vigorli

Author: Lara
Rating: It may go to an NC17 if I'm feeling particuarly smutty, but I'm not sure. Definitely some bad language, though.
Disclaimer: I know nothing of what they like or who they like it with...or how they like it, though I have some fantasies I won't go into.
Note: This is in that annoying genre of Jerk!Orli who has let fame go to his head. I didn't mean to write it, but I heard Josh Groban's "My Confession" recently and my muse went into overdrive.

MY CONFESSION

“Nah, I can’t. I’m sorry.” Orlando waved away his assistant. “I said a frozen latte,” he hissed. She blushed and nodded, leaving the dressing room.

“Look, Orli, we promised, remember? We promised that as soon as they got the thing done, we’d fly to wherever they were to celebrate,” Elijah said, frowning at his end of the phone.

“I was there, Elijah, I remember what was said.” Orlando impatiently tapped his fingers on his knee as the makeup artist finished her work. “Done?” He snapped, and the woman nodded. He stood and began to pace, long fingers clutching his cell phone. “I can’t make it. I’m getting ready to go on Leno, for fuck’s sake.”

“I realize that, Orli. It’s just…Billy and Dom would really love it if you came. You’re in L.A. anyway.”

“And I’ll be busy the whole time. I’m sorry. I’ll send them flowers or something.” He smiled at one of Leno’s crewmembers. “Look, Elijah, I have to go.”

“You’re becoming a real dick, Orlando,” Elijah said angrily. “You’re not coming because Viggo might come, and you’re too immature to deal with seeing him again.”

Orlando froze, ice running through his brains. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, bitch. You can’t handle the fact that he was the best thing that ever happened to you, and whatever you had in New Zealand should have never ended.”

“I’m going to hang up now,” Orlando growled. “And if you’re lucky, I MIGHT talk to you again after what you just said.”

“The way you’ve been acting lately, I’ll be luckier if you DON’T.” Elijah slammed his phone down.

Orlando flopped into the back of the limo, frown lines marring the beauty of his face. The interview had not gone well, and he knew he had come off sounding like a fluffy, brainless git. He glared out the window, watching the city pass by on the way back to his hotel. He turned back and flipped on the tiny television set provided in the back of the limo. A rerun of Entertainment Tonight was on, and while he wasn’t really interested in gossip about other celebrities, it was something to get his mind off of the interview.

“Viggo Mortensen, Aragorn in Lord of the Rings, has made a few movies since the trilogy, but not yet achieved the star status awarded to his castmate, Orlando Bloom.” Orlando’s mouth fell open. It still, after all these years, hit him right in the stomach whenever his name was mentioned anywhere near Viggo’s. The camera focused on Viggo’s tanned face. There were more lines than Orlando remembered, but there was a peace and contentment in the blue eyes that he hadn’t seen before.

“We caught up with Viggo on his Idaho ranch. Viggo hasn’t been active in the acting community for over a year, preferring instead to paint, sculpt and write out in the middle of his mountain paradise,” the voiceover continued. Orlando blinked. He had simply assumed that he and Viggo didn’t run into one another at various events because one of them or the other was off on location. He had no clue that Viggo hadn’t been working.

Viggo smiled at the unseen reporter. “This is home to me. I don’t think I’ve ever been more comfortable than I am here…except perhaps in New Zealand, for a short time. It was very easy, during filming of Rings, to feel that you had found your way home.”

“That was a great group of actors, I hear. Are you still in touch with any of them?”

“Well, I talk to Elijah Wood about once a month, and Sean Bean and I call each other every week. Bernard Hill was just out here recently for a few days…Billy Boyd and Dominic Monaghan are working on a screenplay, and I hope to see them once it starts to get off the ground.”

“Orlando Bloom’s career seems to have skyrocketed since filming the trilogy,” the reporter said. “What are your thoughts about him?”

Viggo visibly paused, looking up at the sky for a second. He squinted against the sun’s glare. “Well, he’s a talented young man.” Viggo scratched at the back of his head. Orlando knew that gesture; it meant Viggo was searching for words, trying to say the right thing. “He deserves everything he gets in life. He’s gonna go far.” Orlando sighed. Suddenly it felt quite lonely going so far. Viggo smiled and Orlando’s heart leapt. He was still so gorgeous. “I got to know Orlando well, while we were filming. He has a heart of gold, he’s generous, he’s smart.”

