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Mine	By : Aireroswen Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 7186 -:- 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-Mine
- 2-Part Two
- 1
- 2
Sorry it took so long, but here is the last part. Hope you enjoy!!! And thank you all for your wonderful reviews! They mean a lot to me and appreciate the support and encouragement! :)

Enjoy!

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Viggo tightened his grip and laughed, a short, angry sound that could have almost been a sob, his lips once again pressed to Orlando’s ear. “So now you know how it feels, Orlando… now you know.”

Orlando let out a strangled cry when he didn't expect the sudden jolt of pain against his groin, as Viggo's hand left his throat came down and grasped his most private part and began fondling him. The young actor bucked his hips in protest to the revolting action, but that only caused him to press against the hard erection behind him and receive a low, guttural moan from Viggo.

"Viggo, stop-"

Another cry rose out of his throat while the hand continued to knead him, without the hint of remorse and tender care that a lover would provide. The older man's movements were harsh, demanding and very painful. Orlando wanted it to stop, he was desperate and pleaded with the me one once thought of as a friend, but his words fell on deaf ears. All he was given was a hard thrust from behind and Viggo cupped him and stroked him through the fabric of his jeans again, as though he wanted Orlando aroused by thrtuortuous treatment. He was anything but.

"Viggo, please don't do this! Please!"

Orlando clenched his eyes shut and he gasped slightly when Viggo abruptly released him, only to surprise the young Brit and turn him around to force his back against the thick glass wall that separated the bedroom from the rest of the flat. Viggo pinned his ahighhigh above his head and pressed his arousal firmly against Orlando's pelvis. A wave of nausea assaulted him and he tried to turn his head away to keep from seeing the terrifying hunger that burned in Viggo's blue gaze but he had little time to move when fevered lips captured his own in a bruising kiss.

The kiss itself was brutal and painful as Viggo crushed Orlando's lips with a force borne out of wild need. Orlando fought against him, tried to push him away with his lower body and legs, but Viggo revealed more strength than he let on. The only other way the young actor was able to defend himself was by biting the older man's tongue before he was able to slip it into Orlando's mouth. Viggo grunted from the unexpected pain and the metallic tang of blood in his mouth caused Orlando to gag, but his tormentor refused to let up his assault. Viggo deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue to explore every contour of Orlando's mouth, while he spread the younger man's legs apart with a knee and rubbed briskly against his groin.

"God, I need you," Viggo's deep voice rumbled out of his chest and vibrated against Orlando's ear. A wet tongue darted out and slithered across an earlobe before Viggo sucked on it and lightly nibbled, hoping to get the reaction he desired to hear from Orlando. No such sound came from the younger man, his head turned away and his eyes closed tightly against the nightmare that attacked him.

"I wish you would understand…"

Orlando jerked his face away when Viggo's lips began a trail down his neck to the hollow of his throat. The petal soft kisses sent shivers of revulsion up his spine, and he shuddered. "I can't. You expect me to accept this. I just can't-" He inhaled sharply and he squeezed his eyes tighter as Viggo bit the skin stretched over his collarbone, leaving a bloody mark. "It's wrong!"

Viggo suddenly and unexpectedly stepped away, allowing Orlando's arms to drop to his side. He remained there, his back pressed to the wall panting and trembling. His wide eyes, brimming with tears, he watched as Viggo fought his own raging battle from deep within. The older man's face contorted in a myriad of emotions from anger to regret to fear and confusion. As much as Orlando wanted to understand what exactly drove Viggo to such desperation, he was afraid to know. Afraid to delve that deep into a mind he thought he once knew, but only to find out that he had been deceived, and for how long?

Orlando was in shock, but most of all in denial. He didn't want to believe that he just tasted real betrayal, where trust was most importantly involved. Who was the man standing before him, now? Was it really Viggo? Or some sick and twisted figment of Orlando's imagination that only surfaced where too much k wak was involved? It was that unreal to Orlando, he actually felt that he was dreaming, thrust into an illusion that he desperately wanted to push past the void and face reality. But reality was facing him, had touched him in places that he had never dreamed of a man touching before. It was a sickening thought, and Orlando had to fight back the tears of his astonishment.

