Never-Finished Fic: lotrips, Henry/Orlando, Viggo/Orlando

[rsadelle]

I think this one came out of the discussion we had on the original lotrips list about how the age difference between Henry and Orlando is less than the age difference between Viggo and Orlando.

This also has an unfinished sex scene. You can really see where I had problems with fic.

"Nice tats."

Henry looked up from where he was drawing matching designs on his right arm. "Thanks."

Orlando took a drag off his cigarette and used it to gesture at Henry's drawings. "Ever think about real tattoos?"

Henry shrugged. "Sometimes. But I can't do it until I'm eighteen." He looked up at Orlando. "Exene and Viggo agreed."

Orlando watched him draw while he smoked. "When you're eighteen, I'll take you to get your first tattoo."

Henry stopped drawing. "Really?"

Orlando grinned. "Really." Peter yelled at him and he stubbed out his cigarette. "It's a promise," he said, ruffling Henry's hair on his way back to Middle Earth.

***

The call came out of the blue.

"Got a design picked out?" a voice greeted him when he answered. It took him a moment to place the voice.

"Orli!"

His exclamation was met with a slow chuckle. "Got it in one, kid. Your birthday's next week, and I've got some time off. I promised I'd take you to get your first tat."

"I'd almost forgotten about that," Henry mused. "Yeah, I've got a design picked out."

"My favorite guy's in New York. Can you make it there?"

Henry glanced around the set. "Yeah, probably. If it's a weekend."

They set a date and a place to meet, and chatted until Henry's break was over.

They met up a week and a half later in the lobby of the hotel, an exuberant reunion, full of hugs and back-pounding and laughter.

"Come on," Orlando said as soon as they'd dropped their bags in their room. "Let's go get that tattoo."

"Right now?"

Orlando grinned. "Yep. No time for you to lose your nerve."

"I won't lose my nerve. I've been planning on this for a long time."

Orlando grabbed his sunglasses from the table. "Got your design?"

Henry pulled it out of his bag where it had been carefully sandwiched between the pages of a book. "Got it."

Orlando hustled him out the door and down onto the street. He hailed a taxi and gave the driver directions. "Do I get to see it?" he asked once they were on their way.

Henry handed him the carefully flat piece of paper.

Orlando whistled. "Where you going to put it?"

"Around my wrist."

Orlando winced. "It's going to hurt like a bitch."

Henry shrugged. "It's what I want."

"Directors aren't going to like that. You won't be able to cover it up with makeup for a couple of weeks."

"We're doing winter scenes."

"You sure you want something that visible for your first one?"

"Yes. I told you, I've been planning this for a long time." Henry looked at Orlando out of the corner of his eye. "Do you like it?"

Orlando nodded. "Pretty fucking incredible." He glanced from the design to Henry. "You do it yourself?"

"Yeah."

A smile hovered around Orlando's mouth. "I remember the tattoos you drew on yourself in New Zealand. They were pretty damn good for being self done with your off hand."

"I got Viggo's abilities."

The taxi came to a stop. Orlando paid the driver and they went into the tattoo parlor. Orlando had, it seemed, made an appointment for him. He'd booked the whole afternoon, just to be safe. That helped explain his eagerness.

"Let's see this design," the guy, who Orlando had introduced as Lenny, said.

Henry handed it over.

"Nice," Lenny approved. "Your own work?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah."

Lenny nodded. "Should transfer well enough." He looked up at Henry. "Going on your wrist?"

"Yeah."

Lenny nodded again. "Where do you want this?" he tapped the center of the design.

Henry held up his wrist. "Here," he said, putting his finger against the inside of his wrist.

"Colors?"

"Black."

"Classic. Simple." Lenny took the design into the back room to make the transfer.

"You still sure?" Orlando asked.

Henry shot him an annoyed look. "Yes, I'm still sure."

Orlando reached out and ruffled his hair. "Just checking."

Henry ducked out from under his hand. "I'm not a little kid."

"Of course not. You're old enough to get your first tattoo."

Lenny came back, forestalling Henry's response. "All right. Take a seat." He ushered Henry into a chair and swabbed around his wrist with alcohol. He transferred the design on, checking with Henry to make sure it was oriented the way he wanted it.

Henry tried to just relax and breathe. It hurt, the sting of the needle pushing ink into his skin. It bled too, and more as Lenny worked toward the inside of his wrist and back out again. He'd expected the hurt, and the blood. He hadn't expected the flush of *something* that sang through his veins and worked against the pain. Orlando was watching him consideringly, and Henry thought he must know exactly what he was thinking.

Eventually it was over. There was a design, one of his own making, permanently etched into his skin, and the blood was cleaned off it. Lenny wrapped gauze around his wrist and taped it down. He told him what to do, and gave him written instructions too. It reminded Henry of getting his wisdom teeth out, only without the drowsiness of painkillers.

