Red Hot Gorgeous 4/?
Title: Red Hot Gorgeous 4/?
Author: jeyhawk
Series: Yes!
Rating: NC17
Pairing: VM/OB
Summary: Viggo is a famous actor and Orlando is a reporter. Between the two of them sparks are flying, but can they make it more than just a fling.
Disclaimer: Viggo is an actor and Orlando is too. In this story Orlando is a reporter. What does that tell us? It’s liiiiiies.
Feedback: Pretty please.
Archive: List archive, jeyhawk_fic
Beta: mesnica, with a side-dish of bwitched83uk.
Dedication: To everyone that read and commented on Blinded. Thank you!
Thanks to: mesnica and bwitched83uk for your endless nagging. Without you girls, I would never get anything done.
Warnings: AU, some kink (nothing too heavy).
Notes: Another porny series for my devoted porn fans. :0) I promise lurve and lots of kisses for this one. :0)
Note2: A rather short chapter, but I wanted to get the story going. The only porn you owe to mesnica if it hadn’t been for her it would have been pornless. :0)
Banner made by mesnica
Chapter 4
Orlando was in a foul mood, as he'd been the last two weeks give or take a few days. It had been three weeks since he fucked up his interview with Viggo and was rewarded with lots of steaming hot fucking. Not that the fact that he'd gotten laid had appeased his editor much, well it might have if he'd been able to tell her the true story, but Viggo being who he was had made Orlando keeping it quiet. He'd only told Jared who had squeed in Orlando's ear for a full five minutes before he managed coherency and asked for details. Still, that had been three weeks ago and Orlando's insanely good mood and optimistic view of the whole thing had only lasted for a week. Now he was quite convinced Viggo would never call him and that the only way Orlando would ever see him again was if he took to celebrity stalking, and that would be a new all time low even for him.
Orlando biked to work, as usual grumbling under his breath about any and every obstacle that he considered to be in his way. He carried the bike with him upstairs to the little storage room next to the cupboard he called his office since leaving it outside was a good way to get it stolen and he'd already made that particular mistake twice this week. As he put his bike away he wondered what was largest the storage: room or his office. To him it seemed like his bike might have more space than he had, even though his office looked much nicer and had a window. He was just about to enter his office and find out what kind of crap had wound up on his desk since he left it the day before, when his editor stuck her head out from his big nice corner office.
"Orlando, you lying little scoundrel. You better get your tight little ass here right away," she yelled at him in her no-nonsense voice.
"Coming, Cate," he answered and hurried along the corridor past her smirking secretary Elijah and into her spacey office.
She was sitting in her chair, leafing through some papers on her desk, looking for all the world like she hadn't just yelled at him and called him names. He wondered what was up with the act and took a seat in one of her imposing guest chairs. Cate was a beautiful woman in her early thirties and most days she and Orlando got along just fine. This didn't seem to be one of those days though and he wondered what he'd done this time.
"Is there something you didn't tell me about your little interview with Mr Mortensen?" she asked, still looking at her papers.
"No," Orlando said quickly and swallowed. He'd always been a terrible liar and preferred to lie by omission.
He felt himself growing cold as he waited for her to continue. Had someone gotten pictures of them, or had someone leaked to the press? What if he'd ruined Viggo's career? The only person he'd told though was Jared and Jared would never betray him like that, but what if Jared had told Colin? No fuck that, of course Jared had told Colin, and Colin, the smarmy Irish bastard, could have told anyone. Except, Orlando doubted he would do that to Jared.
"This arrived this morning," Cate said waving a paper in the air. "It tells a different story than the one you told me. The one about your fucked-up interview."
Orlando looked at the paper with trepidation. As far as he could tell the note on it was hand written; that didn't bade well for him.
"What is it?" he asked.
Cate finally looked at him and smiled. "I won't tell you unless you tell me what really happened at that interview."
"I can't," he said trying to plead with her. "Please, Cate, don't be such a bitch."
"Bitch?" she asked rising her eyebrows. "Is that something you call your boss?"
"When she's acting like one… Cate, you know I love you, but you have a sick sense of humour and I'm not in the mood for this."
"Awww. What crawled up your ass and died lately? You didn't used to be this easy to piss off."