"Viggo, please leave. Leave before you do something you will regret…"

Viggo deeply frowned and he furrowed his brows in deep reflection. "Regret?"

Tension constricted Orlando's body like a taut cord and he placed more distance between him and Viggo by scooting to the right, toward the kitchen. He made his movements discreet enough in order not to startle Viggo into action. His fists clenched tightly, he was willing was to defend himself if Viggo decided to lunge for him again. Though Orlando was afraid, he still refused to give up hope that Viggo could be reached behind the façade of his obsession.

"Listen to me, Vig. Remember when Ian told us that story about his former lover? The one that was raped?"

Viggo curtly nodded.

"Remember how much suffering he lived after that?"

Another nod and light lashes fluttered as Viggo blinked hard.

Orlando reached the long counter and his hands grasped the small cutting knife that was left on the granite surface, hiding it behind his back. He hoped Viggo didn't notice, as he continued to reason with the older man, "I love you, mate. You know that. But please don't hurt our friendship like this. Think about what you're doing."

"I have thought about it, Orlando," Viggo said after a pregnant pause, "but it's killing me inside. I have to have you. This need inside of me is burning… it hurts so much."

Orlando's hand instinctively tightened around the handle of the knife until he felt the pressure of constriction, he was so afraid of what to expect. "Why? Why ruin a friendship over your selfish ambitions?"

Viggo took a threatening step forward and he said in a low, animalistic tone, "Drop the knife, Orlando."

The younger man was startled by the brash command and only shook his head as he moved farther away from Viggo, his movements taking him closer to the service elevator. He kept the knife in his hand but held it in front of him, pointing it at his friend. Viggo followed him, but kept his distance and a slow pace. It was intimidating, revealing that he was in no hurry to lunge for Orlando again.

"You'll go to jail, Vig. Have you thought about that?" Orlando's voice was dripping with desperation. He tried everything he could think of to reach Viggo and prevent from anything happening to himself.

"I'll get out eventually," answered Viggo simply.

"You can't do this, Vig. Think about what you're doing!"

"You keep saying that, Orlando, but you don't realize how much thinking I have done. I've had four years to think about this moment, the pros and cons. And guess what, fuck logic. I want you and I will have you one way or the other."

Orlando was almost at the elevator; he could taste the sweet air of safety just beyond the service door. But it was the task of lifting the steel door, getting inside and closing it again in time before Viggo was able to get near and overpower him. Orlando wasn't confident enough and he realized the only way out of this predicament was injuring Viggo enough to where it delayed his movements. He considered every possible route, and although he had agility where Viggo had strength he wasn't sure of the outcome. He was afraid that he wouldn't be able to overpower Viggo with a small kitchen knife without himself getting injured in the process.

Viggo, however wasn't about to give Orlando the chance to think too much on a plan to get away from him and he lunged for the young man. He didn't have the element of surprise he was hoping for, but he was fast enough to dodge a swipe of Orlando's arm that held the knife. The swing was aimed for Viggo's midsection, but somehow caught his right forearm instead. He hissed through the pain from the minor cut, but it wasn't able to deter him from his goal. He lunged for Orlando again, and this time was able to knock him back against the steel door of the elevator.

With both hands Viggo kept the knife from going through his left shoulder, while Orlando held out his own battle against the older man's strength to drive it home. A cry of desperation passed Orlando's lips as Viggo was able to steer the blade away from his body, and banged the young man's clenched hand against the wall in order to relieve the knife from his grip. It clattered to the floor, and Viggo kicked it clear across the room out of reach.

A low guttural growl emanated from deep within Orlando as he pushed hard against Viggo with all of his strength, which caused the older man and himself to stumble away from the wall and toward the sofa. Viggo instinctively grabbed Orlando's wrists, and allowed the momentum to topple him over the sidearm of the couch, bringing Orlando with him. The force of their fall caused the piece of furniture to move a few inches across the hardwood flooring and the vase on the other side crashed to the floor, shattering into hundreds of tiny shards.

