Slippery Slope 3/?
Aug. 13th, 2005 08:10 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
rocketbalm.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
vigorliTitle: Slippery Slope
Chapter: 3/?
Author: Rocketbalm
Pairing: OB/VM
Rating: PG-13ish for language
Summary: Some feelings are hurt, some are soothed and others discovered.
Content/warnings: AU, Angst, romance and eventually M/M sex
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Blatantly not true, fiction
fic•tion (fik shen)
An imaginative creation or a pretense that does not represent actuality but has been invented. A lie. A literary work whose content is produced by the imagination and is not necessarily based on fact.
Chapter 3
Laughing with Jamie, Viggo shifted his gaze to the table he had been sharing with Orlando. The young man who had been quite enjoying his meal when he left, in spite of the uneasy silence they had shared, now seemed to be in distressed with his head in his hands. A look of concern crossed Viggo’s face, not knowing what was wrong but knowing he wanted to offer Orlando a measure of comfort. Excusing himself, he quickly crossed the floor and squatted next to the chair in which he sat and placing a gentle hand on the well muscled back and asked, “Hey, are….”
Before Viggo could finish, Orlando jerked away from his touch and snapped, “I’m fine, just leave me the fuck alone. I certainly don’t need your pity, I’m sure that wasn’t included in Mike’s request for a favour.” His coffee brown eyes darkened and crackled with emotion. Viggo saw hurt and anger bleed together and meld into bitterness and distinct distrust. The shock of the venom in which the words were spoken twisted into Viggo’s gentle soul. No matter how much of a pain the kid was, he hadn’t meant do anything to hurt him. Realizing that his conversation had been overheard he searched for something to say knowing it would be hard to undo the damage already done. As the two men continued to stare at each other, one in anger; the other contrition they were jostled back to the present by the shrill ring of a mobile phone.
Orlando looked at the incoming number before answering the phone with, “Fuck Dom, about fucking time you called. Why the hell haven’t you been answering your phone?” He paused to roll his eyes at the answer before interrupting the caller. “Hang on a minute I have to find somewhere I can talk, too many people I can’t *trust* around here.” Glaring at Viggo as he emphasized the word trust. Orlando grabbed his jacket and went out into the snow leaving Viggo to stare after him with a tinge of regret.
“Dom where the hell are you, it sounds like a huge fucking party.”
“It is a huge fuckin’ party Orli, a gathering of snowbound ponces the likes of which you’ve never seen.”
“Well why didn’t you and ‘Lijah tell me you were going to some fucking Gay extravaganza?”
“We did tell you Orli. We told you all about it last month when we booked in. At the time you laughed and said it sounded fun. What were you monged out of your skull again and can’t remember or what? And why should you care if Elwood and I go to a fruit festival – it’s not like we’re a secret anymore. Why the frantic phone calls Orli, what’s happened?”
“I left Kate.”
“Oh. That’s a good thing right? I mean it’s not like you loved her or anything, right? So why the melt down?”
“The press are all over it. What an asshole I am leaving her right after the disaster of her last movie and there’s the whole ‘he’s too pretty to be straight’ rumour they’ve dug up again.”
“It’ll pass Orli, you know that. All they need is for Tom Cruise to pick on post partum mums again and they’ll be chasing him down. And you *are* too pretty to be straight. It’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before, right Orli?”
“I know. I just felt alone, you know. So I did um, something, really stupid…”
“How stupid?”
“I uh, broke up with Kate kind of publicly, I didn’t mean too, it just kind of happened, and the press were outside and she freaked out calling me a bastard and ran off in tears. Paparazzi loved that one.”
“Fuck Orli.”
“I know Dom, I just couldn’t take her anymore, you know. She kept talking and talking about stuff that was so petty. All this negative shit about other people, she just got off on it and I couldn’t take it anymore. She made a comment about Sean and some new young thing he’s with and I couldn’t take it and I just let fly. It’s a relief really, but I wish I had handled it better, yeah.”
“Well that’s not so bad, that’s what you pay publicists for, to clean up the shit you create and make it smell like roses. Isn’t’ that what you told me? I’m sure he’ll spin it for you.”
“Um, well yeah, but that’s where the stupid part comes in.”
“Oh. The dumping Kate thing wasn’t the stupid part?”
“Yeah, how I did it was stupid, but I, um… I didn’t tell Mike what happened right away and I just wanted to be with people I could trust, you know. So, I um, booked a flight to Vancouver and I’m on way to Whistler to see you and Lij. But it’s snowing and I’m stuck in this little town about half way there and the driver isn’t really a driver, apparently he’s some artist guy who treats me like I’m just, I don’t know, like Orli from Guildhall not Orlando Bloom, movie star. And he’s just doing Mike a favour by picking me up and I feel like a total ass because I thought he was this chauffeur guy and not just a guy, guy. Now I find out that it’s fucking Gay ski week and there’s no way I come to see you now, the press would crucify me. So I’m stuck here and I don’t know what to do Dom. I’ve just fucked everything up.”
“Wait Orli, slow down. You’re *here*?”
“Well not there exactly but close, yeah.”
“Where are you staying?”
“I don’t know I kinda figured I bunk with you guys for the first night and find something after that. But now I can’t be seen there, not now with everything else going on.”
