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Vince shifted uncomfortably, looking around at the party crowd before glancing down at his watch. He decided that he’d stay another fifteen or twenty minutes, long enough that he could say he showed up if Daniel asked him about it. He pushed down a twinge of annoyance that Daniel had convinced him to show up at the beach house and then not bothered to put in an appearance himself, leaving Vince to work the crowd alone.
“It’s to celebrate the pilot for my new show, Kartheiser.” Daniel had told him. “The producers will be there and I’ve heard they’re planning on casting a midseason replacement. Go. Make some contacts, let them know you’re interested.”
Great idea, in theory. Except Vince had discovered that plans generally never worked out the way he envisioned. And Vince wasn’t even sure if he wanted to be working on another show right now, and he really wasn’t sure how standing around trying to make small talk with a key grip was going to change the odds in his favor, anyway. He finished off his beer, and gestured at the empty bottle with an apologetic shrug at the grip...Jim. Vince was pretty sure the guy’s name was Jim. Or Tim. Tom? Something short and plain. The guy had been going on for the last thirty minutes about his big plans to be a director, how he was this close to getting a shot and if Vince played his cards right…It was all hot air, but Vince nodded and smiled politely, anyway.
He waved off the guy’s offer to accompany him and started to meander his way towards the bar. If he could just angle his way through the mass – how many people were invited to this thing, anyway? - and towards the door, he could slip out. Get home, catch that special on seals on the Discovery Channel and…
Disappoint Daniel. Damn. They hadn’t worked together all that much, not compared to a lot of people on the Angel set. But they’d gotten along from the first day they met and Vince knew that Daniel was going beyond the call of friendship to try and help him land a decent part. Kim had a thing about working with people he knew, about looking out for each other. Vince had heard from him the day Daniel and Charisma were on the same episode of that show, the matchmaking one.
“Can you believe it? I’m still a sleazy, slimy lawyer and she’s still a self-centered rich girl.” Daniel had been laughing so hard he could barely get the words out.
”Hey!” Vince found himself chuckling. Kim could always make him laugh. “Sometimes she got to be evil!”
“Not my point, laddie.” Whoever had told Kim that adopting a different accent every week would stretch his elocution should be shot. “My point is…it’s really tough to escape typecasting. Even when you go from fantasy-action-adventure to screwball fluff comedy.” Daniel’s voice had turned serious for a moment. “We both know the hardest switch an actor has to make is going from teen roles to adult ones. Oh, you can still play them, probably for a few years. But just because you must have sold your soul, because God help me if you don't look younger every time I see you, it doesn't mean you have to. You're not happy playing the teenager any more, I can tell.”
Vince heard a note he didn’t quite understand in Daniel’s voice. Worry, maybe? Something.
“I know. Hell, I know. I just…I’m not sure. I feel like I’m ready for something completely different, I just – I have no clue what it is, you know? And don’t try to do a Scottish accent, for the love of God. Nobody is going to want to see you in a kilt.”
Daniel had laughed and Vince had been relieved to hear his voice return to normal, smooth and warm and filled with affection.
“I happen to have very nice legs, thanks. When you’re done with Dandelion stuff, call me. You know me, I’ve always got my ear to the ground about new projects. We’ll find you something. And not another indie because those are great but not if nobody sees them. You need to get your face out there.”
Something had turned out to mean coming to the Lost party and making small talk. And feeling like he’d give everything just to be able to – get drunk, tear off all his clothing and race around naked. Hide upstairs in the bathroom. Anything at all to avoid making idle chitchat. It didn’t help that he really didn’t recognize most of the people in the room. He might have spent over a year doing regular television but he still didn’t actually watch it. If it wasn’t for the snippets of industry conversation he’d overheard, he could very well have stumbled into the wrong party.
-Most expensive pilot ever made, more expensive than some movies.
- Thank god we’ve actually been picked up – now we get to see how much the network actually keeps.
-Has anyone heard …
Vince never got to hear what anyone might have heard because he found himself trying to steer around a woman with the biggest hairdo he’d ever seen. She also had a loud, piercing voice that just screamed agent, and in his effort to avoid colliding into her, he somehow managed to slam right into somebody else.
