Slippery Slope 7/?
Aug. 17th, 2005 10:16 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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vigorliTitle: Slippery Slope
Chapter: 7/?
Author: Rocketbalm
Pairing: OB/VM
Rating: R for language
Summary: A conversation; Kate; and a kiss – there is no het real or implied…
Content/warnings: AU
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 7
Brian and Orlando returned with dinner, wine and beer in paper sacks over-flowing with all sorts of things to tempt the palette. Orlando had really enjoyed his time with Brian, and quickly realized why Viggo had been friends with him for so long. Not only was he engaging and completely irreverent, he was also unimposing and easy to talk to, which helped to calm Orlando before they returned home. Brian burst through the door calling for Viggo to get off his ‘artistic ass’ and come help them, in contrast to Orlando who entered more sedately with a little trepidation. He was uncomfortable and unsure how to act around the older man after their emotional morning and then hearing Brian’s confirmation that Viggo was indeed interested in men.
Sensing Orlando’s awkwardness Viggo immediately tried to put him at ease when he walked into the kitchen carrying the beer and wine. Gently he grabbed Orlando’s arm and said softly, "I’m glad you’re back.” As if he wasn’t exactly sure that Orlando would come back and was pleased he had. Grateful for the gesture, Orlando blushed and ducked his head and murmured, “Me too.”
Dinner had been a casual affair with everyone piling around the huge wooden table, cartons of food being passed back and forth and enough wine and beer to mellow everyone out. Orlando was enjoying have the hobbits underfoot, but felt he was always a few steps behind in the conversation, almost an outsider looking in, not really comfortable in his own skin. As the evening wore on the two Hobbits had curled up together on the couch, exhausted from all the activities of the Altitude festival. Between Dom, Elijah and Brian they shared stories from the events they had participated in -- everything from Uniform night where the dress code was latex and leather to The Amazing Hunt, a scavenger hunt on the slopes -- and now were content to relax, reminisce and regroup. Viggo smiled indulgently as the younger men laughed about the drunken debauchery of the last week while he studied Orli who couldn’t seem to get comfortable and was remarkably quiet.
The evening was only marred by two things. The first was Orlando’s phone kept ringing and the caller ID showed it was Kate. The last thing Orlando wanted to do was talk to her, not that he hated her or anything like that, he just didn’t want to deal with her right now. The second had come after dinner when Orli excused himself to go the bathroom. At first he thought he was just imagined that Viggo somehow knew he was going to take his pills and could feel his eyes follow him, but on his return, Viggo’s comment left no doubt as to what Viggo believed. He had smiled thinly at Orlando and told him that if his back was sore he was welcome to use the hot tub off of the solarium for relief. Orlando froze not knowing really what to say, when Dom came to his rescue and diverted the conversation, explaining that Orlando had an aversion to hot tubs since he had walked in and found them fooling around in one in New Zealand. Ever since, hot tubbing had become known as bobbing for hobbits to ensure the image remained burned in Orli’s memory. While everyone laughed at the story, Orlando could feel Viggo’s eyes follow him to the fridge for another beer, adding to his uneasiness.
The rest of the evening was filled with a dose of raucous hilarity followed by a dash of gentle ribbing. Plans were made to spend the next day on the mountain and the evening out on the town leading to the decision for everyone to turn in relatively early. When Brian and the Hobbits had said their good nights, the two men worked quietly side by side, clearing the dishes; wrapping leftovers and throwing out cartons. Viggo wanted nothing more than to engage Orlando in conversation, to give him reassurance but not wanting to intrude on his thoughts. Finally when the last plate had been put in the dishwasher, Viggo reached for the remaining two thirds, bottle of wine and asked Orlando if he’d share it with him so it wouldn’t go to waste. Nodding in agreement, Orli hopped up and sat on the counter of the island, legs swinging with nervous energy. Viggo poured the last of the wine in two clean glasses and set the bottle aside, while he leaned on the counter opposite Orlando and cocked his head. “You were pretty quiet tonight.” He observed.
“Yeah, I guess. It’s been a long day, you know?” Orlando said taking a sip of wine. “I really enjoyed my time with Brian, though. And having Dom and Lijah here was great, yeah? It’s been a long time since we just hung out."
“Yeah, I sensed that. You seemed, I don’t know, like you were trying to figure out where you fit again. But then like you said, it’s been pretty stressful for you lately.” The artist rested his arm on the counter top and toyed with his glass.
“I… Fuck, how do you do that? It’s like you can see right inside me and put into words what I’m feeling before I can even figure it out. It’s creepy, Vig. Fucking scary is what it is.” Orlando took a big gulp of wine before looking across at Viggo, who shrugged depreciatingly. “Guess I spend a lot of time observing people, doesn’t mean I’m always right. I’ve been wrong more times than I care to remember actually.”
Orlando thought of all the things Brian had told that afternoon, about the sketch he found and he saw the glimmer of pain that hovered beneath the surface as the artist looked up at him. In that moment Orlando shared Viggo’s pain and he found words were tumbling from him, rushing headlong to fill any gap that there was between them.
“I haven’t felt like I belong anywhere in long time. It’s like I can’t remember who Orli really is, like I’ve lost him or pieces of him. I’m always trying to figure out whom to be around different people, you know. The public want ‘Orlando Bloom’, movie star and all around nice guy; the studios just want someone to bring in audiences and not be offensive to anyone; Mike wants me to look and act a certain way; Kate, fuck I don’t know what Kate wanted, I could never figure her out; and my friends, they treat me like I’m going to break or fuck up at every turn, so they hover around waiting to pick up the pieces or clean up the mess. I just don’t know who I am anymore.” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration and pushed his fingertips into his brow massaging it gently.
“It’s weird you know, I sat here tonight and realized I didn’t know who to be with my friends anymore. I can’t remember which story goes with which Orli, like my life is made up of all these little lies that I can’t keep straight anymore. I fucking hate this Vig. I’m so tired all the time, my body just aches, I just feel so weighted down. It’s pathetic you know,” he said rolling his eyes. “I have money, a job I usually love, adoring fans, a family that cares, amazing friends and yet I feel so empty so lost. Fuck, I’m hopeless.” He said bitterly.
“I don’t know… you seem far from hopeless to me. The way I see it, while the situation -- in your words -- may be pathetic, *you* are not.” Viggo hopped up onto the counter across from Orlando, drew one knee up to his chest and rested his barefoot on the edge of the counter, settling in for a long conversation. “I would think it would be difficult to live your life trying to be so many things to so many people; it would be easy to forget who you are for your self. You’re still in there Orli, who you are; who you’re meant to be – that’s not lost and I don’t think you are either. Maybe you just need to remember where to look.” Viggo suggested.
Orlando stared across the narrow walkway between them and suddenly aware how much Viggo’s words mattered to him, really mattered. Somehow in three days they had become, well, Orlando didn’t know what they’d become, but what ever it was, it meant that more than anything, Orlando wanted to believe in Viggo and wanted Viggo to believe in him.
“I can never go back to being that person Vig, even if I remembered what it was like to be plain old Orli, I’m not that person anymore and I don’t know where to start looking for who I am now.” Orlando shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the weariness of the day press down on him.
“No, you’re right, you can’t go back Orli. But I think it’s your foundation, a place to start.” Viggo set his glass down and put his chin on his knee and mused. “Maybe if you can find out who you were, you can take what you need from all the experiences you’ve had since then and become who you’re meant to be. You know what I believe Orli, I believe that everything you’ve done in your life, good or bad, holds a lesson; it’s up to you to decide what is valuable enough to keep and what you can discard. Your experiences make you who you are, they mould and shape you, they give you depth and texture. Don’t discount them. And I think that who ever you let into your life should accept all that you are, and all that you’ve learned, as well as all that you will become.” He lifted his eyes to meet the younger man’s. “You’re not static Orli, if you’re lucky, you will be a continuous work in progress, learning and growing, making new mistakes and learning from them. Who ever you choose to share your life with should accept and encourage that or they don’t deserve you.” Viggo lifted the glass to his lips and wished he could offer the young man more than just his words.