Lenny rang up the total on his cash register. Henry started to pull out his wallet, but Orlando stopped him.

"I've got it."

Henry stared at him as if he were crazy. "I can pay for my own tattoo."

Orlando met Henry's stubbornness with his own. "You shouldn't have to pay for your first tat."

"Did you pay for your first?"

"Nope. Someday you can pay for someone else's and pass it on." Orlando handed his credit card to Lenny.

"Thank you," Henry said softly.

Orlando smiled at him as he signed the credit slip. "You're welcome." He held the door and hailed a taxi to take them back to their hotel.

Henry leaned against the door on the trip back. He cradled his wrist in his hand and watched Orlando glance at him and back out the window and back at him again. Orlando paid this cabbie too, and they headed into the hotel and up to their room.

Orlando leaned back against the door and took Henry's arm above the gauze. "It hurt?" he asked, brushing his lips over the base of Henry's palm.

"Yes." Henry pulled his hand away from Orlando's mouth and kissed him instead, pushing him against the door. Orlando kissed him back, and then they were rubbing against each other, Orlando's back still against the door. They were careful of Henry's wrist, bandaged and sore.

"People are going to think you tried to do yourself in," Orlando said between kisses.

Henry laughed, and, "Can I fuck you?" he asked.

Orlando groaned and surged against him. "Yes."

"Good," Henry purred. He worked at the buttons of Orlando's shirt with his uninjured hand. "It's going to be good." He pushed Orlando's shirt open and started in on his jeans.

"Christ," Orlando muttered. He pushed Henry back and dropped his wrist. He pulled Henry's shirt over his head and did his best to unbutton Henry's jeans even as Henry's mouth roamed over his chest. "Bed."

Henry chuckled. "Too old for the doorway?"

"Fuck you."

Henry smiled languorously. "I thought I was fucking you."

Orlando pushed Henry away. "No one's doing any fucking until we get to the bed."

Henry ran the knuckle of one finger up Orlando's still-clothed cock. "Want to change your mind?" he asked when Orlando couldn't keep himself from bucking into the touch.

Orlando caught Henry's wrists, careful not to grip the new tattoo too tightly. "No." He turned Henry toward the bed and gave him a push. He pushed his pants to the floor and let his shirt drop. He walked past Henry and dropped onto the bed, rolling onto his back and reaching out to the edges of the bed. "Going to join me?" he asked with a lazy smile.

Henry detoured to his bag. He tossed lube and a condom onto the bed next to Orlando. While Henry finished taking off his clothes, Orlando squeezed lube onto his own fingers. Orlando met Henry's eyes and held them while he pushed two fingers into himself. Orlando's eyes drifted shut and he listened to Henry tear the condom wrapper.

Henry's hand grabbed Orlando's wrist and tugged until his hand was free of his body. Henry pulled the hand toward him and wrapped Orlando's still slippery fingers around his cock. Orlando took the hint and stroked him slowly. When Henry's eyes started to fall closed, Orlando tugged gently, pulling Henry toward him.

Henry leaned down and kissed Orlando long enough for him to get impatient before he pushed into Orlando with one long, slow thrust. Orlando moaned and arched up to hasten the penetration.

Henry chuckled softly. "In a hurry?"

Orlando rocked his hips against Henry's cock. "Yes. Don't tease me, Henry." His hands grasped at Henry's shoulders and slid down to his hips, trying to make Henry move faster.

Henry's hands settled onto Orlando's hips, holding him still. "I'm not teasing." He dipped his head and let Orlando take his mouth in a deep kiss.

"Will you please move?" Orlando growled when he broke his lips away from Henry's.

"Oh, I'll move." And he did move, in an excruciatingly slow thrust and withdrawal that had Orlando on the edge faster than any frenzied movement would have done.

"Oh, God, Henry," Orlando moaned. He reached down and grabbed his cock. He got two swift strokes in before Henry snatched his hands away.

"Oh, no, Orlando. We do this my way." He pushed Orlando's hands up over his head and pressed them into the pillow. "Don't move." Orlando twisted a little against him. "I mean it," Henry warned. "Don't move."

"Jesus, Henry. You're a sick fuck."

Henry leaned down and kissed Orlando deeply. "I know you like this."

***

"I think you wore me out."

Henry kissed him smugly. "Was I better than Viggo?"

Orlando gaped up at him. "You knew about that?"

"Everyone within a two-mile radius knew about that," Henry teased. He put a finger against Orlando's lips. "You're not exactly quiet."

Orlando flushed. "So was this just some kind of fucked up Oedipal thing?"

"If I were being Oedipal, strictly speaking, I'd fuck Exene."

"God, your language."

Henry snorted. "And you're so fucking pure."

***

"Was Henry better than I was?"

Orlando groaned. "Not you too."

Viggo took Orlando's hand in his and nipped at the nine on the inside of his wrist. "Was he?" His tongue dragged across Orlando's skin.