The two grown men wrestled, with Viggo keeping his hold on Orlando's wrists and the younger man desperate to free himself from the trap. He yanked back and writhed his body in various angles, which only resulted in them fallbetwbetween the sofa and coffee table. Orlando landed on the bottom and his head impacted the floor with a loud and painful thud. He cried out sharply from the pain that slammed against his skull, causing his vision to dance. Orlando was still aware of his surroundings and the situation he was unwillingly thrust in, but with the agony that spread like wildfire throughout his brain he only groaned when calloused hands touched the side of his face. He was forced to look up into the eyes of his friend, tears brimming the corners of his heavy lids and he slowly blinked only to make his vision blurry.

"Viggo-" he hoarsely whispered, still determined to plea with the older man to let him go. However, there was no recollection in Viggo's eyes, only the insistent fire that fueled his obsession. He felt Viggo's fingers rake through his hair only for them to stop at the back of his head where a rather large pump was beginning to form. "Viggo, listen to me-"

Suddenly Orlando's world tumbled and crashed into wave after wave of pain as Viggo rammed his head against the floor repeatedly in order to subdue him. He was unable to stop it, as his body grew unresponsive to the demands to fight or get away that his mind screamed at him, and his eyes rolled back into his head.

Darkness descended and Orlando welcomed the painless bliss that would accompany it, but no such ease was given and just before he was able to drift away and lose all of his senses he felt his arms being lifted from the floor. Agony erupted inside of his skull at the rough handling, as he was dragged across the living area and groaned, the low rumble escaping his parted lips. He blinked lethargically to clear his vision, but all that greeted him was an array of distorted shapes and colors, much like what his painting looked like when he poured the thinner down the canvas.

Orlando was barely aware of much of anything. His senses were falling apart, his vision blurred and hearing dulled. As much as he wanted to fight the numbness that steadily crept over his body, it was the one fight he wasn't strong enough to win. He felt, but couldn't move. The limbs sprawled at his side were deadweights, causing more grief to terrorize his mind. He wanted to cry out for help, but he wasn't sure how much good that would've done when there was no one in the vicinity to hear his distressed pleas. It was one of the disadvaes oes of living in an old warehouse, alone. He had cherished the privacy, but now he regretted his foolish decision.

There was humming that sounded from all directions, it seemed, and Orlando's head lolled to the side as a moan passed his lax lips. The sudden noise penetrated his ears, reverberated inside of his skull and made the pain much more intense. It was unbearable and he cringed, his entire being desperate to escape the profuse torture driving him mad. The lilting sound moved closer, and Orlando flinched when he felt hot breath brush across his skin, over the slope of his ear. Viggo's hands were on him again, grasping his shoulders all but gently and he rolled Orlando over onto his stomach. Another anguished moan was the only response Orlando was able to give, as he was helpless to stop Viggo from touching him, hurting him all over again.

With his left cheek pressed firmly against the hardwood floor, Orlando felt the sticky warmth of something wet on his skin, and he realized it was his own blood. He blinked again, his long lashes dragging slowly across the surface of the floor, the thick crimson tainting the dark hairs along the way. It was the sensation of his own blood touching his cheek that drove Orlando into hysterics, and he fought agt tht the lethargy keeping him immobile. He tried to pull his arms up from his side, but he wasn't given the chance when he felt Viggo grab him by the wrists and wrench them behind his back. Something thick and cold, not like rope was tightly wound around his wrists until they were secured to the point of cutting off circulation.