Orlando slid farther up on the island until he was lying down lengthwise, with his feet dangling off the end, his chin resting on his folded hands. “After everything I’ve done, Vig, how can you be so kind to me? Why would you care?” He asked out of curiosity, without bitterness or anger.
“Why wouldn’t I care Orli; because I’ve only known you three days? Maybe I care because you don’t seem to know how amazing you are. In three days I learned that you radiate warmth and caring; that you’re passionate about world issues; that you’re smart and you’re funny; and that you’re adorably clumsy when you’re nervous or stressed. That’s just some of what I learned and why I care.”
Orlando shook his head. “You forgot selfish, a screw-up, untrustworthy, and if I’m not mistaken, you think I’m too dependant on my pain pills. I’m as far from perfection as you can get. ”
“Orlando look at me.” The younger man shook his head slowly. “Please Orlando; I want you to look at me.” With great trepidation he turned his head and looked at Viggo. “Orli, no one is perfect, that’s an unrealistic expectation that’s propagated by insipid fairy tales we tell children, then they grow up and expect that when they find love, they get the happily ever after; or when things get tough, a white knight will save them. There is no happily ever after, there is no knight in shining armour. Every friendship, every relationship, even the one you have with yourself, is hard work – rewarding, but work. The moment you forget to work at it you start losing what you have, you diminish the special nature of that bond.” The two men stared at each other for a long time.
Orlando knew what he wanted to say but was afraid to say it, afraid of what it meant. Finally he swallowed hard and whispered, “You’re the first person in a long time that thought I was capable, that I wasn’t a screw up, it scares me Vig. I’m scared to let you down, I’m scared I’ll disappoint you and you’ll realize I can’t do this, that you were wrong and am just who you see now. I’m scared you’ll... that I’ll… that we won’t be friends anymore.” He finished his voice fraught with anxiety. He couldn’t look at Viggo anymore and dropped his forehead back onto his hands.
“God Orli, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what will happen in the future. All I can tell you is that, I will be here for you in what ever way I can without compromising myself. I have my own issues I’m working through and I know how hard it is. You’ll have to trust in that.” Viggo poured the remaining wine in both of their glasses and hopped back up on the counter.
“I think you think I’m stronger than I am. I don’t even know where to start.” Orlando toyed with his newly filled wine glass almost spilling it.
“I don’t know, go back to the beginning, go back in time to who ever hurt you so bad that you stopped believing in you. Figure out the lesson and embrace it and let go of everything else. Start with regaining your sense of self and set boundaries you’re comfortable with. Try to stop letting others dictate who you are Orli. You can do that without giving away your privacy. The Studios, Mike, Kate, no one has the right to tell you what’s right for you. I think you are stronger than you know.” Orlando couldn’t remember anyone ever believing in him the way this man had, this man he’d just met. He was having difficulty absorbing it all, believing in Viggo, and trusting his words. “But…”
Viggo held up his hand and stopped him. “No buts Orli. This is your life; these are your choices. I am just beginning to trust myself to do what’s best for me, just as you have to start trusting in yourself that you will.” Viggo tilted his head and smiled at the sprawling young man. “For what it’s worth, I believe in you and your strength. Let’s face it, I’m sure there will be times I’m disappointed in you -- hell I’m sure I’ll disappoint you from time to time -- that happens in friendship. You have to believe that disappointment does not equal abandonment. As long as you’re not harming yourself or anyone else I will support you, in that you can trust.” Overwhelmed by what Viggo was offering and still more than a little skeptical he took a deep breath and asked, “What about you Viggo, what do you get from this. Surely you can’t be that altruistic, to take on a fucked up little shit like me.”
Viggo stared into his wine glass trying to decide how to answer. “Maybe I need to able to trust again.” Viggo said quietly.
“Well I really cocked that up this morning, didn’t I?” Orlando says bitterly.
“Orli, you didn’t ‘cock’ anything up. It’s *me* I need to trust again not someone else – I haven’t had any trouble with that.” Viggo grimaces at the memories of his trust in James. “I need to trust my instincts about people; I need to trust that when I’m wrong I’ll be able to see that too; and I need to trust that I won’t lose myself in someone else at the expense of my own well being. Does that make sense?” It more than made sense, Orlando knew exactly why Viggo felt he had to trust himself again. He only wished he could be that confident in himself; confident enough to shut out *his* words and stop them from echoing in his head. //You’re so fucking weak Orlando, aren’t you? I can’t trust you to do anything right can I. I can only imagine everything you’d fuck up on your own. //
Viggo saw the uncertainty in Orlando’s eyes and he slid off the counter and stood resting his hand on the young man’s shoulder and smiled encouragingly. “I trust you Orlando, will you trust me? Be friends? Can we do that?” Viggo smiled and reached up to brush errant curl behind the Brits ear. Orlando turned, smiled faintly and propped his head on his hand, “It’s hard, you know?”
“That I do know.” Then Viggo raised his nearly empty glass of wine, “To friendship.”
“Friendship.” Orli answer softly.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
For the third straight day the sun shone brightly over the village of Whistler, the gentle wind sending plumes of snow off the top of the mountains in shimmery white wisps across the early morning sky. Viggo grinned as he woke Orlando early with a hot mug of tea and a warm muffin. “Come on sleepyhead, it’s your first day of freedom, don’t want to waste a moment of it.” Orlando let Viggo’s low rumble wash over him, caressing him awake as effectively as a lovers touch, with similar results. Orlando groaned as all the blood rushed to his groin and he was powerless to touch himself with Viggo just steps away.
Mistaking the groan for reluctance, Viggo continued teasingly, “Not one for early rising Orlando? I could always pull your duvet off and let the cold air kiss you awake.” The word ‘kiss’ rang in Orlando’s ears and along with the thought of Viggo yanking off his blanket and exposing how interested he actually was in ‘early rising’, spurred him on to gather the duvet around him and swing his legs out of bed and crack one eye open. “I’m up.” He grimaced, and then smiled at the sight of Viggo bearing tea and a muffin. “Mmmm. Thanks, Vig.” Reaching for the offerings, careful to keep the duvet bunched around his very happy penis. “You’re spoiling me you know.” He sipped the tea before placing it on the bedside table next to his pills, and wondered if they would escape Viggo’s notice.
“Yeah, well I didn’t want you to have an excuse for doggin’ it on the slopes today so I thought I better give you a little incentive to start your day right.” Viggo grinned at the tousled hair and sleep creased face; he looked so young and wholesome like that.
“I’ll out pace you any day old man. You’ll need more than a day old muffin to keep up with me.” He grinned cheekily knowing his boast were empty, that Viggo would more than likely be waiting for him not the other way round.
“You know,” Viggo smiled slyly, “there is one sure way to find out who is king of the mountain… You up for a challenge?”
“Fuck, Vig, I’m barely awake, I feel like your taking advantage of me.” Orlando batted his eyelashes at the innuendo.
“Trust me Orli, you’d know it if I were taking advantage of you. Seriously, I meant to bring it up last night when Dom and Elijah were here but I forgot.”
“Getting old does that to you.”
“Yeah we’ll see who’s old once we’re on the hill.”
“Promises, promises. So what’s the challenge?” Taking a nibble of muffin.
“Right, the challenge. There’s a fundraiser tomorrow for the Canadian Disabled Alpine Ski Team – which I’m involved in. Wanna race with me?”
“A race? I’ve never really raced before….” Orlando blinked his one opened eye nervously.
“Sounds like you’re chickening out to me…” Viggo teased.
“No, No not chickening out. Tell me more, yeah.”
