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fellowshippers2003-10-13 09:13 pm
leashy-bebes.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2003-10-13 09:13 pm
Pretty Picture.
Been lurking a long time. Very nervous. Don't be put off by the crap title. Hope it's not too terrible.
Title: Pretty Picture. (1/?)
LOTR RPS
Pairing: SB/OB
Rating: PG-13. I don't know. There's probably some swearing.
Summary: A night out for the fellowship. Orlando's drunk, Sean's a nice Yorkshire gent, everyone else is in on the joke.
Sean and Viggo distributed drinks among the fellowship in the quiet backroom of the bar they had rented out for the night. The room was filled with chatter and laughter. The hobbits were sitting together, Astin occasionally clucking disapprovingly as Billy or Dom egged Lijah on to drink some horrible concoction. Ian, John and Viggo were talking together about something Sean couldn't quite work out. At first he thought it was the film. Then maybe a play. Or possibly an art exhibit. Maybe even a piece of music? Head swimming slightly, Sean looked around for Orlando. He had been drifting all night between the hobbits and the older guys, getting steadily drunker. And now he wasn't here.
Sean frowned, counting the people in the room. Definitely only eight. That was strange, he reflected, taking a sip of his beer. Then the door burst open and Orlando was standing there, swaying slightly, picking the cellophane off of a packet of cigarettes.
"I'm back!" he announced.
"You were gone?" Billy asked, eyes wide. "Really?"
"That hurts," Orlando pouted, pressing a hand to his chest extravagantly. He quickly forgot his hurt and turned to Sean. "Got a light?" Sean threw his lighter to Orlando who caught it in a fumbling two handed motion, gripping it tight to stop it escaping before he could light his cigarette. He wandered over to sit next to Sean, handing the lighter back and stretching luxuriantly. A small grin crept over Orlando's face and he poked Sean in the ribs. "Blades lost again," he smirked.
"Ah, shut up," Sean scowled. Orlando burst into peals of laughter, causing everyone to look up.
"You're so fucking northern!" he howled, shaking with mirth.
"You're a prick, Mr Bloom," Sean said affectionately, aware that his accent was thickened by the alcohol.
"I am," Orlando confessed. "And now, oh supporter of shitty teams, I am going to talk to some hobbits. Farewell." He stood, bowed extravagantly and tripped over his own feet. Sean started to laugh but was cut off by receiving a lapful of drunken, giggling elf.
"Get off me, you great silly bastard," he muttered, poking Orlando experimentally. Orlando looked around, blinking and spied his cigarette in a puddle of beer.
"Shit," he said tonelessly. "Ah well," he sighed, shifting around a little and resting his head on Sean's shoulder.
"Orli. Go on, piss off," Sean said, blushing. Like it wasn't enough that this kid had entranced him from the word go, now he was squirming around in Sean's lap. Not good.
"Nope," Orlando murmured. "Think I'll stay here. You're comfortable. Smell good. Feel good." With that, he fell silent, his breath ghosting over Sean's neck.
"Orli? Orli, you are joking, right mate? You're not really asleep are you? Are you?" Sean craned his neck, trying to look at the younger man. A smudge of dark eyelashes against his cheek was all he could make out. "Shit," he sighed, reaching for Orlando's packet of cigarettes and lighting one.
Viggo chose that moment to look up. He suppressed a smirk as best he could at the sight of Orlando sprawled in Sean's lap, Sean looking as uncomfortable as he'd ever seen him, smoking a cigarette with a slight frown on his face. Oh, he could read these two like a book, Viggo thought happily to himself. He couldn't help himself.
"Say, there's not something you two have been keeping from us, is there, Sean?" With his free hand, Sean flicked his middle finger towards Viggo. Of course, he'd forgotten one important fact. Viggo's voice drew the attention of the fellowship just as effectively as Aragorn's. Sean became aware of seven pairs of eyes trained on him and Orlando. Of course, it was just about the funniest thing the hobbits had ever seen. They stared and laughed for a moment and then Dom, Lijah and Billy leant forward, muttering to one another. Oh God, Sean thought despairingly. Hobbit plot. Even Astin was grinning. John was chuckling to himself and Viggo and Ian were looking at one another significantly.
