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Flying With Eagles	By : Zar Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 10191 -:- 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
- 14
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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: Sloe-Eyed Fluttering

Chapter 14

Soft bump of his head against my hand…tentative stroke of the curls…bump of the head…stroke of curls…bump…stroke…

I could do this forever. Except that Orlando is now turning to face me.

He really is beautiful, isn’t he? This is the closest I’ve ever been to him yet and his face is as perfect as it is further away. This type of natural light really suits him and I wish I had my camera. Those long fluttering lashes…they make my heart flutter too. Yet I am worried that if I move…he might not be here when I return.

For a long time, it’s okay that we’re both just staring at one another and not saying a word. I wonder what he sees when he’s looking at me. Wrinkles around the eyes? Drooping eyebags? Receding hairline? Thinning hair? I still don’t understand what he is doing here with an old, divorced unattractive stooge like myself. He should be out having fun with other beautiful young men…for example, handsome Mr Leopard. But no. He is here with me.

Thust ust count for something.

In the middle of thinking all these deep thoughts, I can suddenly smell it. It’s not something I smell often, but it’s permeating throughout my place – it’s the scent of sex. We were still sitting on the same sofa that Ryan had just earlier…stained. The cushions in question had been removed, I made sure of that…but the one beside Orlando, I can see it now, is still…not presentable.

Please don’t let him notice it. Trying as slyly as I can, I gy ley lean into his personal space and try to swipe at the cushion behind his butt, only to accidentally graze hhighhigh. This is not going well – he’s going to think the pervy old man is trying to get in his pants. Big smile pasted on my face, I try not to let my nervousness show in my expression.

“Viggo? Is something wrong?”

Damn. I am not a very good actor, evidently.

“Me? Of course not! I have you with me, don’t I?”

What is wrong with me today? I am just spewing the worst chat up lines in the history of the world. Earlier on, there was the comment about how he was lookinrwarrward to seeing himself, and now this? I am sooooo the sap king when I am nervous.

“Well…you just seem really tense.”

“I-I haven’t really…been with a guy before, that’s all.”

That is true. I am not lying. But that’s not the reason I am tense. It’s terrible how good I am becoming at this ‘misleading Orlando’ thing. I wish I didn’t have soh prh practice.

“To make this fair then, I’ll have to admit that I am a little nervous too.”

Oh my god. He’s nibbling on his lower lip. That lower lip. That juicy lower lip. That red juicy lower lip. Do you think if I asked politely, he would let me taste it too? With a cherry on top?

A quick grin, and then Orli is leaning back against the couch baring a long stretch of neck and a peek of the collarbones. I think collarbones are possibly the most erotic things in the world. Seriously…the wherehere is a slight hollow just above the centre…I can already taste and smell the sweat pooled there. I hope he doesn’t notice, but I can’t stop licking my lips.

Suddenly, he’s looking around suspiciously. Oh god…what is he doing?

He’s got his head cocked now and Johnson pokes him gently in the eye. A slender hand absentmindedly sweeps it out of his way.

“What are you doing, Orlando?”

Another suspicious little look around before eerseers at me.

“Do you smell something…weird?”

Oh dear god. I hear the sounds of my life crashing down around me. This is it. But I am noing ing down without a fight. I will fight for him, or die trying.

“Smell…something?”

That’s it…innocent, wide-eyed look. Might as well try to look around suspiciously as well. Nope, I have no idea what that weird sex smell is.

“Yeah…I can smell it…not that strongly, but it’s there.”

This boy is truly a god. No normal human has sensory glands like that – how can he smell cum that was left there a good two hours ago, and I had even wiped at the couch! Or maybe he’s got a radar for liars. Either way, I am screwed. And not in the good way. Keep playing the innocent…

“I don’t smell anything. Are you sure you’re not just smelling the chicken I am preparing? That’s the burnt smell in case you’re wondering.”

My chicken isn’t at all burnt, but a little joke never hurt anyone, and he’s smiling while hoisting himself ofe coe couch. I try to tumble casually where he had been sitting to land on top of the damn cushion. Ha! Take that, I can be sly if I have to be.

He’s looking around my living room trying to analyse the scent. I hope he’ll walk towards the kitchen so I’ll have time to chuck this thrice-damned cushion under the couch.

“Come on, Orlando. What does it matter? So my place smells a little funny. After all, I just moved in.”

I really shouldn’t have said that because now, blu blushing a bright red.

“I am so sorry…I can’t believe I was just sniffing around your place like some kind of dog…oh my god…this is embarrassing…”

Save it, Viggo, save it!

“I…I like dogs.”

Shit.

~~~

Dinner doesn’t go badly after that uneventful start with the sniffing around. And while he was pouring the wine, I cunningly slipped out to ‘fetch some candles’…which is Viggo-code for ‘ the the stupid cushion under my bed with the other incriminating evidence’.

I asked him about his beret and he convinced me wear it. He questioned me on my wacky CDs and I made him listen to them. I was nosey about his family and he impersonated them for me. He was sceptical about my chicken and I made him eat both drumsticks (he ended up enjoying it immensely and started on the breast).

It’s hard to find someone you just “click” with but I discovered it with Orlando. We were still talking and now that there was no more evidence of the “Ryan Incident”, I was at ease once more and chatted easily with my brilliant god about anything that crossed my miHe iHe is a genuinely friendly aweetweet young man; one that makes you want to cuddle him and feed him sugar.

Two subjects I couldn’t bring myself to mention were his situation with the crutch, and his relationship with Mr Leopard-man. Having been on enough dates in my youth, I can read the signs on this one that insinuate a sure nd dnd date. Score one for the Eagle-man…take that, Bana-boy!

Things don’t go downhill again until we’re standing in the living room and he’s about to leave. My pretty god reaches up to reclaim his beret with one hand, the other holding tightly onto his crutch. Reluctant to let him just have it, I playfully pull back so he’s suddenly leaning into me. I wonder if that’s a great idea, because now, his hand is tangled in my hair and we’re standing chest-to-chest, neither of us daring to move, let alone say anything.

There is the soft whooshing of our breathing which is growing heavier until I see Orlando nervously bit on his lip again. That’s it – restraint, you’re going straight out my gorgeous floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

I tug him flush against me and moving slowly so he has time to back away, I nudge his nose with mine. I hear a quiet chuckle before I finally manage to claim those wine-tainted lips. He is sweet…but there is also the hint of the wine we shared earlier. I pull away slowly to gauge his reaction, but all I receive is sloe-eyed fluttering. He looks dazedly back at me.

Unable to resist, I nudge him gently with nose again, but this time, dare to probe into his mouth. He is relaxed and welcoming, drawing me in with him and I can feel his other hand letting go of his crutch to wrap around my shoulder to keep himself upright. I don’t mind at all. He can squash me flat if he wants, but he can’t take away the tender caresses of his tongue. To help support him better, I twine my arms around his waist and pull him up against me so he’s depending on me to keep him balanced. Sure, I am doing it to help his balance. Right Viggo, you’re so selfless, you gain nothing by it.

I wish this moment would last forever, him wanting me and me wanting him…and in this moment, the moment of our first kiss(es), there was no tht oft of past injuries, divorces, Mr-Leopards and Ryans.

Only the comforting warmth of perfection finally within my reach.

TBC...

Hey Amy! How'd this one go? You still enjoying it? Thanks for your reviews!

Nina, I have to say, I am so flattered you liked reading . Th. There might be more French in the future for Viggo and Orlando, after all, they both speak it. Although I don't want to guess Orli's reaction when he finds out that Viggo had understood him in the playground!! =)
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Flying With Eagles