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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
- 17
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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: The Emotional Rollercoaster

Chapter 17

When I finally wake up, Orlando is no longer by my side. Sleep is still tugging insistently at me, but I resist. Can’t sleep now, I want to see how Orlando is feeling.

Heaving myself off the couch, I let out a low groan. That position is not good for an old man fast reaching fifty.

“Are you okaiggoiggo?”

My god appears from the kitchen cradling a steaming cup of something.

“I should be asking you that.”

He smiles self-consciously and shrugs.

“I was just tired. I am fine now.”

Ha. Tired. And my son isn’t Henry and I am not horny.

Admittedly, he’s not so pale now, and is standing quite well by himself. But I still wouldn’t believe everything he says about his health. He notices I am sceptical and obviously not buying his white lie, so he pouts prettily at me.

“Don’t get all fussy again! I’ve called Eric. He’s coming up to take me home.”

Oh dear god. Mr Leopard-man himself is going to be here. In my apartment. This place is a mess! I should get Orlando sitting down first, so he’s not all wobbly when his keeper gets here, and –

A warm hand is gently squeezing my shoulder and Orlando leans down to kiss my cheek. I hadn’t even noticed he had walked over.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about Eric. He’s a total sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? Yeah, if a sweetheart has three inch long incisors, claws and hisses at you for no good reason than he’s feeling sadistic.

“I am not worried.”

“Sure you’re not. I just called him. He’ll be here in two minutes.”

Two minutes?? Before I even recognise what I am doing, my hands are automatically fluffing cushions and analysing the living room with a critical “domestic eye”. Maybe straightening some of the photos on the coffee table would make this place look neater.

“Viggo! Relax!”

I guess I am freaking out. Okay. Calm.

Until the doorbell rings.

“What? He’s here already? You said two minutes!”

I don’t know what is going on, but Orlando pushes me to sit back down.

“I’ll get the door. You stay and don’t look so frightened! He can smell fear, you know.”