Sean leaned forward to ask them what the hell that look was all about and as he moved, his legs straightened slightly, causing Orlando to start sliding towards the floor.
"Shit!" Sean couldn't stop the instinct of his arms as they shot forward and grasped Orlando firmly around the waist, just above his hips and resettling him more stably on his lap. "Now what the hell was that all..."
Suddenly, he had a perfect mental image of the scene. Himself, cigarette in the corner of his mouth, arms tight around the waist of what was arguably the most beautiful young man he'd ever seen. The young man in question hopelessly drunk, fast asleep, his head on Sean's shoulder, the buzzed sides of his head scratching Sean's neck. "Oh forget it," he sighed, letting one hand fall from Orlando's waist to crush out his cigarette and pick up his beer, trying to join in John, Ian and Viggo's conversation while ignoring Orlando's weight in his lap.
Time passed, surreal and normal at the same time. Sean was managing to carry on a fairly sensible conversation and also keeping this delectable creature in his lap from falling flat on his arse. Across the room, Elijah stood suddenly.
"I'm gonna go across the road and get some smokes," he said, slipping his wallet into his back pocket. "Anyone want anything from the shop?"
"Why don't you have Orli's fags?" Sean asked. Elijah sniggered and Sean closed his eyes. "Cigarettes. His cigarettes, Elijah. Sorry, I thought everyone here was over five years old."
"Whatever gave you that idea?" Ian asked dryly.
"Nah, I wouldn't like to steal. He'll want them something chronic when he wakes up. Besides, they're a shitty brand," Elijah pointed out, heading for the door. "Anyone want anything?"
"Bring me sweets!" Dom called after him.
"Don't!" Billy begged. "For the love of God, don't bring him sweets."
"You're no fun, Bill," Dom groused.
"I am fun. Lots of fun."
Leaving the hobbits to their bickering, Sean turned back to the others. As the door slammed shut behind Elijah, Orlando stirred slightly. Sean held his breath, hoping that the younger man would wake up and go somewhere else. Anywhere as long as it wasn't Sean's lap. No such luck. Orlando shifted around a little, his head slipping down and nuzzling Sean's chest through his shirt. Sean froze, his eyes wide. Orlando gave a breathy little moan and fell still again, one hand wrapped around the back of Sean's neck. Sean closed his eyes, breathing in unsteadily. The whole room had fallen silent at Orlando's moan and there was a whisper of "what is he doing to the poor boy?" from the hobbit side of the room in a thick Scottish accent.
"Shouldn't we wake him up or something?" Sean asked, looking desperately at Ian. "I mean, he can't be very comfortable here..." he chose to ignore Dom's comment of 'he certainly looks it'.
"Oh no," Viggo urged. "Bad idea. Bad, bad, bad idea. One time, when you went home to see the girls, a few of got together in Lij's apartment and Orli passed out. I woke him up because his snoring was getting too much. I had a black eye for a week. And I don't think Pete would be too impressed if your death scene was marred by a nice big shiner."
Sean sighed. Great. The hand on the back of his neck tightened slightly and then tightened a lot, fingers grasping at his hair.
"You awake?" Sean asked hopefully. No reply. Orlando sighed in his sleep, mumbling a little to himself and wriggling, trying to get comfortable, leaving Sean feeling anything but. "Oh, you bastard," Sean hissed. "Sit still."
The door opened and Lijah stepped inside, closing it softly behind him.
"How's sleeping beauty?" he asked.
"Going to land right on his bony arse in a minute," Sean growled.
"Shame," Lijah said. "You make...such a pretty picture." There was a snort of laughter from the hobbits and before Sean could react, Lijah brought his hand up from his side. Clutched in it was a disposable camera. From the shop across the road.
