Light

Light

Posted: May 2005
Title: Light
Author: Helena Snow-Renn
Fandom: Real Person Fiction
Type: RPS
Characters: David/Orlando
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: As always, this is fiction. It never happened.
Warnings: A little Orlando-googling. Backstory references.
Spoilers: Slight KoH Spoilers.
Beta: None, but look-through by lady_aurora
Summary: David's observations and reactions to Orlando as he attends the KoH premier.
Author's Notes: Uh, I wanted to see if I was capable of writing something that wasn ' t all smut. Thanks for bearing with me. No idea what David ' s real middle name is. Couldn ' t find it anywhere online. If you know for sure, speak!

*****

The fierce black glare, soft as steel, unyielding as quicksand, ran him through.

For a moment, he didn't even know where he was. Oh, yeah. Sydney. Kingdom of Heaven premier.

How the hell had he been talked into this? Fucking agents, always sending you out to premiers and junket stops in support of former co-stars. David knew that drill well enough, had been doing it for years now. It was just part of the show. That didn't mean that he had to like it. But there he was, in his best black suit and all.

Musing, Dave realized he still thought of Orlando as 'little,' even though he was just an inch short of six feet and was pushing thirty now. Christ, was that even possible? Sure, it was. Dave had better than a decade on him. Below, on the floor, front and center, the Aussie could see the "boy's" long straightened mahogany hair, above shoulders broader than he recalled. The man was gracious, smiling and warm before the lights were dimmed. In his balcony seat, Dave had purposefully avoided the crowd around him, wanting to make his own observations.

So, the movie credits started, followed by a written prologue. The first scene opened in an incredibly rocky and bleak county burial ground. He hadn't known that the one left behind in grief would be Balian, Orlando. Dave had done his share of broody, and he knew it wasn't really the state of the younger man's fun-loving psyche... but it still hit him like a shit-load of bricks. Dark intensity, tortured bottomless angst.... Orlando had been taking lessons somewhere, to pack that kind of a punch behind his stony 'I'm-not-talking' glower. The redhead had to look away from the screen several times in those first few minutes. It reminded him too much of the incident where-in the owner of those eyes had put the two of them before a mirror, mounted him from behind, and ridden his near-virgin ass so hard, so cunningly, Dave blew his wad all over that same sheet of glass while he watched himself being taken and taken and taken.

But, Dave had to keep reminding himself, he hadn't come here to perv tonight. Beforehand, in fact, he'd sternly told his various parts they were not to be heard from. It was a blessing really, that most of the sexy bits had been cut out. Ten seconds of seeing Balian with that woman had him throbbing in his pants, and he was glad for the darkness.

It was those firm pink lips that got to him first. Worse than the lithe new masculinity, worse than the brief flashes of his bare chest and the surprising bulges of his upper arms... there was still that same dip and dent in the middle of his lips, as if when Orlando was still a fetus, not fully formed, he'd spent time in the womb pressing his tiny balled fist against his baby mouth. Even when his lips were closed, unless he was pressing them tight together out of agitation, they weren't quite sealed. Unlike often-described, Orlando's mouth, in Dave's opinion, was not wide until he smiled, and his lips were not 'full,' not even when swollen from... Don't even go there, David James Wenham.

Even back in his Elf days, Orlando used to grow a little scruffy facial hair when they had breaks. Now in full beard, or as full of beard as Orlando's rather hairless physique would muster... well, it was the black moustache that really screamed at Dave. Ruefully, he rubbed a hand over his own fuzzy cheeks and chin. His facial hair had grown long enough that it was no longer bristly, but soft. What, he wondered, would it be like to kiss the pliant, demanding, smart-ass mouth now? Dave chased the errant thought from his head before he royally embarrassed himself. There was at least another hour or more left of this before. He'd better concentrate. It wouldn't do to not even have a general clue of how the film ended.

At the reception following, there were several familiar faces with whom to discuss the film and to just stand around with and bullshit. Dave wouldn't have said he was avoiding the leading man. He'd seen Orlando's movies, just as he'd seen Karl's and Sean's and Cate's and Elijah's and so forth. Being here was just professional courtesy. And besides, they'd all been one big family once... it was just natural, they all wished each other well. He'd not really thought about Orlando so very much, not really.

