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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
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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: Hot Chocolate in the Teddy Mug

Chapter 18

Orlando was still huddled into the sofa, looking small and afraid. It really breaks my heart to see him like that, and I hand him the teddy mug.

The little effort I made was worth it because he gives me a sweet little smile, wrapping both slender hands around the mug as if for warmth.

“I get your teddy mug this time.”

I hadn’t realised he knew it was my favourite, but come to think of it, I did use that cup a lot while he was over.

“Just thought you might need it this time.”

A shy glance at me, and then he’s sipping at the hot chocolate. Even though he’s a grown man and the cup is obviously blistering, I still feel the need to remind him not to drink the boiling liquid too quickly. Must remind myself to be careful of myself around him, otherwise I’ll end up being over protective.

“I get extra marshmallows too. Is something bad going to happen in the next few minutes?”

How can he be so innocent? I would love nothing more than to stroke his hair, let him drink his hot chocolate and lull him to sleep, but that’s not going to happen. We need to have this talk, and it had better be sooner than later.

“Orlando, you know we need to talk…”

A gentle sigh is all I receive in response, but it’s good enough. I slide onto the couch beside him, but leaving a clear separation between us. I am not going to let myself get distracted by his warmth or the soft half-smile he’s directing at me. Nope. I am entirely unaffected. Yep, maybe if I keep repeg itg it, it’ll come true.

“Viggo…before we start, can I…ask a favour?”

He could ask me for anything, he should know that.

“Of course…”

“Could you…could you please…” the nose is wrinkling again and I know he’s struggling to keep his tears in, “…please…”

I can’t hear his request and lean closer, still carefully keeping my distance though. I can’t resist him if he’s touching me and upset. Damn, this is hard.

“What, Orlando?”

“I want…want you to kiss me like you mean it…and say once more that you like me…”

What is going on? Is he leaving me?

He’s sniffling now and rubbing at his nose with a sleeve, but still pleading,

“Before…before you go.”

Before I go? Go where? Where am I going?

“I don’t understand, muffin, what do you want – ”

My words are cut off as my god throws himself into my arms and I barely manage to catch him before his mouth is on mine and we’re kissing desperately. Despite the fervour, I try to keep an eye on the mug Orlando is still clutching – I wouldn’t want that to pour on either of us, but he’s definitely doing his best to distract me. Better remove that hot cup out of danger’s way.

I pull away from Orlando for a second to try and get the cup away from him, but he’s holding on tightly to it.

“Orlando?”

“Could I…keep this mug? The teddy will remind me of you. So I’ll see it whenever I drink hot chocolate and remember you…”

Okay. Enough is enough. WHAT is he talking about?

“Orlando! Calm down and tell me what’s going on!”

The sharp tone I just took was obviously a bad move as Orlando backs away from me, clinging to the cup. Shit. He’s supposed to feel safe with me, not scared, and I definitely should not have shouted.

“Orlando…muffin, come here…I am not going to hurt you…”

Can’t believe I am imitating Leopard-man, but his words from earlier appear to calm my nervous and jumpy boy. Slowly, I manage to coax him against my side, though he’s not given up hold of the mug.

“Orlando…nothing is going to happen. We’re just having a little talk. Just a talk…noone is leaving anybody…”

“You’re going to leave me…” I hear him mutter.

Finally. Maybe this time he’s calm enough to answer me.

“Why do you say that, muffin?”

“You will.” He nods decisively. “They all do. But I like you…a lot…and don’t want you to leave.”

“Then I am not leaving. And in case you haven’t realised, I like you too…a lot.”

My mimicking him rewarded me with a snort of self-deprecating laughter, and then, a hopeful gaze is sent up at me – it’s enough to drive anyone insane. Who in their right mind could leave him? I know I can’t. Then and again, I’ve always questioned my own sanity.

I nuzzle playfully at Johnson and he chuckle/giggles, lifting his mug, I mean, my mug, to his lips for another sip. I wish I could sip on his lips. There is the sweetness of the hot chocolate on them…I could taste it earlier on him in the frantic kisses we shared. I really did add too many marshmallows; I am surprised his drink hasn’t solidified with the amount of sugar in it. But underlying the cloyingly sweet taste of sugar, is the true honey-sweetness of a god. Heaven on the senses.

Enough worshipping. I can’t keep letting myself get distracted.

“Orlando…our talk.”

The dismayed look almost sways me, but I press on, gently prodding.

“Can you tell me about…Kurt?”

A shake of the head.

“Eric?”

There is a thoughtful look before another head shake. Not many options left.

Impotency or Hristo? I don’t care if we can’t ever have sex, it’s not that important to me …but I need to know about Hristo, the man who obviously upsets my god. If we want to stay together, this can not be kept a secret.

“That leaves only one – Hristo.”

A shudder against me as my prince shakes his head vehemently. I am sighing deeply before I even realise it. I had promised myself to be patient, but…

I am sure Orlando senses my disappointment and frustration because he looks defiantly up at me.

“Fine. I’ll tell you. But if you leave me – ”

No. I am not going to listen to him beating himself up. I am not leaving him, no matter what he’ll tell me in the next ten minutes. Why can’t he see that?

Finally, I capture his chocolate-sweetened lips with my own to stop the torrent flow of words. The frenzied need is firmly back in place once again, and I can do nothing but be swept away by it. My god has evidently been disappointed too many times in his young life and is used to rejection. He’ll need patience and constant reassurance.

But I need to stand firm.

“Muffin, I know it’s hard…but you need to tell me about Hristo if we want to continue this relationship…”

I wonder if this is seen as blackmail threatening to end our relationship…but it works, although I feel horrible for forcing an innocent and hurting young man into talking about something he evidently does not want to think about.

He is brave though, as I knew he would be and with a grip on my hand and his head burrowed against me, starts speaking slowly.

TBC...
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Flying With Eagles