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Achilles Last Stand	By : writearts2 Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 2042 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Orlando Bloom. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Achilles Last Stand
- 1
FIC: Achilles Last Stand BP/SB/EB/OB RPS R
Author/Email: sandyg writearts2@earthlink.net
Pairing: suggested Brad P/Sean B/Eric B/Orlando B
Rating: RPS R
Summary: Orlando discovers heavy metal. His fellow actors like the idea.
Content: Drunkeness, dancing and lust
Disclaimer: No money made from any fic or sexy fleeting idea. All song lyrics and titles © 1969-76 by Page/Plant

**********

Orlando barreled into the impromptu bar area under the blue cloth awning and happily waved a CD case in the sullen air. "Hey, did you guys know that Led Zeppelin recorded a song called ‘Achilles Last Stand?’ John over in the tech one trailer just played it for me. It’s really cool."

A bare-chested Eric looked up from sucking on his sixth, erm, seventh? Corona and groaned in mocking pain. "Oh Lordy me, the resident pretty boy has gone hemetametal on us."

"Well then that means he’s discovered his dick, right? If you like Robert Plant then you gotta like your owck. ck. At least that’s the way it was when I was a horny teenage boy." Sean rudely snorted into his beer.

The relaxed Brad supplied everyone with a benevolent grin and held up his right hand. He grandly conducted his fingers against the hot sunset air. "All right, dudes, let’s have a flashback here. A one, a two, a three..."

As Orlando watched in stunned amazement Eric, Brad and Sean began gently air guitaring the opening notes to "Stairway to Heaven" until they laughed in drunken hysteria. During his convulsions Eric’s burly arm knocked over his beer whior sor some reason struck Brad and Sean as even funnier.

Shit, could these old blokes get any drunker? Scratch that thought... absolutely. It was early and they were bored. Orlando tried sounding insulted but he wanted to laugh along with them. Still, why was he suddenly the object of ridicule? "Well excuse the fuck out of me! I can’t help it that I’m not some old fart who listened to this shit while growing up."

A huffy Eric sloppily kicked sand at Orlando’s bare feet. "Who the fuck are you calling an old fart? I only have like eight years on you, kiddie." He insultingly jerked his thumb toward Sean and Brad. "Come on, mate, those two are the old farts."

In childish retaliation Sean reached into the melting ice surrounding the beer bottles and threw a few cold cubes onto Eric’s broad bare chest. "Fuck you!"

"You fucking wish, you old man!"

After Brad released an obnoxious burp he regally gestured at Orlando. He was still way into his studly character so he felt absolutely bossy. "Hey, Orlando, while we’re waiting for the cars to take us back to the hotel why don’t you entertain us?"

Fuck, Brad was a notorious prankster. He and Viggo could be mentally deranged spiritual brothers. A suspicious look filled Orlando’s wide dark eyes. "Entertain how?"

The three sitting actors glanced at each other in contemplation then Seat uat upright and snapped his fingers. Oh yeah, he felt brilliant. Drunk but brill. "OK, Orlando, look, if you answer this question incorrectly then you have to dance for us. Yea, you must dance to ‘Achilles Last Stand’ while in harem girl mode."

Eric and Brad applauded Sean’s outstanding decision. More beer spilled and splashed on sand and flesh.

But someone else did not. "Oh fuck off!"

In reply Eric cupped his hands around his lips and imitated an obnoxious sideshow barker. "Step right up, folks, and see Paris the chickshit, little cowardly chickenshit, yellow bellied..."

"Shut up!"

Another heroic burp earthquaked prime Hollywood real estate before Brad shook his golden head. "Well, it’s no use, dudes, Orlando’s a prissy assed prima donna and he’s not gonna play fair. These pretty ones always act up... been there, done that. Luckily I have matured."

Shit! After almost dumping his cold beer in his lap Sean gravely shook his head. "Dream on, delusional one. Getting married and sprouting wrinkles does not mean you have matured. It just means you’re getting old."

