Title: The Alignment of the Planets
Summary: Karl has being feeling pretty freakin' conflicted lately and now seems like just the right time to get a few things straight.
I don't recall whether it was my third take or my thirtieth but it was undoubtedly my worst one because I caught sight of Viggo out of the corner of my eye and that was the end of that. He'd wandered off somewhere after he'd wrapped and I'd missed the chance to send him off. Somebody had said that he'd already headed back to LA but other people said he was off camping and fishing on the South Island. Now it was my turn to wrap and while I had missed Viggo, I'd never thought that I'd see him again until we all came together at the premieres. My pragmatic Kiwi nature had been sure that that would have been plenty of time to shake out these disquieting feelings he generated in me.
Yet there he was. And frankly, it startled the shit out of me. I flubbed my line because I was looking straight at him. The bastard was as much of a mongrel as ever and yet l I felt my heart start racing in some discordant pattern that made me a ridiculously short of breath. It still didn't make sense to me…this feeling I got when he was around. I mean, I knew the feeling without a doubt. I'd just never felt it for someone with a cock swinging between their legs.
God knows he's got charisma in spades. Anybody who could stand there looking like that - scruffy and shaggy and wearing a coat that would have made a better horse blanket - and still have me and everyone else smiling at the sight of him had a magnetism that was rare. But the biggest surprise of my life was that my cock reacted like a fucking metal bar in response to that magnet. I could feel major embarrassment looming as my eyes worked a path down his body and I pulled Eomer's leather jerkin closed across my groin.
I know he noticed that none too subtle maneuver. There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he headed my way. I yanked my thoughts back to Eomer - fell back into his dirty, worn exhaustion - and finished the scene. There was the normal flutter of a hundred sounds at once as Pete gave an approving nod and in amongst the cavalcade of people coming in to undo this or touch up that, someone pressed an open beer into my hand. I tipped it up without thinking and when I lowered it, Viggo was standing right alongside, grinning as he clicked his own bottle against mine and whispered a hearty "Cheers and congrats!". He upended his beer, finishing it in two swallows. I laughed and followed suit, drinking to my last scene as Eomer and whatever was around the corner.
The Hobbits descended - as the Hobbits generally did - and we were swept up in plans to meet at Ian's for proper drinks. Orlando and Elijah insisted on tormenting Viggo about his ragged appearance and pulled him off in one direction while the Wardrobe team dragged me off in another. I caught a glimpse of Orlando throwing an arm around Viggo as he led him toward the car park and I felt a surge of pure envy.
Everyone was pretty far into their cups by the time I arrived. There was music playing - discordant and deafening - and there was a loud fuss in the kitchen about some tragedy of epic proportions involving a fresh keg and a broken spout. Ian was sitting back in a deep red chair and looked for all the world like a gentle king watching his jesters bound about. He waved me over as soon as he caught sight of me and I grabbed a beer and made my way to him, pulling a footstool over to sit alongside his chair. General mayhem surrounded us and it was a little hard to hear but he asked how I felt about wrapping my scenes. I felt a melancholy I hadn't expected. All of this - the spontaneous parties, the to and fro over our characters and the words we spoke, the long talks and long silences that had become equally comfortable - would be gone. The dusty, tired, yet unflagging earnestness of the cast and crew would be left behind and I couldn't imagine the planets aligning like this again. This had been all but a quest. Something magical and important and lasting and I felt a sense of pride and protectiveness. Ian listened and never interrupted although he nodded often and smiled as I grew more passionate in my words. I was barely one beer in and I felt almost drunk with how ferocious my feelings were.
"You're right, you know. I've been around a long, long time, Karl, and I've never experienced what we all have here. This has been extraordinary." Ian underscored my thoughts and feelings in his soft, soothing voice. I finished my beer, nodding at his words, and then looking up to speak, I saw that his gaze wasn't on me but was focused far across the room. I lingered on Ian's profile for a brief moment, recording it and tying it to his words deep in my heart and then I glanced to see what had caught his attention. It was Viggo. He leaned against one wall, still as a statue, and watched the crowd part as Billy and Dom tumbled out of the kitchen with shouts of victory at having conquered the keg and freeing the beer for the good of their fellow partygoers. He smiled and then laughed. I felt a surge of want heretofore reserved exclusively for the female of the species. I groaned inwardly. As Viggo took a drink from his glass, his gaze wandered. He nodded at Ian and then stopped as his eyes met mine. His expression changed - eyes intent and lips curved as though there were words to be spoken.
