Title: Footwork
Author:  namárië120
E-mail:  namarie120@gmail.com
Live Journal:  www.livejournal.com/users/namarie120
Rating:  NC-17
Type:  RPS
Pairing:  Viggo / Orlando
Warnings: minor foot fetishism
Disclaimer:  Sadly, it's just a figment of my smutty imagination
Feedback:  is most welcome
Summary:  Viggo gets pampered
A/N:  Blatantly inspired by Jazzyjean's sizzling fic 'Viggo's Hairgasm'
Beta:  the wonderful Ariel

~~~~~

I expected to feel out of place the minute I stepped into the salon, and I
wasn't disappointed.  The obviously high-maintenance female behind the
counter looked at me like I was something particularly nasty that had just
crawled out from under her refrigerator.

'Can I help you?' she drawled, obviously wanting nothing more than to help
me right out the door.  I'd be there before it could hit me in the ass,
too, if I didn't have to be here.

'I have an appointment,' I told her, probably not sounding any more pleased
about it than she did.  'Name of Mortensen.'

I still thought it was a stupid idea, but Mark had insisted.  He wanted
some barefoot shots for the picnic scene, which was more than fine with me.
But he wanted my feet to look more 'polished' than their current natural
state.  I didn't see why the makeup people on set couldn't do whatever was
needed.  But when your director tells you he's booked you an appointment
for a pedicure, there's not much you can do but go along.  Even if it means
spending the afternoon pissing off the help at a place called 'Blooming
Beauty Salon and Day Spa'.

The receptionist frowned (creating some creases she'd probably be horrified
by if she only knew) and began clicking away at her keyboard.  I took the
opportunity to look around in amusement.  The salon obviously catered to a
top-tier clientele.  Fine marble, expensive woods, and silky fabrics
created an elegant atmosphere.  Soft 'lite' jazz (the kind that always set
my teeth on edge) played quietly in the background.  The customers waiting
in the plushly upholstered lounge, sipping flutes of wine or imported
sparkling water, were all highly made-up, expensively dressed women.  I
couldn't blame the receptionist too much for her attitude - my flannel
shirt and jeans were glaringly out of place amid all this sybaritism.
Hell, I was probably the only male in the place.

Or...not.  The young man who stepped through the cut-glass doors from the
salon's inner sanctum was definitely at home in the spa's refined aura.  In
his pink silk shirt and charcoal pinstriped slacks, he could have stepped
straight from a photo shoot for GQ.  He was tall and slender, with an
angel's face and a barely-restrained mop of dark chestnut curls that
obviously benefited from plenty of the salon's 'product'.  The receptionist
was ridiculously happy to see him, leaning toward him to whisper urgently
with just enough twitches of her head towards me to make it clear who she
was talking about.

The young Adonis turned his attention to me with a dazzling smile.  'Mr.
Mortensen?  Would you follow me, please?'  Since he was heading into the
salon and not out to the street, I nodded and trailed behind him, silently
enjoying the view of his trim hips swinging perkily in front of me.

He led me into a private room that was, if possible, even more luxurious
than the reception area.  Closing the door behind us, he offered me his
hand.  'Welcome, Mr. Mortensen.  I'm Orlando Bloom.'

'As in "Blooming Beauty"?' I asked.  'I must have really scared your
receptionist if she had to call the owner on me.'

Orlando chuckled.  'I just bought the spa a few weeks ago, and we don't
have much male clientele yet.  She'll get used to it.'

I realized Orlando was still holding out his hand to me, and offered my own
in return.  Something quivered in my stomach at the feel of his soft
fingers sliding over my calloused palm.

'A pedicure, eh?  Sure I can't talk you into a manicure too?' he asked,
turning my hand over and running his fingers lightly over my knuckles.

The quivering turned into full-fledged tremors.  My cock decided to stand
up for a closer look at what was going on.  Down, boy, I told myself.  This
is his job, just because he's the most stunning thing you've seen in a
month of Sundays doesn't mean he's coming on to you.  Hell, he works
surrounded by beautiful women.  Why on earth would you think he's attracted
to men?

'Just a pedicure, thanks,' I growled, the tone coming out much harsher than
I intended.  'And please, call me Viggo,' I added in a softer tone of
voice.  He glanced at me curiously at first, then flashed his alluring
smile again.

'Fine, let's get started then, Viggo,' he said, nodding toward something
that looked suspiciously like a throne against the opposite wall.  I must
have looked totally lost, because his smile faded slightly.

'Have you had a pedicure before?' he asked.

'You're my first - I mean, no, this is my first one,' I stammered.  Get a
grip, Mortensen, I told myself sternly.