“Sorry,” he blurted out, swinging towards his innocent victim as he tried to regain his balance. Moving around a little too hard and too fast and nearly falling in the process.
Hands caught him, anchoring him against the person he’d almost sent crashing to the ground. He heard a chortle and breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the laughter running from the body that pressed against his own. He started to laugh along.
“I swear, I was watching where I was going, I just wasn’t paying attention to everything in between.”
“Don’t blame you.”
The voice was young, British, choked with laughter. And vaguely familiar. Curious, Vince turned around, still laughing. Orlando Bloom. Even he recognized that face.
Orlando smiled at him, eyes dancing. Vince could feel himself relaxing for the first time that evening, smiling back in genuine amusement rather than with stiff politeness. After the last hour of boring small talk and false sincerity, this was the first moment that didn’t seem like acting. Something was definitely off if nearly knocking over Orlando Bloom was the first thing that didn’t feel unnatural, that felt real.
But that didn't mean he had any more control over the situation, evidently. Orlando grabbed his hand, tugging Vince after him.
“I happen to know Muriel," Orlando said in rushed tones, maneuvering them through the crowd with an expert ease of navigation that spoke of years of experience at parties and escape scenarios just like this one. "And…she’s heading this way.”
Vince followed along, hand still caught in Orlando’s grip. Part of him wanted to mention that he hadn’t been avoiding…Muriel…in particular, but couldn’t manage to get a word in between Orlando’s stream of conversation.
“Hey, I’m Orli. I don’t think we’ve met before. Dom asked me to drop in, he’s in the pilot you know, only I haven’t seen him once this whole evening, the wanker. So I’ve been spending my entire night dodging the people I don’t want to see and trying to find somebody that I actually want to talk to. Dom promised the whole gang would be here, but I should’ve known he was just pulling my leg. Probably had some sort of bet on. Anyway, I haven’t seen him and it’d serve him right if I just left and didn’t call him for a month. It's been hours."
Vince trailed along, slightly bewildered. Orlando showed no sign of letting him go. In fact, Orlando's hand seemed to tighten around his, tugging him closer as they weaved through the throng. God, how big was this beach-house anyways?
“But...the doors have only been open for an hour and a half, tops.”
Orlando waved his free hand about. “Details. Hey, do you want to get out of here? I’m – this place is a bit mad.” Orli turned back and smiled at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
Vince couldn’t help but smile back, suddenly feeling lighthearted. Yes! He could escape and not only would he not be lying when he told Daniel later that he’d talked to people, he’d be able to name drop. No need to mention he'd only spoken with Orlando for a few minutes before heading home to catch at least the end of the seal program.
“God, yes.”
Orlando grabbed a few bottles of beer, still towing Vince behind him. He passed the bottles back.
“Hold these, I’ll get a few more.” Orlando flashed a smile at a waiter, leaning forward to speak into the man’s ear. He swung around, grinning at Vince.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name. Or if I did, I didn’t remember it. You’re an actor, right?”
Vince nodded. “Vincent. Vince. I’m supposed to be here for the whole…” He waved his hand.
Orlando made a face. “Yeah. It’s…” He broke off as the waiter reappeared, holding a small bag. Orlando beamed a smile at the man, exchanging a few bills for the bag. “Thanks, mate. C’mon, Vin.” He started off again, still tugging Vince behind him.
“Wait, where are we going, exactly?”
”Where all good men go when they want to escape. The beach.”
** ** **
Orlando gestured broadly, knocking over one of the empty beer bottles that surrounded them. “Viggo says it’s all about choosing the parts that are completely different from what you’ve done before. Because otherwise, they’ll see you – but they’re not going to look at you, you know? And then you just end up with the same parts again and again. Only, to get the really good stuff, you’ve got to go outside your own comfort zone. Vig says comfort is just an illusion, anyway.”
Vince found himself nodding along. Two hours and more beers than he could remember later, Orlando was making a lot more sense.
"I’ve never done TV, though, not a regular series. You have, right? You liked it? Dom’s been going on and on about the series, but that’s exactly the sort of thing that worries me."
It took Vince a moment to realize Orlando had actually stopped talking this time, and was waiting for a reply. He’d been letting the words just wash over him, enjoying the sound of Orlando’s voice, his enthusiasm. Vince took the last sip of his beer, setting the empty bottle on the ground with the rest. He thought back on the set of Angel.