I murmured agreement at Ian's comment, finally looking down at my bottle. I stood, tilting the empty in his direction. "I need another. Can I bring you anything?"
Ian smiled up at me and his gaze was steady. "You'll never see the likes of this - or of him - again, will you?"
The words seemed so strange - I'd never been seen in this way before - by someone who knew I felt something for another man and understood it. Believed it perfectly normal and as right as anything else. I stuttered a bit as I replied.
"No…no, I truly won't. I think…" I stopped with the realization that I wasn't at all sure what I truly thought. Not about Viggo.
"Talk to him," Ian nudged. "Tell him goodbye…or perhaps tell him this isn't the end at all."
I vacillated for an uncomfortable moment but finally nodded in agreement. "I need to talk to him," I murmured and looking across the room and finding Viggo still watching me, I smiled and went toward him. He tilted his head toward the back door that led to the deck and beyond that, the shoreline. He slipped outside and I followed.
He had his back to me and my eyes again roamed the length of his body, lingering on his ass. I've always been an ass man…but again, the ass wasn't usually associated in any way with a cock. Yet still it was so easy to be near him, even knowing that things were changing. The confusion and frustration that had become intertwined with seeing him was fading away. Things felt warm and steady and slow-moving. Viggo turned to face me, leaning on the railing and watching me, and I felt like I was seeing him in full for the first time. The shadows cast by the waning moon emphasized his cheekbones and the line of his nose but obscured his eyes. I couldn't read them clearly at all, yet the gentle tilt of his head was a clear opening for whatever was to follow. As gently as moving in a dream, the simple and profound clarity of my feelings flowed through me. I stepped closer. He still held his glass in one hand and I took it from him and set it aside. I could see his eyes now and they were clear and open and I felt that there was every invitation in the world in them. This moment would be whatever I chose for it to be.
I murmured his name and a ghost of a smile played across his mouth. I couldn't take my gaze away from that - the hint of humor and welcome and the fullness of his bottom lip. My hand slid into his and it felt warm and right. I moved closer still and touched my forehead to his. He whispered my name and I tilted my head to brush my mouth against his, lingering and feeling him press his lips more firmly against mine. He slid a hand around the nape of my neck and pulled me tight for a long, deep kiss that made my pulse race. I could smell his sweat and his soap…traces of the whiskey he'd been drinking …and I wanted to taste those scents…keep kissing him and lick his throat, mark his skin. Beyond us I could hear the ocean. The waves were steady and even and counter to everything I felt. I grabbed him forcefully and he reacted almost angrily - dominant at once - and I felt my own temper rise. He shoved me hard and I crashed into the wall of the house and before I could decide if I should push back, he kissed me and he bit and I tasted my blood or his and I gave in to him completely. He had full rights and his hands slid across my shirt slowly, gently, teasing at my nipples before he slid lower and nipped at them, sucking them through the thin fabric. I groaned and thrust against him, my hands on his shoulders, pushing him down, pulling him to me. He was on his knees, looking up once, blue eyes dark and sultry, and then tilted his head to run his teeth the length of my cock. A jolt rocketed through me and my hands were in his hair and I was even more insistent, keeping him there, praying for him not to stop. When I thrust too hard, he growled and I felt it against my skin even through my jeans at the same instant I heard it.
He stood and looked into my eyes again, his arms against the wall on either side of my head. His expression was a mixture of fierceness and uncertainty that hadn't been there before.
"Don't," he rasped. "Don't…don't…this can't be a game…"
I was struck dumb, not entirely sure what he was saying.
"You have to want this. You have to want me…just me…" Viggo didn't kiss me. His eyes were steady on mine and, as his breaths slowed from ragged to steady, the fear and anger faded. "This…you…it's all too important." He pulled back and steadied himself, finally tilting his head back and looking up at the stars. I had to strain to hear his words. "I want you, Karl. I've wanted you since I met you. But this…this is all new to you. I'd be your first. Right? You've never--"
I shook my head and I know my eyes showed some measure of fear but I knew just as well that they showed no indecision. I wanted whatever was to come. I wanted to kiss him again…run my hands down the curves of muscle in his biceps and forearms until they came to rest at his waist. I missed already the smell of his sweat and the taste of whisky on his tongue.
Viggo held me captive in his gaze, studying me as though looking for some proof that he needed. He started to speak and I cut him off. This time it was me pushing him back and pinning him against the railing. My thoughts were clear and my words as sure as any I'd ever spoken. They came out harshly at first as I sought to overpower his doubts.
