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Shades of Grey	By : IosPillowBook Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 2557 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Orlando Bloom. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Shades of Grey
- 1
*Disclaimer*

This story is a piece of fiction, it features real people in imaginary situations. No profit is involved, no assertion being made nor any disrespect intended.

Shades of Grey

"Don't get me wrong," she said one evening in Morocco while feeding the dogs. The quiet patio was drenched in a flood of orange light, but with each minute the shadows grew longer. Before long, it would be cooler.

"I love being here. It's fun. This place's fantastic and it's great spending time with you, but somehow I don't get it. Why me? Why such an arrangement at all? You could have any girl you wanted. You don't need to pay for it."

"Oh, Katie, they didn't tell you, did they?" he said with a small, lopsided smile, taking her hands in his. "They said that I need a girlfriend. But I don't want one. It's as simple as that."

And suddenly she understood. Why hadn't she seen … ? True, whenever his Rings buddies had been around, they had always been all over each other, cuddling, embracing each other constantly - a kiss here, a kiss there. But that didn't matter much these days, did it?

When she had been younger she and her best friend had held hands, too. And once she had even kissed Angela on the mouth, just to shock the guys at their posh equestrian club who knew no better than stare at the two of them and make snotty remarks whenever they saw them together. She had felt so daring then, had even bragged about it the same evening to her cousin.

Of course, her mother had overheard everything. "Stop acting like a slut," she had said sharply. "That's not your style, Catherine Anne."

From that moment on, Kate had not repeated the mistake of telling someone whom she was kissing or whether the kisses were for real. But can you fake kisses? Can you fake being in love with someone? Of course you can. It's what they call acting. And that was her job, wasn't it?

"It's ok," she hastened to assure him, pressing his hands before he let go. Then Sidi jumped up and put his pitch-black paws onto her lap. She laughed at the dog's attempts to lick her nose, laughed a bit too shrilly perhaps, almost tipping over the glass of wine next to her. Oh, what to do with her hands?

Her cheeks felt red-hot, as if she had stayed in the sun too long. Fortunately, it was so dark now that he would not notice. At least she hoped so. She didn't want him to think that she was one of those silly Hollywood chicks, acting all liberal while being just as prejudiced as their mothers. "I don't mind, Orlando. Not at all."

"That's what I had been hoping," he said and his smile grew more open. "Actually, I wouldn't have expected anything else. We've become friends, haven't we?"

She nodded eagerly, pointing to the small table in front of them. "Now, what about another game? Or are you afraid I'll trash you again?"

"Everything's fine with me, as long as I don't end up in trash movies," he answered, smiling, quickly catching her glass before its contents could spill over the backgammon set.

What's the big deal? she thought, reaching for the dice box. Get used to it. The sooner the better.

***

In practice, however, it was all different when she saw Viggo kiss Orlando for the first time. Kiss him in earnest, not just some hello-nice-to-see-you kiss on the cheek.

The taxi driver had dropped them off in some quiet part of the town where she was sure she had never been before. Suddenly, Viggo turned around the corner, opening his arms, beaming.

Gee, stop staring, she told herself and began to study the nearest shop window. Cups and bowls for breakfast cereals in bright colours, Italian design, with happy Snoopies or Mickey Mouses grimacing back at her. Fuck, who needed stupid stuff like that?

From the corner of her eyes she noticed how Viggo stepped back, still holding Orlando's hands, how he looked Orlando up and down, grinning like a 12-year-old kid on Christmas Eve before he muttered something like, "It's been quite a while."

"Way too long a while," Orlando said, framing Viggo's face and pulling him in for another kiss.

Kate quickly looked back to the fancy bits and pieces in the shop window. Why had Orlando wanted her to come along at all? To personally witness the greatest love of all time?

Not that she was jealous, of course not.

Kate swallowed, her mouth felt dry as if from too much coffee. Whose face lit up like this when seeing her?

When Orlando had finally recovered his breath, he introduced her to Viggo. And Viggo smiled, hugged her spontaneously and said, "Until now, I've only known you from the papers. Good to meet you at last."

Realizing she was fidgeting with her hands again, she quickly entwined the fingers behind her back. Why hadn't Orlando told her they would be going out with Viggo? Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable in those loose, worn-out jeans and Orlando's I'm not here t-shirt. What an irony, with each second she really wished she was somewhere else.

"Yes, I'm … happy to see you, too. This is just a bit unexpected. Orlando only told me he wanted to pick up something for dinner."