“Yeah. Yeah, I liked it. It was – you sort of become a family, you know? Everything’s familiar.”
Orlando beamed a smile at Vince, throwing his arm around him and squeezing him close. Vince had never met anybody who touched as much as Orlando, and he’d given up being surprised at how natural it felt. It was like Orlando was a force of nature, there was no point trying to resist him.
“A family! Yes. That’s exactly it, it was like that on Rings, because, you know, we were there years.” His voice turned wistful. “I’d like that again, you know. Knowing everybody like that. I mean, yeah, I’m keeping in touch with them but it’s a lot harder when I’m always in one town and then another. And then they’re going off to bloody Hawaii to shoot pilots, or Canada or somewhere. People should stay where you leave them.”
Vince found himself leaning into Orlando’s hold, resting against his body. He distantly wondered why he wasn’t pulling away, then reached for another beer bottle at the same time as Orlando. Both their hands hit it, Vince's touching it half a second before Orlando's knocked the bottle over. Orlando laughed, rescuing the beer from the sand, twisting off the cap and tucking it into the pocket of Vince’s pants as he handed him the beer. His fingers lingered against Vince’s for a moment, warm and slightly calloused.
“Spoils of war, mate – you won the bottle. Keep the cap, it’s good luck.”
Vince blinked at him, laughing. “You just made that up.”
”Yeah, so? These things have to start somewhere, right? I figure if we make enough things lucky, good fortune will come.” Orlando grabbed his own new bottle from the sand, grinning. Vince shivered slightly, suddenly missing the arm around him. “Anyway, I’ve got a new plan. I figure – I got the part in Black Hawk Down because I’d broken my back, right? And so I play a guy who breaks his back. It’s about having the experience, directors like that. They could have just used stuntmen for all of the elf stuff but instead we spent a lot of time training me up, so that it’d all feel more real. And it was great, I loved it. So obviously, it’d be better if I knew everything, right to start.”
“Well, sure. But you can’t know everything, and you never know what part is coming up next.” Vince wasn’t sure why he was trying to be logical, when nothing else about this night had made sense.
Orlando thumped him on the shoulder. “No, yeah, I know that. But see, you can figure out what kinds of roles might be interesting and work on that. Something different, something bigger than yourself. I even know what the next step should be.” He nodded his head to Vince in emphasis. “I really think you should kiss me, or let me kiss you.”
Vince dropped his beer bottle. He fumbled, rescuing it before all of the beer poured out into the sand and took a hefty swig. Gulping the beer down, he stared at Orlando with incredulity.
“Wha- You think I should do what?”
“Kiss me.” Orlando’s voice was enthusiastic. “For research, you know. I mean, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never kissed a guy.”
“No, I haven’t ever…wait, never?” Vince blinked a second.
He didn’t pay that much attention to the tabloids but he wasn’t completely out of touch with reality. He couldn't avoid grocery store lines and the covers of magazines, or exposure to channels like E! even if he flipped past them as quickly as possible. He’d still seen lots of shots of the Rings cast and they’d always seemed close in a way that made him do a double take. He’d always just assumed that, well that they were all sleeping together. He’d been close to a lot of his castmates before but – but never like that. Never where even the most casual shot had everybody with their hands all over each other. But then, he’d never worked with anybody like Orlando before. Maybe that's just the way Orlando was. The arm around him and the thumb brushing rhythmically over his shoulder definitely seemed to back that theory.
Vince’s mind tried to focus on what Orlando was saying now. Something more about widening of experience and breaking into new and different roles and how it would be really good for both of them to keep branching out, and it helps to have somebody who is willing to experience things with you, to encourage you. But he was still caught on the kissing thing.
“You’ve really never kissed another guy?”
A red flush crept across Orlando’s cheeks, barely visible beneath his tanned skin. He grinned at Vince, his entire face animated as he shifted on the sand. Vince couldn’t help but stare at that mouth. Orlando wanted him to kiss that mouth.
“No, see, that’s the thing, right? – we’re all mates so of course we kissed, on the cheek, on the mouth. I mean – I’ve never kissed a guy properly.” He thumped Vince’s thigh for emphasis with one hand, the other toying with his beer bottle. “It seemed a bit off to just – ask somebody I knew. I didn’t want to give them the wrong idea.”