The smile was back.  'A pedicure virgin?  I promise not to do anything you
don't like,' he teased.  Our eyes met and held for a moment.  I recognized
the look in those rich chocolate depths.  Damn!  Maybe he was coming on to
me after all.

Taking pity on my ignorance, Orlando gestured toward the chair.  'This is
the pedicure station,' he explained.  'We'll start with a foot soak to
relax you and soften your skin, followed by moisturizing, trimming,
exfoliation, and a massage.'  He leaned over the chair and turned on a
faucet, testing the water temperature as it began filling the basin at the
foot of the 'throne'.  I took the opportunity to once again admire the trim
ass bent before me.

Once he was satisfied with the water temperature, Orlando selected a bottle
from a shelf above the chair and poured a capful into the basin.  A tangy
scent wafted up in the steam rising from the bowl.

'Grapefruit, mint and eucalyptus,' he told me.  'It's my own blend.  I
prefer it to the floral scents we offer for the ladies.

'If you'll take off your shoes and have a seat...' Orlando hesitated,
glancing at my slim-legged jeans with concern.  'You'll never be able to
roll those up enough to keep them out of the water,' he observed.  His eyes
glittered wickedly.  'Perhaps you should just slip them off.'

Fuck - he was definitely coming on to me.  The way my cock was dancing
against my zipper, it thought Orlando had made an excellent suggestion.

If I'd known I was going to be dropping trou, maybe I would have worn some
boxers underneath them.

I could feel my cheeks reddening involuntarily.  The look Orlando gave me
said he knew exactly why I was blushing.  Chuckling again, he turned to a
closet nearby and, after rummaging inside for a moment, offered me a deep
blue silk robe.  'Here,' he said, 'why don't you slip into this?  I'll get
a few supplies together and be right back.'  He winked at me over his
shoulder as he left the room.

I stripped off my jeans and, after a moment's hesitation, my shirt as well.
Hanging them on a hook behind the door, I slipped into the robe, belted it
firmly around my waist, and climbed up gingerly onto the pedicure chair.

Orlando returned carrying a basket filled with bottles, tins and mysterious
utensils.  'That's a great color on you,' he commented admiringly.  'Really
brings out your eyes.'

I leaned back in the chair, discretely making sure the robe hid my growing
erection.  A good thing, since when Orlando straddled a stool in front of
the chair, his eyes were directly level with my groin.

Reaching beside me, Orlando flipped a series of switches on the side of the
throne.  The seat cushions began to vibrate gently as a series of jets in
the basin churned to life.  Orlando slid my feet into the water, his hands
lingering on my calves just a moment longer than necessary.

'Just relax,' he said quietly, beginning to arrange the items from the
basket on a low table next to the chair.  I closed my eyes for a few
moments, letting the warmth of the water and the soothing vibrations of the
chair lull my senses.

They snapped back to full awareness the minute Orlando reached down to lift
my feet out of the water, settling them on a thick towel draped over the
lip of the basin.  He pumped a handful of lotion into his palm and began
slathering it over my right foot.

'This is a moisturizer,' he explained, his strong hands smoothing the
lotion up my calf.  I could imagine those hands smoothing over another part
of my anatomy, which quickly signaled its enthusiasm for the idea.  I tried
unsuccessfully to will it down as Orlando repeated the treatment to my left
foot.

'Do you go barefoot a lot?' he asked, wiping the excess lotion from his
hands on another towel.

I snorted, which had the unfortunate effect of causing the sides of the
robe to slither down my thighs.  Catching them just before I flashed the
spa owner, I settled them back over my legs, tucking the ends under one
thigh to hold them tight.  Orlando's lips twitched, but he refrained from
commenting on my reaction.

'Yeah,' I admitted, 'as often as I can...how can you tell?'

He slid his fingers gently over my toes.  'You have fewer calluses than
most people,' he said, trailing along the outside of my feet to my heels.
'But it tends to dry your feet out more than normal.'  His touch was
sending tingles pulsing up my legs.  'You really should moisturize them
every day.'

I really hoped he hadn't noticed the way my cock twitched against the robe
when his fingers caressed my insteps.

'You have beautifully shaped feet,' Orlando told me, rubbing them lightly.
'Have you ever considered modeling?'

'I'm an actor,' I admitted, surprising myself.  That wasn't something I
normally told people, especially when we'd just met.  Something about this
gorgeous young man was definitely getting to me.  'That's why I'm here - my
director wanted my feet to look a bit neater.'

'You mean my work is going to be displayed on the silver screen?'  Orlando
grinned.  'Then I'll have to give you my extra special treatment.'