Viggo chuckled. "Pick up something, aha." He turned to Kate. "Yeah, Orlando loves to surprise people."

"As if that had ever bothered you?" Orlando grinned, giving Viggo a fake punch in the stomach before he turned to her again.

"Sorry, Katie, didn't want to run you over. But I thought it would be easier this way. I wanted you two to meet in private, not on some press event."

"Press events …," Viggo rolled his eyes. "Can't say how grateful I am that all these promos are over, at least for now."

Kate tried a breathless little laugh, shrugging her shoulders. "Actually, I found it was pretty exciting, you know, doing the press conferences for Blue Crush."

Viggo nodded. "That attitude certainly makes things easier. But wait how you feel about it after weeks of answering the same questions over and over again. Sure, it's all part of the job. And I don't mind talking about a movie or the character I play. What I find quite scary is the interest people seem to take in my private life."

"Right, as if one's private life was automatically part of the show, too. It's getting so old being asked again and again how I'm coping with my heart-throb status."

"But it's only natural to ask that. Because you are such a heart-throb, Orlando." Viggo winked. "Or what d'you say, Kate?"

"Well, he isn't exactly ugly," she said, returning Viggo's grin. "Sometimes, he can even be quite amusing. That is, if he doesn't come up with one of his so-called surprises."

Viggo laughed. "Orlando's a constant source of surprises. At least to me." Stepping between Kate and Orlando, he put his arms around their shoulders. "What about dinner? Orlando told me you like couscous?"

***

To Kate's surprise the evening turned out better than expected.

She had been afraid she would feel like an unwanted guest or that Viggo would sooner or later switch into experienced-elder-actor-mode, lavishing advice regarding the do's and don'ts in showbiz on his younger colleagues. But Viggo wasn't like that at all.

"What d'you think about soccer, Kate?"

"Oh, look Vig, here's your drink." Quickly, Orlando handed him a beer, adding under his breath. "Say something, Kate, pronto, or Viggo will ramble on endlessly why San Lorenzo is the best team the world has ever seen."

"Um, how's TJ?"

"Don't think I didn't hear that, Orlando. Thanks, TJ's fine. This so-called sports fanatic said you like riding, too?"

So they talked about horses and about Morocco, about sunsets in the desert and why eating locusts wasn't so bad after all. And soon Kate didn't feel awkward any more.

But whenever their sentences began with "Do you remember … ?" they both got that dreamy look on their faces.

Often, they'd only exchange fragments like "that night you bastard made us all cross that ice-cold river …".

Or talked about "that day, when I tried to teach you surfing, you hopeless case … " .

"That lake where you absolutely had to go fishing … "

"My sundeck at night … ".

"Your makeshift studio, god, what a mess, that always was … ".

After a while, she got tired of questioning what had actually happened on this or that occasion. It was like people talking about a long-lost, sort of mythical Golden Age. She would never know how it had been.

Viggo never treated her with anything other than exquisite politeness. His interest seemed genuine when he asked her about her current projects and he laughed heartily when she told him about the adventures she and Orlando had had when going shopping at one of the local bazaars in Morocco.

Later, she often wondered what Viggo thought about all this, whether he was happy with this sort of arrangement. Viggo had a clear opinion on everything, be it the general uselessness of mobiles or the war in Iraq. And while he was soft-spoken and generally preferred to keep a low-key profile, he never hesitated to be outspoken when he felt matters needed addressing.

"So how does this undercover relationship fit into your scheme of things?" Kate would have wanted to ask him, but the opportunity for that kind of question never presented itself. Or, more likely, she simply didn't dare to ask.

"It doesn't matter what you tell the press," Orlando remarked calmly on another occasion when the bulbs flashed at them as he and Kate left a nightclub together. "They tell lies about you anyway. So why not feed them lies right from the beginning?"

"When did you become that cynical?" Kate wanted to ask him. Is it the business that sooner or later makes you say things like that? Perhaps even believe them?

But then she remembered how she had felt when the paparazzi had first caught them together. How she had looked down quickly, hoping no one would notice the satisfied look on her face.

"Orlando, Orlando! Kate, look over here!" someone from the crowd shouted. Orlando pulled her closer, waving back at the photographers with the other hand. This time, Kate looked down again. The smile had frozen on her lips.

In Viggo's presence, Orlando didn't treat her any differently than before. He was kind and charming and always laughed a lot. He must be happy, she thought.