“Um Orli, Whistler is booked to the rafters, you wouldn’t be able to find a place if you wanted to. We’ll have to think of something else.”
“I think maybe I’ll just go back, you know. This was just a bad idea, another top notch Orli fuck up. I just wanted to be with you guys, have some fun for a bit, until things die down and when you left a message a couple of nights ago you sounded like you were having so much fun that it just made sense at the time, but I guess not eh.”
“Shit Orli, don’t go back. We’ll figure something out. This thing only goes two more days and we’re here for another week, can’t you just lay low for two days and then it won’t matter if you’re here. It’ll take the press a couple of days to figure out that you’re here anyway. Call Mike; see if he can swing something for you. Maybe he can find you a private residence you can camp out in. Just stay Orli, Lij and I will cheer you up, and the snowboarding is fabulous we can find some hot ski-bunny for you to bolster your masculine image.”
“I couldn’t call Mike. He’s uh, a little annoyed at me right now. I know that’s what I pay him for but it sounds like he had to call a personal friend to do him this favour and the friend isn’t exactly pleased to be helping him out.”
“That’s the artist guy?”
“Yeah, but fuck how was I to know. He actually seems pretty nice, I just, I don’t know, fucked that up too. Mike might not be inclined to help.”
“Orli, you pay Mike to *help*. “Listen, we’re just on our way from a pre-bash to the Gala so why don’t you stay where you are tonight and come up in the morning we’ll be able to work things out then. Just don’t go home Orli, we want you here, we want to help, we’re family you know that, silly elf.”
“I know Dommie, I love you guys. Give Lij a snog for me, not that you need an excuse you perv. Hey get your tongue out of his mouth, I’m talking to you. Dom I can hear you. Fuck that’s gross.”
“Jealous much.”
“Horny Hobbit”
“Prissy Elf”
“I’ll call you tomorrow Dom, and uh, thanks.”
“We love you Orli, you know that. We’ll work things out”
“I know, love you guys too.”
Orlando slowly closed the phone and slid down the outer wall of the restaurant until he was sitting on his heels with his arms hugging his knees. What a complete fuck up this was. He really didn’t want to go back inside and face Viggo and he knew he couldn’t stay outside much longer. He shivered at the sudden realization of how cold he was. Orlando felt his eyes begin to well with tears and he fought to keep them from spilling down his cheeks. He would not cry. He wasn’t always this much of a fuck up. Hell, he got up and walked after being told he never would again. He got the role in Rings straight out of Guildhall. He was capable of doing for himself, he knew he was. He just needed to remember exactly how to do that.
The door of the restaurant opened and Viggo came out and leaned against the wall next to the huddled figure. Orlando didn’t look up; instead he continued to look out over the snow covered parking lot without a word. After a quiet minute, Viggo slid down the wall to crouch next to Orlando and followed his gaze to the stand of snow covered trees across the way.
“I love the smell of snow.” He began tentatively and when he didn’t get either a positive or negative reaction he continued. “There is something about the snow that makes everything seem magical, fresh and beautiful. Take that cedar out there.” He pointed out the tallest tree across the way. “It almost seems to glow with the snow covering it – it’s beautiful, like it’s the king of the all the other trees around it. Tall. Proud. Majestic.” Viggo paused hoping he wouldn’t be pushing things. “Tomorrow, in the harsh light of the day, when the snow starts to melt, you’d be able to see that the tree is actually dead, brown and, some would say ugly, diseased and should be discarded. It’s only if you took the time to really look closely, that you might see something more. You know what I see?” Knowing he wouldn’t get an answer he continued. “I see a second chance at life. There’s a pair of eagles that return every year to nest there and raise their young. And at its base there’s a young cedar that is growing out of hole in the trunk that is already twenty feet tall and six inches around. That’s what I see. A chance for growth where there is rot; a fresh start; possibilities.” Viggo had spoken from the heart, hoping that Orlando could see that there were always possibilities if you sought them out.
He looked over at Orlando and smiled at the snow covered cap that had been hastily jammed on the curly head when he stormed out of the restaurant. The curls were revolting against the confinement and escaping in all directions making him seem far younger than he was. If circumstances had been different Viggo would have offered an arm in comfort drawing Orlando close and holding him until the world seemed a kinder place. But things weren’t different and all he could offer were words and trust Orlando could find solace in them and understand that he wasn’t an enemy and if allowed, he could be a friend.
Orlando didn’t move, he sat and stared at the snow as if Viggo hadn’t even spoken. His chest tightened and he fought to control his breathing as his mind whirled. He recognized that Viggo wasn’t just waxing poetic about the snow and trees, he knew on some level that he was making reference to him; he also realized that he was just too fucked up right now to figure it out.
“Orlando, I can’t pretend to know what ever it is you’re going through, hell I don’t even know you. I just, well, I wish I hadn’t led you to believe, or um rather not explained to you that I wasn’t a driver. I didn’t mean for it to be a joke at your expense. I’m sorry.” Orlando shivered, not sure if it was from the cold or from the kindness in the voice next to him. It would be so easy to think that Viggo cared on some level but Orlando knew that was impossible, he was a stranger after all and it wouldn’t take long for him get to know the real Orlando, the one that did stupid things, that was thoughtless and inconsiderate.