“It’s really a good time, I do it every year. What happens is teams of two get paired with a disabled skier on a slalom course set up for three racers at a time. The three – so you, me and a disabled skier -- then work as a team and as individuals to win prizes. You’ll get two timed practice runs and then you have to guess how long it will take you on your official run. The team that gets closest to their combined guessed time without going over wins a prize as does the individual who does the same. Then there is a big BBQ lunch and a gala dinner and auction the following evening.” Viggo enthused.
“Wow. I don’t know, I mean I could make a complete arse of myself, you know.” He looked up at Viggo skeptically, still only having one eye fully open in the morning light.
“It’s for charity Orli, it’s for fun. The people we’ll be skiing and riding with have way bigger issues than whether Orlando Bloom falls on his ass. It’ll be fun and I’m sure I can buy an extra entry for Dom and Elijah if you’re worried about leaving them out.”
“No you’re right; I’m just being a silly git. Of course I’ll do it. Sound fantastic; sign me up. Now if you’ll get out of here I’ll get my gear on so when the hobbits get here I won’t be in my skivvies – not that those two would care, mind you.”
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Orlando giggled to himself as he remembered the tangle of Dom and Elijah in the middle of a massive mogul field, like a twisted game a twister with bumps instead of dots. Whenever one would free himself and managed to stand the other would lose balance creating a downhill domino effect. In the end, Orlando had to hang on to Viggo to keep himself upright through his laughter.
It had truly been a perfect day, the mountains were quiet for mid week and foursome had spent the day trying to out do each other. Orli, Dom and Elijah on snowboards teasing Viggo the ‘two-planker’; hitting the slopes hard and fast, and enjoying each others company. Viggo was an amazing skier, literally becoming one with the mountain, taking each challenge with grace and skill. Orlando was surprised at Viggo’s patience with the three of them and their shenanigans and the odd, well timed snowball. He took them up both mountains, to all the out of the way runs that were mostly known to locals, keeping the trio constantly astounded at the vastness and variation of the terrain. Orlando was coming to understand the lure of living in a place like this, the feeling of freedom as you carved your way down the slopes; the rush you got from the sheer speed, just hovering on the edge of control; and the exhilaration of catching air off a jump and freefalling before the jolt of landing and continuing your descent. Coupled with the fact that at days end they skied down to a small trail that opened directly to Viggo’s back deck, he could now understand the appeal and almost envied Viggo and his little piece of paradise.
Orlando dozed peacefully on his bed, freshly showered, hair damp and quietly content, even his back was less sore than he expected – not good enough to skip a pill, but better, maybe he’d leave the pills at home when they went up again tomorrow. Maybe. The smell of something being baked in the oven wafted upstairs only added to his state of relaxation and he coasted on the memories of the day and looked forward to the evening ahead.
A short time later Orli woke to hear Viggo starting his own shower and spurred him on to get ready for their evening on the town. Opting not to put on his boxers he slid into a snug pair of black jeans, and dug through a bag until he found a suitable white tee with the word FREEDOM… in black across the chest and in small black letters across the back …TO CHOOSE. He grabbed his charms and slung them around his neck, fondling them each in turn as if to re-imprint each memory, and headed downstairs to wait for Viggo.
Making his way to the games room he hunted for the remote and once found, he channel surfed, stopping abruptly as Kate filled the screen. It was obviously an entertainment magazine show and she was at some sort of charity event, no doubt set up by her publicist. She smile sadly and waved to the crowd before being pulled aside by the interviewer. Orlando had to give her credit for putting on a good show of being reluctant to talk but he could tell by the way her eyes shone like a bitch in heat, that this was what she had hoped for. Kate was nothing if not a media whore and usually and inept one at that. Orlando grinned and settle back to watch in amusement.
Viggo hurried downstairs a few minutes later after hearing a loud thud and a shout of ‘fucking cunt’. Entering the room he found that Orlando was righting the over-turned coffee table and was anything but amused. “Orli? You all right?” He asked cautiously.
“Sorry about the table, yeah Vig? I just… fucking, fuck fuck! She just, I can’t believe she just…" Orlando couldn’t get the words out, he could barely believe what he’d just seen and heard, let alone have to explain it. “Take a breath Orli. Tell me what happened.” Viggo tried to soothe the agitated young man, only to have Orli pull away from his touch. Viggo immediately backed off, crossed the room to turn off the television manually, and then settled on the couch and waited for Orlando to compose himself.
Hearing the television turn off, Orlando looked around for the remote which was still in a death grip in his hand. He stared at it for a minute as if he was trying to figure out why he had it and took notice of how his hand shook. With great care Orlando placed it on the now righted coffee table and smiled thinly. “I just need a minute, yeah? Then we can head out. Okay? Sorry about the table, I was just, I got a little upset. I’m fine now. No really, I am.” Turning and nearly taking out a side table he bounced off the door frame before stumbling into the kitchen. Viggo stared open mouthed wondering what the hell had just happened. Hearing the cupboard open and the water being turn on, he could only imagine that whatever transpired was enough to ‘require’ more medication. He also knew that he wouldn’t let it rest; he intended to find out what had just taken place.
Walking into the kitchen he found Orlando depositing his glass into the sink, placing his hand firmly on his shoulder he gently turned the young man around. “What’s going on Orlando, and don’t give me this bullshit that you’re fine. You are anything but fine. So cut to the chase who or what has you so worked up?”
Orlando shrugged Viggo’s hand from his shoulder his eyes sparked with anger. “Back off, okay mate. I’m going to handle this. Me. Alone. My mess, I’m cleaning it up.”
Clearly not ready to back down, Viggo studied him closely until Orlando had to look away. “Fuck Orlando, since when does listening take away from ones ability to work things out on their own. Quit being a martyr, it’s not becoming. I’m here to listen, because that’s what friends do.”
Orlando flinched at the word martyr and stared down at his feet. “Fuck, Vig. I know… I know you’re right. I just... I’m so fucking pissed. I just, I can’t. Fuck!” Orlando was back to gulping breaths and running his hands through his already ruffled curls. Viggo opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water, opened it and handed it silently to Orlando. “Thanks.” He answered meekly. “It’s Kate. She… Fuck I’m so angry, Vig. I feel like my whole body is vibrating. I hate this feeling.” He gulped down a third of the water, suddenly parched. “She was just on one of those ‘Entertainment’ shows at a charity do, obviously something her publicist set up, because I assure you that she has no idea what pediatric aids is, in fact she’s probably at home wondering what infants are doing having sex anyway. Nevertheless, they must have prepped the fuck out of her for the last three days because usually she is a media nightmare, yeah? So she gets interviewed and says how difficult the last few days have been but she wouldn’t have let the kids down and all this shite. Trust me I know first hand that she has little, if any, maternal instincts – she can’t stand kids. She says she can’t talk about what happened or if we’re getting back together, instead she says she hopes I get the help I need since I’ve had such a difficult time since New Zealand! I want to kill her Vig. *Me* a pacifist wants to kill someone. She knows that they’ll start digging into New Zealand and ask questions and I’m fucked. And the joke of it is she doesn’t even know what actually happened only that *something* happened. Anything she does know comes from snippets she’s overheard when I talk with the guys or a reference I might have made and the odd nightmare I may have had. Other than that she knows fuck all, purely shrewd speculation on her part. She went after the one thing that she knew would hurt me the most, Vig. What kind of person does that?” Orlando was slumped against the counter, rubbing his brow with one hand the other was clenched in a fist trembling against his thigh.
“I don’t know Orli; I don’t know what drives people to hurt other people.” Viggo moved closer and cautiously drew the young man into a hug. “What ever happened in New Zealand is your story to tell, in your own time, or never; it’s not anyone else’s.” Viggo ran his fingers through the soft curls and inhaled the uniquely Orlando scent, like a meadow after a summer rain. For a moment he almost forgot he was there to give comfort. Leaning back he saw Orlando looking at him oddly; he couldn’t have known only the day before Brian had said the same thing about Viggo’s own story. For the first time in a long time he almost felt like sharing what happened. Almost. He fumbled for words, feeling awkward and was relieved when Viggo spoke first. “Don’t. Orli, just don’t. You don’t owe me anything. Nothing, alright. Friends... Okay? Friends.” Viggo rested his forehead on Orlando’s and the two men stood there and sensed their tentative bonds of trust strengthen. The moment was broken with the ring of Orlando’s phone. Fortunately, it was just Mike reassuring him that he would take care of everything. Still unsure Orlando hung up the phone and smiled wanly, “Can we go out now and have some fun?”