Kate didn't know whether she was happy or not. What did it matter? It was only a job.

Because it was not entirely true that Orlando treated her like he had before Viggo had come. Orlando didn't do it on purpose, that she knew for sure. Orlando was too polite for that. But now and then, when talking to her, he stopped in mid-sentence, commenting instead upon something Viggo had said to someone else on the table.

Minor flaws - she could easily deal with that. Of course she could.

***

So when Charlize invited them to stay for a long weekend at her beach house Kate was actually looking forward to it.

Right from the beginning Viggo had announced that he wouldn't join them. Naturally, it hadn't been his fault that Peter had fired Stuart, way back in New Zealand. And Charlize, hospitable as she was, had insisted on Viggo's coming. After Stuart was detained by his current filming schedule, Viggo finally agreed to come over for a short visit, though he didn't say when he would join them.

One night, it was well after midnight already, Kate walked down the stairs from her room, trying to remember the number of margaritas she had had that evening. Definitely fewer than Charlize. It had only been eleven or so when Charlize had declared that she would have to leave the party, like "right now", or she would no longer be able to climb the stairs up to her own bedroom.

Maybe Kate had had just as many drinks. She wasn't used to all that alcohol, it made her feel fuzzy, but not in a good way. Most probably she'd wake up with a head the size of Mexico. Water, yes, water would be perfect now.

So Kate went down the stairs in search of some mineral water. Light switches seemed to be non-existent in this house, but it didn't matter. It wasn't a dark night. Outside the beach was gleaming in the moonlight.

Apart from the light coming from outside, the living area was dark now. Had the other guests left already? Just when she was about to shout out "Anybody here?", she realized that someone must still be down there. No, not just one, but two people, and from the sounds she heard those people were having a very private moment.

Kate should have gone back to her room then. She should have simply turned around and walked back up the stairs. But she didn't. Instead, she cautiously and very, very quietly crept down the stairs until she could peek into the open living room.

Afterwards, Kate didn't know how long she had been standing there on the landing, pressed against the wall, well-hidden in the shadows. She could not even have said whether she had been breathing during that time.

Orlando lay sprawled on one of the sofas, head thrown back. The moonlight, coming from the huge windows behind him, was on his bare arms and shoulders, and on his forehead. Somebody else was kneeling in front of him, his hands spread on Orlando's thighs. Even though Kate could only see the back of that other man, his dishevelled hair and broad shoulders, she knew it could only be Viggo.

Where had Viggo come from? And what did these two think they were doing? Any moment someone else could walk in on them. Orlando was not exactly quiet. All this panting and gasping - did they have to be that loud?

But then Kate almost gasped herself as she heard the sound of a zipper being pulled followed by Viggo's quiet laughter.

"I see you've been waiting for me."

"All night long."

"Just like me. Thought that production meeting would never end. Thought how badly I wanted to kiss you." He lowered his head between Orlando's opened legs. "Taste you. Fuck you."

Orlando drew in a deep breath. "God, yes."

Kate couldn't exactly see what Viggo was doing, but those soft keening sounds Orlando was making again were telling enough. Soon, Orlando's hands left the couch and gripped Viggo's hair fiercely, pushing Viggo down on him even further. It didn't take long until he came moaning and crying out brokenly, "oh, oh!"

Kate should have left then. The two men wouldn't have noticed anything. They were kissing each other deeply, Orlando lying on top of Viggo now, naked.

But Kate stayed.

After a while Orlando whispered, "Now, I want to you to come."

It was only a quiet, breathless whisper, yet Kate heard it and the words burned themselves into her memory. So did the image of those two bodies writhing, partly in darkness, partly under soft white light, Viggo kneeling behind Orlando, his hands on Orlando's hips. Orlando's arms were stretched out wide in front of him, sweaty curls were falling down on his face. Shivers ran through his body after he pushed back to meet Viggo's violent thrusts.

Suddenly, Kate felt almost sick. She shouldn't be here, she shouldn't be seeing this. In a wild haste she hurried back up the stairs, slammed the door behind her and fell on her bed.

Her heart was beating madly. She felt hot and wet and the feeling of emptiness between her thighs was unbearable.

She longed to be down there, among them, feel hot naked skin and greedy fingers touch her while she was sitting astride Orlando. Naked like them. And Viggo's large hands would be on her breasts while he murmured against her neck: "Be a good girl. Ride him for me, baby."

And then one of Viggo's hands would wander down her belly, part her legs and touch them where she and Orlando were joined. Orlando's cock would pulse at that contact. She could feel it inside her.