"I met this guy, okay? And I really liked him and we had some amazing sex but he never called. So I really don't feel like sitting here and taking crap from you. I got a column to write and some articles to finish… If you even want me to contribute to this bloody magazine." Orlando got up from his uncomfortable chair and started walking towards the door. Until now he hadn't even admitted to himself how much it had affected him that Viggo hadn't called, and now that he had he felt even worse than before. It would serve Viggo right if their little one-night-stand ruined his career. He could have called.
"Orli? I'm sorry," Cate said. "Come back here."
He turned back to her, but made no move to regain his seat; the scary looking designer chair was uncomfortable anyway.
"I'm sorry the guy didn't call. I know what that feels like. I didn't call you here to yell at you anyway, but rather to kiss your feet and worship you. What I have here is a once in a lifetime opportunity and you are the only one of my reporters that could have pulled it off. Sit down again and I'll show it to you."
Orlando sat down but he wore a face that made it obvious he didn't want to.
"So what is it that tied your panties into a knot?" he asked sourly.
"This here," she said, placing it on the desk and running her hand over it, "is an invitation to spend one week at Viggo Mortensen's ranch with the man himself. Just the two of you for ONE bloody WEEK. Do you have any idea what this is worth? We'll double our sale, no scratch that, we'll triple it. The man hasn't given an in-depth interview for three years and he's the hottest shit there is right now."
Orlando blinked, trying to understand what she was telling him. He would get to see Viggo again, for one week, exclusively. Just the two of them, for one week, on his ranch. Where was his ranch again?
"You'll be flying to Idaho tonight. Bring your camera and take lots of pictures. Here is a list of things you should take with you, and here is your ticket."
Orlando's head snapped up. "A list?"
"I just said that, didn't I? Try to keep up. You can buy anything you need on the mag's expense account, but if you blow this… I'll make you pay back every cent through the nose AND I'll fire your sorry ass."
Orlando just smiled, knowing it was an empty threat. "What about my column and the articles I was putting the finishing touches to?"
"Leave them for later. If writing the article on Viggo takes too much time, I'll get someone else to help you. Now off with you."
Orlando stood, walked over to the desk and took the list and the ticket.
"Uhm," he said. "I guess I'll see you in a week then."
"I guess so," she answered with a smile. "Have fun."
"Oh, I will," Orlando answered with sincerity.
As he left the room, he had the most curious sensation of his feet not actually touching the ground. This was better than a simple phone call; this was simply amazing. He didn't even make it back to his office before his suddenly rock-hard cock demanded attention. The mere thought of one week with Viggo sent his libido into overdrive. He dived into to the first available room and locked the door behind him. Fortunately the room belonged to a co-worker on sick leave, so hopefully he wouldn't be bothered for the, oh, ten seconds it would take him to come. He'd hardly gotten his cock out of his pants before his cell-phone thrilled. Cursing every deity he could think of, he answered at the same time as he made a fist around his cock.
"Orlando," he said, biting back a gasp.
"Hi there, sexy. I take it you got my invitation."
"Viggo," Orlando croaked, his cock jerking in his hand.
"Much the same," Viggo said and Orlando could hear that he was smiling.
"Yeah, I got it," Orlando said, leaning back against the door and closing his eyes.
"Good. So I'll be seeing you tonight then."
"Yeah," Orlando said, slowly letting his hand slide up and down his cock.
"You sound a bit strained. Did I interrupt you?"
"No, no, not at all," Orlando said dreamily. "Just keep talking."
Viggo really had the sexiest voice; it was making all kinds of funny things happen inside of him. His cock was like steel in his hand; the naughtiness of the whole situation making him hornier than he'd been in a long while. He rubbed his thumb over the slit, smearing the beaded moisture, not bothering to hide his strained breathing any longer.
"What are you doing?" Viggo asked.
"Just looking over the list you sent me," Orlando lied.
"Yeah about that… If you don't have an extra large dildo you don't have to buy one. I found the one I thought I'd lost yesterday."
"Really," Orlando answered.
He wasn't really listening; he was just letting Viggo's voice wash over him as he fisted his cock.
"Oh man," Viggo's voice sounded strangely thick. "You're jerking off, aren't you? Naughty, naughty boy.