Viggo grinned and grabbed his jacket, “Absolutely.”
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Brian lost himself to the beat of the music and the rhythm of his partner. The dance floor was only half full; quiet for a Monday, just right for the group to go out anonymously and let loose a bit. Brian’s eye grazed appreciatively over his partner’s body, fuck was he gorgeous; no wonder Viggo was completely taken by him, even if he wouldn't admit it. Orlando was lost in the music, like a flame he flickered and danced giving off a glow of intensity as he licked his away across the dance floor, graceful in spite of all he’d had to drink that evening. His hair damp against the nape of his neck from his exertion, pink tongue glinted across his lips in concentration, flash of satin skin as his shirt’s hem danced along the waistband of his jeans – he oozed sexuality and sin, and remarkably, was oblivious to the reactions he caused in the wake of his gyrations. Over Orlando’s shoulder, Brian caught Viggo’s concerned stare and wasn’t sure if the look stemmed from some sort of misplaced jealousy or more likely because of the quantity of alcohol Orlando had already consumed. Placing a hand on Orlando’s shoulder he indicated that he was too hot and slid off the through the sparse crowd over to Viggo.
“What’s up? You look like you don’t know whether to kill him or cuddle him.” Brian slid up to the bar and settled in next to Viggo.
“Fuck off, I do not. I’m concerned that’s all.” Viggo sputtered.
“You can’t save him from himself Vig.” He said softly, reaching for his beer.
“That I do know. That doesn’t stop me from being concerned; though I do believe it precludes me from killing and or cuddling him.” Viggo grinned letting Brian know that he truly was fine with everything.
“Think you’ve been OD’ing on Law & Order or something old man. Seriously, he’s probably burning off a lot of the booze he’s shot-gunned out there.” Brian gestured to the dance floor where Orlando was now in a three way dance with Dom and Elijah no less sinful and looking even sexier if that were possible. “So what’s your secret?” Brian asked with a glint in his eye as they both followed the fluid movements of Orlando.
“Secret?” Viggo asked confused.
“Yeah the secret of how the hell you’ve resisted him while he’s been sleeping under the same roof. There’s obviously some connection between the two of you. So what are you doing… locking him in his room every night or what?”
“Leave it YB.” Viggo fiddled with his beer. “He’s got issues; I’ve got issues. It just wouldn’t be right and truthfully, I don’t know if it would ever be right.” Brian looked back to Viggo and then back to the young man dancing with abandon. “Shame.” He said quietly.
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know YB.” The two men continued to watch the trio until the music slowed to dull throb bringing them off the dance floor to refuel. Orlando ordered another double-double. Viggo raised his eyebrow and asked if perhaps Orlando had already had enough. Before Orlando could respond, Elijah was quick to jump to his defense. “He’s had a rough night Viggo, he earned the right to blow off some steam don’t you think?” Orlando didn’t bother to participate in the conversation and wandered off to the washroom. “Besides, Dom and I usually dump half of it out when he’s not looking and he never seems to notice.” Elijah smirked proudly.
Viggo shook his head slowly. “He doesn’t need you to make excuses or dilute drinks for him Elijah. What he needs to do is know when he’s had enough and when to stop; you’re not giving him that opportunity.” Viggo knew he sounded preachy, but at this point in the evening it wouldn’t matter what he said, the context would be lost completely. Just then Orlando stumbled back and downed a third of his glass. “Gonna dance with me Vig?” He slurred draping himself over the older man’s shoulders.
“Nah, Orli, I think I’m going to head home. We’ve got a big day tomorrow, need to rest my bones. Stay if you like; I’m sure Brian will get you home.” Viggo fought to keep his tone neutral.
“Wanna go with you Viggo.” His eyes were heavy and his speech slow and movements slower.
Reminding Dom and Elijah what time they were leaving in the morning to participate in the Charity race, Viggo said his goodbye’s as Orli tried remain nonchalantly upright. Viggo wound his way through the club letting Orlando use his arm for support as he weaved dangerously on his feet.
Once in the car, Orli started singing with the radio; a completely endearing, out of tune rendition of CCR’s Have You Ever Seen the Rain. Viggo smiled, even drunk there was something about Orlando that just made him shine and brighten everything around him. Viggo considered curling up like cat in a puddle of Orli’s sunlight and purring contentedly. This was not good, not good at all, Viggo thought.
At the house Orli had sobered up a little, enough at least that he wasn’t dead weight as Viggo guided him upstairs. The entire time Orlando babbled and cooed, thanking Vig for taking such good care of him and draping himself on the older man at every opportunity. Finally Viggo realized that climbing the stairs side-by-side was giving Orlando more of a chance to hinder the process than help. He gently shoved Orlando ahead and continued to follow a few steps behind, when Orli turned and sat down abruptly on the stairs. From Viggo’s step a few below he was face to face with a drunk and grinning Orlando. The young man reached and grabbed Viggo’s hands pulling him firmly toward him causing Viggo to drop to his knees in between Orlando’s legs and struggling to keep his balance. With a speed that belied his drunken state, Orlando dropped the artists’ hands, gently cupped his face and with determination pulled Viggo forward and softly kissed him. Viggo’s surprise gave Orlando the extra time he needed to tease Viggo’s lips gently with his tongue, gaining entrance and with cautious finesse, reverently caress his warm wet cavern, stroking his tongue and tasting everything he had to offer.
Orlando slid his hand around to the back of Viggo’s head and held him close, letting his fingers to curl into the soft, thick hair at the nape of his neck. Both men moaned into each others mouths allowing the kiss to gain momentum and intensity. Viggo braced his hands on the stair either side of Orlando’s waist and with great reluctance pulled away.
“Stop Orlando, you’re drunk.” Viggo tried to catch his breath and get his heart rate under control, desperately trying to not to think about amazingly hot a drunk Orli could kiss.
“You want me.” Orlando said simply, letting his hand slide the length of Viggo’s neck, along his broad shoulder and down his arm; not allowing his gaze to waiver from Viggo. Viggo inhaled sharply at Orlando’s blunt statement, trying to figure out whether denial or admission would be the best tack to take. Pushing himself up to his knees he fought the pull of Orlando’s sexiness – his unruly curls, flushed cheeks and smoldering eyes that sparked as Viggo unconsciously licked his bottom lip – and decided that he would be as blunt and honest in return. “I do… and you’re still drunk. Even if you weren’t, we both know that this can’t happen, not now, not like this and certainly not because your ex *girlfriend* pissed you off.” Viggo’s voice was pitched low and firm. “I think you should go to bed.”
The two men stared at each other for a long minute, Orlando looked like he was either about to argue his case or just grab Viggo and pull him into another passionate kiss, before he finally sagged noticeably and meekly nodded as he pushed himself up two stairs without ever taking his eyes off Viggo. As Orlando moved, Viggo suffered several losses; the heat that had been radiating off Orlando, the passion that faded from Orlando’s eyes and the piece of his own heart that left with Orlando. At the top of the stairs, silhouetted in the moonlight, Orlando turned and whispered, “It was never about Kate, Vig… never that,” Before turning into the loft, leaving only the soft click of the bathroom door in his wake.
TBC
Chapter: 7/?