Viggo stood up slowly and turned to the younger man. ”Orlando, will you come back inside with me?” He asked offering his hand. Orland looked up. Viggo’s face was shadowed in darkness and light from the parking lot outlined his silhouette giving him a slight glow, and the relaxed posture of his broad frame was comforting. In that moment, Orlando made the decision to place his trust in this stranger. He took the hand and barely audibly, he whispered “Thank you.”
Back inside Orli realized that the place was now empty except for a table in the back corner which held the wait and kitchen staff who were laughing and sharing a drink. Viggo placed his hand on Orlando’s back and steered him to a darkened section of the restaurant, grabbing a still lit candle from one of the other tables to light their way. Bathed in the flickering glow of candle light Viggo became aware of how young and vulnerable Orlando looked. As if in a daze he reached over and tugged the black knit cap off, letting the silken curls escape from their bonds. Startled Orlando looked up and furrowed his brow at Viggo.
“I, uh, it was wet.” Viggo explained lamely, laying the hat across the back of the chair next to him as if to let it dry. Orlando shrugged and slipped off his wet, and now heavy, coat and rubbed himself to get warm, his hands finally coming to rest under his arms in search of body heat.
“What now?” he mumbled not raising his eyes to meet Viggo’s.
“Well I guess we need to figure out if you want to stay the night here or get back on the highway and head to Whistler.”
“I’m not sure I even want to go to Whistler anymore.” Orlando murmured as he played with a coaster.
“Oh? You want to tell me about that?” Viggo asked softly, placing his hand over Orlando’s to still his fidgeting.
Orlando stared at the hand that covered his, trying to read the ink scribbles and enjoying the soft warmth. “Well, I guess, um, you’ve already figured out that this wasn’t exactly a planned trip. I just needed to get away and be with my friends, you know. Well I didn’t realize it was Gay Ski Week and well, I just don’t think I should go now.”
Viggo raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to go because Whistler is packed full of gay people? Are you homophobic or something?” He asked in confusion.
“No, god no, not at all. It’s just the press… there’s always been rumours about me and my preferences the whole “too pretty to be straight” angle and showing up here at Gay Ski Week, two days after breaking up with my girlfriend wouldn’t do wonders for my career. Not that breaking up with Kate is going to help it much either but this would just be the icing on the cake, you know.”
Relieved Viggo squeezed Orlando’s hand. “Wait a second, slow down let me get this straight. You broke up with your girlfriend and the press, who like to speculate on who you sleep with outside of that relationship, would likely take the huge leap into thinking your gay because you happen to be in a resort town that’s hosting a week of ski activities for the gay community? And this would negatively affect your career because…”
“Think about it mate, screaming fan-girls are hardly going to pay money to make googly eyes at some poof pretending to be straight – that’s not even taking into consideration how many guys it would scare away. Whether it’s actually true or not, is cold comfort to the studios footing the bill to make the movies.” Orlando still wouldn’t look at him, instead he stared into the flame of the candle, the warm glow reflected in his eyes beneath the veil of full dark lashes.
Viggo realized he was still holding onto Orlando’s hand and reluctantly removed it. “So between the press and the studios, they dictate who you sleep with? I guess I never really took the time to think about the workings of Hollywood. If that’s the case, it really sucks.”
“I don’t know, it’s not that bad. I’m really lucky to be doing what I do, you know. I love making movies, I love the things the being in this industry affords me to do. It really isn’t that big a deal, usually.” Viggo studied the younger man closely. It sounded distinctly like Orlando was trying to convince himself as much as Viggo.
“Well as long as you’re okay with it. Wow, I’m still wrapping my brain around this. I don’t think I could let someone or something have that much control over my personal relationships. It must have been really hard on you and your girlfriend.” Viggo continued compassionately.
At the mention of ‘girlfriend’, Orlando began to squirm uncomfortably and for a brief second he looked up and met Viggo’s sympathetic gaze. Somehow it didn’t feel right to accept sympathy from this man for something that was, well, less than sympathetic.
“Um, Kate wasn’t my girlfriend in, um, the true sense of the word. We were introduced by the studio. Good career move for me, keeps the ‘is he straight or is he gay’ rumours at bay and good career move for her because of the publicity I get.” Orlando stared out the window for a moment remembering how the studio first approached him and how appalled he was at the suggestion. Then Mike had urged him to consider it, outlining how it could give him more freedom not less and that gave him the push he needed to agree.
“Set up? Holy shit, how long did you guys do this for? They really did have a say in who you fucked. Sorry, I’m just assuming you slept together – guess that’s none of my business. I’m just a little out of my depth here.” Feeling foolish that he was so naive about this sort of thing.
“Well at first it was strictly for promotional things like premieres or parties and it went from there. We were more friends than anything, she’s a nice girl just, um, I don’t know, frivolous. Not very much depth for anything more, really. After a while, if we were both drunk enough, we occasionally slept together. Though what either of us got out of it is beyond me, more of a courtesy fuck, really.” Orlando shrugged as if it were no big deal but Viggo wasn’t buying it. Whether Orlando acknowledged it or not the relationship had taken it’s toll on his self esteem.
