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