Author: Rocketbalm
Pairing: OB/VM
Rating: R for language
Summary: A conversation; Kate; and a kiss – there is no het real or implied…
Content/warnings: AU
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 7
Brian and Orlando returned with dinner, wine and beer in paper sacks over-flowing with all sorts of things to tempt the palette. Orlando had really enjoyed his time with Brian, and quickly realized why Viggo had been friends with him for so long. Not only was he engaging and completely irreverent, he was also unimposing and easy to talk to, which helped to calm Orlando before they returned home. Brian burst through the door calling for Viggo to get off his ‘artistic ass’ and come help them, in contrast to Orlando who entered more sedately with a little trepidation. He was uncomfortable and unsure how to act around the older man after their emotional morning and then hearing Brian’s confirmation that Viggo was indeed interested in men.
Sensing Orlando’s awkwardness Viggo immediately tried to put him at ease when he walked into the kitchen carrying the beer and wine. Gently he grabbed Orlando’s arm and said softly, "I’m glad you’re back.” As if he wasn’t exactly sure that Orlando would come back and was pleased he had. Grateful for the gesture, Orlando blushed and ducked his head and murmured, “Me too.”
Dinner had been a casual affair with everyone piling around the huge wooden table, cartons of food being passed back and forth and enough wine and beer to mellow everyone out. Orlando was enjoying have the hobbits underfoot, but felt he was always a few steps behind in the conversation, almost an outsider looking in, not really comfortable in his own skin. As the evening wore on the two Hobbits had curled up together on the couch, exhausted from all the activities of the Altitude festival. Between Dom, Elijah and Brian they shared stories from the events they had participated in -- everything from Uniform night where the dress code was latex and leather to The Amazing Hunt, a scavenger hunt on the slopes -- and now were content to relax, reminisce and regroup. Viggo smiled indulgently as the younger men laughed about the drunken debauchery of the last week while he studied Orli who couldn’t seem to get comfortable and was remarkably quiet.
The evening was only marred by two things. The first was Orlando’s phone kept ringing and the caller ID showed it was Kate. The last thing Orlando wanted to do was talk to her, not that he hated her or anything like that, he just didn’t want to deal with her right now. The second had come after dinner when Orli excused himself to go the bathroom. At first he thought he was just imagined that Viggo somehow knew he was going to take his pills and could feel his eyes follow him, but on his return, Viggo’s comment left no doubt as to what Viggo believed. He had smiled thinly at Orlando and told him that if his back was sore he was welcome to use the hot tub off of the solarium for relief. Orlando froze not knowing really what to say, when Dom came to his rescue and diverted the conversation, explaining that Orlando had an aversion to hot tubs since he had walked in and found them fooling around in one in New Zealand. Ever since, hot tubbing had become known as bobbing for hobbits to ensure the image remained burned in Orli’s memory. While everyone laughed at the story, Orlando could feel Viggo’s eyes follow him to the fridge for another beer, adding to his uneasiness.
The rest of the evening was filled with a dose of raucous hilarity followed by a dash of gentle ribbing. Plans were made to spend the next day on the mountain and the evening out on the town leading to the decision for everyone to turn in relatively early. When Brian and the Hobbits had said their good nights, the two men worked quietly side by side, clearing the dishes; wrapping leftovers and throwing out cartons. Viggo wanted nothing more than to engage Orlando in conversation, to give him reassurance but not wanting to intrude on his thoughts. Finally when the last plate had been put in the dishwasher, Viggo reached for the remaining two thirds, bottle of wine and asked Orlando if he’d share it with him so it wouldn’t go to waste. Nodding in agreement, Orli hopped up and sat on the counter of the island, legs swinging with nervous energy. Viggo poured the last of the wine in two clean glasses and set the bottle aside, while he leaned on the counter opposite Orlando and cocked his head. “You were pretty quiet tonight.” He observed.
“Yeah, I guess. It’s been a long day, you know?” Orlando said taking a sip of wine. “I really enjoyed my time with Brian, though. And having Dom and Lijah here was great, yeah? It’s been a long time since we just hung out."
“Yeah, I sensed that. You seemed, I don’t know, like you were trying to figure out where you fit again. But then like you said, it’s been pretty stressful for you lately.” The artist rested his arm on the counter top and toyed with his glass.
“I… Fuck, how do you do that? It’s like you can see right inside me and put into words what I’m feeling before I can even figure it out. It’s creepy, Vig. Fucking scary is what it is.” Orlando took a big gulp of wine before looking across at Viggo, who shrugged depreciatingly. “Guess I spend a lot of time observing people, doesn’t mean I’m always right. I’ve been wrong more times than I care to remember actually.”
Orlando thought of all the things Brian had told that afternoon, about the sketch he found and he saw the glimmer of pain that hovered beneath the surface as the artist looked up at him. In that moment Orlando shared Viggo’s pain and he found words were tumbling from him, rushing headlong to fill any gap that there was between them.
“I haven’t felt like I belong anywhere in long time. It’s like I can’t remember who Orli really is, like I’ve lost him or pieces of him. I’m always trying to figure out whom to be around different people, you know. The public want ‘Orlando Bloom’, movie star and all around nice guy; the studios just want someone to bring in audiences and not be offensive to anyone; Mike wants me to look and act a certain way; Kate, fuck I don’t know what Kate wanted, I could never figure her out; and my friends, they treat me like I’m going to break or fuck up at every turn, so they hover around waiting to pick up the pieces or clean up the mess. I just don’t know who I am anymore.” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration and pushed his fingertips into his brow massaging it gently.
“It’s weird you know, I sat here tonight and realized I didn’t know who to be with my friends anymore. I can’t remember which story goes with which Orli, like my life is made up of all these little lies that I can’t keep straight anymore. I fucking hate this Vig. I’m so tired all the time, my body just aches, I just feel so weighted down. It’s pathetic you know,” he said rolling his eyes. “I have money, a job I usually love, adoring fans, a family that cares, amazing friends and yet I feel so empty so lost. Fuck, I’m hopeless.” He said bitterly.
“I don’t know… you seem far from hopeless to me. The way I see it, while the situation -- in your words -- may be pathetic, *you* are not.” Viggo hopped up onto the counter across from Orlando, drew one knee up to his chest and rested his barefoot on the edge of the counter, settling in for a long conversation. “I would think it would be difficult to live your life trying to be so many things to so many people; it would be easy to forget who you are for your self. You’re still in there Orli, who you are; who you’re meant to be – that’s not lost and I don’t think you are either. Maybe you just need to remember where to look.” Viggo suggested.
Orlando stared across the narrow walkway between them and suddenly aware how much Viggo’s words mattered to him, really mattered. Somehow in three days they had become, well, Orlando didn’t know what they’d become, but what ever it was, it meant that more than anything, Orlando wanted to believe in Viggo and wanted Viggo to believe in him.
“I can never go back to being that person Vig, even if I remembered what it was like to be plain old Orli, I’m not that person anymore and I don’t know where to start looking for who I am now.” Orlando shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the weariness of the day press down on him.
“No, you’re right, you can’t go back Orli. But I think it’s your foundation, a place to start.” Viggo set his glass down and put his chin on his knee and mused. “Maybe if you can find out who you were, you can take what you need from all the experiences you’ve had since then and become who you’re meant to be. You know what I believe Orli, I believe that everything you’ve done in your life, good or bad, holds a lesson; it’s up to you to decide what is valuable enough to keep and what you can discard. Your experiences make you who you are, they mould and shape you, they give you depth and texture. Don’t discount them. And I think that who ever you let into your life should accept all that you are, and all that you’ve learned, as well as all that you will become.” He lifted his eyes to meet the younger man’s. “You’re not static Orli, if you’re lucky, you will be a continuous work in progress, learning and growing, making new mistakes and learning from them. Who ever you choose to share your life with should accept and encourage that or they don’t deserve you.” Viggo lifted the glass to his lips and wished he could offer the young man more than just his words.
Orlando slid farther up on the island until he was lying down lengthwise, with his feet dangling off the end, his chin resting on his folded hands. “After everything I’ve done, Vig, how can you be so kind to me? Why would you care?” He asked out of curiosity, without bitterness or anger.
