Pairing: All of the LOTR Cast at some stage or another
Rating: PG13-NC17
Summary: Please read the AN below.
Warnings: Bad language, stereotypes, bad jokes etc. Angst in this one, so handkies ready
Author's Notes: A daytime soap opera mission/quest/thing. Being the day-to-day story of ordinary movie star folk in their run-of-the-mill luxury men only complex in LA. "Hamlet: The Musical" does not exist as far as I know.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. No profit is made nor offence intended.
Episode Eight
The One Where Gustav Gets Giddy
Scene: Gatehouse of the Man Solo Complex
Gustav lays down his copy of "Stun Gun Guys" and peers at the car waiting at the barrier. An airport rental. He checks the guest list for the complex - Tobey Maguire had been slated for a visit by his agent and said agent's credentials had been duly supplied, including height, weight and shoe size. No one, no one got into Man Solo who wasn't supposed to be there. And no female - ever. The agent had, in fact, cried off at the last minute and apart from him there are no visitors expected.
So who is this joker, thinking he's getting in?
Gustav has worked for Man Solo for six years, and loves his job. Never more so than when he gets to "check credentials". He checks his reflection in the little mirror by the door of the gatehouse before walking - swaggering - over to the car. It's occupant sits patiently waiting.
"Excuse me, sir, what business do you have here?" asks Gustav, leaning down to look in. He prepares his best sneering, condescending glare, the one which recently had Hayden Christensen quaking in his boots. But it falls flat off his face onto the sidewalk.
"I am here to see Sean Bean. Can you tell him I am here, please?"
Gustav has seen some gorgeous guys. Lots of them, especially round here. Hell, at least a dozen of the most beautiful men in the world are living right here in the complex, and most of them like to sunbathe in the nude. But this guy?
"Who shall I say is stunning? I mean, what game shall I say?... I mean, who the fuck are you?" Gustav is trembling now. His hand on the car door is shaking.
The man passes a card over. He has a world weary air.
Gustav bows, realises that is just ridiculous and tries to recover his dignity. He squares his shoulders on the walk back to the gatehouse and has calmed down a little by the time he picks up the phone.
After a couple of rings, Sean Bean answers. "Yeah, Bean here."
"Mr. Bean, sir. You have a visitor. A -" he pauses to read from the card, "Martin Csokass."
"Actually, it's pronounced Martone Sokas, the "C" is silent.."
Gustav thinks "Damn right the "C" is silent, cos he never heard him get out of the fricking car, and now he's here in the gatehouse and suddenly it seems very, very cramped. And hot.
"Is that Marton with you? Send him over!" shouts Bean over the phone, and Gustav nods.
"Will do, Mr. Bean, will do." He licks his lips and puts down the phone. "I'll just have to take down what you're wearing... I mean, write down a few details. Height, weight, blood group, that sort of thing, for the records.."
Marton yawns. He leans over from his great height to watch as Gustav writes in a shaky hand in the Man Solo visitors book.
"You have lovely eyes," he says, and reads the name badge on the pristine maroon uniform, "Gustav. Both of them, really lovely.."
"Thank you, Mr. Csokas, sir," Gustav is very careful of the pronunciation. He feels hot breath on his neck.
"Six three." Marton says, evenly, softly.
"What?"
"My height, for your little tick box there - six feet three inches."
Gustav completes the rest of the form in record time. He loves his job, it pays phenomenally well to ensure discretion and privacy. He will not jeopardise it just because he suddenly wants very much to be shagged hard and dirty over the polished desk until his uniform buttons ping off one by one...
"I'll raise it for you - the barrier, I'll raise the barrier!" he says, foregoing all the usual formalities. If he attempts a strip search of this man he will lose his job for sure.
"Thanks, Gustav. You've been really helpful. I'll see you around," Marton pats him companionably on the shoulder and shimmies back to his rental.
Watching the disappearing car from inside the gatehouse, Gustav fumbles quickly for "Stun Gun Guys" and then the top button of his uniform pants.