“So why the break up? Never mind, it’s none of my business. Look Orlando, whatever your worries are about Whistler, if you really want to go and see your friends, we can work something out. If you really just want to go home, I’ll drive you back to the airport, Okay? I just need to know what you want.” Viggo really did want to know, he wanted to know a lot of things. Like who made Orlando feel so lost, and who made him think that he wasn’t worthy of finding someone ‘good enough’ to love on his own. There was something about this beautiful young man that brought out a protective side to Viggo, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Orlando looked up and held Viggo’s gaze searching for any hints of pity. Wanting so much to trust and believe in someone right now. Finding nothing but concern, he chewed his bottom lip and reached out to play with the glass candle holder sitting between them, and ended up splashing wax on his slender hand. “Fuck.” He yelped as he pulled the thin skin of cooled wax from his hand.
Viggo smiled “Are you always this… accident prone?” Orlando looked up sheepishly. “Um, yeah, to some extent. It gets worse when I’m stressed or tired. The hobbits always tease me that I have the grace of a drunken Dwarf instead of an elegant Elf. Which probably makes no sense to you unless you’ve seen the movies, yeah?”.
“I’ve seen the movies. As I recall you were very graceful on screen, though your natural curls suit you much better than the blond Elf tresses. And hey Hobbits are ones to talk with their big, clumsy, hairy feet.” He said with a grin.
Orlando giggled – a true giggle that lit up his whole face. The effect was stunning. If Viggo wasn’t already sitting, his knees would have gone weak. The face in front of him had transformed and radiated innocence and pure joy, more of what Viggo would have expected from the description he had heard from Sean. Fuck, Sean. Viggo suddenly struggled with knowing he had with held the fact that he was close with Sean, from Orlando. It certainly wasn’t meant to be a secret and now after finally making progress and getting the young man to trust him, he was reluctant to do anything to hamper that. Viggo knew he would have to tell Orlando wanting to be as honest as possible with him, just how to do that wasn’t clear at this point. More than anything, Viggo wanted to see that smile one more time before telling him. “So, now that I’ve got you to smile, what do you say; stay or go?”
Orlando eyes became pensive again as he thought about the options. “Truthfully, I really want to see my friends. I just don’t have anywhere to stay and staying with them at the hotel just isn’t an option right now, with the press and everything. So, my options are to call Mike and see if he can arrange something for me at, um, 10:00 pm on a Friday night or I go home. Either one isn’t all that appealing to me.” He finished sadly.
“Wow that is a problem. The resort is packed. I’m not sure even Mike could pull enough strings to find you something this late – even Mike’s brother Brian who knows everyone would have a problem tonight. How does this sound, you can stay with me tonight and then, in the morning, you can call Mike and make whatever arrangements you need to. Does that work for you?” Viggo smiled encouragingly.
“You’d do that for me? Really?” Orlando’s eyes were wide in astonishment.
“Well I do have a condition if you agree.” Orlando looked crest fallen, he knew it. There were always conditions. Everyone wanted something, it was just a matter of time before he found out what the cost would be. “What condition?” he asked, his voice hardening.
“Help me unload your bags when we get there?” Viggo asked with a grin.
Orlando laughed and the good graces to look a little sheepish. “Well as long as you have someone who’s shoveled your drive mate, otherwise I’ll be arse over tea-kettle in a snow bank with all those bags. It’s only a rumour, you know, that Elves can walk on top of snow.” Again Viggo was mesmerized by the transformation the laughter had on the youth. It was infectious and Viggo found himself grinning like a fool. “I’m sure you’d make a pretty snow angel. I could leave you there, sort of the Canadian version of a garden gnome.”
Orlando giggled again and then glanced out the window. “What about the roads? How soon do you think we can leave?”
“Right now if you want. It’s only a road advisory, I’ve driven in worse. If you really want to go, I have no problem getting us there.” Viggo answered reassuringly.
“Great, just let me pay for dinner.”
“Already looked after. Let me just say goodbye to Lola and Jamie and we’ll hit the road.”
Once back in the car, Orlando found as the vehicle warmed up his eyes grew heavier. He fought to stay awake, to be some sort of company as Viggo drove through the dark, snowy night sleep making it difficult to make conversation. “Are you really an artist?” He asked referring back to the conversation he had overheard.
“Yup, I really am.” Viggo looked over at the man next to him as he snuggled deeper in his seat, fighting to stay awake. His curls creating halo of mayhem around his head, as he wadded up his scarf for a pillow. His eyes were fluttered shut and his pink lips parted as he sighed softly. Viggo couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone so beautiful. It made him ache for his camera and paints.
“What do you do?” Murmured the sleepy figure.
“Mostly I paint and I dabble in photography. Though I have been know to write poetry, as well.”
“mmm, what do you write about?” Orlando barely got the words out around a yawn.
Viggo reached over and with one hand and snugged Orlando’s jacket up around his chin like a blanket and smoothed it down over the lightly sleeping figure. “I write about beautiful things.” He whispered to no one in particular. Viggo turned his eyes back to the road and realized that he needed to understand whatever feelings Orlando had stirred up in him. Knowing that extending anything other than friendship to this confused and possibly addicted young man would be out of the question, even if his own physical and emotional wounds had been healed -- which he knew they had not. Pushing everything else out of his mind, he concentrated on driving. Soon, Viggo began to hum softly to himself for what he realized was the first time in years.