Vince snorted. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. He more than half expected Daniel and Dom and a dozen reporters to be jumping out of the bushes yelling ‘gotcha’. Except there weren’t any bushes and Orlando seemed completely serious and why the hell was Vince even considering this?
“So you thought asking a total stranger was a better idea?”
“Exactly!” Orlando grinned at him, throwing his hands up in the air. The bottle went with them and a small shower of beer droplets rained down, splattering them both. “Oops.”
Vince looked at him, laughing. A small drop of beer was sliding down Orlando’s cheek, catching the faint light from the buildings behind them. The noise from the party in the distance seemed to fade and Vince found himself shifting uncomfortably, realizing with a shock somewhere in the back of his mind that he was hard. That he’d been hard practically since Orlando had started talking about kissing, slinging his arm around Vince, and he was growing even harder.
He took a deep breath. He’d told Daniel he was ready for something different, right? This was about as different as he could imagine. This wasn’t making small talk at a party where nothing would ever come of it. This was…this was taking a risk, putting himself out there. And – he couldn’t help but look at Orlando’s mouth again, wondering what it would be like to feel it against his own.
“Ok.”
”Ok?” Orlando looked surprised, delighted and excited all at once. Vince had to wonder if his own face was like that, showing everything that passed. He made a note to watch some of Orlando’s movies, see how illusion reflected reality and…Orlando had asked him something.
Vince nodded his head. “Hey, you make a compelling argument. You never know what a script is going to call for and I don’t want to lose a good role because I’m too shocked or awkward or …” He shrugged, trying to play it cool. Hide the fact that the whole idea was making him shake with nervousness and curiosity. He shifted uncomfortably in the sand, wondering what to do next. He wished desperately for a script right now, something solid that gave him the right lines, the exact instructions.
The droplet of beer was still tracing its way slowly down Orlando’s face, and Vince tried to drag his eyes away from it, away from Orlando’s mouth, look at Orlando and convey that he was serious. But he couldn’t make himself move.
“You’re sure, then…”
And Vince wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure at all. All of the talk of kissing and acting and thoughts about experience and…everything swirled together. He wasn’t sure if he was drunk, but he knew he didn’t care. He leaned forward, his hands shaking slightly, trying to control his breathing. Grabbed Orlando’s wrist, locking his fingers around it in emphasis. He could feel the smooth curve of leather beneath his hands and he jerked slightly, fingers skittering off the edge and sliding across hot skin. Licked his mouth, finally managing to force his eyes upwards, to look into Orli’s.
“Lets try this.”
Every time he took a breath he could smell Orlando, the scent of sandalwood mixing with the beer. Could feel the warmth of the body half-leaning into his own. He’d been watching that mouth move all night, as Orlando talked and now he just wanted to know what it would feel like moving against his own mouth.
Vince gave up on trying to convince Orlando that he wasn’t going to suddenly freak out and change his mind, leaned in instead. Licked the drop of beer off of Orlando’s face, tasting the contrast between the faint bitter malt and the salt of Orli’s skin, his eyes half closing. Slid his mouth down Orlando’s cheek, noting somehow in the back of his mind that even though the skin looked soft, smooth, a faint rasp of bristles abraded his mouth, making his lips feel swollen, more sensitive. He pulled back slightly, tongue flicking out to soothe the faint sting, eyes searching Orlando's to make sure he hadn’t gone too far, too fast. To make sure Orlando hadn’t been kidding all along.
Instead of pulling away, Orlando smiled, face bright and open, and moved forward, his mouth finding Vince’s.
It was awkward, their noses colliding and he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Where to put his hands, how to tilt his face, and the stubble scratching across his own chin was distracting and this whole idea was a complete mistake, he should have just gone home and watched the damn seals.
But then his mouth slid across Orlando’s just as Orlando’s lips parted, and his tongue traced the line of Vince’s lips and Vince gave a gasp, his own mouth falling open. Everything seemed to shift and suddenly he knew how to angle his head just right and he knew what to do with his hands. They belonged on Orlando’s body. His fingers tightened around the wrist they were still clasping. Warm, soft skin and smooth leather and his thumb was stroking against the band. His other hand wasn’t holding his bottle of beer any longer, it was sliding around Orlando’s waist and he was leaning into the kiss and he wasn’t sure he remembered how to breathe.
