FIC: Ordinary World, Ch 5, Pt 2

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

 from my journal...

Many thanks to gattodoro for the beta-ing and advice! And to lenalove for the encouragement!
FINALLY! Viggo and Orli have a real conversation! Whoohoo!

Title: Ordinary World
Author: ranmaru
Rating: PG (for now)
Summary: For Orlando Bloom, fame isn't all it's cracked up to be, but when he returns home, he finds that life has gone on without him and he's not sure where he fits in anymore.
Disclaimer: Don't know them, don't own them. Just playing.

Previous Chapters (the unedited versions, still - Sorry!)
Chapter One: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
Chapter Two: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Chapter Three: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Chapter Four: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Chapter Five: Part 1

The sky was overcast when Orlando set out to meet Billy and Dominic at the café the following afternoon. He’d gotten a call from Billy to say they were going to come over that night and Orli, wanting to see the American again, volunteered to meet them at the shop to get a coffee for the walk back to the hotel. The call had come after Ellen’s and had been more than welcome.

 

Not that he didn’t enjoy talking to Ellen, he loved the woman from the tips of her red hair to her painted toes, but when she was calling to tell him he had to do yet another face-to-face interview, he had found himself tired at just the thought of it. She’d sounded apologetic but he knew it was her job and since Orlando was still under contract with the production company, if they said jump he didn’t bother asking questions before taking to the air.

 

The artist was wearing a battered fedora hat and looking up at the sky when Orli saw him. Long legs encased in faded jeans that hugged his thighs and ass, a long-sleeved shirt, one arm pushed up the other not. Orli wanted to reach out and take off the hat, but he settled for standing beside the American and looking up at the sky.

 

“Think it will rain?” he asked, his neck starting to get a crick.

 

“Buckets.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“You don’t have an umbrella?”

 

Orli blinked and suddenly found himself staring into light blue eyes that made his stomach flutter nervously. “Never carry one.”

 

“Isn’t that against all English laws?” Those light eyes danced with humor and Orli felt himself smiling.

 

“I’m a rebel.”

 

“You’ll be a wet rebel.” The American smirked and transferred his gaze to the painting. Orlando looked as well and realized it wasn’t the same building, but the street itself, road markings and sewer grates, and the pavement with its street lamps and trash bins, carefully planted trees and flower planters that most students used for benches.

 

“I like it.”

 

“Thanks. Do you paint?”

 

“No time, no talent.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“I need to meet my friends.” Orlando took a step back, reluctant to leave, but feeling too awkward to stay. The artist didn’t turn his head to face him, but his eyes slide sideways to glance at him.

 

“See you tomorrow?”

 

Orlando opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say. His face felt hot, his scalp prickled, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to throw up or laugh. Instead, he just made some kind of noise that he hoped was a word, any word, and quickly walked to the café.

 

Dominic was at the counter and he nodded his head to the back room and Orli held up one finger, hoping the other man knew he wanted a coffee. He leaned against the counter and tapped his toe on the floor, his mind whirling as fast as his pulse was racing.

 

See you tomorrow?

 

Did that mean the artist wanted to see him again? Or was he just being polite because Orlando had given him money? Orli rubbed his temples and groaned. God, that was it. He wanted more money! Maybe he was wondering why he hadn’t gotten a donation when Orli had stopped to talk.

 

The actor sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Idiot,” he chastised himself. “Getting all stupid over nothing.” He felt a little better knowing the reason behind the question. Also, a little embarrassed and…disappointed. Why disappointed?

 

Orlando thought about those eyes, laughing at him - with him - he didn’t know. They were intense eyes, making his stomach flutter like that. Nice eyes, he decided. Little lines at the sides spoke of laughter and maybe squinting in the sun as he painted. Orli rubbed his stomach, the flutters having been replaced with an odd warmth, but before he had a chance to think about it, the door opened.

 

Dominic came into the room holding a paper cup and Orli beamed happily. The coffee here really was good. “Will you be my best friend?” he asked as he took the cup. He reached for his wallet, but the shop owner waved his hand.

 

“Maybe, and it’s on the house. You’ve made my Billy walk on clouds, and I did promise free coffee for life, remember?”

 

“A promise I will shamelessly take advantage of, just to make that clear.” Orli sniffed at his coffee. “Heaven.”

 

“Bills called to say he’s running late. He’s meeting with a few potential actors.”

 

“I can wait.”

 

“And I need to cover for one my employees who called in sick. Might be about thirty minutes before-“

 

Orli held up a hand. “I can wait.” He grinned. “I’ll be outside. I have my cell so just ring me when you’re ready.”

 

“Thanks, mate.”

 

Orlando followed Dominic out of the backroom and weaved his way to the exit. He grinned when he saw the American still set up and made his way towards him. There was a woman standing behind the artist and to the side, watching him. Orli frowned as he passed her, wrinkling his nose at her perfume and casually sat on the planter near the artist’s set-up and sipped his coffee. He tugged down the brim of his ball cap and glared at the woman until she left, though he doubted it had to do with his look; she hadn’t even glanced his way.

