I think someone laced my cookies.
Feb. 13th, 2004 12:05 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
arden-elear.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rugbytackleTitle: The Beard.
Chapter: 1/?
Rated: R to NC-17
Pairing: VM/SB
Disclaimer: RPS: Real Person Slash. Read it/Don’t read it. Make an adult decision.
Warning: Weirdness-at-work. Bring towels and lots of lube.
Feedback: Nice, but not required.
Archive: No.
Overall Summary: There is more than one way to skin a cat.
Author: Arden Elear
Email: rishalin@lycos.com
Live Journal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/arden_elear/
Website: http://www.angelfire.com/folk/rishalin/
The Beard
Viggo had his eyes closed, his head tilted up to bask in the warm morning sunshine that was so welcome after weeks spent working in darkness when a large hand landed on his thigh. He jumped, startled, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Save me!” Sean said in an urgent voice as he plonked himself down next to Viggo on the trailer steps.
“Save you?” Viggo looked around. No hobbits in pursuit, no sign of angry husbands.
“What? It’s a lifetime obligation now, not just an acting job?”
Sean grinned, spoiling his attempt at seeming furtive and needy.
“You’re my King. It’s in the job description.”
“Not in my lunch hour, Steward. That’s in the union rules.”
Sean poked his tongue out, but then thought better of it.
“Look. You just gotta protect me, right? He’s after me.”
Viggo suppressed a sigh. Sean was in full flight. He abandoned his hope of a peaceful noontime rest, ground out the butt of his smoke with a boot heel and concentrated on figuring out what Bean was on about this time.
“Who is after you?” All Viggo could see were various members of cast and crew lounging around as he wished he still were, enjoying a few moments of stillness in a hectic schedule.
“Harry.” Sean whispered. “He wants me.”
“Harry wants you?” Viggo echoed, understanding not at all. “Sean, I can’t even see Harry! What’s he want you for?”
Sean tugged futilely at the neck of his costume. “You know.” He said. “Wants me.”
When Viggo still looked blank, Sean elaborated. “He’s after me arse, Vig. You have to help me.”
“Ahh.” Viggo nodded, getting it, finally. “Harry’s after a piece of ass. Your ass, specifically.”
“It’s ‘arse’, Viggo.” Sean corrected as he always did. “An ass is a wild donkey.”
Viggo rolled his eyes, hiding his grin.
“Nit-picking Englishman.” He cussed mildly. “He desires your buttocks, your bottom, your posterior . . .” He would have gone on, but Sean’s hand flat across his mouth made speech difficult.
“Help. Me.” Sean spelled it out in tones one would use when speaking to an imbecile. “Need. Help.”
“If you don’t want to play hide the sausage with Harry, just tell him ‘no’.” Viggo removed Sean’s gagging hand and shrugged his shoulders.
Seemed simple enough to him. Sean shouldn’t have any trouble with composing a polite refusal. Surely he’d had lots of practice at it? Bloke who looked like Sean must have.
Sean breathed out through his nose. Not a good sign.
“I have tried.” He explained patiently. “And tried, and tried. He’s a nice enough bloke, just not my type. But he won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“And I can help, how?” Viggo wanted to know.
Sean looked like the thought the answer should be obvious. “Nobody messes with you Vig. Nobody in their right mind, anyway.”
Viggo treated him to a raised eyebrow for that one, but let it slide.
“You want me to tell Harry to leave your bum alone?”
“Now there’s a thought.” A bright voice interrupted from behind Viggo.
“Hey, Orlando.” Viggo turned and smiled gratefully at his co-star. Maybe Orlando could help Sean? “What’s a thought?”
Orlando swung around the railing and planted himself at Viggo’s feet, heedless of the danger of grass stains to his costume.
“What you said.” Orlando looked up at them both. “Sean already consulted me, so get that look off your face. It was my idea he ask you.” Sean nodded his agreement at this. “I thought if anyone could come up with a plan to get Harry to leave off Sean, it’d be you. And you have. You’re brilliant, Viggo.”