Orlando groaned from the discomfort, and tried to roll away from the offending hands but Viggo wasn't deterred by his weak attempts to escape the inevitable. Once his hands were bound to where he wasn't able to reach the knots even if he had the strength to do so, Orlando was lifted from the floor and hoisted over Viggo's shoulder. The motion pitched Orlando's world into a morbid dance of vertigo that left him breathless, and he closed his eyes against the wave of nausea that crashed into him. The bile threatened to spill forth from the disjointed movements and then from the sudden feeling that he was falling, only to land in a boneless heap on the mattress of his bed. Orlando gagged and rolled over to empty the contents of his stomach, for he was unable to hold it back any longer. He painfully wretched until there was nothing left, but the muscles in his stomach just kept contracting and forced him to dry heave; a cold sweat broke out on his body and he shivered from the after effects.

A sob escaped his quivering lips; the pain that coursed throughout his body was too much for him to bear. He couldn't fight the nausea that continued to wash over him, and it left him completely helpless along with his hands bound behind him. Now more than ever he wanted to close his eyes and drift into the blissful sensation of sleep where no anguish was allowed to follow him into the dark. It was a comforting thought, but the yearning for such a reprieve was brutally shattered at the fevered touch of Viggo's hands on his face. His cheek was turned away from the plush pillow that was beneath him only seconds earlier, and he blinked his eyes open to find Viggo's leering face above him.

"Please-"

"Shhh," Viggo soothed, while he brushed away sweat soaked strands of hair away from Orlando's brow, "It's all for your own good."

Orlando couldn't comprehend the meaning behind those words, and his muddled mind was sent into a whirl of confusion; his brow furrowed. "W-what?"

"Orlando. Dear sweet Orlando. Don't you get it? I don't like to share. You are not some whore that everyone is allowed to fuck and admire. I won't allow it, anymore."

"Viggo," Orlando paused and swallowed thickly, the taste of bile still fresh at the back of his throat, "you can't do this. Please let me go."

"Sorry, but I can't do that," Viggo said mournfully as he released Orlando's face, and his hands trailed lower to grasp lean hips. He pulled the young man farther down the bed to where his legs weret ant and his feet touched the floor beneath, and without a moment's hesitation Viggo began to unbuckle Orlando's belt.

Orlando struggled anew, the desperation to get away feeding his adrenaline and he kicked and thrashed about. He moved his body around, as he tried to roll over and away from Viggo, causing the older man to tangle his hand in Orlando's curls, and he yanked back harshly in order to stop him. Orlando gasped from the sudden discomfort, but it barely discouraged his fight to escape. He bucked away from Viggo, as the older man resumed his task at trying to relieve Orlando of his jeans and boxers. Orlando kicked again, and was satisfied when he finally hit a solid target, which sent Viggo reeling from the force of the kick. He stumbled back only a few steps, but it was enough for Orlando to roll off the bed and onto his knees. Without the use of his arms, his balance was astray, but the young actor refused to give up even if he didn't have a firm plan set in his mind on how he was going to escape bound and disoriented.

He scrambled to his feet and made another attempt for the service elevator, but he was surprised when he suddenly found himself falling from the forceful kick to his legs though he expected Viggo to catch up before hope was allowed to shine. He came crashing to the hardwood floor and his right side received the brunt of it, including his cheek, without the use of his arms to break his fall. He gasped in air, unable to voice his pain with a cry, as his lungs were starved of precious oxygen.

For the second time that evening Orlando was rendered senseless and completely helpless to stop Viggo from tormenting him so viciously. His mind screamed for his limbs to react, but there was nothing but pitiful moans that escaped his lips, which bled profusely from a split when he had fallen. Even when he was forced on his knees and bent over the edge of the mattress, Orlando couldn't find the strength that coursed throughout his being only moments before. It had vanished along with his hope that he was in some sick, twisted dream that continued to play out though he was desperate to escape. He wanted to believe that he had drunk too much, the whiskey using his mind as a playground for these horrifying images and feelings. But such a notion was all too easy.

Nothing was hardly ever that easy for Orlando Bloom.

Viggo's hot breath prickling the fine hairs along the nape of Orlando's neck knocked him back into reality, and he struggled vainly under the brutal hold that the older man had on him. With one hand pinning him down by his neck and the other fumbling for the button and fly of his jeans, and Viggo's heavy weight pressed up against his backside from behind. It was a position that Orlando feared and loathed, for it made him realize how much more helpless he was in this fight for dominance, which Viggo was ultimately winning.