Orlando made a soft noise, deep in his throat and Vince found himself echoing it. Orlando's hand had somehow found its way under his shirt and was resting against the skin of his back, warm and large, pulling Vince’s body closer, even as their heads separated. Vince looked at Orlando, eyelids almost too heavy to lift. Tried to speak. Orlando’s skin was flushed now, mouth still parted, eyes dark and wide.
“So…” Orlando breathed. “That’s gay kissing, then.”
Vince nodded, his eyes still glazed slightly. Tried to speak, but instead, he found his mouth opening and closing again without making a sound. Nodded again.
“Course, maybe that’s just a fluke. We should probably try it again.”
Orlando tugged him forward, falling back into the sand and pulling Vince down with him.
Vince found his voice just long enough to moan, the sound muffled against Orlando’s mouth. Lips pressing against lips again, more insistent now, his breath ragged. He squirmed slightly, his body rubbing against Orlando’s, his dick so hard it hurt and he wasn’t even sure what he wanted, what Orlando wanted and…he pulled back, tried to stop his hands from shaking.
Orlando was looking at him, dark eyes wide and searching. And his hands were moving slowly out from under Vince’s shirt and for a second Vincent had the urge to grab them, keep Orlando touching him. But they’d said just one kiss and this was already their second, and...
Orlando’s hands moved to the front of Vincent’s shirt and slid upwards, pulling the shirt with them. Vince nearly closed his eyes from relief except that would mean not seeing this, seeing Orlando’s hands, bronzed against his own pale skin, one thumb sweeping slowly against his ribs before the caress continued to move up.
“This ok, then?” Orlando’s voice was hesitant, so soft Vince almost didn’t hear the question. And then Orlando’s thumb flicked against one of Vince’s nipples and he jolted, hips rocking against Orlando’s with his sudden start, catching his breath.
“This…” He took a deep breath. “This is ok. More than ok.”
Orlando grinned. “Thank fuck, because I really didn’t want to stop.” He tugged slightly at the shirt, brow furrowed. “It’s not going over your head.”
A surprised burst of laughter came from Vince, the humor of the situation helping him regain his sense of control for a minute. “Buttons. You Brits should look into them.” He flicked a finger at Orlando’s t-shirt.
Orlando grinned up at him. “I know what buttons are. I just don’t see why you do them all the way up.” His fingers flicked against Vince’s shirt, buttons slipping free, then he made a sound of satisfaction as the shirt slid, open, half falling off Vince's shoulders.
Vince shivered at the sudden feel of the cool, night air against him. Shook even more when Orlando reached out, tracing one finger down the line of his stomach.
“How – how far did you want to go?” Vince could feel his face blushing as he asked the question, heat sliding across his cheeks, down his throat and chest. He bit his lip, glancing nervously down at Orlando.
Orlando smiled, wiggling slightly beneath him. “Dunno. Didn’t really think about it, actually. Never really got further than thinking about the kissing part.” He shrugged, the movement sending his fingers sliding across Vince’s stomach, until he stopped at his hip, hands wrapping around the sharp jut of bone.
Vince started to nod, then caught his breath as Orlando tugged him down, flipping them over until Vince was lying flat on his back, looking upwards. Vince stiffened. “Wait.”
“What?” For the first time that evening, Orlando’s voice sounded nervous and he was still, frozen above Vince.
“This – acting.” Vince gathered his thoughts, trying to remember how to form sentences. “Is this just about learning the role? I’m not saying – stop. Just, not if it’s just about role experience. But...I'm also not sure…how far I want to go…”
Orlando’s voice sounded honestly puzzled “Until it stops feeling good?”
Vince smiled suddenly, relaxing. “That sounds about right.” He was probably making a huge mistake, but…he could still taste Orlando’s lips, wanted desperately to kiss him again. Figure out if this was real or just some sort of accident, some weird combination of beer and sand and salt turning him into somebody else for the night. He leaned his head back into the sand, shifting slightly beneath Orlando’s weight.
