FIC: It Has to Be

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

So, last night I get a call from my boyfriend's very cool aunt who is 70. She asks me what "yaoi" is (um...gay porn for the most part) and then the conversation turned to fanfiction and stuff she'd seen online (she's a Final Fantasy fan) and then I told her... "I've been posting some of my stories lately. It's Viggo Mortensen and Orlando Bloom." She goes, "Together?" "Yes." She was quiet for a moment then says, "Yeah, I can see that." If I hadn't loved her before, I certainly do now! Ha ha! See, even 70 year old women can understand the hotness of VigOrli!  Now, as for the story...I don't really like it, which is why it's the last of my old fics (finished) to be posted. Bear with me. Friday's fic will be better!

Title:  It Has to Be
Author: Ranmaru
Rating: PG
Summary:  What's really for the best?
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, just playing.
Beta'd by lenalovewho is lovely and fabulous and posts pics of OB that are so utterly droolworthy. ^_^

Orlando’s eyes glazed over as he stared at Viggo and the older man quickly crossed the room. “Don’t, please, don’t do this,” Viggo whispered hoarsely as he tried to take the Brit into his arms but Orli backed away.

 

“No…” Orli’s voice broke and he sucked in a shuddery breath.

 

Viggo let his arms drop to his sides. The dark emptiness in his chest was spreading, leaving the Dane weak and helpless. He couldn’t stop this, it had to be done but Jesus Christ it hurt.

 

“Why?” Orli’s voice was stronger but for the barest quiver.

 

“I know you don’t understand now-“

 

“You’re fucking right I don’t understand. What was all that bullshit about after the shoot, finding a place near you in the States? What the fuck was that?” Orli almost took a step forward, Viggo could see the violence in every clean line of the younger man’s body. The artist would have welcomed an angry shove, even a punch but Orli stayed still, that damned agonized look in his shining brown eyes.

 

“It wasn’t bullshit. It…” Viggi rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tense muscles. “I wanted it. It wasn’t a lie.”

 

“But you don’t want it anymore.”

 

He couldn’t look at Orlando when he said, “I can’t want it.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

“The hell it doesn’t matter! You’re doing this for my own good, right?” Orli laughed bitterly. “That’s rich. You should have thought of my own good a year ago!”

 

Viggo walked over to the wall of pictures he and Orli had accumulated over the course of the movie shoot and focused on Ian McKellen and the knight’s rakish wink. “I was only thinking of myself a year ago. Now…”

 

“Now I’m in love with you and if you end this I’ll never forgive you.”

 

Hands against the wall, Viggo leaned his forehead against the cool glass of a picture frame. “I don’t want that.”

 

“I’ll learn to hate you Viggo.”

 

His chest felt so tight, his throat burned. “Stop,” Viggo whispered raggedly.

 

Warm, familiar, strong arms slid around him as Orlando pressed his trembling body against Viggo. The soft bristles of his shaved head pricked the Dane in the neck. “You stop. Stop being such an idiot. Whatever is scaring you, we can deal with it.”

 

“Things will change when we leave New Zealand. You know that.” God, was that croaking voice his?

 

Orli nodded against his back. Soft lips caressed the sensitive skin just above the collar of his shirt. “I know. You think I’m some stupid kid? I’ve been on my own for a while. I know how to take care of myself.”

 

“Your career-“

 

“Is going to be fine, and even if the world finds out about us, and I suddenly find myself pigeon-holed in one gay role after another then so be it. Or…we could live in Europe where no one gives a shit.”

 

Viggo felt his lips twitch. “You won’t listen to me about this, will you?”

 

“I wouldn’t listen to anyone when they said I’d never be a famous actor either and look at me now.”

 

“Don’t let me fuck this up, Orlando.”

 

“I won’t. It’s going to be okay.”

 

Viggo turned and buried his face in Orli’s neck, holding the Brit so tight he knew Orli couldn’t possibly breathe but there wasn’t a murmur of complaint from the man in his arms, his own hold on Viggo tightening just as much.

 

 

 

END