"You git," Sean groaned, starting to rise. Orlando's hand on his neck tightened even more, nails biting into the skin. "Ow, fuck!" Sean wailed, sitting back down again. Elijah snapped photo after photo, laughing too hard to aim the camera, several flashes probably capturing nothing but the ceiling or the wall to Sean's right. Rolling his eyes, Viggo plucked the camera from Elijah's hand. "Cheers mate," Sean started to say, trailing off as he watched Viggo set up a proper photo. Well, there was no doubting that one would come out perfectly.
One of the flashes seemed especially bright and Sean winced against it.
"When I can see, you're all fucking dead," he vowed.
"What the hell is going on? Where did that light come from? Who's shouting? Where the fuck am I? This chair is really...oh." Orlando woke annoyed, yelling out questions. He had been about to bitch about the chair he was sitting on when he felt soft hair under his fingertips, a solid chest against his side. "Erm. Hi, Sean," he said in a tiny voice. Sean said nothing, trying not to think of being the first thing Orlando saw every time he woke up.
"You...erm. You fell on me," Sean said.
"Oops," Orlando giggled. "Where is that fucking light coming from?!" he demanded, looking around, his eyes resting on Viggo who hid the camera behind his back lightening fast. "I don't trust you," Orlando said softly, glaring at Viggo.
"Respect your elders and betters, boy," Viggo said with a grin, sitting down again.
"Huh," Orlando grunted.
"Hey," Sean said, poking him in the ribs. "Any chance of you buggering off? My legs have gone dead. You have a really bony arse."
"Oh!" Orlando said, blushing a little and staggering to his feet. "Sure! I mean...erm. Sorry about that. I was just kind of tired."
"Tired. Orlando, you passed out," Astin pointed out.
"I did not pass out," Orlando said, mustering all the elven haughtiness he could find. "I fell asleep."
TBC.
Title: Pretty Picture. (1/?)
LOTR RPS
Pairing: SB/OB
Rating: PG-13. I don't know. There's probably some swearing.
Summary: A night out for the fellowship. Orlando's drunk, Sean's a nice Yorkshire gent, everyone else is in on the joke.
Sean and Viggo distributed drinks among the fellowship in the quiet backroom of the bar they had rented out for the night. The room was filled with chatter and laughter. The hobbits were sitting together, Astin occasionally clucking disapprovingly as Billy or Dom egged Lijah on to drink some horrible concoction. Ian, John and Viggo were talking together about something Sean couldn't quite work out. At first he thought it was the film. Then maybe a play. Or possibly an art exhibit. Maybe even a piece of music? Head swimming slightly, Sean looked around for Orlando. He had been drifting all night between the hobbits and the older guys, getting steadily drunker. And now he wasn't here.
Sean frowned, counting the people in the room. Definitely only eight. That was strange, he reflected, taking a sip of his beer. Then the door burst open and Orlando was standing there, swaying slightly, picking the cellophane off of a packet of cigarettes.
"I'm back!" he announced.
"You were gone?" Billy asked, eyes wide. "Really?"
"That hurts," Orlando pouted, pressing a hand to his chest extravagantly. He quickly forgot his hurt and turned to Sean. "Got a light?" Sean threw his lighter to Orlando who caught it in a fumbling two handed motion, gripping it tight to stop it escaping before he could light his cigarette. He wandered over to sit next to Sean, handing the lighter back and stretching luxuriantly. A small grin crept over Orlando's face and he poked Sean in the ribs. "Blades lost again," he smirked.
"Ah, shut up," Sean scowled. Orlando burst into peals of laughter, causing everyone to look up.
"You're so fucking northern!" he howled, shaking with mirth.
"You're a prick, Mr Bloom," Sean said affectionately, aware that his accent was thickened by the alcohol.
"I am," Orlando confessed. "And now, oh supporter of shitty teams, I am going to talk to some hobbits. Farewell." He stood, bowed extravagantly and tripped over his own feet. Sean started to laugh but was cut off by receiving a lapful of drunken, giggling elf.
"Get off me, you great silly bastard," he muttered, poking Orlando experimentally. Orlando looked around, blinking and spied his cigarette in a puddle of beer.
"Shit," he said tonelessly. "Ah well," he sighed, shifting around a little and resting his head on Sean's shoulder.