“Why wouldn’t I care Orli; because I’ve only known you three days? Maybe I care because you don’t seem to know how amazing you are. In three days I learned that you radiate warmth and caring; that you’re passionate about world issues; that you’re smart and you’re funny; and that you’re adorably clumsy when you’re nervous or stressed. That’s just some of what I learned and why I care.”
Orlando shook his head. “You forgot selfish, a screw-up, untrustworthy, and if I’m not mistaken, you think I’m too dependant on my pain pills. I’m as far from perfection as you can get. ”
“Orlando look at me.” The younger man shook his head slowly. “Please Orlando; I want you to look at me.” With great trepidation he turned his head and looked at Viggo. “Orli, no one is perfect, that’s an unrealistic expectation that’s propagated by insipid fairy tales we tell children, then they grow up and expect that when they find love, they get the happily ever after; or when things get tough, a white knight will save them. There is no happily ever after, there is no knight in shining armour. Every friendship, every relationship, even the one you have with yourself, is hard work – rewarding, but work. The moment you forget to work at it you start losing what you have, you diminish the special nature of that bond.” The two men stared at each other for a long time.
Orlando knew what he wanted to say but was afraid to say it, afraid of what it meant. Finally he swallowed hard and whispered, “You’re the first person in a long time that thought I was capable, that I wasn’t a screw up, it scares me Vig. I’m scared to let you down, I’m scared I’ll disappoint you and you’ll realize I can’t do this, that you were wrong and am just who you see now. I’m scared you’ll... that I’ll… that we won’t be friends anymore.” He finished his voice fraught with anxiety. He couldn’t look at Viggo anymore and dropped his forehead back onto his hands.
“God Orli, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what will happen in the future. All I can tell you is that, I will be here for you in what ever way I can without compromising myself. I have my own issues I’m working through and I know how hard it is. You’ll have to trust in that.” Viggo poured the remaining wine in both of their glasses and hopped back up on the counter.
“I think you think I’m stronger than I am. I don’t even know where to start.” Orlando toyed with his newly filled wine glass almost spilling it.
“I don’t know, go back to the beginning, go back in time to who ever hurt you so bad that you stopped believing in you. Figure out the lesson and embrace it and let go of everything else. Start with regaining your sense of self and set boundaries you’re comfortable with. Try to stop letting others dictate who you are Orli. You can do that without giving away your privacy. The Studios, Mike, Kate, no one has the right to tell you what’s right for you. I think you are stronger than you know.” Orlando couldn’t remember anyone ever believing in him the way this man had, this man he’d just met. He was having difficulty absorbing it all, believing in Viggo, and trusting his words. “But…”
Viggo held up his hand and stopped him. “No buts Orli. This is your life; these are your choices. I am just beginning to trust myself to do what’s best for me, just as you have to start trusting in yourself that you will.” Viggo tilted his head and smiled at the sprawling young man. “For what it’s worth, I believe in you and your strength. Let’s face it, I’m sure there will be times I’m disappointed in you -- hell I’m sure I’ll disappoint you from time to time -- that happens in friendship. You have to believe that disappointment does not equal abandonment. As long as you’re not harming yourself or anyone else I will support you, in that you can trust.” Overwhelmed by what Viggo was offering and still more than a little skeptical he took a deep breath and asked, “What about you Viggo, what do you get from this. Surely you can’t be that altruistic, to take on a fucked up little shit like me.”
Viggo stared into his wine glass trying to decide how to answer. “Maybe I need to able to trust again.” Viggo said quietly.
“Well I really cocked that up this morning, didn’t I?” Orlando says bitterly.
“Orli, you didn’t ‘cock’ anything up. It’s *me* I need to trust again not someone else – I haven’t had any trouble with that.” Viggo grimaces at the memories of his trust in James. “I need to trust my instincts about people; I need to trust that when I’m wrong I’ll be able to see that too; and I need to trust that I won’t lose myself in someone else at the expense of my own well being. Does that make sense?” It more than made sense, Orlando knew exactly why Viggo felt he had to trust himself again. He only wished he could be that confident in himself; confident enough to shut out *his* words and stop them from echoing in his head. //You’re so fucking weak Orlando, aren’t you? I can’t trust you to do anything right can I. I can only imagine everything you’d fuck up on your own. //
Viggo saw the uncertainty in Orlando’s eyes and he slid off the counter and stood resting his hand on the young man’s shoulder and smiled encouragingly. “I trust you Orlando, will you trust me? Be friends? Can we do that?” Viggo smiled and reached up to brush errant curl behind the Brits ear. Orlando turned, smiled faintly and propped his head on his hand, “It’s hard, you know?”
“That I do know.” Then Viggo raised his nearly empty glass of wine, “To friendship.”
“Friendship.” Orli answer softly.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
For the third straight day the sun shone brightly over the village of Whistler, the gentle wind sending plumes of snow off the top of the mountains in shimmery white wisps across the early morning sky. Viggo grinned as he woke Orlando early with a hot mug of tea and a warm muffin. “Come on sleepyhead, it’s your first day of freedom, don’t want to waste a moment of it.” Orlando let Viggo’s low rumble wash over him, caressing him awake as effectively as a lovers touch, with similar results. Orlando groaned as all the blood rushed to his groin and he was powerless to touch himself with Viggo just steps away.
Mistaking the groan for reluctance, Viggo continued teasingly, “Not one for early rising Orlando? I could always pull your duvet off and let the cold air kiss you awake.” The word ‘kiss’ rang in Orlando’s ears and along with the thought of Viggo yanking off his blanket and exposing how interested he actually was in ‘early rising’, spurred him on to gather the duvet around him and swing his legs out of bed and crack one eye open. “I’m up.” He grimaced, and then smiled at the sight of Viggo bearing tea and a muffin. “Mmmm. Thanks, Vig.” Reaching for the offerings, careful to keep the duvet bunched around his very happy penis. “You’re spoiling me you know.” He sipped the tea before placing it on the bedside table next to his pills, and wondered if they would escape Viggo’s notice.
“Yeah, well I didn’t want you to have an excuse for doggin’ it on the slopes today so I thought I better give you a little incentive to start your day right.” Viggo grinned at the tousled hair and sleep creased face; he looked so young and wholesome like that.
“I’ll out pace you any day old man. You’ll need more than a day old muffin to keep up with me.” He grinned cheekily knowing his boast were empty, that Viggo would more than likely be waiting for him not the other way round.
“You know,” Viggo smiled slyly, “there is one sure way to find out who is king of the mountain… You up for a challenge?”
“Fuck, Vig, I’m barely awake, I feel like your taking advantage of me.” Orlando batted his eyelashes at the innuendo.
“Trust me Orli, you’d know it if I were taking advantage of you. Seriously, I meant to bring it up last night when Dom and Elijah were here but I forgot.”
“Getting old does that to you.”
“Yeah we’ll see who’s old once we’re on the hill.”
“Promises, promises. So what’s the challenge?” Taking a nibble of muffin.
“Right, the challenge. There’s a fundraiser tomorrow for the Canadian Disabled Alpine Ski Team – which I’m involved in. Wanna race with me?”
“A race? I’ve never really raced before….” Orlando blinked his one opened eye nervously.
“Sounds like you’re chickening out to me…” Viggo teased.
“No, No not chickening out. Tell me more, yeah.”
“It’s really a good time, I do it every year. What happens is teams of two get paired with a disabled skier on a slalom course set up for three racers at a time. The three – so you, me and a disabled skier -- then work as a team and as individuals to win prizes. You’ll get two timed practice runs and then you have to guess how long it will take you on your official run. The team that gets closest to their combined guessed time without going over wins a prize as does the individual who does the same. Then there is a big BBQ lunch and a gala dinner and auction the following evening.” Viggo enthused.
“Wow. I don’t know, I mean I could make a complete arse of myself, you know.” He looked up at Viggo skeptically, still only having one eye fully open in the morning light.
“It’s for charity Orli, it’s for fun. The people we’ll be skiing and riding with have way bigger issues than whether Orlando Bloom falls on his ass. It’ll be fun and I’m sure I can buy an extra entry for Dom and Elijah if you’re worried about leaving them out.”
