hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2005-11-15 12:13 pm
hackthis_archive) wrote2005-11-15 12:13 pm
RPS - Jake Gyllenhaal/Orlando Bloom -- Somewhere Between Vacationland and Elizabethtown
Life Rule #4: If you say you will do anything, you will inevitably wind up committed to doing the last thing you could ever want to do, excluding furries, bestiality and mpreg -- but because I always keep my word…
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nutty_elf,
Jake Gyllenhaal/Orlando Bloom
Rated M for mature perverts, or something like that
500 words and some change (1045 to be exact)
Somewhere Between Vacationland and Elizabethtown
The best laid plans are the ones that don't tend to work out. Ever.
For example: Jake flew to Lexington to see Kirsten, because, well, he needed to get laid. Crass, but true. He missed her, of course, and her endless chatter and her crooked smile -- but mostly, Jake missed getting laid on a regular basis.
He missed Atticus, and Los Angeles, and Maggie, and he missed being with someone who wasn't Pete, because living with one person for five months in a Mexican hotel was just cruel. Mostly, though, Jake missed sex.
So, seeing his girlfriend, and having sex with his girlfriend was Jake's plan up until he walked onto the set of Elizabethtown and met Orlando Bloom. And then, like most plans do, that plan got shot to hell.
*
Jake didn't mean to kiss Orlando -– it just kind of happened. The cast and crew were having drinks, and Jake was just there for the weekend, he could have a drink or six. Or eight. He hadn't planned on doing shots. No one had bothered to tell him about the English capacity for drink. But then there was alcohol, and more alcohol, and staggering, and the hugging of bartops. Orlando had volunteered to take him home, because Kirsten was still "bonding" with their cast mates, and somewhere between the bar and Orlando's car, Jake tripped and his mouth fell against Orlando's mouth. Really. That's a true story.
Sort of.
*
There are all sorts of rules in Hollywood about who can fuck who, and who should fuck who, and who shouldn't fuck who, but Jake's never been really good with rules. He thinks it probably has a lot to do with his parents being so liberal, and Maggie being so crazy, and going to Harvard-Westlake, because prep schools are total breeding grounds for subversion and cracked-out behaviour.
Yeah, making out with your girlfriend's co-star, when you've expressly flown out to visit her, can definitely be filed under "cracked-out behaviour" –- but Jake will worry about that after he and Orlando stop making out behind the make-up trailer. And they're going to stop, any minute, except that Orlando's got this really soft mouth and really sharp teeth. Orli's breath is hot against Jake's chin and his cheeks and his neck, and he's got these really long fingers that always seem to know exactly where Jake wants to be touched, or grappled, or stroked.
It's not like Jake flew out to Lexington just to seduce -- or be seduced by -- Orlando Bloom. It just sort of happened. These things happen on movie sets all the time though, anyone will tell you that. So, Jake is going to file this under that Oops! Heading just as soon as Orlando stops squeezing his ass and muttering filthy things in that really hot accent of his.
This is totally a one time thing. It'll never happen again. It's probably just the heat –- the heat always makes people do weird things.
*
Jake has lots of love to go around. He loves his parents and Maggie. He loves Pete when he doesn't want to skin him alive. Jake loves his friends, who still remember when he wasn't famous at all and didn't like to talk much at parties. Most importantly, right now, Jake loves Kirsten. He loves her crooked teeth and ratty hair. He loves how low-maintenance she is and how much she just doesn't seem to care what he does when they're not together.
He thinks she would mind knowing that he's giving Orli a blow job on the sofa in her trailer -- purely for hygienic reasons -- but what she doesn't know cannot possibly hurt her. Or him. Yeah, Jake is feeling no pain, except for the hinge of his jaw aching a little bit, but that's what happens when you give blow jobs.
*
There's an Eminem song that goes something profane something profane tripped, fell, and landed on his dick. Jake doesn't quite remember how that goes right now, because his head is a little light and the synapses aren't firing so well -– things like that happen to him when people suck his dick.
It's not because Orlando's sucking his cock –- it could be anybody. Jake's notoriously stupid after sex, which is why he has to stop banging his head against the wall of Orlando's trailer. With all the rocking, someone is going to come knocking, and yeah, Jake's not here for this. He just stopped by to say "Hi". Right.
Hi, nice to see you again, suck my cock.
Jake doesn't know if that's a line in a Eminem song too, but it sounds like it should be.
*
Jake's a twenty-something, healthy, American male, who is currently shooting a war movie in Mexico. And Arizona. He's just gone through boot camp. He's in the best shape of his life -- except for all the chain-smoking -- so there's absolutely no reason for him to feel as though he's about to collapse from exhaustion. Except that things like that happen when you've got a randy girlfriend, and you're fucking her co-star on the side.