Orlando sat up, his voice half muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Had me worried there for a minute, that I’m not doing it right.” His skin was golden even in the darkness, and Vince could see a shadow of something on Orlando’s belly.
He leaned upwards, hand reaching out. “A tattoo?” His voice was surprised. He traced the lines of the sun, hand brushing against the soft skin. “I’d imagine that ticks off wardrobe.”
Orlando caught his breath, both hands reaching out to settle on Vince’s stomach, their movements mirroring his. “They’re not always pleased.” He stroked his hands upwards, leaning down, nibbling against Vince’s jaw, tongue and teeth tracing a slow path along the edge. Vince shivered again.
And then there was nothing but kisses, long and slow, fierce and bruising. On lips, and on skin. Sucking up bruises and then soothing them, bites and nibbles and moans underneath the sky. Hands flexing on hipbones and whimpers, pale skin sliding against bronze, moans and sighs and deep, shuddering breaths.
** ** **
Vince looked down at the audition script in his hands, frowning. He was on the fifth page and…couldn’t remember a single word he’d read so far. He wasn’t even sure which character he was supposed to be concentrating on. He sighed and threw the script on the desk, winced when it hit a small beer cap and sent it over the edge. Vince’s hand darted out and he caught it before it could hit the ground. He stared down at the cap for a minute. Closed his eyes and could hear laughter, smell beer and sandalwood.
Stupid, he told himself. I should just throw it away, forget about it. He rubbed his head wearily, jumping slightly as the phone rang.
He grabbed it before it could ring a second time. “Kartheiser speaking.”
“Vincent! I have been trying to get a hold of you all week.”
Daniel’s Russian accent, Vince decided, was a noted improvement over the Scottish thing. “Sorry…I’ve just been tired I guess.”
Daniel’s voice softened, resumed his ordinary tones. “You’ve been that way for a couple of weeks. Since the Lost thing. You’re not discouraged about not hearing about the new show, are you?”
“No, it’s not…it’s not that. Just been feeling a little, I don’t know, foolish lately. Like I should think things through a little bit more.”
“Thinking is good. I highly recommend thinking. But not this time. This time I highly recommend flying out to visit me in Hawaii for the weekend, getting away. Come on, I’ll show you my favorite beach.”
Vince felt a twinge of pain in his hand. He glanced down, forced himself to relax his grip around the beer cap cutting into his flesh. “Daniel, it’s not that I don’t want to…”
“If you even tell me that there’s a special on seals you need to watch, so help me I’m going to fly to LA on the next plane and drown you.”
Vince couldn’t help but laugh at that. “No, no. Actually, it’s good news. I’ve got a reading next week to prepare for and distractions are just not the best thing right now, you know? And yes, before you ask, it is for a TV pilot. Apparently there’s some big shot producer who likes to go around parties pretending to be a key grip named Bob. Says he can get a real feel for how an actor will be on set by how they treat the crew. So I should probably thank you for making me go to it.”
Daniel’s voice was so choked with laughter Vince could hardly hear him. “That is so your luck. Ok, fine, call me as soon as you know anything, ok?”
Vince’s grin faded as soon as he hung up the phone. It was a lot easier to fake being enthusiastic talking with Daniel then it was sitting by himself, trying to remember a single word of the script he’d just been looking at.
The phone rang again.
”Daniel, I told you – I’ll call.”
“Vince? Sorry, mate, it’s Orli. If this is a bad time, I can call back later. It’s just I only now found your number, although I’ve been searching like mad for weeks. And Dom wouldn’t ask that friend of yours for it, said he wasn’t my bloody secretary. Anyway, I’m in town for the weekend and thought I’d give you a ring, see if you wanted to go get a pizza with me. But you know, if you’ve got plans?”
“No!” Vince burst out. He started laughing. “I mean, no it’s not a bad time and I don’t have anything that can’t be put off until after I get something to eat. Meet me in thirty?”
“Better make it twenty – I’ll give you the directions. I’m absolutely famished. And I’ve got a new plan to discuss with you.”
Vince hung up the phone, a small wave of giddiness running through him. He flipped the beer cap into the air, caught it on the way down. Slipped it into his pocket, humming softly to himself. Plans, he decided, were good things to have.