_________\o/_________
Scene: Sean Bean's apartment.
Over a beer, Sean and Marton laugh raucously at Gustav's expense.
"You bastard! Gustav is a prick but a loyal and useful one," says Sean.
"I couldn't resist. He was so easy," Marton chugs back a beer, and stretches out his long legs.
"So, why are you here, Marton? Not that I'm complaining, mind."
"I came looking for Harry. Last I heard he was with you," Marton stares into his beer. It is a fact little known to females the world over that the answer to many of life's mysteries can be found in such receptacles.
"Well, he were here, yes, but he left, Marton," says Sean. He had been expecting this.
"Oh. Where did he go?" asks the Kiwi, casually crushing the now empty can.
Sean sighs. Marton's temper is legendary.
"Well, fact is he's staying with Orlando," Sean says the words and fixes his eyes firmly on the floor. He waits for the explosion.
"Wanker! He had the hots for him in New Zealand! But Orlando was with John Noble then and Harry was with Karl. Then John finished with Orlando and got cosy with Bernard. Then Harry had that big bust up with Karl, you remember?"
"Strewth, yes. Harry threw all Karl's sex toys in the industrial shredder!" Sean is laughing, cracking open two more beers.
"Yep. Anyway, so Harry thought he had a chance with Orlando but straight off the fricking elf moves in on Liv!"
Both men shudder. That was just so wrong, a total aberration which Orlando has tried to live down for the past eighteen months.
"But me and Harry, we've been together now for nearly a year. A year, Sean! And then he ups and walks out, jumps on a plane and never even a goodbye note," Marton turns his big, soulful eyes on the Yorkshireman.
"Oh, Marton, I'm sorry. He just rang and asked if he could stay. I guessed summat were up, but I had no idea what," says Sean, stroking Marton's arm.
"He wanted commitment, Sean. He wanted the whole nine yards, the ceremony in the woods and the flowers and cake. I just wanted hot sex."
There is a silence. Marton is thinking about the vows Harry had started to compose, the poetry readings, the music he had picked out... Sean is thinking of hot sex.
"What can I say? He were here for a few days, then he linked up with Orlando and moved in with him. I think a long term relationship were the last thing on his mind, he just wanted to shag Orlando senseless. Mebbe he wanted to relive his bachelor days?" Sean remembers how Harry had gone after Orlando like a steamroller. Unfrickinstoppable.
"He's here, still? On the complex?" asks Marton, perking up.
"We don't need any trouble, Marton!"
"But I want him back, Sean! I want to explain that if its commitment he wants he can have it!" Marton's eyes are pleading now, his chest heaving.
"Marton! Get a grip! He's with Orlando. And in all honesty, I think they flew off to Acapulco for a couple of days. Sorry."
"Oh Sean!" Marton crumples and Sean sighs. It seems like only yesterday he was having to comfort Dominic over Billy. Come to think of it, it was only yesterday. And all that had gotten him was a wet shirt and a dead arm. Dominic had gone back off to Billy's to sort things out and left Sean with a gigantic, neglected woody.
And the trouble is that Sean has always fancied Marton. Even when Sean was with Astin and the sex was great, he had fancied Marton. He surreptitiously eyes the heavy muscle rippling away beneath the tasteful shirt.
"So, you just wanted hot sex with him? Is that right? I just want to get the story right in my head, see." Sean hands over a fresh beer.
"Well, not just that. I liked being with the guy. He's a good cook, you know. But, yep, hot sex. I mean, maybe its not particularly hot to you, but it was hot to us. But there were some things he wouldn't do, wouldn't budge on, in fact." Marton has a glazed look in his eyes now. Sean shifts position to accommodate his growing bulge, and takes a big drink.
"Such as? Give me an example. I mean, if you want to, of course," he says, idly, fiddling with a loose thread in his shirt.
"Oh, well, the usual stuff. I mean, well, dressing up stuff.." Marton shifts on the couch, too. He finds his nails very intriguing.