Jake's been in Kentucky for four days and received eight blow jobs, given three, gotten his girlfriend off with his mouth and fingers four times, been fucked twice, and fucked someone else seven times.
He's been a busy man.
He honestly doesn't think he can get it up again for Orlando, but apparently all sorts of things can happen when someone does, actually, trip and land on your dick –- as long as you have lots of lubrication handy.
*
It's the great fear of every cheating man that he get caught with his pants down around his ankles by his significant other, but Jake and Kirsten have an arrangement. Plus, it's Jake's last day in Kentucky; he's due back on the Jarhead set first thing tomorrow. So, when Kirsten opens the door of her trailer and finds Orlando jerking Jake off, she just rolls her eyes.
"This may be a vacation for you," she says, motioning for them to hurry up, "but I have to work here."
Jake comes, whether it's from Orli's ministrations or his girlfriend's smirking mouth, he doesn't really care. None of this is going the way he planned it -– it's actually a hell of a lot better.
--end--
For
nutty_elf,Jake Gyllenhaal/Orlando Bloom
Rated M for mature perverts, or something like that
500 words and some change (1045 to be exact)
The best laid plans are the ones that don't tend to work out. Ever.
For example: Jake flew to Lexington to see Kirsten, because, well, he needed to get laid. Crass, but true. He missed her, of course, and her endless chatter and her crooked smile -- but mostly, Jake missed getting laid on a regular basis.
He missed Atticus, and Los Angeles, and Maggie, and he missed being with someone who wasn't Pete, because living with one person for five months in a Mexican hotel was just cruel. Mostly, though, Jake missed sex.
So, seeing his girlfriend, and having sex with his girlfriend was Jake's plan up until he walked onto the set of Elizabethtown and met Orlando Bloom. And then, like most plans do, that plan got shot to hell.
Jake didn't mean to kiss Orlando -– it just kind of happened. The cast and crew were having drinks, and Jake was just there for the weekend, he could have a drink or six. Or eight. He hadn't planned on doing shots. No one had bothered to tell him about the English capacity for drink. But then there was alcohol, and more alcohol, and staggering, and the hugging of bartops. Orlando had volunteered to take him home, because Kirsten was still "bonding" with their cast mates, and somewhere between the bar and Orlando's car, Jake tripped and his mouth fell against Orlando's mouth. Really. That's a true story.
Sort of.
There are all sorts of rules in Hollywood about who can fuck who, and who should fuck who, and who shouldn't fuck who, but Jake's never been really good with rules. He thinks it probably has a lot to do with his parents being so liberal, and Maggie being so crazy, and going to Harvard-Westlake, because prep schools are total breeding grounds for subversion and cracked-out behaviour.
Yeah, making out with your girlfriend's co-star, when you've expressly flown out to visit her, can definitely be filed under "cracked-out behaviour" –- but Jake will worry about that after he and Orlando stop making out behind the make-up trailer. And they're going to stop, any minute, except that Orlando's got this really soft mouth and really sharp teeth. Orli's breath is hot against Jake's chin and his cheeks and his neck, and he's got these really long fingers that always seem to know exactly where Jake wants to be touched, or grappled, or stroked.
It's not like Jake flew out to Lexington just to seduce -- or be seduced by -- Orlando Bloom. It just sort of happened. These things happen on movie sets all the time though, anyone will tell you that. So, Jake is going to file this under that Oops! Heading just as soon as Orlando stops squeezing his ass and muttering filthy things in that really hot accent of his.
This is totally a one time thing. It'll never happen again. It's probably just the heat –- the heat always makes people do weird things.
Jake has lots of love to go around. He loves his parents and Maggie. He loves Pete when he doesn't want to skin him alive. Jake loves his friends, who still remember when he wasn't famous at all and didn't like to talk much at parties. Most importantly, right now, Jake loves Kirsten. He loves her crooked teeth and ratty hair. He loves how low-maintenance she is and how much she just doesn't seem to care what he does when they're not together.
He thinks she would mind knowing that he's giving Orli a blow job on the sofa in her trailer -- purely for hygienic reasons -- but what she doesn't know cannot possibly hurt her. Or him. Yeah, Jake is feeling no pain, except for the hinge of his jaw aching a little bit, but that's what happens when you give blow jobs.
There's an Eminem song that goes something profane something profane tripped, fell, and landed on his dick. Jake doesn't quite remember how that goes right now, because his head is a little light and the synapses aren't firing so well -– things like that happen to him when people suck his dick.
It's not because Orlando's sucking his cock –- it could be anybody. Jake's notoriously stupid after sex, which is why he has to stop banging his head against the wall of Orlando's trailer. With all the rocking, someone is going to come knocking, and yeah, Jake's not here for this. He just stopped by to say "Hi". Right.