"You just don't get it do you?" Viggo demanded breathlessly, and his hand around Orlando's neck tightened as he pushed the younger man's head and upper body further down against the mattress.

Orlando closed his eyes, as his body trembled uncontrollably from the combined terror and rage coursing throughout him. He still couldn't fathom that it was Viggo, his best friend, the man he respected and admired for all those years while filming was the same man that was about to rape him. He wanted to understand what drove the older man to commit such malevolence without a hint of remorse for those he was abusing. It hurt to have a man that he had once trusted violating him in such a way.

"You always have to fight back. Always."

"You sick fuck! Get off me!"

Viggo leaned forward and took Orlando's upturned earlobe into his mouth, sucking on it while he pulled the young actor's jeans and boxers down to his knees. Orlando cried out his fury and bucked away with strength he was surprised he possessed after all of the abuse inflicted to his head. It barely hindered Viggo's determination to control Orlando, however and he placed much of his weight against the younger man's bare backside. Orlando gasped as he realized that Viggo, in the midst of his struggles, was able to strip off his own jeans and underwear and had his hard arousal pressed up to the cleft of Orlando's cheeks.

"No! NO!!" Orlando screamed repeatedly, the loud cries coming out strangled and hoarse from the tears that suddenly spilled forth.

As much as he was given a warning of what was to come, he was not prepared for the onslaught of pain that seemed to cleave its way through the very core of his being, tearing him apart. The scorching fire ignited at penetration, but continued its course and spread through his body and reverberated off the barren walls of his apartment, drowning out Viggo's whimpers and moans as he sought his pleasure deep inside of Orlando. Vainly, Orlando pushed forward to escape the torture, but he was only met with the edge of his bed, which trapped him inevitably and he was forced to ride the waves of agony.

Fortunately, Viggo's climax had come quickly, for the wait and need for his release was trapped within him for so long. His back arched and his mouth opened in a silent scream, as he spilled his seed inside of Orlando. With a shudder of content, Viggo pulled out of him leaving him panting and trembling in his kneeled position by the bed. Tears continued their trek down his face, and he turned his face into the comforter to hide his misery and to escape the horrors of his ever-darkening world. Luckily, the pain in his backside had turned into a dull ache, but it was still an agonizing reminder of the violation Viggo had brought upon him. It was something Orlando knew he would never forget, nor would he ever forgive Viggo for the brutal betrayal.

"Bastard," he choked out between the sobs that attacked his body, "Fucking bastard."

He was startled when Viggo tangled his hand in Orlando's hair and pulled back so that the young man was forced to bend his neck at an uncomfortable angle in order to look at Viggo and the haunting realization that the older man was crying. Orlando was surprised, and he gaped.

Viggo leaned forward to capture Orlando's lips in a kiss, a kiss that was completely different from those that had preceded the malicious rape. It was a touch meant for a lover, but Orlando knew it was anything but. Viggo was insane; he knew no meaning of loyalty.

The older man licked up the blood that began to dry on the bruised flesh beneath his lips, and smiled tenderly when he pulled away. Orlando cringed out of revulsion, not only from the act but also by the way Viggo was behaving. It was almost as if he imagined Orlando giving in to the abuse willingly. It was an absurd thought, but Orlando wouldn't have been surprised if it was true. Viggo had not only violated Orlando in the worst of ways, but stolen his trust. A bond of friendship was indefinitely broken because of his selfish obsession.

"I hope one day you'll forgive me," Viggo whispered, his callused fingertips brushing invisible marks along Orlando's high cheekbone and down the slope of his nose. He bent down and kissed Orlando again while he untied Orlando's hands, his salty tears blending in with the younger man's.

Without another woriggoiggo left the flat. Stunned and horrified by what had just occurred, Orlando buried his face in the comforter and wept. For the first time in his life he felt dirty, weak and so very alone.

Fin
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