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Flying With Eagles	By : Zar Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 10192 -:- 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.

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Title: Flying with Eagles
Author: Zar
Email: squishypiglet@hotmail.co.uk
LJ: http://www.livejournal.com/users/squishypiglet/
Warnings: This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it!
Pairings: Viggorli with special guest Eric Bana.
Disclaimer: This is not true, despite all my wishes.
Summary: Little Bit of Heaven, Whole Lot of Hell

Chapter 12

My god has the most beautiful hands in the world. I think I t bet be a little biased, but who cares. His right hand is in my left and in the beginning, I didn’t dare move, just in case it shook the little world the two of us had, just my hand cradling his. I felt my heart take a nosedive when he pulled his hand away to wrap his bandana back around his head, but after it was tied, he calmly picked up my hand again to . I . I think that was when I knew I didn’t want to let go.

He was enjoying the breeze, head thrown back against the backrest of the bench and his eyes were shut. It was disappointing that the purple monstrosity had been replaced around his head because I would have liked to see his curls (and Johnson in particular) ruffle in the wind. But it was when he was this relaxed and unaware that I took a closer look at his hand.

My god has artistic hands – of that there is no doubt. His hand is smaller than mine and fits nicely, but I reach over and hold his hand in both of mine, lifting it closer to my face to investigate. He has long tapering fingers which are full at the base and slightly pointed. He’s a ‘child of impulse’, is he? He doesn’t have many calluses either, there is just smoothness and soft skin, although the pads of his fingers are slightly tougher. There is a love of art, music and beauty in him – artistic and impulsive, though low on patience and tire easily. Oh, my perfect Orlando.

“What are you doing? Your breath is tickling.”

I look up from my exploration to find brown eyes looking curiously at me.

“You’re artistic.”

“…what?”

I have got to learn to stop just blurting things out – sometimes people can’t follow my thought patterns. I can’t understand it, but it used to drive Henry crazy when I ‘went off on another Viggo-tangent’.

“I am looking at your hand.”

He grins at me.

“You read palms? Am I going to die anytime soon? How many children will I have?”

I roll my eyes at him and push his hand away.

“I don’t read palms. I am reading your hand.
“Do
“Don’t understand the difference.”

And that starts one of many extraordinary conversations we have, and hopefully the first of many more to come.

I had entirely forgotten about Crutch-man until he cleared his throat and stood over us so his shadow seemed to cover us.

“Orlando, we need to go or Eric will worry.”

This is shameful, but I was secretly pleased when I saw the young man’s face fall. I guess we all know whose company he enjoys more, hey?

“All right. Viggo, I have to go.”

I don’t want him to go.

“I don’t want you to go.”

He chuckles quietly and raises my hand to his mouth.

“I’ll see you later, but I have to go now. I need to meet Eric.”

Eric. That Leopard-man again. I wonder how close the two of them are. If he has his way, I am never going to see my god again. Especially since the evil Crutch-man saw everything, he’s definitely going to tattle back to his boss and that’ll be the end of it all.

“Okay. I’ll see you later.”

“Viggo…”

I don’t think I did a very good job of keeping the dejection and apprehension out of my voice. He doesn’t give up and pulls on my hand.

“Look, Viggo, are you free tonight? I’ll see you then. You’ve moved in for over a week and I still don’t know what your place looks like. I’ll come over tonight, okay?”

Yeah you will, if Leopard-man doesn’t skin you alive first.

“Sure.”

He looks suspiciously at me. We must really have some kind of connection because he can already gauge my moods so well. I really hope we’ll see each other tonight.

My beautiful god gets up carefully with help and it is then I remember that I never asked him about his injury. I wonder if it’s too soon to ask something that is obviously personal to him? Maybe he’ll bring it up later.

My hand receives one more kiss before perfection waves goodbye to Vanessa and the kids and limps off. So, it’s me alone again. I think I am starting to get used to the pattern. It’s weird, why didn’t I offer to take Orlando home as well? I think there’s a sad little part of me that is still afraid of the bigger, smarter, sexier Leopard-man. Damn him.

“Que pensez vous?”

“Comme toujours…Orlando.”

It does not occur to me what I had done until I heard a snicker and I looked around to see Vanessa trying to repress a grin. She gives up and laughs loudly when she sees how shocked I look.

“Quoi? You think I didn’t know you spoke French?”

I don’t know what to say and she appears so proud of herself.

“You knew I spoke French.” This idea still hasn’t sunk in yet.

“I had a hunch…and you should have seen the way you and Orli walked into the park together – the sexual tension! You shouldn’t bring that kind of strain to a child’s playground. Besides, I was getting sick of listening to Orli talk about you all the time, I thought I should help out.”

“You thought you should help out.”

I sound like a crazy parrot, imitating everything she says.

“Yes! And aren’t you pleased? You should be thanking me. I wish I had a camera, the way the two of you sat here holding hands for about two hours. I’ve never seen anything so sweet!”

Wow, never expected Vanessa to be a gusher, but she’s babbling and excited. Well, she might as well act as young as she looks, and her excitement is contagious, I am starting to let the reality of it hit me.

“I can’t believe he likes me.”

“Why not? You’re sexy.”

I don’t bother to acknowledge that remark. She’s just trying to make me feel better.

“Well, I have to thank you anyway. How did you know I was listening?”

“If you cocked your head any closer to us from the sandpit, you would have been pressed flat against him.”

I wasn’t that obvious…was I? And why did she have to put that image in my head?? I casually lean forward to hide a certain tent in my pants but she catches my involuntary glimpse of interest anyway and rolls her eyes.

“Oh Viggo, you’ve got it bad.”

Don’t you think I know it?

I am still floating on a cloud until I get back to my apartment and see Ryan lying naked on my couch. Oh. My. God. What is he doing?

“Ryan?? Why…why are you naked?”

He twists around to face me and winks saucily.

“Hey, you’re finally back…I’ve been waiting for you.”

What am I supposed to do now? How can I let him down easily…I was such an ass for letting him kiss me before, he must have had the wrong impression and now, I don’t know how to thisthis without ruining our friendship.

That’s when it hits me. Orlando’s coming over here tonight. What am I going to do with Ryan, the ‘good friend I haven’t seen in years’?

I get a little bit of heaven, then a whole lot of hell. How did I get into this mess?

TBC...

The French I was aiming at was:

Vanessa: "What are you thinking?"

Viggo: "As usual...Orlando."

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! =)
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Flying With Eagles