He’s winking saucily back at me, but that joke is entirely inappropriate. I am going to get bitten by our feline-boy.

~~~

From my position the couch, I can’t hear them very clearly, but I see the Leopard-man hug my god the second he’s into the apartment. Those dark eyes are looking for me with murder gleaming in them.

I find myself unable to move, still sitting in an unusually prim position, back ramrod straight with both feet planted on the floor – all the better to run away if heidesides to pounce.

The pair is coming towards me now, Evil-feline’s arm around Orlando’s waist and they’re leaning against each other. They might be headed for me, but neither are looking at me. Bana’s focusing purely on the boy in his arms and asking if he’s still feeling dizzy, and if he needs to sit down or drink some hot chocolate.

Never thought I’d live to see the day Leopard-man got paternal and protective, but lo and behold, Armageddon is fastr approaching.

Orlando looks like he’s had this talk a million times before and is dodging the questions thrown at him with ease, while rolling his eyes at me playfully.

Just seeing the two of them together, so comfortable in each other’s space and touch. They really do belong together – they look so much alike. The same gorgeous dark eyes and beautiful curls…and I wouldn’t believe this if I weren’t seeing it myself, but there in front of me is another –

“Johnson!”

What a way to grab attention. But hey, at least I know that they have the same shocked/confused look too. Damn, my god is perfect…too bad he’s attached to another figure of perfection at the moment.

“Viggo? What…?”

And there it is – angry snarling Leopard-man just as I had expected from the beginning.

“What have you done to him? Why is he even here with you alone? And where is Kurt?”

The last question was thrown at Orlando, since I obviously have no idea who Kurt is.

“Who is Kurt, Orlando?”

Orlando is biting his lip and looking embarrassed, all the while trying to pull away from his keeper who still has him in a protective embrace.

“Orlando…where is Kurt?”

The grip on my god appears to be tightening and Orlando is shaking his head. I am not going to sit by and watch this abuse.

“Hey!” I declare angrily, “You can’t treat him like that!”

Smart move, Viggo. Now the anger is directed at you. Smart.

“You,” Now there is the finger pointing, but at least he’s let go of Orlando to do that, and that’s what matters, “have no say in this. You don’t even know the whole story.”

“No? Then tell it to me.”

“Viggo – “ Orlandoes tes to talk, but is cut off by a wave of my hand.

“This is between me and Leop- I mean, Eric.”

“Mr Bana,” is snarled back.

“Whatever. You just come barging into my house, shout at me and physically harm my…” Now is evidently not the time to reveal that Orlando and I are semi-on/off-dating, so I’ll have to improvise, “my…friend.”

What an anti-climax. My ‘friend’…even my god looks surprised by that.

“It has everything to do with me.”

Finally, I may be able to figure something out. Just get the ball rolling…

“Why does it have anything to do with you? My house, my…’friend’.”

Come on, come on, take the bait, little kitty…come on…

“I am his – ”

Leopard-man is sudden cut off by Orlando shoving angrily at him and almost losing his balance. I had forgotten that Orlando was still unsteady on his feet and needed his crutch.

“Stop it! Both of you! I am a grown man! I can decide what I want to do, and when I want to do it. I can not believe you two think you have the right to ‘fight’ over me like hormonal dogs. Lay off! This is my life – don’t you think I have a say in this?”

My poor abused god is still rubbing at his arm where the evil bastard had been squeezing him, and he’s breathing heavily, standing alone now…and the anger is suddenly fading to tears. Talk about an emotional rollercoaster. I don’t think I could stand it if he cried, and I am reaching for him, pulling him against me even though I am having to dodge the daggers Leopard-man’s eyes are throwing at me.

“Shh, it’s okay…it’s okay…”

Orlando is sniffing softly against my neck and I am almost sure he’s crying. Time to throw those daggers back at Leopard-man.

“Look what you did to him.”

Leopard-man has the decency to look shocked.

“ME? You think I did this? You’re the one who caused all this! This wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you!”

To a great extent, I have to agree with him I a I am not going to admit that.

“You’re hurting him. Stop shouting.”

For some reason, that seems to hit home and I have the pleasure of watching him recoil. He’s recovering quickly though and reaches out a hand to run through Orlando’s curls and I don’t stop him.

“Orli…hey, I am sorry…look, there’s no more arguing…no one’s shouting at you…Orli…It’s me, Eric…not Hristo’s gone now…he’s not coming back…”

At the mention of the last name, Orlando begins shaking his head and clinging tighter. Who is Hristo? What is going on here? I have no clue, but I think things will improve if Leopard-man got out of my place and left me to take care of my god.

“I think you should leave, Mr Bana.”

There is no reaction from either of them to my comment, but I can feel Orlando holding his breath.

Leopard-man closes his eyes for a moment and stills the hand brushing my god’s hair.

“Maybe that will help. Just…don’t leave himne, ne, Viggo. I’ll send Kurt up in an hour, let him look at Orlando.”

Ha. I am now promoted to ‘o’ ao’ and not Mr Mortensen. I must have earned some kind of points just then, for what? I don’t know.

After a lingering kiss to Orlando’s head of curls, Leopard-man backs away slowly towards the door. He appears to be in pain, leaving his…friend/boyfriend/brother/son in my care, and can’t seem to thimshimself away. I can sympathise with him, I wouldn’t be able to leave this perfect being crying either…which is why I am still here holding him.

“I’ll look after him. Don’t worry, Eric.”

There is one more smirk thrown at me before the door clicks shut behind him.

“It’s Mr. Bana.”

Silence now, but all the questions are rushing through my head. And why is evil Leopard-man suddenly trusting me with his Orlando now? That’s a twist I wasn’t expecting.

It seems like the more I get to know Orlando, the more confusing he is. He’s much more complex than I first expected and I don’t know if I have what it takes to stay with someone like him. Perfect, yes…but so complicated…and from what I’ve seen today, he’s been hurt. I’ll need to be patient and understanding. But enough of this. I have a god to tend to first.

I untangle a reluctant Orlando from me and deposit him carefully on the couch, his crutch placed arms reach away if he should need it. His dark eyes are sad and they follow me as I putter around arranging cushions comfortably under him for his poor back and legs. I might as well take Leopard-man’s advice and make him some hot chocolate.

After all, we have a long talk to look forward to – impotency…his relationship with Eric…Hristo, who I gather used to abuse him…the ‘tirednessom eom earlier…and who the hell is Kurt sent up by Leopard-man??

I make him hot chocolate in my favourite teddy bear mug and drop in a few extra marshmallows as an after thought.

I have a feeling my poor god is going to need it in the next hour.

TBC...
- 17
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- 19
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Flying With Eagles