I am? Viggo thought bemused. I have? What plan?
But he was saved the embarrassment of having to ask as Orlando continued on.
“You see, Sean.” He was saying. “Vig’s right. You need a beard.”
But he has a beard. Viggo double-checked, swinging around to look at Sean. He felt the conversation had suddenly taken a surreal and rather dangerous turn.
“. . . and Viggo would be perfect.” Orlando finished, beaming.
A perfect beard?
Oh!
That kind of beard!
He sighed with relief as his world righted itself again.
No! Wait just a minute . . .
“Whoa! Whoa!” He held his hands up defensively. “Hang on a second here! I can’t . . . I don’t . . . I’m not . . .”
Both Sean and Orlando were looking at him with patient expressions, waiting for him to make sense. He didn’t fancy their chances.
“. . . gay.” He ventured.
“So?” Said Orlando.
Okay. End of that argument.
“Besides.” Sean put in. “You are. Or rather, are sort of. Didn’t you tell me once you’d done blokes before?”
“Well . . . yeah.” Viggo conceded reluctantly, not liking the sensation of losing his grip. “Long time ago.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway.” Orlando interrupted as Viggo tried valiantly to regain control of his fate. “Harry only has to believe it. Doesn’t need to be true.”
He had a point. Damn him.
Viggo sighed, trying very hard not to be swayed by Sean’s pleading look.
“I pretend you’re my . . . boyfriend and Harry will back off.”
“That is brilliant Vig, thanks.” Sean gushed.
What?
Who said anything about a foregone conclusion?
Viggo considered panicking. Decided it was too hot to waste the energy.
“So, what do I have to do?” He asked cautiously, eyeing them both.
Sean and Orlando both wore thoughtful looks.
“Nothing much, I suppose.” Sean offered. “No more than usual anyway, I shouldn’t think. Hang out together like we always do, stuff like that. Just, when Harry’s around, we could kind of . . . hint?”
“Hint?”
“Yeah, like . . . umm. Orli?”
Orlando made a great show of thinking about it. Ham.
“Arm along the back of the couch? Pull out his chair for him? Snog him mercilessly?” He ended with a cheeky smile.
You’ll pay for that, Viggo decided.
“Vig?” Oh God. Puppy dog eyes. Two sets.
No harm in it though, he supposed. Harry would soon get sick of it and move on.
“All right.” Unwillingly he gave in.
“Aww.” Sean pounded him on the back in heartfelt appreciation and three vertebrae collapsed. “Thanks, mate.”
“On set, please.” A distant hail.
“Time to go.” Orlando bounded to his feet and the two of them made to leave.
Sean got to his feet and straightened his tunic. “See you down there. . . ”
Viggo looked up.
“. . . Honey.” Sean added, eyes twinkling.
“I can’t wait.” Viggo drawled and watched them go, wondering who had tattooed the word ‘sucker’ on his forehead while he slept.
*
Safe around the corner, Sean stopped and pulled out his wallet.
“Two hundred.”
“Two fifty.” Orlando reminded.
Sean handed over the cash. “Worth every penny.”
“Think it’ll work?” Orlando asked as he efficiently stowed his ill-gotten gains down the front of his tunic.
“Course it’ll work.” Sean grinned. “He’s mine. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
**
tbc
Chapter: 1/?
Rated: R to NC-17
Pairing: VM/SB
Disclaimer: RPS: Real Person Slash. Read it/Don’t read it. Make an adult decision.
Warning: Weirdness-at-work. Bring towels and lots of lube.
Feedback: Nice, but not required.
Archive: No.
Overall Summary: There is more than one way to skin a cat.
Author: Arden Elear
Email: rishalin@lycos.com
Live Journal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/arden_elear/
Website: http://www.angelfire.com/folk/rishalin/
The Beard
Viggo had his eyes closed, his head tilted up to bask in the warm morning sunshine that was so welcome after weeks spent working in darkness when a large hand landed on his thigh. He jumped, startled, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Save me!” Sean said in an urgent voice as he plonked himself down next to Viggo on the trailer steps.