I knew what kind of treatment I'd like to give him... Swallowing hard, I
gritted my teeth and told my cock firmly to behave itself.  It was
unimpressed.

'I'm going to clean up your cuticles first,' Orlando continued, picking up
an implement that looked like something someone would threaten you with in
a dark alley.  He concentrated for the next few minutes on pushing back and
trimming away the skin around my nails, giving me a chance to talk my
arousal into uneasy submission.

'You keep your nails nice and trim,' he said, sounding a bit surprised.
'I'm just going to smooth off the edges.'

'I do own a nail clipper,' I protested.  'I even know how to use it.'

Orlando just smiled as he ran a file over the tip of each toe.  Next he
picked up what looked like a small white block and buffed the surface of
each nail vigorously.

'Let's see what we can do with these heels,' he said next, selecting
something shaped like a shoehorn.  Dipping it into the water, he lifted my
foot and rubbed it firmly over each heel in turn, pausing occasionally to
pass his hand over the skin before rubbing some more.  After a few moments
of this, he nodded in satisfaction and returned the tool to the table.

'This is an exfoliant,' he said, dipping his fingers into a jar of deep
green goop.  He massaged some of the gel over each foot in turn, paying
special attention to the heels.  My cock, which had taken a break while
Orlando was holding sharp implements, began to respond again to the feel of
his hands touching me.

Orlando dipped my feet back into the water to rinse off the gel, then dried
them tenderly.  Flipping a switch to let the water drain, he pumped out
more moisturizer and began to massage my right foot in earnest.  I realized
his slim hands were much stronger than they looked, as they firmly pressed
every sensitive spot on the underside of my foot.  I shifted my hips,
trying to hide my growing erection without freeing the robe from where I
held it closed beneath my legs.

Orlando turned his attention to my left foot.  It became increasingly hard
- literally - to hide my arousal, since my cock was throbbing with each
stroke of his hands over my skin.  When he slid those strong hands up my
calves, I couldn't hold back a soft moan of pleasure.

Orlando's melting brown eyes met mine and searched them before dropping to
my lap.  Following his gaze, I was mortified to see a glaring wet spot
staining the silky fabric of the robe.  The sound Orlando made could only
be described as a purr, as he lifted his eyes to meet mine once again.

'I'm so glad I'm not the only one feeling this way,' he murmured.  'I've
been hard since the minute I saw you in the lobby.'

'Orlando,' I groaned helplessly.  My spa angel stood up from his stool and
climbed up the side of the chair, swinging his leg across to straddle my
hips.

'Is this what you want, Viggo?' he whispered, leaning forward to tease my
lips with his own.  'Because it's sure as hell what I want.'

I pried my hands from their death grip on the arms of the chair and pulled
him against my chest.  My tongue surged past his open lips, searching out
the contours of his warm mouth as he slid his hips against my crotch.  He
tasted as rich and heady as his spa was elegant.

'Viggo,' he moaned, reaching between us to pull open the tie of my robe.
This time I let the silky material slip down my sides.  Orlando began
kissing his way down the base of my throat, his hips maintaining a steady
rhythm against me.  I managed to unbutton my Adonis' shirt to reveal his
smooth chest.  His pert brown nipples called to me, so I slid his body
upward until I could reach them with my mouth.  He arched back
hedonistically, whimpering softly as my tongue traced their outline.
Taking one gently between my teeth, I reached under the waistband of his
loose slacks to find he was telling the truth about his arousal.  I also
discovered why he understood my earlier embarrassment.  Orlando had gone
commando himself.

When my hand closed around his impressive length, Orlando cried out
wordlessly.  He let me stroke him for a moment, his eyes closed in bliss,
before leaning forward to kiss me again, deeply, and still my hand.

'Not yet,' he whispered, pushing himself up against the arms of the chair
and swinging off me.  My cock protested the loss of contact immediately.
Orlando quickly stripped off his clothes and stood proudly naked before me.
He was glorious, and I started to rise myself, needing to hold him again.
He placed a palm against my chest to stop me and smiled into my eyes.

'Will you let me...' he hesitated, his eyes flickering briefly away.
Anything, I thought to myself.  I'll let you do anything you want.

'Will you let me paint your toenails?' he asked quickly.  Whatever I had
expected him to ask, it sure wasn't that.  He must have seen the confusion
on my face, because he leaned forward to brush my lips again.

'I find it very sexy,' he said, his eyes promising that I'd enjoy the
benefits of indulging him.

'I'm not sure Mark had polished nails in mind,' I protested feebly.

'I promise to remove it when we're done,' Orlando countered.

'Okay, then,' I agreed, immediately rewarded by the pleasure that lit his
face.