Orlando frowned and turned off the television.

~~~~~~~

Viggo tugged at the hair that fell along the back of his neck. “This…this is a shock, Orli.”

“I thought we both agreed that this probably wouldn’t make it past the end of filming, Vig,” Orlando said softly.

“We did.” Viggo turned and walked out of the tiny cabin they had rented. Principle photography was almost complete, and they had rented the cabin for a long weekend. Orlando followed him out onto the porch. “I just, I guess I was an idiot.”

“You? You’re the smartest guy I know, Viggo.” Orlando stood next to him, leaning on the railing.
Viggo snorted. “Not in this case. But then again, my heart never did connect right with my brain.” He looked at Orlando, the expression on his face almost painful. “I guess I hoped you’d change your mind. I know I changed mine the second your hands touched my body. I thought maybe we could…” Viggo shook his head. “Well, you’re right. We have lives outside New Zealand, and this wouldn’t work.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Viggo. I thought this was just all in fun…something to keep us going while we filmed.”

“I think you know that it’s more than “fun,” Orlando,” Viggo said, and Orlando had the decency to blush.

“Yes, I care about you, Viggo, but it’s not enough, really.”

“It would get in the way of our careers.”

“Exactly,” Orlando said eagerly. “I knew you’d understand.”

Viggo turned and placed a hand on Orlando’s face. “You’re still such a child, Orli. A little boy in a man’s body.” He kissed Orlando’s cheek. “You can stay here. I’m gonna pack up and go back.”

~~~~~

Orlando awoke with a growl, sitting straight up in bed. He hadn’t had that dream in months…the dream where he relived the moment when he had broken Viggo’s heart. He could still see the beautiful blue eyes looking at him with such infinite sadness, could still feel the last touch of Viggo’s hand on his face. He had thought that it was over, that he could move on. That dream, however, had haunted his nights for the first six months after New Zealand, and only hard work and an even harder shell around his heart had gotten Orlando through it.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, looking at his clock. His alarm wasn’t set to go off for another two hours. His cell phone rang, making him jump. “It’s too fucking early,” he said without looking at the caller ID. “You better have just dialed wrong.”

“Hello, Paris,” a familiar voice said.

“Eric?” Orlando flopped back onto his pillows, glancing at the caller ID. “It’s great to hear your voice, mate! Where are you?”

“London.”

“Did you assume I’d be up at ass o’clock in the morning, big brother?” Orlando teased.

“I was actually hoping I’d wake you up,” Eric said sternly, and Orlando actually frowned under the obvious disappointment in Eric’s voice.

“You did?”

“I have someone here who wants to talk to you. Get your head out of your ass, Orli.” Orlando heard Eric speak to someone else at his end.

“Orlando?”

“Yes?”

“I guess it’s been so long since we’ve talked that you forget the sound of my voice?”

“Hi, Beanie,” Orlando said, actually hiding under his covers. He was grateful that an ocean AND an entire continent were between them.

“I’m on a flight in a few hours,” Sean began, “I’m coming to L.A., and if you haven’t cleaned up your act by the time I get there, I’ll be cleaning Rodeo Drive with your ASS.”

“What’s your problem?” Orlando said, trying to act cold and indifferent.

“My problem is that you’ve turned into a total twat.”

Orlando sighed, trying to sound like he could care less. “Is this about Dom and Billy?”

“No. This is about you being a twat,” Sean said. “The whole thing with Dom and Billy, though, is simply icing on the cake.”

“So, tell me, Sean, why do YOU think I’m a twat. I know why Elijah thinks it, and it seems Eric now thinks so, too.”

“Elijah told me all about your conversation. Apparently you’re too good for your friends?”

“I never said that!” Orlando crawled out of his covers and sat up. “I said I was busy!”

“You’re a big enough star now that you could rearrange a few things just to make a dinner, Orlando.”

“Jealous?” Orlando snapped before he thought.

“Hardly. I’d rather have my integrity than a blockbuster, and you know it. Actually, I thought you used to feel the same way.”

“I have integrity,” Orlando protested. “Besides, it’s Elijah that’s the twat. He said I don’t want to come because of…” Orlando paused, barely able to say the name without a wave of heartache. “Because of Viggo,” he finished.

“Oh, let’s not go there, mate. You rose far above being a twat when it comes to Viggo,” Sean growled. “I’m landing at LAX at ten tonight. Be there to pick me up.”

“What?” Orlando gasped, but Sean had already hung up.

I have been blind, unwilling…to see the true love you’re giving…I have ignored every blessing…I’m on my knees confessing…