"Orli. Go on, piss off," Sean said, blushing. Like it wasn't enough that this kid had entranced him from the word go, now he was squirming around in Sean's lap. Not good.
"Nope," Orlando murmured. "Think I'll stay here. You're comfortable. Smell good. Feel good." With that, he fell silent, his breath ghosting over Sean's neck.
"Orli? Orli, you are joking, right mate? You're not really asleep are you? Are you?" Sean craned his neck, trying to look at the younger man. A smudge of dark eyelashes against his cheek was all he could make out. "Shit," he sighed, reaching for Orlando's packet of cigarettes and lighting one.
Viggo chose that moment to look up. He suppressed a smirk as best he could at the sight of Orlando sprawled in Sean's lap, Sean looking as uncomfortable as he'd ever seen him, smoking a cigarette with a slight frown on his face. Oh, he could read these two like a book, Viggo thought happily to himself. He couldn't help himself.
"Say, there's not something you two have been keeping from us, is there, Sean?" With his free hand, Sean flicked his middle finger towards Viggo. Of course, he'd forgotten one important fact. Viggo's voice drew the attention of the fellowship just as effectively as Aragorn's. Sean became aware of seven pairs of eyes trained on him and Orlando. Of course, it was just about the funniest thing the hobbits had ever seen. They stared and laughed for a moment and then Dom, Lijah and Billy leant forward, muttering to one another. Oh God, Sean thought despairingly. Hobbit plot. Even Astin was grinning. John was chuckling to himself and Viggo and Ian were looking at one another significantly.
Sean leaned forward to ask them what the hell that look was all about and as he moved, his legs straightened slightly, causing Orlando to start sliding towards the floor.
"Shit!" Sean couldn't stop the instinct of his arms as they shot forward and grasped Orlando firmly around the waist, just above his hips and resettling him more stably on his lap. "Now what the hell was that all..."
Suddenly, he had a perfect mental image of the scene. Himself, cigarette in the corner of his mouth, arms tight around the waist of what was arguably the most beautiful young man he'd ever seen. The young man in question hopelessly drunk, fast asleep, his head on Sean's shoulder, the buzzed sides of his head scratching Sean's neck. "Oh forget it," he sighed, letting one hand fall from Orlando's waist to crush out his cigarette and pick up his beer, trying to join in John, Ian and Viggo's conversation while ignoring Orlando's weight in his lap.
Time passed, surreal and normal at the same time. Sean was managing to carry on a fairly sensible conversation and also keeping this delectable creature in his lap from falling flat on his arse. Across the room, Elijah stood suddenly.
"I'm gonna go across the road and get some smokes," he said, slipping his wallet into his back pocket. "Anyone want anything from the shop?"
"Why don't you have Orli's fags?" Sean asked. Elijah sniggered and Sean closed his eyes. "Cigarettes. His cigarettes, Elijah. Sorry, I thought everyone here was over five years old."
"Whatever gave you that idea?" Ian asked dryly.
"Nah, I wouldn't like to steal. He'll want them something chronic when he wakes up. Besides, they're a shitty brand," Elijah pointed out, heading for the door. "Anyone want anything?"
"Bring me sweets!" Dom called after him.
"Don't!" Billy begged. "For the love of God, don't bring him sweets."
"You're no fun, Bill," Dom groused.
"I am fun. Lots of fun."
Leaving the hobbits to their bickering, Sean turned back to the others. As the door slammed shut behind Elijah, Orlando stirred slightly. Sean held his breath, hoping that the younger man would wake up and go somewhere else. Anywhere as long as it wasn't Sean's lap. No such luck. Orlando shifted around a little, his head slipping down and nuzzling Sean's chest through his shirt. Sean froze, his eyes wide. Orlando gave a breathy little moan and fell still again, one hand wrapped around the back of Sean's neck. Sean closed his eyes, breathing in unsteadily. The whole room had fallen silent at Orlando's moan and there was a whisper of "what is he doing to the poor boy?" from the hobbit side of the room in a thick Scottish accent.
"Shouldn't we wake him up or something?" Sean asked, looking desperately at Ian. "I mean, he can't be very comfortable here..." he chose to ignore Dom's comment of 'he certainly looks it'.