TBC
Chapter: 3/?
Author: Rocketbalm
Pairing: OB/VM
Rating: PG-13ish for language
Summary: Some feelings are hurt, some are soothed and others discovered.
Content/warnings: AU, Angst, romance and eventually M/M sex
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Blatantly not true, fiction
fic•tion (fik shen)
An imaginative creation or a pretense that does not represent actuality but has been invented. A lie. A literary work whose content is produced by the imagination and is not necessarily based on fact.
Chapter 3
Laughing with Jamie, Viggo shifted his gaze to the table he had been sharing with Orlando. The young man who had been quite enjoying his meal when he left, in spite of the uneasy silence they had shared, now seemed to be in distressed with his head in his hands. A look of concern crossed Viggo’s face, not knowing what was wrong but knowing he wanted to offer Orlando a measure of comfort. Excusing himself, he quickly crossed the floor and squatted next to the chair in which he sat and placing a gentle hand on the well muscled back and asked, “Hey, are….”
Before Viggo could finish, Orlando jerked away from his touch and snapped, “I’m fine, just leave me the fuck alone. I certainly don’t need your pity, I’m sure that wasn’t included in Mike’s request for a favour.” His coffee brown eyes darkened and crackled with emotion. Viggo saw hurt and anger bleed together and meld into bitterness and distinct distrust. The shock of the venom in which the words were spoken twisted into Viggo’s gentle soul. No matter how much of a pain the kid was, he hadn’t meant do anything to hurt him. Realizing that his conversation had been overheard he searched for something to say knowing it would be hard to undo the damage already done. As the two men continued to stare at each other, one in anger; the other contrition they were jostled back to the present by the shrill ring of a mobile phone.
Orlando looked at the incoming number before answering the phone with, “Fuck Dom, about fucking time you called. Why the hell haven’t you been answering your phone?” He paused to roll his eyes at the answer before interrupting the caller. “Hang on a minute I have to find somewhere I can talk, too many people I can’t *trust* around here.” Glaring at Viggo as he emphasized the word trust. Orlando grabbed his jacket and went out into the snow leaving Viggo to stare after him with a tinge of regret.
“Dom where the hell are you, it sounds like a huge fucking party.”
“It is a huge fuckin’ party Orli, a gathering of snowbound ponces the likes of which you’ve never seen.”
“Well why didn’t you and ‘Lijah tell me you were going to some fucking Gay extravaganza?”
“We did tell you Orli. We told you all about it last month when we booked in. At the time you laughed and said it sounded fun. What were you monged out of your skull again and can’t remember or what? And why should you care if Elwood and I go to a fruit festival – it’s not like we’re a secret anymore. Why the frantic phone calls Orli, what’s happened?”
“I left Kate.”
“Oh. That’s a good thing right? I mean it’s not like you loved her or anything, right? So why the melt down?”
“The press are all over it. What an asshole I am leaving her right after the disaster of her last movie and there’s the whole ‘he’s too pretty to be straight’ rumour they’ve dug up again.”
“It’ll pass Orli, you know that. All they need is for Tom Cruise to pick on post partum mums again and they’ll be chasing him down. And you *are* too pretty to be straight. It’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before, right Orli?”
“I know. I just felt alone, you know. So I did um, something, really stupid…”
“How stupid?”
“I uh, broke up with Kate kind of publicly, I didn’t mean too, it just kind of happened, and the press were outside and she freaked out calling me a bastard and ran off in tears. Paparazzi loved that one.”
“Fuck Orli.”
“I know Dom, I just couldn’t take her anymore, you know. She kept talking and talking about stuff that was so petty. All this negative shit about other people, she just got off on it and I couldn’t take it anymore. She made a comment about Sean and some new young thing he’s with and I couldn’t take it and I just let fly. It’s a relief really, but I wish I had handled it better, yeah.”
“Well that’s not so bad, that’s what you pay publicists for, to clean up the shit you create and make it smell like roses. Isn’t’ that what you told me? I’m sure he’ll spin it for you.”
“Um, well yeah, but that’s where the stupid part comes in.”
“Oh. The dumping Kate thing wasn’t the stupid part?”
“Yeah, how I did it was stupid, but I, um… I didn’t tell Mike what happened right away and I just wanted to be with people I could trust, you know. So, I um, booked a flight to Vancouver and I’m on way to Whistler to see you and Lij. But it’s snowing and I’m stuck in this little town about half way there and the driver isn’t really a driver, apparently he’s some artist guy who treats me like I’m just, I don’t know, like Orli from Guildhall not Orlando Bloom, movie star. And he’s just doing Mike a favour by picking me up and I feel like a total ass because I thought he was this chauffeur guy and not just a guy, guy. Now I find out that it’s fucking Gay ski week and there’s no way I come to see you now, the press would crucify me. So I’m stuck here and I don’t know what to do Dom. I’ve just fucked everything up.”
“Wait Orli, slow down. You’re *here*?”
“Well not there exactly but close, yeah.”
“Where are you staying?”
“I don’t know I kinda figured I bunk with you guys for the first night and find something after that. But now I can’t be seen there, not now with everything else going on.”