But tonight, well... it was all becoming one big flashback. His time with Orlando had been exuberantly raunchy, but short, and very, very casual. There'd been no commitment, no break-up... Dave just finished his work and that had been it. They hadn't gone in for a reunion fuck like so many of their compatriots had. There'd been other preoccupations, especially in Dave's arena.

From across the room came these vibes. Could've been simply his own unease in that general direction, too. Orlando had spotted him. A carefully-crafted smile quickly covered a momentary smirk, and Dave knew right then he wouldn't be leaving soon. Still, it was almost two hours later before they got within spitting distance of each other.

The minute they touched each other, Dave had to start counting all the favors he got with no one the wiser. The obligatory hug. The splayed hand running down the length of his back. A slight turn of head to bump him with cheekbone, a whuff of warm breath against his neck, the subtle shift of stance and a nudge of leg between his knees. Orlando managed all this within the space of five seconds. As they let go of each other, Orlando's exotic almond eyes flashed enigmatic fire, fire Dave certainly felt an answer for somewhere inside himself. They bantered just as form dictated, for short minutes till others demanded of 'the star.' Laying his hand on Dave's arm for a moment, he turned away.

The Aussie took a deep breath in, and let it out. Where had all these expectations come from, in the last three hours? He didn't want that. After the last filming in NZ was over, he'd waded out into the ocean and sworn off men. It had to have been some kind of temporary insanity, a tropical fever or some such, how they'd all carried on as if the answers to all the questions, the meaning of life, and the absolute truth of love was someone's dick up someone's arse. Not that Dave was in favor of enforced celibacy. On the contrary. He was a firm believer in live and let live, now more than ever. He'd just needed to be 'let live' for a while.

When the Princess Sybilla had said to Balian, "Here in the East... between two people there is light..." or something similar, without recalling the exact wording, it had caught hold, appearing and reappearing across his thoughts. Light. Between him and Orlando there'd been light. It wasn't regrets or simply just animal lusting, nor was it really love other than the brotherly love they all shared (he hushed that reference for another introspective night). He just stood, dazed and a little bit drunk, and thought about the Light. It had appeared in Balian's black, void eyes as things progressed, spark by spark. The Light...the warmth... the warmth of another human being... Orlando's breath feathering his skin... heat... yes, that too. It wasn't as if he was going to have to walk about this ritzy theatre with a monster hard-on, at least he had that much control... but he had come to the understanding of Orlando's desire for him, and he returned it. Even if they were not together tonight or ever again, it did count for something, after all.

Up close, Orlando had been the same. And different. Just as he was unquestionably attracted to the man Balian, so Dave was drawn to the man Orlando. He was still wearing the beard, as well as the long, though definitely much more well-groomed hair than his Medieval counterpart. Dave found he was trembling. Before, he'd thought he'd stay, but the idea of how much this was getting to him was disconcerting. Maybe he should leave, after all. For sure, he needed a smoke. Disoriented after his ruminations, he turned about. The doorway was only going to be reached through a tangled crowd; Dave began to weed through it.

A hand on one shoulder pulled him back; a familiar voice mocked, "And where do you think you're going?"

"Uh..." Dave didn't know how to say he was ditching without it being taken personally. He turned and faced his former lover.

"Trying to escape unnoticed, were you?" Orlando laughed. "No such luck for you. I've got this room we can go to..." he colored slightly, a subtle darkening of his olive complexion. "It's here... they set it up... it's like a green room almost, so I can talk to people in private."

Dave allowed the dark-haired man to lead him across the lobby and down a short, relatively empty hallway. The door shut behind Orlando with a soft snick. They were alone. He'd thought he was ready for it, but when Orlando approached, Dave backed away and abruptly sat on one of the few chairs in the little room. Orlando paused for moment, then sat, too, in the chair next to Dave, which he hitched around so they once again faced.

"'S so good to see you, mate. Thanks for being here."