"I'm sorry," Orlando answered, not feeling the slightest bit sorry. Right now he just felt too good to be sorry. "Want me to stop?"
"God, no… Just tell me what you're doing."
Orlando cradled the phone against his shoulder, reaching down with his other hand to grasp his balls. "I got my fist around my cock," he whispered in hushed gasps. "And my other hand is holding my balls. Just holding them."
"That's right," Viggo said. "Fist yourself for me. Make yourself come."
"Oh yeah," Orlando moaned, struggling to keep his voice down.
He sped up the tempo of his strokes and tugged lightly on his balls. It wouldn't be much longer before he came all over himself. His harsh breaths sounded unnaturally loud in the empty room and every now and then a moan escaped him.
"You sound so hot," Viggo purred. "I'll come just from listening to you."
Orlando bit his lip, whimpering slightly as the pressure built to an almost unbearable level.
"That's it, babe. Let it come, don't hold back."
With a strangled keening sound Orlando orgasmed, squeezing his pelvic floor muscle at the very last instant and thus keeping himself from ejaculating. It was stupid thing to do really, any second now someone could come banging at the door, but Viggo's panted breaths in his ear told him the actor was close as well and he wanted them to come together. He kept fisting his still rock hard cock smearing the small amount of fluid that had escaped when he came all over his erection.
"I'm about ready again," Orlando gasped. "Can you come with me, or should I hold back shooting again?"
Viggo moaned loudly. "How did I just know you could to that, you hot, hot thing? You can come with me if you let go right nooooooow."
Orlando's body reacted instinctly to Viggo's groaned command and in a heartbeat he was coming again, so hard that he wasn't sure he would have been able to hold back spurtingeven if he had wanted to. This time the moan that escaped him was loud enough to echo through the office but he just didn't care. The door was locked after all; he could just say he stubbed his toe in the dark or something. Panting, he reached a cum-smeared hand up and grabbed hold of the phone that was escaping from his shoulder.
"I'll see you tonight," he said still light headed from his intense orgasm.
"And you better sleep on the plane," Viggo growled. "Cause I'll fuck you so hard and for so long that you'll need every second of sleep you can get."
Orlando hung up with an audible groan, already getting turned on again.
TBC
Author: jeyhawk
Series: Yes!
Rating: NC17
Pairing: VM/OB
Summary: Viggo is a famous actor and Orlando is a reporter. Between the two of them sparks are flying, but can they make it more than just a fling.
Disclaimer: Viggo is an actor and Orlando is too. In this story Orlando is a reporter. What does that tell us? It’s liiiiiies.
Feedback: Pretty please.
Archive: List archive, jeyhawk_fic
Beta: mesnica, with a side-dish of bwitched83uk.
Dedication: To everyone that read and commented on Blinded. Thank you!
Thanks to: mesnica and bwitched83uk for your endless nagging. Without you girls, I would never get anything done.
Warnings: AU, some kink (nothing too heavy).
Notes: Another porny series for my devoted porn fans. :0) I promise lurve and lots of kisses for this one. :0)
Note2: A rather short chapter, but I wanted to get the story going. The only porn you owe to mesnica if it hadn’t been for her it would have been pornless. :0)
Banner made by mesnica
Chapter 4
Orlando was in a foul mood, as he'd been the last two weeks give or take a few days. It had been three weeks since he fucked up his interview with Viggo and was rewarded with lots of steaming hot fucking. Not that the fact that he'd gotten laid had appeased his editor much, well it might have if he'd been able to tell her the true story, but Viggo being who he was had made Orlando keeping it quiet. He'd only told Jared who had squeed in Orlando's ear for a full five minutes before he managed coherency and asked for details. Still, that had been three weeks ago and Orlando's insanely good mood and optimistic view of the whole thing had only lasted for a week. Now he was quite convinced Viggo would never call him and that the only way Orlando would ever see him again was if he took to celebrity stalking, and that would be a new all time low even for him.
Orlando biked to work, as usual grumbling under his breath about any and every obstacle that he considered to be in his way. He carried the bike with him upstairs to the little storage room next to the cupboard he called his office since leaving it outside was a good way to get it stolen and he'd already made that particular mistake twice this week. As he put his bike away he wondered what was largest the storage: room or his office. To him it seemed like his bike might have more space than he had, even though his office looked much nicer and had a window. He was just about to enter his office and find out what kind of crap had wound up on his desk since he left it the day before, when his editor stuck her head out from his big nice corner office.