"Oh no," Viggo urged. "Bad idea. Bad, bad, bad idea. One time, when you went home to see the girls, a few of got together in Lij's apartment and Orli passed out. I woke him up because his snoring was getting too much. I had a black eye for a week. And I don't think Pete would be too impressed if your death scene was marred by a nice big shiner."
Sean sighed. Great. The hand on the back of his neck tightened slightly and then tightened a lot, fingers grasping at his hair.
"You awake?" Sean asked hopefully. No reply. Orlando sighed in his sleep, mumbling a little to himself and wriggling, trying to get comfortable, leaving Sean feeling anything but. "Oh, you bastard," Sean hissed. "Sit still."
The door opened and Lijah stepped inside, closing it softly behind him.
"How's sleeping beauty?" he asked.
"Going to land right on his bony arse in a minute," Sean growled.
"Shame," Lijah said. "You make...such a pretty picture." There was a snort of laughter from the hobbits and before Sean could react, Lijah brought his hand up from his side. Clutched in it was a disposable camera. From the shop across the road.
"You git," Sean groaned, starting to rise. Orlando's hand on his neck tightened even more, nails biting into the skin. "Ow, fuck!" Sean wailed, sitting back down again. Elijah snapped photo after photo, laughing too hard to aim the camera, several flashes probably capturing nothing but the ceiling or the wall to Sean's right. Rolling his eyes, Viggo plucked the camera from Elijah's hand. "Cheers mate," Sean started to say, trailing off as he watched Viggo set up a proper photo. Well, there was no doubting that one would come out perfectly.
One of the flashes seemed especially bright and Sean winced against it.
"When I can see, you're all fucking dead," he vowed.
"What the hell is going on? Where did that light come from? Who's shouting? Where the fuck am I? This chair is really...oh." Orlando woke annoyed, yelling out questions. He had been about to bitch about the chair he was sitting on when he felt soft hair under his fingertips, a solid chest against his side. "Erm. Hi, Sean," he said in a tiny voice. Sean said nothing, trying not to think of being the first thing Orlando saw every time he woke up.
"You...erm. You fell on me," Sean said.
"Oops," Orlando giggled. "Where is that fucking light coming from?!" he demanded, looking around, his eyes resting on Viggo who hid the camera behind his back lightening fast. "I don't trust you," Orlando said softly, glaring at Viggo.
"Respect your elders and betters, boy," Viggo said with a grin, sitting down again.
"Huh," Orlando grunted.
"Hey," Sean said, poking him in the ribs. "Any chance of you buggering off? My legs have gone dead. You have a really bony arse."
"Oh!" Orlando said, blushing a little and staggering to his feet. "Sure! I mean...erm. Sorry about that. I was just kind of tired."
"Tired. Orlando, you passed out," Astin pointed out.
"I did not pass out," Orlando said, mustering all the elven haughtiness he could find. "I fell asleep."
TBC.
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Absolutely no need to be nervous - this is wonderful! It kept a smile on my face the whole way through, and I loved it. I feel very sorry in an amused kind of way for Sean - such a gentleman...
Thanks for sharing! Zoe
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Lyds
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I love Viggo hiding the camera behind his back, too. That just got me. Dunno why.
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xx
Lyds
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hahahaha....
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MWAH!
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MWAH!
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The hand on the back of his neck tightened slightly and then tightened a lot, fingers grasping at his hair.
"You awake?" Sean asked hopefully. No reply. Orlando sighed in his sleep, mumbling a little to himself and wriggling, trying to get comfortable, leaving Sean feeling anything but. "Oh, you bastard," Sean hissed. "Sit still."
Eeee! I just love it. Thank you for sharing this!
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Much love,
Lyds
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Like it, like it
This esp. LOL: "Why don't you have Orli's fags?" Sean asked. Elijah sniggered and Sean closed his eyes. "Cigarettes. His cigarettes, Elijah. Sorry, I thought everyone here was over five years old."
"Whatever gave you that idea?" Ian asked dryly.
Sarkka