"God, Viggo," Orlando said when he caught his breath. "Is that what you Yanks mean by nailing one's ass to the wall?"

Viggo lifted his face from the curve of Orlando's neck. "Not exactly," he said.

Orlando looked at his watch. "We'd better get to our seats," he said.

"Damn," Viggo groaned. "I don't even know why we came. The Academy doesn't give Awards to fantasy films."

"But we're nominated in so many categories," Orlando said.

"Yeah, and we'll probably win a few like best costumes and makeup, best sound editing, all the technical ones, but they won't give Peter best director and they sure as hell aren't going to give us best picture."

"Why not?" Orlando's brow puckered. "Return of the King is a great movie. They're all great movies and Peter is a great director."

Viggo kissed the worry lines on the young man's forehead. "I know that, baby, but our movie has wizards and all sorts of weird creatures."

"Like Elves?" Orlando smiled.

"Elves?" Viggo said in his best W. C. Fields impression. "The Elves are the weirdest of all, my boy. You ready?"

Orlando nodded, looking into Viggo's enamel bright eyes. The man carefully withdrew his softening shaft as Orlando unwrapped his leg from around Viggo's hip. They straightened their tuxes and inspected one another in the dim light for betraying evidence of their impromptu passion.

"You are illegally handsome," Orlando said. "I want to make love to you all over again, Viggo Mortensen."

The young man smoothed the lapels of Viggo's vintage cobalt blue velvet tuxedo. Not many men could have carried off the ruffled pale pink shirt, but Viggo was one of them. A tie of any description was out of the question, of course, but around his neck, the man wore a distinctive piece of Maori jewelry he'd bought in New Zealand. With his crown of golden hair and noble features, he looked like visiting royalty. He had an undeniable majesty that had shone through in his portrayal of Aragorn, a king without a throne.

"Illegally handsome?" Viggo repeated dubiously. "What a shame you're so hideous. People will think I'm only with you out of pity."

"Well, you know what people are like," Orlando said, giving Viggo a quick kiss.

The man took hold of Orlando's biceps and brought their lips together again. Viggo's other hand traced the curve of the young man's cheek.

"Mmmno," Orlando said, pushing Viggo away. "We're going to be late and they'll lock us out. The Hobbits will kill us if we're not sitting with them."

"Fuck the Hobbits," Viggo mock-growled.

Orlando giggled. "One at a time, or en masse?"

"Eek," Viggo said. "Imagine it. Sex with a herd of Hobbits."

Orlando laughed out loud and quickly clapped a hand over his mouth.

"A haggle of Hobbits?" Viggo continued. "A handful of Hobbits?"

Orlando was bent double, holding in his laughter and Viggo fought off the wicked impulse to tickle his lover. Orlando was right; they should be going.

"Straighten up, Bloom," Viggo said in his best Master Chief voice.

Orlando stifled his giggles, wiped his streaming eyes and squared his shoulders. Viggo whisked invisible dust from the shoulders of the young man's black brocade jacket and allowed his eyes to dwell on his beautiful lover. The sable curls that overhung his forehead and trailed down his nape set off his flawless skin perfectly. The creamy cloth of the wing collar was a perfect frame for the ivory column of Orlando's long neck. Viggo took the lovely face between his hands and looked deep into the velvet dark eyes.

"This is going to be one the last times we'll be together with the rest of our Ring family," he said. "I'm sorry I dragged you in here like that, but I got emotional all of a sudden and I had to do something to take my mind off it."

Orlando rolled his eyes. "The tragedy is that you actually think you're funny, Mortensen."

"You know you love it," Viggo said, kissing his lover on the end of his perfect nose.

"Look, mate, if you think I'm going to fall over backward for you every time you look my way just because you're gorgeous and sexy and charming well, that's where you're right," Orlando said, and paused, "but don't push it."

"Whatever you say, baby," Viggo grinned, reaching down to cup the young man's crotch.