Hi, nice to see you again, suck my cock.
Jake doesn't know if that's a line in a Eminem song too, but it sounds like it should be.
Jake's a twenty-something, healthy, American male, who is currently shooting a war movie in Mexico. And Arizona. He's just gone through boot camp. He's in the best shape of his life -- except for all the chain-smoking -- so there's absolutely no reason for him to feel as though he's about to collapse from exhaustion. Except that things like that happen when you've got a randy girlfriend, and you're fucking her co-star on the side.
Jake's been in Kentucky for four days and received eight blow jobs, given three, gotten his girlfriend off with his mouth and fingers four times, been fucked twice, and fucked someone else seven times.
He's been a busy man.
He honestly doesn't think he can get it up again for Orlando, but apparently all sorts of things can happen when someone does, actually, trip and land on your dick –- as long as you have lots of lubrication handy.
It's the great fear of every cheating man that he get caught with his pants down around his ankles by his significant other, but Jake and Kirsten have an arrangement. Plus, it's Jake's last day in Kentucky; he's due back on the Jarhead set first thing tomorrow. So, when Kirsten opens the door of her trailer and finds Orlando jerking Jake off, she just rolls her eyes.
"This may be a vacation for you," she says, motioning for them to hurry up, "but I have to work here."
Jake comes, whether it's from Orli's ministrations or his girlfriend's smirking mouth, he doesn't really care. None of this is going the way he planned it -– it's actually a hell of a lot better.
--end--
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Jamie Bamber in a towel the right person to sort him out?
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I think that is an excellent idea. Oh, yes.
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He hates waiting in airports, and he hates waiting on taxis, and he hates waiting for his laptop to boot up when he checks his email. (He never hated waiting on Kirsten that much, at least not to begin with. But that's another story.) He hates waiting for his agent to call him back, and he hates this fucking line that he's standing in now, waiting on his mocha frappucino.
Everyone in the line is really polite, though. Maybe it's a Canadian thing. There's no pushing, and no complaining, until someone taps his elbow, and coughs modestly.
"Excuse me." The voice is soft and cool and very English, and Jake is forced to turn around, just to see what kind of guy goes with that voice. "I know you've probably been queuing for ages. It's just that they're about to call my flight."
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*stares more*
OMGWTFYOULOVEME!111111!!!!!!!1!!!!
<3333333333333333333333
*bounces up and down*
Let there be more? Please to the Lords of Kobol let there be more. So say we all!
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"Fucking hell!" he yells, and he's out of his seat before he recognises the guy, or rather he recognises the voice that's furiously apologising.
"You alright?"
"Not really." Jake scowls, shaking his arm a little, testing for feeling. "I thought you had a plane to catch."
The guy looks embarassed - actually blushes, for a second, which is so amusing that Jake is distracted from the pain in his arm. "Yes, well. My flight's been delayed."
"Sucks." Jake flops back into his chair, frowning.
He's being stared at. "Did I hurt you that badly?"
"No." Jake shakes his head. "Not your fault. I fell off a horse a couple of days ago."
The Englishman's eyes actually brighten at that, the word horse. And that's pretty hot too, so Jake holds his gaze for a couple seconds. Just to stop thinking about his arm. Right. "You ride?"
"No. That's why I fell off."
("The horse knows you don't like her," Heath told him frankly, sitting comfortably astride his own horse. Fucking show off. "Maybe if you tried to relax."
"Fuck that," Jake had answered, wiping most of the dirt from his jeans with his good hand. He doesn't complain about the pain until much later, after the scene is done. "I'm paid to pretend I like her. She's paid to pretend she likes me. It's called acting."
Heath had laughed.)
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"My wife," Jamie begins, and Jake cuts him off with a hungry kiss, because he doesn't give a fuck. He doesn't bother pretending that he's never done this before either.
("You're a slut," Maggie tells him sometimes, when he's in a confessional mood, and she's on her third glass of wine. Jake disagrees.
"I have a fear of intimacy," he explains, because after years of therapy he can say things like that without pausing. "And issues with trusting people."
"You're full of shit," Maggie answers, and that might be true too.)
Jamie turns out to be mostly smooth skin and firm muscles underneath his Welcome to Vancouver t-shirt. With an appreciative grin, Jake strokes Jamie's chest roughly with his good hand.
The rumbling over the PA is only half-audible to Jake's heated brain, but Jamie pushes him away.
Jake groans. "Don't tell me."
"Yeah." Jamie shrugs apologetically, cutting off the end of each word in his breathlessness. "Flight 312 to Heathrow. Afraid so."
Jamie's skin is flushed, his throat and mouth blushing darker still as Jake runs a hand casually against the front of Jamie's jeans. "Give me five minutes," he says softly.
(totally the end)
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