He turned away for a moment to select a bottle of polish from a crowded
rack.  I smiled when he waved the bottle happily in front of me.

'Blue?'  I asked, unable to resist grinning myself at Orlando's obvious
glee.

'It matches your beautiful eyes,' he answered.  'Now just lie back and let
me have my way with you.'

Orlando pulled the stool back in front of the chair and lifted my feet back
onto the ledge.  With quick, practiced strokes, he covered my nails in the
deep blue polish.  Each touch of his hands on my feet sent tremors through
my over-sensitized cock.  When he was finished, he crawled up my legs to
once more straddle my hips.

'Now we have to let them dry,' he crooned, claiming my mouth forcefully and
fucking me with his tongue.  If this is what a little polish did to him, he
could paint me every night.  I reached between us to where our eager cocks
strained against each other.  Circling them both in my fist, I matched the
rhythm of my strokes with Orlando's ravenous tongue.  A deep groan rumbled
in his throat.

I tore my lips away to suck in a much-needed breath.  'Fuck, baby,' I
groaned, 'feels so good.  You're so fucking hot.'

'I want you inside me,' Orlando moaned, pulling my hand away reluctantly.
He slid back down my legs until he could reach the small table at the foot
of the chair.  Lifting a towel, he revealed a foil-covered condom.

'I don't do this,' he confessed.  'Especially since the clients are all
women.  But when I left you to get undressed, I couldn't help but hope.'

'I'm glad,' I told him truthfully.  Our eyes met again, and then Orlando
was rolling the condom down my hard length.  I stopped his hand from
stroking me with a rueful grin.

'I won't last if you do that,' I admitted.  Orlando pressed the bottle of
moisturizer into my palm.  'Make me ready for you,' he pleaded, turning
around so that his tight ass was facing me.

I pumped a stream of lotion over my fingers, gasping when Orlando's tongue
slid over my toes.  I had never considered my feet erogenous before, but
Orlando might as well have been licking my cock directly.  I moaned as he
sucked my big toe into his hot mouth, sliding a finger into his tight
channel at the same moment.

We both groaned as my fingers worked their way inside him, finding the
bundle of nerves deep within.  The suction on my toes increased as Orlando
writhed above me.  With my other hand, I grasped his rigid cock, the lotion
still on my palm letting it glide over him slickly.  Orlando shuddered and
threw his head back with a sob.

'So good,' he gasped.  'Oh god, Viggo, stop, gonna come...'

'Let it go, baby,' I urged, needing to see my beauty find his release.  I
twisted my wrist, brushing my fingers over his prostate as I flicked my
thumb over his slit.  With a cry, Orlando came, spurting his creamy fluid
over my abdomen.  He lay gasping against my legs for a moment before
catching his breath and crawling around to face me once again.

'You are incredible,' he told me, after kissing me all but senseless.
'What can I do to make you feel that good?'

'Ride me,' I pleaded, pulling up at his hips.  'I need to feel that tight
ass I've been admiring all day wrapped around my cock.'

Orlando ran his palm down my chest to the pool of come still warm against
my belly.  Gathering the creamy fluid in his hand, he coated the condom and
positioned himself over me.  His eyes locked with mine as he lowered
himself over my hard length in one smooth stroke.

'Fuck, Orlando,' I gasped as he squeezed his muscles around me.  'Fuck me,
baby.  Fuck me hard.'

Orlando grasped the arms of the chair, lifted himself up and then slammed
back down, impaling himself on me again and again.  I thrust my hips up
against him, fighting to bury myself as deeply as I could in his welcoming
heat.

'Tight,' I growled, reaching for his reawakening cock.  'Knew you'd be
tight...feels so goddamn good...'  I pumped him fiercely as he rode my
throbbing cock.

'Close,' Orlando moaned, reaching down to flip the switch that started the
chair vibrating beneath me.  'Gonna come again... come with me, lover...'
He tightened around me one more time, and we both cried out as we found our
release together.

Orlando collapsed against my chest as we each fought to recapture our
breath.  I ran my fingers through his sweat-dampened curls, loving the feel
of his weight pressing against me.

'Congratulations,' Orlando whispered after a moment.  'You're the lucky
winner of our grand opening contest.'

'And what do I win?'  I asked, nuzzling his cheek.

'Free pedicures every week for life,' he replied dreamily.

'Only pedicures?'  I pouted.  'I had my heart set on that manicure you
offered me.'

Orlando smiled at me, his heart shining out from his dark chocolate eyes.
'We're a full-service salon,' he stated proudly.  'And it will be my
pleasure to service you any time.'

'It'll be a pleasure for us both,' I promised.