"Stop that. You'll only start something we don't have time to finish."

"You're wearing a long jacket," Viggo pointed out, "and I can . . . well, I mean once we sit down, I could, you know . . . "

Orlando jaw dropped. "At the Awards? Sitting next to all our friends? With cameras all around and millions of people watching?"

"Does that turn you on, baby?"

"No! Well, yes. I mean maybe. Oh, I don't know."

Viggo continued to fondle the stiffening shaft. "I think it does," he said. "Come on, baby. Let me give you a hand job at the Oscars."

Orlando moaned and grabbed the man's wrist. "We'll see," he said breathlessly. "Now, come on. Let's go."

"All right," Viggo said, grabbing the doorknob.

"Well, open it," Orlando said.

"I can't," Viggo said. "It must have locked automatically behind us."

"What are you saying?"

"We're stuck in here and I'm probably going to have to shag your brains out to keep you from dying of boredom."

Orlando smacked him on the shoulder just hard enough to let him know it was time to get serious. Reaching past the man, Orlando tried the knob. A few minutes of wrestling with it convinced him it was locked.

"Is there anything in here we can use to open the door?" he asked.

Viggo looked around the tiny space at the stacked boxed of printed programs. "I'm afraid not," he said.

Several more minutes of brainstorming, inspection of the entire door and frontal assault persuaded them that they were stuck until someone let them out. After Orlando had run the gamut of anger, fear of Hobbit reprisals and disappointment, Viggo pulled him into his arms and held him tightly.

"I'm really sorry, baby," the man said. "I sure didn't mean for this to happen."

"S'okay," Orlando said. "There'll be other Academy Awards."

Viggo looked down into the young man's eyes. "You sound pretty sure of that."

"Course I am. You're an amazing actor and now Rings has made everyone notice you. They're going to go back and see your old films and realize just how great you were all along. Your hardcore fans will be vindicated. Or is it validated? It doesn't matter. You'll be nominated next year, or the year after that. And I'll be there, too, as your date."

Viggo chuckled. "I'm glad you're being a sport about this," he said.

"Oh yeah mate, I'm a sport," Orlando said, "but when I go with you to the next Awards you better make sure I'm sporting some major carats, if you know what I mean."

Viggo snorted. "You'll be able to buy your own, but if you want diamonds, baby, just say so."

"Don't be absurd. The only jewels I want are right here." Orlando took hold of Viggo's balls and pulled the man closer.

"Whoa! Easy, baby," Viggo said. "Those are sensitive."

Orlando squeezed gently. "Is that better?"

Viggo grabbed the young man by the shoulders and pushed him against the wall again. Orlando grasped a handful of the man's hair and pulled his head down for a passionate kiss.

"So, we've got some time to kill," Viggo said, when their lips parted. "What do you want to do?"

"Do you have a deck of cards?"

"Nope."

"Too bad. I guess you'll have to shag me, then."

Viggo grinned. "I'd like to thank the Academy," he said, as he took Orlando's mouth again.



Several hours later, a member of the cleaning staff opened the closet door to retrieve her cigarettes from their hiding place. She awakened two disheveled actors who thanked her sheepishly and ambled away, arms around one another. She shook her head and went outside to have a smoke.

Viggo and Orlando found a cab and returned to their hotel room. Collapsing gratefully onto the big bed, they fell asleep wrapped around each other. Their dreams were beautiful and when they woke, they learned that Peter had won Best Director and Return of the King had won Best Picture as well as a slew of other Awards. Orlando put down the phone after promising Lij they would meet him downstairs for breakfast as soon as they got dressed.

"I'm sorry we missed it, baby," Viggo said, "but at least we came out of the closet."

"Agh! That was awful," Orlando said as he sprang at the man, pinning him to the mattress.

Viggo wrapped his arms around the pleasant weight of the lithe body atop his and it was a long time before they came down for breakfast.