"Dressing up stuff? I see? you wanted him to wear a dress?" asks Sean.
"God no! Not him! Me, Sean. I wanted him to shag me while I was in costume and he just refused point blank.."
"In costume? As Celeborn, you mean? You wanted him to shag you while you were dressed like an Elf?" Sean can picture how hot that would be. That dress of Marton's on the Lorien set had been just lovely.
"No, not Celeborn's costume!"
"Oh. Well, whatever."
Sean reaches a decision. He leans over and kisses Marton fully on that full mouth, savouring the little gasp of surprise. Marton responds almost immediately, grasping Sean's hair in needy hands, pulling him in. Tongues tango and manly chest craves manly chest. Hands move frantically to open shirts and prise open the fastenings of two pairs of jeans. Marton uses his extra four inches of height to good advantage, pinning Sean beneath him. Hardness rocks against hardness and it is just so damned good!
"Oh Sean! That was so what I needed, mate, and I didn't even know it!" Marton's eyes are shimmering with lust as he pulls away to regain some necessary oxygen.
"Wait here," Sean pants, suddenly flipping the Kiwi off of him and onto the floor. "I have a number for Fantasies R Us. They can have something over here in a half hour. I mean, that's what I'm told, anyway. Just tell em what you want and let's go for it!"
"Oh, Sean. Are you sure about this? I mean, I find you incredibly attractive, but we've never even-"
"Well, if you don't want to.."
"Where's the phone, Sean?"
_________\o/_________
Scene: Ian McKellen's apartment
"Ian. You look gorgeous tonight," his visitor raises the champagne glass to his full, oh-so-kissable, lips and sips.
Ian beams.
"Thank you, dearest. Its from Kaftans R Us on Rodeo Drive." He gives a twirl to fully show off the lilac silk, then collapses giggling onto the sofa with his guest. He has a very becoming blush starting on his face, which sets off his twinkling blue eyes.
"Music? Maybe some "Hamlet: The Musical"? I love that show," says his companion, stroking Ian's wrist softly.
"Oh, perfect! Just a mo, darling!" and he is up and skittering across to the CD player. As the music begins, he feels strong arms wrap around his waist, turning him. Blue eyes stare up at him, probing him.
"You're sure you want this, Ian?"
"Oh yes. I have been patient, but even my patience isn't limitless. I have waited for Nick for weeks and I am fed up of waiting! I need this very much, love."
The kiss is tender and exploratory at first, then deeper and more passionate.
Making it back to the sofa, the two lovers struggle with their clothing and gasp as each inch of flesh is revealed. Ian's voluminous kaftan is discarded on the rug and soon he is enveloped in a hot and needy mouth, igniting his nipples, his neck, the crook of his elbow.
"Oh, oh, oh.." he murmurs.
"Is it good?" the question comes out as more of a little grunt than anything else.
"Good? It's wonderful! Take me, Tobey! Take me, now!"
_________\o/_________
Scene: Sean's apartment
The box lies on the couch, unopened. It was delivered a few minutes ago by the costumier from Fantasies R Us.
Sean and Marton both eye the large white container as if it might contain a poisonous snake.
"Well? Are we doing this or what?" asks Sean at last, draining his fourth beer of the evening.
"Are you sure, Sean? I mean, I don't want to pressure into something that doesn't feel right.."
"Go in the bedroom, Marton, and get that clobber off and get that costume on. Just do it, will you. Call me when you're ready."
Glancing out of the balcony window, Sean reflects on the beauty of a Californian sunset, its myriad colours and the smudgy way the sun catches the smog in the valley. It's really very pretty. He can see the gatehouse from here. And just for a bare instant, a fraction of a second, he believes he can see the glint of a telescopic lens... naw, he's getting paranoid. Three divorces can do that to a man.
"Sean.."
Sean makes his way to the bedroom. Whatever awaits promises to be - interesting.
"Coming right in," he calls out as he opens the door. "Brace yourself, Xena.."