were you born sideways? did you learn to rotate? and to hold your spin unafraid?


Spin (LOTR RPS. Orlando/Viggo/Sean. soft R.)




unafraid of words, so release them // on a stage, in a play that you make // other words will betray if repeated // it's not the day-to-day // were you born sideways? did you learn to rotate? and to hold your spin unafraid? (--now it's overhead, "hold your spin")




Orlando likes to slide his hands around Viggo’s stomach, under his shirts; his hands are always cold, and Viggo shivers when they trace patterns on his skin. Orlando vibrates all the time, millions of Mexican jumping beans under his skin leaping out to Viggo.

Viggo is calm, but that doesn’t transfer when Viggo smooths his fingers over Orland’s cold skin. The heat transfers, though, and when Orlando’s body arches into his, it burns.

Orlando likes firm strokes, and to be held down. Viggo presses his legs to Orlando’s, and wonders if this is why Orlando comes to him. Orlando could get sex from anyone, but only Sean or Viggo are strong enough to counterbalance his lithe Elf frame. Only Sean and Viggo are strong enough to push him past his shame, push him into sweat and movement and unselfconscious sex.

Viggo doesn’t understand it, the shame, doesn’t understand how someone so comfortable with himself can be so uncomfortable with his own pleasure. Sean is no help on that score—Orlando is a beautiful woman to Sean, who just happens to have a cock Sean likes to suck. Viggo has to wonder: what does Sean tell himself when Orlando isn’t there?

Orlando likes to watch Sean and Viggo together. At least, that’s what Viggo thinks. Why else would he pull their heads together and watch their mouths fuse? Sean’s mouth always tastes like beer, even though Viggo knows he doesn’t drink even half as much as everyone thinks. None of them do, really, not since the incident with the Feet and the goopy glue and PJ losing his temper. Maybe none of this would have happened if alcohol had been involved; they all would have passed out before they got past accidentally-on-purpose brushing against each other. Orlando’s tentative exploration of Viggo’s boundaries was actually what drew Viggo in—the anticipation, the lure of the untouched. Sean.

Viggo notices that Sean comes to him without Orlando, but never to Orlando without him, not anymore. Sean has big, big, big hands—bigger than Viggo’s. Viggo wants to be able to remember when he first noticed this, but he doesn’t. He’s sure it was some time during sex, when Sean’s hand was wrapped firmly around his cock, and Sean’s own cock was somewhere in the depths of Viggo’s ass, making him grunt and groan. Sean’s grip is always sure, and when Viggo watches him kiss Orlando, he feels the grey curl of jealousy in the bottom of his throat.

Orlando likes to be held afterward, and Viggo leaves this to Sean. Viggo cannot reassure anyone that the world isn’t coming to an end just because sex is weird—sex is always weird and the world is always ending and Viggo’s shoulders aren’t broad enough to hold up the falling sky.

Viggo doesn’t like fucking in the dark, but Sean won’t turn on the lights. There’s a metaphor there; a song, a canvas. Viggo wants to photograph Orlando against Sean—dark against pale, slight against big, fine against rough, but they would never. This cannot be real, this cannot be lit, this cannot be anything but what it is, and whatever it isn't just doesn't exist for them. And Viggo knows Orlando is like a conduit for their desires; he amplifies everything. Viggo cannot be sure that what he feels is really his own. He could be feeling Aragorn—he could be feeling anything. The scent of Orlando’s skin intensifies as he gets hotter and hotter, he pushes his hips against Sean’s almost drunkenly, he smells like desperation.

Orlando likes to fall asleep stuck together by sweat and semen, the heat billowing off his body in waves. It’s these times, overheated and overstimulated, when Viggo dreams of death and destruction and grey concrete covering mountains, but he always wakes up to Sean’s eyes on his and Sean’s hands on his body. When Orlando wakes up, it’s like nothing happened, his skin is cold—but when shooting’s been particularly rough, or the weather particularly dismal, Orlando will slide into Viggo and let Viggo’s hands clasp his wrists slightly too hard, and they’ll do it again.