“Save you?” Viggo looked around. No hobbits in pursuit, no sign of angry husbands.
“What? It’s a lifetime obligation now, not just an acting job?”
Sean grinned, spoiling his attempt at seeming furtive and needy.
“You’re my King. It’s in the job description.”
“Not in my lunch hour, Steward. That’s in the union rules.”
Sean poked his tongue out, but then thought better of it.
“Look. You just gotta protect me, right? He’s after me.”
Viggo suppressed a sigh. Sean was in full flight. He abandoned his hope of a peaceful noontime rest, ground out the butt of his smoke with a boot heel and concentrated on figuring out what Bean was on about this time.
“Who is after you?” All Viggo could see were various members of cast and crew lounging around as he wished he still were, enjoying a few moments of stillness in a hectic schedule.
“Harry.” Sean whispered. “He wants me.”
“Harry wants you?” Viggo echoed, understanding not at all. “Sean, I can’t even see Harry! What’s he want you for?”
Sean tugged futilely at the neck of his costume. “You know.” He said. “Wants me.”
When Viggo still looked blank, Sean elaborated. “He’s after me arse, Vig. You have to help me.”
“Ahh.” Viggo nodded, getting it, finally. “Harry’s after a piece of ass. Your ass, specifically.”
“It’s ‘arse’, Viggo.” Sean corrected as he always did. “An ass is a wild donkey.”
Viggo rolled his eyes, hiding his grin.
“Nit-picking Englishman.” He cussed mildly. “He desires your buttocks, your bottom, your posterior . . .” He would have gone on, but Sean’s hand flat across his mouth made speech difficult.
“Help. Me.” Sean spelled it out in tones one would use when speaking to an imbecile. “Need. Help.”
“If you don’t want to play hide the sausage with Harry, just tell him ‘no’.” Viggo removed Sean’s gagging hand and shrugged his shoulders.
Seemed simple enough to him. Sean shouldn’t have any trouble with composing a polite refusal. Surely he’d had lots of practice at it? Bloke who looked like Sean must have.
Sean breathed out through his nose. Not a good sign.
“I have tried.” He explained patiently. “And tried, and tried. He’s a nice enough bloke, just not my type. But he won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“And I can help, how?” Viggo wanted to know.
Sean looked like the thought the answer should be obvious. “Nobody messes with you Vig. Nobody in their right mind, anyway.”
Viggo treated him to a raised eyebrow for that one, but let it slide.
“You want me to tell Harry to leave your bum alone?”
“Now there’s a thought.” A bright voice interrupted from behind Viggo.
“Hey, Orlando.” Viggo turned and smiled gratefully at his co-star. Maybe Orlando could help Sean? “What’s a thought?”
Orlando swung around the railing and planted himself at Viggo’s feet, heedless of the danger of grass stains to his costume.
“What you said.” Orlando looked up at them both. “Sean already consulted me, so get that look off your face. It was my idea he ask you.” Sean nodded his agreement at this. “I thought if anyone could come up with a plan to get Harry to leave off Sean, it’d be you. And you have. You’re brilliant, Viggo.”
I am? Viggo thought bemused. I have? What plan?
But he was saved the embarrassment of having to ask as Orlando continued on.
“You see, Sean.” He was saying. “Vig’s right. You need a beard.”
But he has a beard. Viggo double-checked, swinging around to look at Sean. He felt the conversation had suddenly taken a surreal and rather dangerous turn.
“. . . and Viggo would be perfect.” Orlando finished, beaming.
A perfect beard?
Oh!
That kind of beard!
He sighed with relief as his world righted itself again.
No! Wait just a minute . . .
“Whoa! Whoa!” He held his hands up defensively. “Hang on a second here! I can’t . . . I don’t . . . I’m not . . .”
Both Sean and Orlando were looking at him with patient expressions, waiting for him to make sense. He didn’t fancy their chances.
“. . . gay.” He ventured.
“So?” Said Orlando.
Okay. End of that argument.