“No you’re right; I’m just being a silly git. Of course I’ll do it. Sound fantastic; sign me up. Now if you’ll get out of here I’ll get my gear on so when the hobbits get here I won’t be in my skivvies – not that those two would care, mind you.”
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Orlando giggled to himself as he remembered the tangle of Dom and Elijah in the middle of a massive mogul field, like a twisted game a twister with bumps instead of dots. Whenever one would free himself and managed to stand the other would lose balance creating a downhill domino effect. In the end, Orlando had to hang on to Viggo to keep himself upright through his laughter.
It had truly been a perfect day, the mountains were quiet for mid week and foursome had spent the day trying to out do each other. Orli, Dom and Elijah on snowboards teasing Viggo the ‘two-planker’; hitting the slopes hard and fast, and enjoying each others company. Viggo was an amazing skier, literally becoming one with the mountain, taking each challenge with grace and skill. Orlando was surprised at Viggo’s patience with the three of them and their shenanigans and the odd, well timed snowball. He took them up both mountains, to all the out of the way runs that were mostly known to locals, keeping the trio constantly astounded at the vastness and variation of the terrain. Orlando was coming to understand the lure of living in a place like this, the feeling of freedom as you carved your way down the slopes; the rush you got from the sheer speed, just hovering on the edge of control; and the exhilaration of catching air off a jump and freefalling before the jolt of landing and continuing your descent. Coupled with the fact that at days end they skied down to a small trail that opened directly to Viggo’s back deck, he could now understand the appeal and almost envied Viggo and his little piece of paradise.
Orlando dozed peacefully on his bed, freshly showered, hair damp and quietly content, even his back was less sore than he expected – not good enough to skip a pill, but better, maybe he’d leave the pills at home when they went up again tomorrow. Maybe. The smell of something being baked in the oven wafted upstairs only added to his state of relaxation and he coasted on the memories of the day and looked forward to the evening ahead.
A short time later Orli woke to hear Viggo starting his own shower and spurred him on to get ready for their evening on the town. Opting not to put on his boxers he slid into a snug pair of black jeans, and dug through a bag until he found a suitable white tee with the word FREEDOM… in black across the chest and in small black letters across the back …TO CHOOSE. He grabbed his charms and slung them around his neck, fondling them each in turn as if to re-imprint each memory, and headed downstairs to wait for Viggo.
Making his way to the games room he hunted for the remote and once found, he channel surfed, stopping abruptly as Kate filled the screen. It was obviously an entertainment magazine show and she was at some sort of charity event, no doubt set up by her publicist. She smile sadly and waved to the crowd before being pulled aside by the interviewer. Orlando had to give her credit for putting on a good show of being reluctant to talk but he could tell by the way her eyes shone like a bitch in heat, that this was what she had hoped for. Kate was nothing if not a media whore and usually and inept one at that. Orlando grinned and settle back to watch in amusement.
Viggo hurried downstairs a few minutes later after hearing a loud thud and a shout of ‘fucking cunt’. Entering the room he found that Orlando was righting the over-turned coffee table and was anything but amused. “Orli? You all right?” He asked cautiously.
“Sorry about the table, yeah Vig? I just… fucking, fuck fuck! She just, I can’t believe she just…" Orlando couldn’t get the words out, he could barely believe what he’d just seen and heard, let alone have to explain it. “Take a breath Orli. Tell me what happened.” Viggo tried to soothe the agitated young man, only to have Orli pull away from his touch. Viggo immediately backed off, crossed the room to turn off the television manually, and then settled on the couch and waited for Orlando to compose himself.
Hearing the television turn off, Orlando looked around for the remote which was still in a death grip in his hand. He stared at it for a minute as if he was trying to figure out why he had it and took notice of how his hand shook. With great care Orlando placed it on the now righted coffee table and smiled thinly. “I just need a minute, yeah? Then we can head out. Okay? Sorry about the table, I was just, I got a little upset. I’m fine now. No really, I am.” Turning and nearly taking out a side table he bounced off the door frame before stumbling into the kitchen. Viggo stared open mouthed wondering what the hell had just happened. Hearing the cupboard open and the water being turn on, he could only imagine that whatever transpired was enough to ‘require’ more medication. He also knew that he wouldn’t let it rest; he intended to find out what had just taken place.
Walking into the kitchen he found Orlando depositing his glass into the sink, placing his hand firmly on his shoulder he gently turned the young man around. “What’s going on Orlando, and don’t give me this bullshit that you’re fine. You are anything but fine. So cut to the chase who or what has you so worked up?”
Orlando shrugged Viggo’s hand from his shoulder his eyes sparked with anger. “Back off, okay mate. I’m going to handle this. Me. Alone. My mess, I’m cleaning it up.”
Clearly not ready to back down, Viggo studied him closely until Orlando had to look away. “Fuck Orlando, since when does listening take away from ones ability to work things out on their own. Quit being a martyr, it’s not becoming. I’m here to listen, because that’s what friends do.”
Orlando flinched at the word martyr and stared down at his feet. “Fuck, Vig. I know… I know you’re right. I just... I’m so fucking pissed. I just, I can’t. Fuck!” Orlando was back to gulping breaths and running his hands through his already ruffled curls. Viggo opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water, opened it and handed it silently to Orlando. “Thanks.” He answered meekly. “It’s Kate. She… Fuck I’m so angry, Vig. I feel like my whole body is vibrating. I hate this feeling.” He gulped down a third of the water, suddenly parched. “She was just on one of those ‘Entertainment’ shows at a charity do, obviously something her publicist set up, because I assure you that she has no idea what pediatric aids is, in fact she’s probably at home wondering what infants are doing having sex anyway. Nevertheless, they must have prepped the fuck out of her for the last three days because usually she is a media nightmare, yeah? So she gets interviewed and says how difficult the last few days have been but she wouldn’t have let the kids down and all this shite. Trust me I know first hand that she has little, if any, maternal instincts – she can’t stand kids. She says she can’t talk about what happened or if we’re getting back together, instead she says she hopes I get the help I need since I’ve had such a difficult time since New Zealand! I want to kill her Vig. *Me* a pacifist wants to kill someone. She knows that they’ll start digging into New Zealand and ask questions and I’m fucked. And the joke of it is she doesn’t even know what actually happened only that *something* happened. Anything she does know comes from snippets she’s overheard when I talk with the guys or a reference I might have made and the odd nightmare I may have had. Other than that she knows fuck all, purely shrewd speculation on her part. She went after the one thing that she knew would hurt me the most, Vig. What kind of person does that?” Orlando was slumped against the counter, rubbing his brow with one hand the other was clenched in a fist trembling against his thigh.
“I don’t know Orli; I don’t know what drives people to hurt other people.” Viggo moved closer and cautiously drew the young man into a hug. “What ever happened in New Zealand is your story to tell, in your own time, or never; it’s not anyone else’s.” Viggo ran his fingers through the soft curls and inhaled the uniquely Orlando scent, like a meadow after a summer rain. For a moment he almost forgot he was there to give comfort. Leaning back he saw Orlando looking at him oddly; he couldn’t have known only the day before Brian had said the same thing about Viggo’s own story. For the first time in a long time he almost felt like sharing what happened. Almost. He fumbled for words, feeling awkward and was relieved when Viggo spoke first. “Don’t. Orli, just don’t. You don’t owe me anything. Nothing, alright. Friends... Okay? Friends.” Viggo rested his forehead on Orlando’s and the two men stood there and sensed their tentative bonds of trust strengthen. The moment was broken with the ring of Orlando’s phone. Fortunately, it was just Mike reassuring him that he would take care of everything. Still unsure Orlando hung up the phone and smiled wanly, “Can we go out now and have some fun?”
Viggo grinned and grabbed his jacket, “Absolutely.”