 

He sat there in silence, letting the sounds of the busy street wash over him, reminding him of sitting on the balcony of his hotel room. Familiar, relaxing sounds from his student days. He watched the American paint, long fingers carefully holding the paintbrush, the slow, graceful movements as he created his masterpiece.

 

“Tea?”

 

Orli started and looked up to see the artist pointing to his cup. “No.”

 

“Really? I thought all you English people drink is tea. And Real Ale, but maybe it’s too early for that.”

 

Orli snorted in amusement. “You’re stereotyping!”

 

“That’s really not tea?”

 

“Coffee.”

 

The artist took off his hat and let it drop into his tackle box of paints and gave Orlando a look that clearly asked, ‘really?’

 

“I’d offer a sip, but for Health and Safety reasons I won’t. I don’t even know your name.” He shrugged and took a sip of his cooling coffee.

 

“It’s Viggo. Hand it over.”

 

“You could be lying.”

 

“So could you.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“Neither am I.”

 

They stared at each other for a moment. Orli rolled his eyes. “Are all artists this uppity to their benefactors?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Give me your wallet,” he demanded, sliding off of the planter.

 

“I haven’t heard that since the divorce was final,” the American muttered.

 

“I’m going to check your driver’s license. No one names their child Viggo if they love him.” Orlando was a little surprised at how forward he was being with the American but the older man didn’t seem offended as he moved back in an exaggerated wince, his lips twitching as if ready to smile. And those laughing eyes…

 

“Ouch.” The American reached behind to pull his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. He hesitated, then opened the tri-fold leather wallet that looked years old and slid out a plastic card. He held it out.

 

Orli snatched it up and held it at eye level. “Crikey. What does the “P” stand for?”

 

“Peter.”

 

Orli lowered the card. “You don’t look like a Peter.” He gave the card back. “Viggo. Huh.”

 

“Named after my father.”

 

“So it was his parents that…” He grinned at the artist, Viggo.

 

“I’m Danish.”

 

“You don’t sound Danish.”

 

“My father is from Denmark.”

 

“You sound American.”

 

“I was born there.”

 

“So you just lied.” Orli leaned back against the planter, one hand on his hip. “I’m drinking coffee.”

 

Viggo’s eyes narrowed and he sniffed the air. “I don’t care anymore.”

 

“You do. You sniffed.”

 

“My nose was-“

 

“Ha!”

 

Viggo flinched back and blinked. “Don’t ‘ha’ me before I finish a sentence.”

 

“Are you finished?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Ha!”

 

Viggo sighed and looked up and down the street. “Don’t you have someplace to be?”

 

“No, I’m waiting for some friends.”

 

“And you thought, I’ll just go harass the nice painter until then?”

 

Orli shrugged. “Something like that.”

 

“What’s your name?”

 

Orlando didn’t know how to answer for a moment, it had been so long since someone had asked his name, not shouted it out at a press conference or premier. Most of his fans called him OB, a nickname he’d picked up in school where there had been two other students with the last name of Bloom. His close friends and family called him Orli, still he surprised himself by saying, “Call me Orli.”

 

“Orli?” Viggo smiled and it did crazy things to the actor’s stomach, heart, nerves, and brain which temporarily shut down and all he could do was stare at the older man. “I like that.”

 

“Me too.” Orlando mentally kicked himself and he straightened up. “I should go.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I’ll…I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

Viggo nodded. “Looking forward to it.”

 

Orlando smiled and scratched at the back of his neck as he walked back to the café. He could feel Viggo watching him. He liked it, and so decided not to think about it too much.

Comments

[zach1.livejournal.com]

I like the play on words alot. It was good to read the interplay between them.

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

And about time too. I think the Viggo-in-my-head was ready to give me a mental smack if I didn't give him more lines... ha ha!

[littlegreenleaf.livejournal.com]

This continues to get better and better. Congratulations on a job well done! Hope to see more soon. *hugs*

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

I felt bad about posting the un-edited previous chapters, so I'm going to work on getting those done first. I already have a vague idea for the next chapter... This fic has deviated so far from the original outline, I don't know why I don't just throw the darned thing out! Ha ha! Glad you liked it!

[kitty-76.livejournal.com]

Arghh, don't throw it out - really enjoying it so far!

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

*giggle* I meant the outline, not the fic. Too much invested in the fic to throw it out, plus, it's VigOrli...so much fun to play with! Thank you for liking it!!

[estels-artemis.livejournal.com]

I'm so glad they finally had a conversation. Love this story.

[cleokoneko.livejournal.com]

*is happy and bouncing* Thank you SOOOO much for updating! Love the Vig Orli banter, it just fits them so well! *g*

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

Ahh! Kero-chan!!! I was so happy to finally get to where I could get those two really talking. ^_^

[sitaray.livejournal.com]

awww....this is just too cute! So glad to see an update!

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I don't know what took so long, most of the conversation was already written...months ago... *grin*

[mywiel.livejournal.com]

Great job! I love the dialogue between them!