“Besides.” Sean put in. “You are. Or rather, are sort of. Didn’t you tell me once you’d done blokes before?”
“Well . . . yeah.” Viggo conceded reluctantly, not liking the sensation of losing his grip. “Long time ago.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway.” Orlando interrupted as Viggo tried valiantly to regain control of his fate. “Harry only has to believe it. Doesn’t need to be true.”
He had a point. Damn him.
Viggo sighed, trying very hard not to be swayed by Sean’s pleading look.
“I pretend you’re my . . . boyfriend and Harry will back off.”
“That is brilliant Vig, thanks.” Sean gushed.
What?
Who said anything about a foregone conclusion?
Viggo considered panicking. Decided it was too hot to waste the energy.
“So, what do I have to do?” He asked cautiously, eyeing them both.
Sean and Orlando both wore thoughtful looks.
“Nothing much, I suppose.” Sean offered. “No more than usual anyway, I shouldn’t think. Hang out together like we always do, stuff like that. Just, when Harry’s around, we could kind of . . . hint?”
“Hint?”
“Yeah, like . . . umm. Orli?”
Orlando made a great show of thinking about it. Ham.
“Arm along the back of the couch? Pull out his chair for him? Snog him mercilessly?” He ended with a cheeky smile.
You’ll pay for that, Viggo decided.
“Vig?” Oh God. Puppy dog eyes. Two sets.
No harm in it though, he supposed. Harry would soon get sick of it and move on.
“All right.” Unwillingly he gave in.
“Aww.” Sean pounded him on the back in heartfelt appreciation and three vertebrae collapsed. “Thanks, mate.”
“On set, please.” A distant hail.
“Time to go.” Orlando bounded to his feet and the two of them made to leave.
Sean got to his feet and straightened his tunic. “See you down there. . . ”
Viggo looked up.
“. . . Honey.” Sean added, eyes twinkling.
“I can’t wait.” Viggo drawled and watched them go, wondering who had tattooed the word ‘sucker’ on his forehead while he slept.
*
Safe around the corner, Sean stopped and pulled out his wallet.
“Two hundred.”
“Two fifty.” Orlando reminded.
Sean handed over the cash. “Worth every penny.”
“Think it’ll work?” Orlando asked as he efficiently stowed his ill-gotten gains down the front of his tunic.
“Course it’ll work.” Sean grinned. “He’s mine. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
**
tbc
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-02-12 04:08 pm (UTC)More, please?
no subject
Date: 2004-02-12 04:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-12 04:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-12 04:57 pm (UTC)And *grin* I can completely imagine Harry not taking no for an answer...
~Kris
no subject
Date: 2004-02-12 06:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-12 07:00 pm (UTC)When Viggo still looked blank, Sean elaborated. “He’s after me arse, Vig. You have to help me.”
“Ahh.” Viggo nodded, getting it, finally. “Harry’s after a piece of ass. Your ass, specifically.”
“It’s ‘arse’, Viggo.” Sean corrected as he always did. “An ass is a wild donkey.”
Viggo rolled his eyes, hiding his grin.
“Nit-picking Englishman.” He cussed mildly. “He desires your buttocks, your bottom, your posterior . . .” He would have gone on, but Sean’s hand flat across his mouth made speech difficult.
This whole thing was funny but that almost had me spitting soda across the screen.
Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. Please post more very soon. This is just great.
no subject
Date: 2004-02-12 07:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-12 09:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-12 09:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-13 01:11 am (UTC)I need a sequel, more please? *puppy eyes*
no subject
Date: 2004-02-13 05:50 am (UTC)Can't stop giggling at that one. Brilliant! Thank you for the 6am laugh.
no subject
Date: 2004-02-14 02:04 am (UTC)Fun
Date: 2004-02-17 03:10 am (UTC)Sounds like a Southern belle! *snortle*
Sean pounded him on the back in heartfelt appreciation and three vertebrae collapsed
Ah, enthusiastic, manly Sean! My favorite! :)
no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 05:38 am (UTC)*gasps for air*
moremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremore
ok, i think you get the point...this is awesome!