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Brian lost himself to the beat of the music and the rhythm of his partner. The dance floor was only half full; quiet for a Monday, just right for the group to go out anonymously and let loose a bit. Brian’s eye grazed appreciatively over his partner’s body, fuck was he gorgeous; no wonder Viggo was completely taken by him, even if he wouldn't admit it. Orlando was lost in the music, like a flame he flickered and danced giving off a glow of intensity as he licked his away across the dance floor, graceful in spite of all he’d had to drink that evening. His hair damp against the nape of his neck from his exertion, pink tongue glinted across his lips in concentration, flash of satin skin as his shirt’s hem danced along the waistband of his jeans – he oozed sexuality and sin, and remarkably, was oblivious to the reactions he caused in the wake of his gyrations. Over Orlando’s shoulder, Brian caught Viggo’s concerned stare and wasn’t sure if the look stemmed from some sort of misplaced jealousy or more likely because of the quantity of alcohol Orlando had already consumed. Placing a hand on Orlando’s shoulder he indicated that he was too hot and slid off the through the sparse crowd over to Viggo.
“What’s up? You look like you don’t know whether to kill him or cuddle him.” Brian slid up to the bar and settled in next to Viggo.
“Fuck off, I do not. I’m concerned that’s all.” Viggo sputtered.
“You can’t save him from himself Vig.” He said softly, reaching for his beer.
“That I do know. That doesn’t stop me from being concerned; though I do believe it precludes me from killing and or cuddling him.” Viggo grinned letting Brian know that he truly was fine with everything.
“Think you’ve been OD’ing on Law & Order or something old man. Seriously, he’s probably burning off a lot of the booze he’s shot-gunned out there.” Brian gestured to the dance floor where Orlando was now in a three way dance with Dom and Elijah no less sinful and looking even sexier if that were possible. “So what’s your secret?” Brian asked with a glint in his eye as they both followed the fluid movements of Orlando.
“Secret?” Viggo asked confused.
“Yeah the secret of how the hell you’ve resisted him while he’s been sleeping under the same roof. There’s obviously some connection between the two of you. So what are you doing… locking him in his room every night or what?”
“Leave it YB.” Viggo fiddled with his beer. “He’s got issues; I’ve got issues. It just wouldn’t be right and truthfully, I don’t know if it would ever be right.” Brian looked back to Viggo and then back to the young man dancing with abandon. “Shame.” He said quietly.
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know YB.” The two men continued to watch the trio until the music slowed to dull throb bringing them off the dance floor to refuel. Orlando ordered another double-double. Viggo raised his eyebrow and asked if perhaps Orlando had already had enough. Before Orlando could respond, Elijah was quick to jump to his defense. “He’s had a rough night Viggo, he earned the right to blow off some steam don’t you think?” Orlando didn’t bother to participate in the conversation and wandered off to the washroom. “Besides, Dom and I usually dump half of it out when he’s not looking and he never seems to notice.” Elijah smirked proudly.
Viggo shook his head slowly. “He doesn’t need you to make excuses or dilute drinks for him Elijah. What he needs to do is know when he’s had enough and when to stop; you’re not giving him that opportunity.” Viggo knew he sounded preachy, but at this point in the evening it wouldn’t matter what he said, the context would be lost completely. Just then Orlando stumbled back and downed a third of his glass. “Gonna dance with me Vig?” He slurred draping himself over the older man’s shoulders.
“Nah, Orli, I think I’m going to head home. We’ve got a big day tomorrow, need to rest my bones. Stay if you like; I’m sure Brian will get you home.” Viggo fought to keep his tone neutral.
“Wanna go with you Viggo.” His eyes were heavy and his speech slow and movements slower.
Reminding Dom and Elijah what time they were leaving in the morning to participate in the Charity race, Viggo said his goodbye’s as Orli tried remain nonchalantly upright. Viggo wound his way through the club letting Orlando use his arm for support as he weaved dangerously on his feet.
Once in the car, Orli started singing with the radio; a completely endearing, out of tune rendition of CCR’s Have You Ever Seen the Rain. Viggo smiled, even drunk there was something about Orlando that just made him shine and brighten everything around him. Viggo considered curling up like cat in a puddle of Orli’s sunlight and purring contentedly. This was not good, not good at all, Viggo thought.
At the house Orli had sobered up a little, enough at least that he wasn’t dead weight as Viggo guided him upstairs. The entire time Orlando babbled and cooed, thanking Vig for taking such good care of him and draping himself on the older man at every opportunity. Finally Viggo realized that climbing the stairs side-by-side was giving Orlando more of a chance to hinder the process than help. He gently shoved Orlando ahead and continued to follow a few steps behind, when Orli turned and sat down abruptly on the stairs. From Viggo’s step a few below he was face to face with a drunk and grinning Orlando. The young man reached and grabbed Viggo’s hands pulling him firmly toward him causing Viggo to drop to his knees in between Orlando’s legs and struggling to keep his balance. With a speed that belied his drunken state, Orlando dropped the artists’ hands, gently cupped his face and with determination pulled Viggo forward and softly kissed him. Viggo’s surprise gave Orlando the extra time he needed to tease Viggo’s lips gently with his tongue, gaining entrance and with cautious finesse, reverently caress his warm wet cavern, stroking his tongue and tasting everything he had to offer.
Orlando slid his hand around to the back of Viggo’s head and held him close, letting his fingers to curl into the soft, thick hair at the nape of his neck. Both men moaned into each others mouths allowing the kiss to gain momentum and intensity. Viggo braced his hands on the stair either side of Orlando’s waist and with great reluctance pulled away.
“Stop Orlando, you’re drunk.” Viggo tried to catch his breath and get his heart rate under control, desperately trying to not to think about amazingly hot a drunk Orli could kiss.
“You want me.” Orlando said simply, letting his hand slide the length of Viggo’s neck, along his broad shoulder and down his arm; not allowing his gaze to waiver from Viggo. Viggo inhaled sharply at Orlando’s blunt statement, trying to figure out whether denial or admission would be the best tack to take. Pushing himself up to his knees he fought the pull of Orlando’s sexiness – his unruly curls, flushed cheeks and smoldering eyes that sparked as Viggo unconsciously licked his bottom lip – and decided that he would be as blunt and honest in return. “I do… and you’re still drunk. Even if you weren’t, we both know that this can’t happen, not now, not like this and certainly not because your ex *girlfriend* pissed you off.” Viggo’s voice was pitched low and firm. “I think you should go to bed.”
The two men stared at each other for a long minute, Orlando looked like he was either about to argue his case or just grab Viggo and pull him into another passionate kiss, before he finally sagged noticeably and meekly nodded as he pushed himself up two stairs without ever taking his eyes off Viggo. As Orlando moved, Viggo suffered several losses; the heat that had been radiating off Orlando, the passion that faded from Orlando’s eyes and the piece of his own heart that left with Orlando. At the top of the stairs, silhouetted in the moonlight, Orlando turned and whispered, “It was never about Kate, Vig… never that,” Before turning into the loft, leaving only the soft click of the bathroom door in his wake.
TBC
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Date: 2005-08-18 06:28 am (UTC)Bravo for the great work you've done on this, sweetie! I know I'm going to be looking forward to each new chapter every day!
*hugs*
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Date: 2005-08-18 10:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-18 08:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-19 12:28 am (UTC)Great chapter... now they are friends... that need to work on being more than friends :-) Thanks!
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Date: 2005-08-19 02:11 am (UTC)Glad you're enjoying.
Cheers,
rb
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Date: 2005-08-19 02:14 am (UTC)*hugs*
rb
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Date: 2005-08-19 02:24 am (UTC)As for chapters every day... umm... I'm just about caught up posting all the completed chapters and then the posting will be more like once or twice a week. I'm off on holiday for a few days so I won't be able to post until middle of next week sometime -- though who knows I might be able to sneak one in before then.
cheers and thank you,
rb
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Date: 2005-08-19 02:26 am (UTC)Cheers,
rb