A flurry of punches, friendly smacks and pokes followed until Sean almost shoved Brad from his lounge chair. Eric caught the giggling Brad before he performed a face plant into the sand. "Hey Sean baby, I thought this Greek prick was on your side?"

Sean laughed again. "Oh right! Ha!" After choking on more laughtean ean pointed at the bemused Orlando. "Come on, be a sport for your old pal. Try a little pop quiz, baby boy. I’ll accept one of two songs as an answer. Now listen closely... which two Led Zeppelin songs reference "Lord of the Rings?" Fuck, I’ll even make it easy... one mentions Ringwraithes and the other mentions Gollum."

Oh how bloody idiotic! A frustrated Orlando stood there toying with the idea of tossing the CD case at Sean’s sculpted head. Fuck. He offered his questioner a whiny complaint. "But I don’t bloody well listen to Led Zepplin!"

A beer cap bounced off Orlando’s right pec then Eric cocked his finger at his film baby bro. "Then what’s that in your hand, mate? Since it’s not your dick I think it’s a Led Zep CD."

"Hey, fart face, my dick is longer than a CD case and beside, this is John’s CD!" Orlando turned over the CD and frowned at the song titles. Useless twaddle. The CD was from an old greatest hits collection. OK, he had heard of the song ‘Kashmir’ but that was it. Fuck, where was his sister when he needed her? He finally darted Sean a hopeful glance. "Do I get a clue?"

Ha, what a perfect question. Instead of reacting Sean mockingly stroked his chin. "Whadda think, comrades?"

Eric looked up from sucking on his fresh beer. "No clue given. Let our pretty young thang use his brain for once."

They both looked over at Brad who shrugged before he scratched his firm thigh. "Ah, give the pretty pouting youngster a clue. He sure as hell needs a clue or two." An evil grin chased his words. More drunken laughter drifted into the Mexican sunset.

Now Orlando considered throwing the CD case at Brad’s head but he knew if he put a mark on their buff star’s expensive flesh then Wolfgang would murder him. "All right then, give me the fuckin’ clues."

Ha, Sean knew that Orlando never liked being totally frustrated or teased. After a certain abuse level Orlando started whining like a ready to snap alternator belt. What fun. As he stretched out the drama Sean crossed his muscular arms and grinned in merry anticipation. "Since I love thee, dear Legolas, I shall impart noble clues to you. Here’s the lyrics to the one song..." Sean broke into a reasonable baritone and offered Orlando lyrics:

"T'was in the darkest depths of Mordor
I met a girl so fair,
But Gollum, the evvvviiiiil one, crept up
And slipped away with her, herrrrr-errrr."

Brad choked on his beer and laughed in great gusting whoops. "Shit, man, you are a total Brit metal head. You know the fuckin’ lyrics? What a damned geek."

A middle finger expertly popped into the thick air. "Fuck you, Goldilocks. OK, I might.... shit, I can’t remember exactly how this song goes but I mean it’s about a battle regarding good and evil, all about Ringwraithes and being saved by the fair dawn. It’s like a cocktail stew of a few battles, Elf boy."

Orlando now wondered if he could skip the CD case off all three heads like a flat rock skimming over a still pond. No go. His aim wasn’t that good. Fuck. OK, shit, he had no clue but he’d give it a shot. He desperately tried remembering any Led Zeppelin tunes but unfortunately only one popped into his mind. "Whole Lotta Love?"

"Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzttt, wrong, contestant Legolas! The panel was looking for ‘Ramble On’ or ‘Battle of Evermore.’" Sean triumphantly waved his beer in the air and managed to splash more onto his yellow tank top. His nipple reacted to the chill and waved hello.

Eric laughed so hard he finally leaned down and stuck his head between his knees while gasping for air.

"Yo, Eric, please don’t puke. It will ruin the show." Brad leaned down and pawed at the CD player wrapped in plastic to protect it from the sand. He popped out the Beach Boys CD he had been grooving to and held out his hand toward Orlando. "Give the CD to Achilles, little wife stealer, and prepare to boogie for your elders."

OK, shit, what was the harm in it? Orlando smacked the CD case into Brad’s palm. "Track seven, drunken one."