She looked into Orlando's face, trying to figure out what those dark glances meant. Was he actually looking back at her? She didn't want to know.

"Ssssshhhh". A hand on the side of her face, so very gentle. "It's alright, darling," Orlando sat up, and smiled, pulling her down on him again, one thick, wet push, impaling her again and again and again.

Kate's sighs changed into erratic whimpers. She knew she wouldn't last long with Orlando's slow, deliberate moves. Her lips, her hands, her fingers started tingling, she felt even more dizzy than before.

And then there was Viggo, pressed up against her back, solid and strong, thumb on her sweet spot and fingers closed around Orlando's cock.

And there were those kisses, wet, lazy kisses, blurring her perception of where her own body ended in that tangle of arms and hands and legs. It was as if she had become part of a multi-limbed creature.

Soon their movements grew more frantic and Kate found herself clinging to Orlando, nails dug into his shoulders, oblivious to everything but this in and out and up and down, filling her so completely.

Still, she almost jerked when she felt a slick finger penetrate her, open her even further. This felt strange, not entirely pleasant at first. At the same time, Viggo's other hand - she could still smell Orlando on his fingers - wandered to her mouth, prying her open there, too. "Will you let me in, too?” Viggo murmured, head buried in her hair.

Kate swallowed. Did they actually both want to do her at the same time? Wouldn't that be…too much? Wouldn't that … hurt?

"Don't be afraid. He won't hurt you," Orlando said, as if having read her thoughts. Kate couldn't help but stare at him. His eyes were so dark now.

And then, very slowly, she nodded.

Taking her with him Orlando leaned back again, kissing her. He whispered soothing words against her cheek when she inhaled sharply, biting her lips. "Slowly, slowly."

At first, it felt like they were tearing her apart. Viggo was so big. But then that tingling sensation washed through her body again and there was no more pain, just rhythm and movement. The many-limbed beast rose again, writhing, squirming, moaning …

And, without warning, Kate was catapulted onto an entirely new plane of existence, into utter blackness with red suns flashing up brightly, their heat consuming her entirely.

Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing. She closed her eyes and let herself be drawn into the spiralling heat around her.

For it was not enough, still not enough.

Kate cried out.

And opened her eyes again.

It was all dark around her. She was alone in her room.

Her hand was a poor substitute, though she came, long and hard, just from picturing again what she had seen downstairs.

But her face was wet from tears.

What about me? What about me? Nobody gives a damn about me.

It was near dawn when she finally fell asleep.

***

The next day, it was almost noon when she came down to the sundeck where the rest of their party was gathered for a late breakfast. Orlando was there, too, lounging in one of the deck chairs, fishing peach slices from a plate on the floor. He frowned slightly when he saw her face.

"Where's … ?" she blurted, before thinking about it, but he winked. "Ssssh, Katie."

With a face of mock indignation, Charlize turned and put an arm around Kate.

"No good shushing, Orlando, we know your little secrets. But don't you think you should give your girl some more rest? She looks a bit worn out today."

"Good God, Charlize," Orlando rolled his eyes. "You make it sound like I was insatiable." He pulled Kate down onto his lap and placed a kiss on her forehead. "What's up, Katie darling? Too much tequila?" he added in a lower voice, only meant for her, touching her cheek gently.

And Kate looked at him for a long moment, thinking how bizarre all this was.

In the beginning, she had believed she had made such a deal. But what had it gotten her so far?
Celebrity? Judging from the number of articles that appeared every week about them she must be quite famous by now. But would that kind of publicity actually help her to land some classy roles, too?

Friendship? Yes, definitely. But sometimes friendship was no longer enough. She wanted a real boyfriend. Real kisses and a real fuck. She was sick of looking at their happiness. She was sick of playing the shiny, happy girl.

Still, she knew that from now on she would wander through silent corridors at night and wait behind closed doors, listening hard to hear those sighs and moans and whispers again. Even if she'd never to dare to open the door.

But what if she picked up the courage? They would look at her with empty faces. Maybe, Viggo would smile, like he'd smile at a lost child and Orlando would be all wide-eyed and sorry. "But Katie, that's a misunderstanding."

Yeah, it had been a misunderstanding right from the beginning.

"Hey, what is it?" Orlando asked once more, very quiet.

Suddenly, the bread roll in her mouth tasted like cardboard. "Nothing. I'm fine," she said.
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Shades of Grey