“Um Orli, Whistler is booked to the rafters, you wouldn’t be able to find a place if you wanted to. We’ll have to think of something else.”
“I think maybe I’ll just go back, you know. This was just a bad idea, another top notch Orli fuck up. I just wanted to be with you guys, have some fun for a bit, until things die down and when you left a message a couple of nights ago you sounded like you were having so much fun that it just made sense at the time, but I guess not eh.”
“Shit Orli, don’t go back. We’ll figure something out. This thing only goes two more days and we’re here for another week, can’t you just lay low for two days and then it won’t matter if you’re here. It’ll take the press a couple of days to figure out that you’re here anyway. Call Mike; see if he can swing something for you. Maybe he can find you a private residence you can camp out in. Just stay Orli, Lij and I will cheer you up, and the snowboarding is fabulous we can find some hot ski-bunny for you to bolster your masculine image.”
“I couldn’t call Mike. He’s uh, a little annoyed at me right now. I know that’s what I pay him for but it sounds like he had to call a personal friend to do him this favour and the friend isn’t exactly pleased to be helping him out.”
“That’s the artist guy?”
“Yeah, but fuck how was I to know. He actually seems pretty nice, I just, I don’t know, fucked that up too. Mike might not be inclined to help.”
“Orli, you pay Mike to *help*. “Listen, we’re just on our way from a pre-bash to the Gala so why don’t you stay where you are tonight and come up in the morning we’ll be able to work things out then. Just don’t go home Orli, we want you here, we want to help, we’re family you know that, silly elf.”
“I know Dommie, I love you guys. Give Lij a snog for me, not that you need an excuse you perv. Hey get your tongue out of his mouth, I’m talking to you. Dom I can hear you. Fuck that’s gross.”
“Jealous much.”
“Horny Hobbit”
“Prissy Elf”
“I’ll call you tomorrow Dom, and uh, thanks.”
“We love you Orli, you know that. We’ll work things out”
“I know, love you guys too.”
Orlando slowly closed the phone and slid down the outer wall of the restaurant until he was sitting on his heels with his arms hugging his knees. What a complete fuck up this was. He really didn’t want to go back inside and face Viggo and he knew he couldn’t stay outside much longer. He shivered at the sudden realization of how cold he was. Orlando felt his eyes begin to well with tears and he fought to keep them from spilling down his cheeks. He would not cry. He wasn’t always this much of a fuck up. Hell, he got up and walked after being told he never would again. He got the role in Rings straight out of Guildhall. He was capable of doing for himself, he knew he was. He just needed to remember exactly how to do that.
The door of the restaurant opened and Viggo came out and leaned against the wall next to the huddled figure. Orlando didn’t look up; instead he continued to look out over the snow covered parking lot without a word. After a quiet minute, Viggo slid down the wall to crouch next to Orlando and followed his gaze to the stand of snow covered trees across the way.
“I love the smell of snow.” He began tentatively and when he didn’t get either a positive or negative reaction he continued. “There is something about the snow that makes everything seem magical, fresh and beautiful. Take that cedar out there.” He pointed out the tallest tree across the way. “It almost seems to glow with the snow covering it – it’s beautiful, like it’s the king of the all the other trees around it. Tall. Proud. Majestic.” Viggo paused hoping he wouldn’t be pushing things. “Tomorrow, in the harsh light of the day, when the snow starts to melt, you’d be able to see that the tree is actually dead, brown and, some would say ugly, diseased and should be discarded. It’s only if you took the time to really look closely, that you might see something more. You know what I see?” Knowing he wouldn’t get an answer he continued. “I see a second chance at life. There’s a pair of eagles that return every year to nest there and raise their young. And at its base there’s a young cedar that is growing out of hole in the trunk that is already twenty feet tall and six inches around. That’s what I see. A chance for growth where there is rot; a fresh start; possibilities.” Viggo had spoken from the heart, hoping that Orlando could see that there were always possibilities if you sought them out.
He looked over at Orlando and smiled at the snow covered cap that had been hastily jammed on the curly head when he stormed out of the restaurant. The curls were revolting against the confinement and escaping in all directions making him seem far younger than he was. If circumstances had been different Viggo would have offered an arm in comfort drawing Orlando close and holding him until the world seemed a kinder place. But things weren’t different and all he could offer were words and trust Orlando could find solace in them and understand that he wasn’t an enemy and if allowed, he could be a friend.
Orlando didn’t move, he sat and stared at the snow as if Viggo hadn’t even spoken. His chest tightened and he fought to control his breathing as his mind whirled. He recognized that Viggo wasn’t just waxing poetic about the snow and trees, he knew on some level that he was making reference to him; he also realized that he was just too fucked up right now to figure it out.
“Orlando, I can’t pretend to know what ever it is you’re going through, hell I don’t even know you. I just, well, I wish I hadn’t led you to believe, or um rather not explained to you that I wasn’t a driver. I didn’t mean for it to be a joke at your expense. I’m sorry.” Orlando shivered, not sure if it was from the cold or from the kindness in the voice next to him. It would be so easy to think that Viggo cared on some level but Orlando knew that was impossible, he was a stranger after all and it wouldn’t take long for him get to know the real Orlando, the one that did stupid things, that was thoughtless and inconsiderate.