"Orlando, you lying little scoundrel. You better get your tight little ass here right away," she yelled at him in her no-nonsense voice.
"Coming, Cate," he answered and hurried along the corridor past her smirking secretary Elijah and into her spacey office.
She was sitting in her chair, leafing through some papers on her desk, looking for all the world like she hadn't just yelled at him and called him names. He wondered what was up with the act and took a seat in one of her imposing guest chairs. Cate was a beautiful woman in her early thirties and most days she and Orlando got along just fine. This didn't seem to be one of those days though and he wondered what he'd done this time.
"Is there something you didn't tell me about your little interview with Mr Mortensen?" she asked, still looking at her papers.
"No," Orlando said quickly and swallowed. He'd always been a terrible liar and preferred to lie by omission.
He felt himself growing cold as he waited for her to continue. Had someone gotten pictures of them, or had someone leaked to the press? What if he'd ruined Viggo's career? The only person he'd told though was Jared and Jared would never betray him like that, but what if Jared had told Colin? No fuck that, of course Jared had told Colin, and Colin, the smarmy Irish bastard, could have told anyone. Except, Orlando doubted he would do that to Jared.
"This arrived this morning," Cate said waving a paper in the air. "It tells a different story than the one you told me. The one about your fucked-up interview."
Orlando looked at the paper with trepidation. As far as he could tell the note on it was hand written; that didn't bade well for him.
"What is it?" he asked.
Cate finally looked at him and smiled. "I won't tell you unless you tell me what really happened at that interview."
"I can't," he said trying to plead with her. "Please, Cate, don't be such a bitch."
"Bitch?" she asked rising her eyebrows. "Is that something you call your boss?"
"When she's acting like one… Cate, you know I love you, but you have a sick sense of humour and I'm not in the mood for this."
"Awww. What crawled up your ass and died lately? You didn't used to be this easy to piss off."
"I met this guy, okay? And I really liked him and we had some amazing sex but he never called. So I really don't feel like sitting here and taking crap from you. I got a column to write and some articles to finish… If you even want me to contribute to this bloody magazine." Orlando got up from his uncomfortable chair and started walking towards the door. Until now he hadn't even admitted to himself how much it had affected him that Viggo hadn't called, and now that he had he felt even worse than before. It would serve Viggo right if their little one-night-stand ruined his career. He could have called.
"Orli? I'm sorry," Cate said. "Come back here."
He turned back to her, but made no move to regain his seat; the scary looking designer chair was uncomfortable anyway.
"I'm sorry the guy didn't call. I know what that feels like. I didn't call you here to yell at you anyway, but rather to kiss your feet and worship you. What I have here is a once in a lifetime opportunity and you are the only one of my reporters that could have pulled it off. Sit down again and I'll show it to you."
Orlando sat down but he wore a face that made it obvious he didn't want to.
"So what is it that tied your panties into a knot?" he asked sourly.
"This here," she said, placing it on the desk and running her hand over it, "is an invitation to spend one week at Viggo Mortensen's ranch with the man himself. Just the two of you for ONE bloody WEEK. Do you have any idea what this is worth? We'll double our sale, no scratch that, we'll triple it. The man hasn't given an in-depth interview for three years and he's the hottest shit there is right now."
Orlando blinked, trying to understand what she was telling him. He would get to see Viggo again, for one week, exclusively. Just the two of them, for one week, on his ranch. Where was his ranch again?
"You'll be flying to Idaho tonight. Bring your camera and take lots of pictures. Here is a list of things you should take with you, and here is your ticket."
Orlando's head snapped up. "A list?"
"I just said that, didn't I? Try to keep up. You can buy anything you need on the mag's expense account, but if you blow this… I'll make you pay back every cent through the nose AND I'll fire your sorry ass."
Orlando just smiled, knowing it was an empty threat. "What about my column and the articles I was putting the finishing touches to?"
"Leave them for later. If writing the article on Viggo takes too much time, I'll get someone else to help you. Now off with you."
Orlando stood, walked over to the desk and took the list and the ticket.