"Wouldn't miss it," the Aussie smiled nervously. "You were really first-rate, by the way. It seems strange, maybe, but... you do angst very well."

Orlando's eyes crinkled at the corners. The smile-lines flashed in his cheeks. Dimples, technically, but to Dave they were more elusive than that. "Who would've thought, yeah? But... wasn't so hard, really. There's something malevolent in me, I think, at times." His deep brown eyes darted to the side, then back to Dave's face. "No, I channeled." He snorted. "Or I'm still holding grudges and broke a few cameras glaring at them." He smiled wider. Dave caught a glimpse of the pink inside of Orlando's mouth. His brain lurched.

"Funny..." he said anyway. "Very funny. The years have been nice to you." He blushed as it tumbled from his mouth. Damn fucking fair skin.

Orlando rolled his eyes. His smile unfurled just a little more. "What are we... sixty, seventy, eighty years old?"

Dave let the obvious answer pass, and grinned self-effacingly. "It's just... it seems like yesterday... and a very long time ago."

"Yeah, I hear yah." The long slender fingers reached out and stroked the side of David's face, with the nap of his beard. "I like this on you, Davie..." his voice lowered and his sparkling jet pupils dilated.

It had been a long time since anyone had called Dave that. "Or-lee," he answered, stressing the latter syllable. "Thank you... and ... yours as well." He hesitated. Did he really want to try this, what could be a simple quick touch, or god knew...? Finally, he watched his freckled hand raise to Orli's face, and cup the soft, downy cheek. He brushed his thumb across the trimmed black hairs over the slightly curled upper lip, then across the silk-ribbon mouth itself.

Orlando's eyelids dropped; his midnight lashes matching his moustache but much finer. He nuzzled his face into Dave's palm. "Mmmm..." It was a sensual, appreciative sound. Dave's breathing hitched and quickened.

The Brit's eyes snapped open. "For old times, David, please," he said simply. He held out his hand; a room key-card lay on his palm. "712. Up to you. No pressure." Leaning back slightly, he broke their contact. "They'll be pounding down the door any second. I've gotta get back." He swallowed, and tilted his head curiously. That look was pure Elf if Dave had ever seen it. "But please do," he finished, and stood to leave.

Dave, heart racing and a credit card shaped key in his hand, still warm from being in the other man's pocket, did likewise a beat later. With a deep breath so noisy that Orlando paused in his turning to go, Dave allowed, as much to himself as to the brunette, "Yeah, I'll be there... but..."

Orlando's neat eyebrows pushed together and up in the middle of his forehead, an expression Dave would have thought he'd have outgrown by now. "You wanted something?" Small, even teeth shown whitely. So taken in by their precise symmetry was he that David didn't even notice his tongue had somehow gotten between them till a slim, aggressive tongue danced its way into his mouth. Four strong and capable hands alighted on firm, rounded buttcheeks, though Dave got one of his tingling nipples pinched hard in passing. Even then, someone pounded on the door, and Orlando simply lowered his arms, while the older man jumped like a startled jackrabbit.

"Twitchy, Davie?"

David was busy blinking away the exploding sensations from his skin and the flashes of light from behind his eyelids. He shrugged what he hoped was a passably blasé acknowledgment.

"Well, don't worry. I won't hurt you." What the hell? There were about a hundred ways to take that. No time to ask, much less answer. Orlando mouthed, 'Thirty minutes," even as he opened the door and was whisked away through it.

The validity of the statement, though, Dave had no problem believing now. Orlando was as good as his word; time had proven so. He made strong attachments, and friendships, and relationships, without ever being complicated. There was no need to fear for his heart. The younger man had as much as said they could take freely from each other for tonight, with no strings. Same as before. The redhead was already imagining having the much more substantial man's body below him, above him, before and behind him, around him and in him. Dave, for one, could attest to the fact that Orlando knew what he was doing when it came to sex. He would be thorough, zealous even, but there would be no physical hurts. Was it the same as being handed the keys to his body and soul? No. Neither of them had found that answer yet. But in the interim, there would be Light between them.

*****

THE END

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