Viggo stood up slowly and turned to the younger man. ”Orlando, will you come back inside with me?” He asked offering his hand. Orland looked up. Viggo’s face was shadowed in darkness and light from the parking lot outlined his silhouette giving him a slight glow, and the relaxed posture of his broad frame was comforting. In that moment, Orlando made the decision to place his trust in this stranger. He took the hand and barely audibly, he whispered “Thank you.”
Back inside Orli realized that the place was now empty except for a table in the back corner which held the wait and kitchen staff who were laughing and sharing a drink. Viggo placed his hand on Orlando’s back and steered him to a darkened section of the restaurant, grabbing a still lit candle from one of the other tables to light their way. Bathed in the flickering glow of candle light Viggo became aware of how young and vulnerable Orlando looked. As if in a daze he reached over and tugged the black knit cap off, letting the silken curls escape from their bonds. Startled Orlando looked up and furrowed his brow at Viggo.
“I, uh, it was wet.” Viggo explained lamely, laying the hat across the back of the chair next to him as if to let it dry. Orlando shrugged and slipped off his wet, and now heavy, coat and rubbed himself to get warm, his hands finally coming to rest under his arms in search of body heat.
“What now?” he mumbled not raising his eyes to meet Viggo’s.
“Well I guess we need to figure out if you want to stay the night here or get back on the highway and head to Whistler.”
“I’m not sure I even want to go to Whistler anymore.” Orlando murmured as he played with a coaster.
“Oh? You want to tell me about that?” Viggo asked softly, placing his hand over Orlando’s to still his fidgeting.
Orlando stared at the hand that covered his, trying to read the ink scribbles and enjoying the soft warmth. “Well, I guess, um, you’ve already figured out that this wasn’t exactly a planned trip. I just needed to get away and be with my friends, you know. Well I didn’t realize it was Gay Ski Week and well, I just don’t think I should go now.”
Viggo raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to go because Whistler is packed full of gay people? Are you homophobic or something?” He asked in confusion.
“No, god no, not at all. It’s just the press… there’s always been rumours about me and my preferences the whole “too pretty to be straight” angle and showing up here at Gay Ski Week, two days after breaking up with my girlfriend wouldn’t do wonders for my career. Not that breaking up with Kate is going to help it much either but this would just be the icing on the cake, you know.”
Relieved Viggo squeezed Orlando’s hand. “Wait a second, slow down let me get this straight. You broke up with your girlfriend and the press, who like to speculate on who you sleep with outside of that relationship, would likely take the huge leap into thinking your gay because you happen to be in a resort town that’s hosting a week of ski activities for the gay community? And this would negatively affect your career because…”
“Think about it mate, screaming fan-girls are hardly going to pay money to make googly eyes at some poof pretending to be straight – that’s not even taking into consideration how many guys it would scare away. Whether it’s actually true or not, is cold comfort to the studios footing the bill to make the movies.” Orlando still wouldn’t look at him, instead he stared into the flame of the candle, the warm glow reflected in his eyes beneath the veil of full dark lashes.
Viggo realized he was still holding onto Orlando’s hand and reluctantly removed it. “So between the press and the studios, they dictate who you sleep with? I guess I never really took the time to think about the workings of Hollywood. If that’s the case, it really sucks.”
“I don’t know, it’s not that bad. I’m really lucky to be doing what I do, you know. I love making movies, I love the things the being in this industry affords me to do. It really isn’t that big a deal, usually.” Viggo studied the younger man closely. It sounded distinctly like Orlando was trying to convince himself as much as Viggo.
“Well as long as you’re okay with it. Wow, I’m still wrapping my brain around this. I don’t think I could let someone or something have that much control over my personal relationships. It must have been really hard on you and your girlfriend.” Viggo continued compassionately.
At the mention of ‘girlfriend’, Orlando began to squirm uncomfortably and for a brief second he looked up and met Viggo’s sympathetic gaze. Somehow it didn’t feel right to accept sympathy from this man for something that was, well, less than sympathetic.
“Um, Kate wasn’t my girlfriend in, um, the true sense of the word. We were introduced by the studio. Good career move for me, keeps the ‘is he straight or is he gay’ rumours at bay and good career move for her because of the publicity I get.” Orlando stared out the window for a moment remembering how the studio first approached him and how appalled he was at the suggestion. Then Mike had urged him to consider it, outlining how it could give him more freedom not less and that gave him the push he needed to agree.
“Set up? Holy shit, how long did you guys do this for? They really did have a say in who you fucked. Sorry, I’m just assuming you slept together – guess that’s none of my business. I’m just a little out of my depth here.” Feeling foolish that he was so naive about this sort of thing.
“Well at first it was strictly for promotional things like premieres or parties and it went from there. We were more friends than anything, she’s a nice girl just, um, I don’t know, frivolous. Not very much depth for anything more, really. After a while, if we were both drunk enough, we occasionally slept together. Though what either of us got out of it is beyond me, more of a courtesy fuck, really.” Orlando shrugged as if it were no big deal but Viggo wasn’t buying it. Whether Orlando acknowledged it or not the relationship had taken it’s toll on his self esteem.