"OK, pretty one." Brad pressed the advance until the rollicking guitar strains hit the air. Robert Plant screeched out lyrics:

"It was an April morning when they told us we should go
As I turn to you, you smiled at me
How could we say no?"

Watch and admire. Orlando began twitching his slim hips before he broke into a full body shimmy. He raised his toned arms over his head and swayed like a harem girl. His rotating hips put a pendulum to shame. Viggo had taught him well. One practiced twirl then he started pumping all over again in seductive vigor.

Famous jaws dropped. Beer foamed over. The three watching men plunked their beers down and started clapping and hooting at the floor show.

As he danced Orlando decided he ly lly liked how Eric’s brown eyes trained on his moving hips. Hook ook them a little harder. Mmm, it felt nice to bounce his cock so hard. A few finger snaps then he twirled around again and shook his pert ass. Hey fuck, this was fun. It felt fine. Yeah, he knew how to dance before handsome men.

After deciding he was drunk enough to enjoy a little fun Eric leapt up and joined in the dance. Brad and Sean almost screamed with laughter. Look at the bros move!

Stanzas welled and faded. Orlando abruptly thrust his hips into Eric’s. Eric blinked and gripped Orlando’s lithe shoulders. They felt lovely under his long fingers. Yeah, shit, his fictional little bro should wear a red silk tank top all the time. Their bodies instinctively started moving together.

The song slowed into a long guitar break. As he released himself Orlando slowly ground his cock into Eric’s obviously hard pole. Oh God. Yeah. They stared at each other in sultry surprise then Eric ran his fingers down Orlando’s taut arms. Orlando leaned forward and wantonly licked a bead of sweat rolling down Eric’s cheek. Mmm, musky. Tasty.

As he watched the musical foreplay Brad slapped his hand against Sean’s bare shoulder. "Wow, fuck, those two need to get a room."

Sean winked and traced his finger down Brad’s firm chest. Fuck, he had hoped for this moment. "I think mine is available tonight."

Whoa. The beloved of every American supermarket tabloid blinked and considered the tempting offer. A four way with these hot guys? Why the fuck not? When would he ever have this chance again? Once he mentally apologized to his wife Brad grinned at Sean and puckered his lips. "I won’t tell if you don’t."

"Deal."

A voice echoed from beyond the star’s private back lot little haven. "The hotel cars are here!"

Suddenly Eric and Orlando departed from their sexual interpretative tango. Shit. Eric shook his head and intently stared at Orlando’s beautiful face. The lhe she saw almost dislocated his brain. What the hell was going on here? One hoarse word escaped his numb lips. "Fuck."

Both Brad and Sean started laughing again. Sean waved at his fellow actors. "This party continues in room 902. Any takers?"

Huh. Hot tingling rushes invaded Eric’s entire body and gravitated into his cock. He nd tod to give his flesh a hot, dark home and quick. As he tried calming down Eric gravely stared at the sweating Orlando. For once he wasn’t joking. "Well? Or are you just teasing me?"

Long fingers caressed a sweat drop rolling between Eric’s pronounced pecs. As he batted his lashes Orlando offered Eric his best ‘fuck me’ voice. "Mmm, I tease and deliver, my big, beautiful brother. I think Hector needs to punish Paris."

Yeah. Perfect. Eric pulled Orlando into a rough embrace before he stalked toward the waiting car. Sean staggered behind them.

Wow. What a bunch of lethal cock teases. Hold on. Brad reached down and turned off the CD. He placed it in the case and slid it into his shorts pocket. John could have his CD tomorrow. Yeah, shit, Brad just might buy Led Zep on CD. He just never imagined their music as a potent aphrodisiac.

Then again it could be the heat. The sand. The crazy schedule. The whole fucking experience. Available boy flesh.

The faux Achilles turned and followed the others to tonight’s sexual destiny. Yeah, America’s sweetheart was off duty. Shit, he loved his work’s unexpected extras.

*** there's more sex to come once they reach room 902 but i'm lazy tonight
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Achilles Last Stand