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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.

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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 Bulgarian Christopher from Hell

Chapter 20

Nervousness and a little apprehension is written on Orlando’s beautiful face.

“Viggo…I don’t want you to judge – ” he raises a hand to stop the protest I am about to make.

“Shh…let me talk. Some bad things have happened to me before, and I sort of feel the need to tell it to you, not only because I want you to understand me better – which is a big part of this, believe me,” he adds quickly, “but…so you have a chance to leave now knowing what you’re in for, before you feel ‘committed’ to me in any way.”

He has to be kidding me.

“I am not leaving. I told you that, trust me, Orlando. Help me to understand,” I tell him firmly.

“Okay…well, nothing left to do now, but tell you.”

He’s slightly stalling, but I’ll give that to him, the poor boy needs a second to gather his thoughts.

“The se-sex thing…” he sighs deeply and looks into his lap, fiddling with his yellow trucker cap in his lap. Where had that come from? He must have taken it off when he came in and left it by the couch. I find myself mesmerised by the way his long fingers are squashing at the beak of the cap, but I don’t think he notices what he’s doing.

“…I can only tell you that it’s the first and last time I have had sex with a female, and I learnt at a terrible price that I am not into the exhibitionist/voyeuristic scene.”

Though I had been expecting something bad, this is worse than I had anticipated. Had his “friends” sat around and watched his first time? I will dig them up and kill them, the bastards…

My poor prince. Beaten, ‘dishonoured’, bullied, maybe even raped…but never defeated. My respect for him grows.

“How does this lead to Hristo, muffin?”

A shiver at the name, then back to the fidgeting.

“I met him when I was little older, probably around nineteen? He was an older guy, and someone who…knew what he was doing. I think he was most attracted to my body and looks. Originally from Bulgaria, ‘Hristo’ is their equivalent of our ‘Christopher’. He was tall, very good looking and slender, though he possessed a very toned body made fit through hours of gym. Dark hair, so dark it could appear blue in the sunlight although matched with the lightest eyes I’ve ever seen. I won’t ever forget that gorgeous unique shade of blue…”

Why should I be jealous of this man whom Orlando clearly fears? I don’t know. But a part of me is being torn apart hearing my god singing his praises.

“…he’s truly a study of extremes. And that reflects in his personality too…”

A thoughtful silence before I poke at him.

“In what way?”

“He was the first man to ever tell me, he thought I was very average looking and…not very special.”

Maybe those eyes in a ‘gorgeous unique shade of blue’ rendered the bastard blind.

“…what? You’re stunning!”

Orlando rolls his eyes and laughs.

“Viggo…you’re biased.”

“No, it’s the truth. You’re built like a classical greek god! How can you not see that?”

Ahh, the blush again. I can’t resist running a finger across the flushed skin and notice as it gets even redder. I guess I’ll need to compliment him more, if his self-esteem is having doubts. I am going to convince him he’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. My beautiful greek god…

“Umm, right. So, I thought he was the most amazing, sexy man in the world, and because he didn’t find me attractive…I was even more drawn to him. Does that make sense?”

Err, not really. My confusion must have shown somehow because he elaborates.

“All my life, people have treated me as…a greek god, as you said, since I look the way I do. But finally, here is a man who doesn’t find me appealing…in a twisted way, I couldn’t help being interested in being the one to pursue for once. To think back on it now, Hristo must have known all along what he was doing to me. I was still young and impressionable and he knew he could get what he wanted from me and how to get it.”

I’ll try and control my temper until Orlando’s safely home. Then I am going to scream and shout and kick at the walls. I can’t fathom all these terrible things happening to so perfect a creature.

“I ended up living with Hristo for about two years before it all fell apart. He was constantly telling me I was ugly and fat…but it didn’t take long before there were more than just hateful words and shouting. Punching, kicking…”

A heavy sigh and another restless fiddle with the cap. I reach out and take his hand in my larger one.

“You don’t have to go into much detail…this is enough. How did you get away from the abuse in the end?”

“Hristo and I were both actors, but he tried to keep me working as an extra, and went instead for the lead himself. Of course he made it bigger than me in the end. He’s good at what he does and was actually famous for a while. Anyway, I had been working as a sort of extra on a tv series Hristo wasn’t a part of, and the leading man was friendly with me and gave me tips on acting. He was a sweetheart – never pushed me, and was always supportive of me. And oh my god, so observant, he actually managed to figure out that I only allowed the camera to shoot me face on and never profile. I had been going through a phase where Hristo found fault with my nose and I believed how ugly it was. I couldn’t look people in the eye, and was paranoid about how ugly I appeared…I would shy away from others.”

Got it. Bulgarian, dark haired, blue eyed, tall, answers to the name of Hristo. Right. I am going to hunt this bastard down and kill him.

“But…one day I appeared at work with bruises and red nail prints around my neck…that was the last straw. My actor friend took one look at me and talked to the director. By that afternoon, he had me moved out of Hristo’s apartment and I was free although I’d never felt so alone. I was well looked after by my friend, and eventually, we began dating even though I never got over my…experience with Hristo.”

This I hadn’t expected. But at least my god was safe now. And as if to reassure myself, I hug him close and tug at Johnson to get him to look me in the eye.

“I think you’re perfect and amazing and wonderful and sexy and fun and sweet and sensitive and a great pianist.”

He bursts out laughing.

“All those things? That’s a lot. But…thank you. It means a lot that you think I am worth your time.”

He is all those things and more. What is he doing with a guy like me?

“I wonder if you’re wasting your time on me…”

This comment is met with a startled look and he drops the cap he was playing with.

“What? You…you’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met, Viggo! How can you ask such a thing? Look at your art, for one if nothing else!”

I don’t want to follow this line of conversation so I pull him close for a kiss, effectively cutting off his senseless rambling. Oh, Orlando, you don’t know what a treasure you are, or how much you mean to me already.

“So, who was this man who saved you? The actor.”

A brown eyebrow is archt met me.

“You haven’t figured it out?”

“Oh. So I know this guy?”

A laugh followed by a grin.

“Yep. It was Eric.”

Oh my god.

TBC...
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Flying With Eagles