“So why the break up? Never mind, it’s none of my business. Look Orlando, whatever your worries are about Whistler, if you really want to go and see your friends, we can work something out. If you really just want to go home, I’ll drive you back to the airport, Okay? I just need to know what you want.” Viggo really did want to know, he wanted to know a lot of things. Like who made Orlando feel so lost, and who made him think that he wasn’t worthy of finding someone ‘good enough’ to love on his own. There was something about this beautiful young man that brought out a protective side to Viggo, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Orlando looked up and held Viggo’s gaze searching for any hints of pity. Wanting so much to trust and believe in someone right now. Finding nothing but concern, he chewed his bottom lip and reached out to play with the glass candle holder sitting between them, and ended up splashing wax on his slender hand. “Fuck.” He yelped as he pulled the thin skin of cooled wax from his hand.
Viggo smiled “Are you always this… accident prone?” Orlando looked up sheepishly. “Um, yeah, to some extent. It gets worse when I’m stressed or tired. The hobbits always tease me that I have the grace of a drunken Dwarf instead of an elegant Elf. Which probably makes no sense to you unless you’ve seen the movies, yeah?”.
“I’ve seen the movies. As I recall you were very graceful on screen, though your natural curls suit you much better than the blond Elf tresses. And hey Hobbits are ones to talk with their big, clumsy, hairy feet.” He said with a grin.
Orlando giggled – a true giggle that lit up his whole face. The effect was stunning. If Viggo wasn’t already sitting, his knees would have gone weak. The face in front of him had transformed and radiated innocence and pure joy, more of what Viggo would have expected from the description he had heard from Sean. Fuck, Sean. Viggo suddenly struggled with knowing he had with held the fact that he was close with Sean, from Orlando. It certainly wasn’t meant to be a secret and now after finally making progress and getting the young man to trust him, he was reluctant to do anything to hamper that. Viggo knew he would have to tell Orlando wanting to be as honest as possible with him, just how to do that wasn’t clear at this point. More than anything, Viggo wanted to see that smile one more time before telling him. “So, now that I’ve got you to smile, what do you say; stay or go?”
Orlando eyes became pensive again as he thought about the options. “Truthfully, I really want to see my friends. I just don’t have anywhere to stay and staying with them at the hotel just isn’t an option right now, with the press and everything. So, my options are to call Mike and see if he can arrange something for me at, um, 10:00 pm on a Friday night or I go home. Either one isn’t all that appealing to me.” He finished sadly.
“Wow that is a problem. The resort is packed. I’m not sure even Mike could pull enough strings to find you something this late – even Mike’s brother Brian who knows everyone would have a problem tonight. How does this sound, you can stay with me tonight and then, in the morning, you can call Mike and make whatever arrangements you need to. Does that work for you?” Viggo smiled encouragingly.
“You’d do that for me? Really?” Orlando’s eyes were wide in astonishment.
“Well I do have a condition if you agree.” Orlando looked crest fallen, he knew it. There were always conditions. Everyone wanted something, it was just a matter of time before he found out what the cost would be. “What condition?” he asked, his voice hardening.
“Help me unload your bags when we get there?” Viggo asked with a grin.
Orlando laughed and the good graces to look a little sheepish. “Well as long as you have someone who’s shoveled your drive mate, otherwise I’ll be arse over tea-kettle in a snow bank with all those bags. It’s only a rumour, you know, that Elves can walk on top of snow.” Again Viggo was mesmerized by the transformation the laughter had on the youth. It was infectious and Viggo found himself grinning like a fool. “I’m sure you’d make a pretty snow angel. I could leave you there, sort of the Canadian version of a garden gnome.”
Orlando giggled again and then glanced out the window. “What about the roads? How soon do you think we can leave?”
“Right now if you want. It’s only a road advisory, I’ve driven in worse. If you really want to go, I have no problem getting us there.” Viggo answered reassuringly.
“Great, just let me pay for dinner.”
“Already looked after. Let me just say goodbye to Lola and Jamie and we’ll hit the road.”
Once back in the car, Orlando found as the vehicle warmed up his eyes grew heavier. He fought to stay awake, to be some sort of company as Viggo drove through the dark, snowy night sleep making it difficult to make conversation. “Are you really an artist?” He asked referring back to the conversation he had overheard.
“Yup, I really am.” Viggo looked over at the man next to him as he snuggled deeper in his seat, fighting to stay awake. His curls creating halo of mayhem around his head, as he wadded up his scarf for a pillow. His eyes were fluttered shut and his pink lips parted as he sighed softly. Viggo couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone so beautiful. It made him ache for his camera and paints.
“What do you do?” Murmured the sleepy figure.
“Mostly I paint and I dabble in photography. Though I have been know to write poetry, as well.”
“mmm, what do you write about?” Orlando barely got the words out around a yawn.
Viggo reached over and with one hand and snugged Orlando’s jacket up around his chin like a blanket and smoothed it down over the lightly sleeping figure. “I write about beautiful things.” He whispered to no one in particular. Viggo turned his eyes back to the road and realized that he needed to understand whatever feelings Orlando had stirred up in him. Knowing that extending anything other than friendship to this confused and possibly addicted young man would be out of the question, even if his own physical and emotional wounds had been healed -- which he knew they had not. Pushing everything else out of his mind, he concentrated on driving. Soon, Viggo began to hum softly to himself for what he realized was the first time in years.
TBC
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}