"Don't fuck with me, you bastard," I started. Viggo's eyes narrowed. "I came here. I came after you. Don't forget that." I stared him down and he looked away but I took his chin in my palm and turned him back to face me. "If all I wanted was to see what it was like, I'm sure Ian would have given me a go. Or Craig. Hell, there's a fucking long list I could have tried to work through around here! I've never been around so many gay men in my life!"
Viggo's eyes widened and he laughed in surprise. I was shaking my head in disbelief and bewilderment. "Is there some special signal I'm supposed to give that will make you know I want to be here - doing this - only because it's you?" My voice was soft; my heartbeat was louder in my ears.
I was stunned when Viggo pushed me away again but then he grinned and quickly rearranged his position against the railing to spread his legs and yank me back between them. His hands moved to where it seemed like they must have always belonged, one across the breadth of my back, the other lower and slipping under the edge of my jeans. His voice was gentler than his movements and he whispered my name against my mouth as he kissed me softly, then with more urgency.
I cupped his cheek in my hand and steadied him, looking into his eyes. "I don't know how this…" I kissed him gently. "…happened…or what it means exactly…but I want you so much. I want to...be with you…just you..."
"I don't understand it either," Viggo murmured against my ear, "but I sure as hell like it. I--"
A loud crash and then screams of laughter burst from the house and the moment changed. We stood stock still for a moment, shaken out of a place that had seemed to hold no one but the two of us. Viggo's sudden grin was broad and mischievous and I felt a stab of want so fierce I caught my breath. "Hang on," he said. "Don't go anywhere."
With a bold push against his body, my groin to his, I made clear that I had no immediate intention of going anywhere that didn't include him. He pulled me close for another hard kiss and his hand slid down my back and ever so slowly around my ass before cupping my cock and squeezing gently. He smiled at my groan and then, with another admonishment not to leave, he slipped back into the house. I watched the shadows beyond the door, leaping and swirling and chaotic, and realized how at odds that was with the calm and clarity I finally felt. In no more than a minute, Viggo was back, silently closing the door behind him and holding up a bottle of brandy. His grin was contagious.
"Mad bugger," I laughed, quickly quieting as he shushed me and pointed back at the house with a jerk of his thumb.
"They're all crazy in there and wondering where the hell you are. They think I'm going off to write drunken poetry all by myself. I think they felt quite sorry for me." He laughed. "Well, not Ian anyway." He laughed louder. "He may actually be feeling sorry for himself instead!" His wink made me smile broadly.
"So he's pretty clear on what you're up to then."
"Yeah. Without a doubt." Viggo replied with a laugh. "He knows exactly where I'm going. Where you're going for that matter."
"I think the bastard knew where I was going to be going even before I knew!"
Viggo kissed me and then tilted my head back with a finger under my chin, biting gently against my throat and whispering words I couldn't make out. He worked his way up to my ear, scraping his stubble against it in a way that made me moan and then he whispered gently to me.
"There's a whole stretch of beach between here and my place, Karl. Beautiful night for a walk and plenty of time to decide what to do once we get there." I nodded without any hesitation but I felt a surge of apprehension. He knew it and teased me. "I've got a long list of things I'd like to try, you know…" He laughed and his breath stirred my hair and sent goose bumps the length of my spine.
I took a deep breath and then leaned back and met his gaze. I tilted my chin up. "Maybe I'm thinking up a list of my own, Viggo. Think the Ranger can take orders from a mere man of Rohan for a few hours?"
Viggo looked at me appraisingly and then nodded slowly with a wicked smirk. "Just a few hours, huh? Men of Rohan truly are no match for one of the Dúnedain ."
I tugged him tight against me and bit hard at his earlobe. He flinched and scowled at me. "Look here," I said slowly. "I don't often invite 87 year olds - or men for that matter - to fuck me, so take it or leave it."
I tripped over my own feet and down the shallow steps as Viggo grabbed me by my belt and pulled me along behind him. We were ankle deep in sand and getting close to the water before he spoke again. I could just catch his words as he spoke over his shoulder. "Okay, so the first thing on the list--"
"Vig!" I stopped. "That's your big seduction routine? That?"
He grinned at me and his eyes moved slowly down every inch of my body and then back up again. His gaze met mine and he slowly licked his bottom lip, his tongue lingering at the corner of his mouth. "It can be difficult for an 87 year old to get back up off his knees so be prepared to offer a hand…so to speak…" My laughter died away quickly as Viggo dropped to his knees in the damp sand and made quick work of the buttons on my jeans. I heard something about "This was really number four on the list" before I gave in to the sensation of his mouth on my cock and his hands pushing inside my clothes and then nothing else mattered. Not even the list.