"Uhm," he said. "I guess I'll see you in a week then."
"I guess so," she answered with a smile. "Have fun."
"Oh, I will," Orlando answered with sincerity.
As he left the room, he had the most curious sensation of his feet not actually touching the ground. This was better than a simple phone call; this was simply amazing. He didn't even make it back to his office before his suddenly rock-hard cock demanded attention. The mere thought of one week with Viggo sent his libido into overdrive. He dived into to the first available room and locked the door behind him. Fortunately the room belonged to a co-worker on sick leave, so hopefully he wouldn't be bothered for the, oh, ten seconds it would take him to come. He'd hardly gotten his cock out of his pants before his cell-phone thrilled. Cursing every deity he could think of, he answered at the same time as he made a fist around his cock.
"Orlando," he said, biting back a gasp.
"Hi there, sexy. I take it you got my invitation."
"Viggo," Orlando croaked, his cock jerking in his hand.
"Much the same," Viggo said and Orlando could hear that he was smiling.
"Yeah, I got it," Orlando said, leaning back against the door and closing his eyes.
"Good. So I'll be seeing you tonight then."
"Yeah," Orlando said, slowly letting his hand slide up and down his cock.
"You sound a bit strained. Did I interrupt you?"
"No, no, not at all," Orlando said dreamily. "Just keep talking."
Viggo really had the sexiest voice; it was making all kinds of funny things happen inside of him. His cock was like steel in his hand; the naughtiness of the whole situation making him hornier than he'd been in a long while. He rubbed his thumb over the slit, smearing the beaded moisture, not bothering to hide his strained breathing any longer.
"What are you doing?" Viggo asked.
"Just looking over the list you sent me," Orlando lied.
"Yeah about that… If you don't have an extra large dildo you don't have to buy one. I found the one I thought I'd lost yesterday."
"Really," Orlando answered.
He wasn't really listening; he was just letting Viggo's voice wash over him as he fisted his cock.
"Oh man," Viggo's voice sounded strangely thick. "You're jerking off, aren't you? Naughty, naughty boy.
"I'm sorry," Orlando answered, not feeling the slightest bit sorry. Right now he just felt too good to be sorry. "Want me to stop?"
"God, no… Just tell me what you're doing."
Orlando cradled the phone against his shoulder, reaching down with his other hand to grasp his balls. "I got my fist around my cock," he whispered in hushed gasps. "And my other hand is holding my balls. Just holding them."
"That's right," Viggo said. "Fist yourself for me. Make yourself come."
"Oh yeah," Orlando moaned, struggling to keep his voice down.
He sped up the tempo of his strokes and tugged lightly on his balls. It wouldn't be much longer before he came all over himself. His harsh breaths sounded unnaturally loud in the empty room and every now and then a moan escaped him.
"You sound so hot," Viggo purred. "I'll come just from listening to you."
Orlando bit his lip, whimpering slightly as the pressure built to an almost unbearable level.
"That's it, babe. Let it come, don't hold back."
With a strangled keening sound Orlando orgasmed, squeezing his pelvic floor muscle at the very last instant and thus keeping himself from ejaculating. It was stupid thing to do really, any second now someone could come banging at the door, but Viggo's panted breaths in his ear told him the actor was close as well and he wanted them to come together. He kept fisting his still rock hard cock smearing the small amount of fluid that had escaped when he came all over his erection.
"I'm about ready again," Orlando gasped. "Can you come with me, or should I hold back shooting again?"
Viggo moaned loudly. "How did I just know you could to that, you hot, hot thing? You can come with me if you let go right nooooooow."
Orlando's body reacted instinctly to Viggo's groaned command and in a heartbeat he was coming again, so hard that he wasn't sure he would have been able to hold back spurtingeven if he had wanted to. This time the moan that escaped him was loud enough to echo through the office but he just didn't care. The door was locked after all; he could just say he stubbed his toe in the dark or something. Panting, he reached a cum-smeared hand up and grabbed hold of the phone that was escaping from his shoulder.
"I'll see you tonight," he said still light headed from his intense orgasm.
"And you better sleep on the plane," Viggo growled. "Cause I'll fuck you so hard and for so long that you'll need every second of sleep you can get."
Orlando hung up with an audible groan, already getting turned on again.
TBC