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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: zarakan@hotmail.com
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: Your best friend isn't just the one who has time for you…but must also have a baby monitor, super salty popcorn and interesting points…

Chapter 31

It’s been two days since I’ve been back to the fourth floor of Paradise.

I can’t seem to force myself to go back to the place I am supposed to call my home when it’s empty of the one thing that brings it light, life…and love.

The day my god left me on a plane, good old Beanie waited patiently outside the airport in his car to take me back to his place. And he didn’t complain when I quietly mentioned I wanted to wait until Orlando’s plane had actually takenght ght into air before we left…on the slight chance that my prince changed his mind and needed me to take him back home with me. It was a small chance, but I was willing to take it. Any chance, no matter how slim, was still a chance to be with my god.

London is still warm this time of year…but I felt empty and frozen as Beanie and I sat in his car, watching as the planes took off, one by one. I felt my heart shattering each time another rumbling machine took to the air, re ire if that was the one carrying my god away from me…my hand gripping tightly onto my mobile in case Orlando should seek me.

The call never came.

My best friend never said a word to rush or hurry me, even when the sun went down and the stars began to make their dim appearances and the flight for Melbourne had to have left hours ago, taking my life along with it. Beanie merely patted my shoulder in comfort when I slumped my head and shoulders admitting defeat though I wouldn’t give into my grief while he was there. I think it’s a man thing, about dignity and honour, big boys don’t cry and all that crap, but he hugged me and made me look him in the eye.

What I saw there shocked me. There was the need to reassure and comfort, there was sympathy…but then I saw it. He was also hurting.

“I am sorry you’re going through something like this again…so soon after Exene. I am not Orlando…you don’t have to act strong for me. You can let go now…” he whispered quietly to me, his arms strong and secure around me. It made it okay that I was upset, and as always, there are no pretences between us.

The car turned back to the city and no word would ever be mentioned of the tears I wept or the pain I suffered in the hour long drive it took to Beanie’s house. He was living alone again, his girls off to live with their mothers and though he doesn’t like to mention it, I know he feels the emptiness acutely. Maybe this way, I am providing him some company though – bad company, but company nonetheless, I suppose.

He knows me well, prepared as he is after the breakup of my marriage with Exene. I would need space, but I couldn’t bear to be left totally alone. So without me needing to ask, he had me gently coaxed into his youngest daughter’s bedroom – the only one which adjo to to his own master room.

I spent that first lonely night sleeping in a room decorated with pink stars and yellow teddy bears on the walls. Beanie had to add the final touch by turning on Sandra’s child light that projected lights in the shape of animals across the room to soothing children’s lullabies. Lying there in the dark, watching the happy hippo slowly make its way across the ceiling, my heart felt a little soothed by the mindless activity I was engaged in. There was no way I could have slept in the pitch dark with only my dark thoughts. Beanie has had three unsuccessful marriages – to a certain degree, he knows exactly what I am going through.

If it weren’t for him and his unorthodox ways of cheering up a broken hearted man, I couldn’t have survived that first night. I hadn’t realised till about three in the morning when he appeared in my room bearing two cups of hot coffee, that he had set up the baby monitor beside my bed and had heard me crying quietly to myself. It was surprising to say the least since I knew Beanie had propped the door connecting our rooms open, and had settled on trying to muffle my childish sobbing with my pillow.

“Beanie! What are you doing here at…three am?”

“I heard you crying. Couldn’t let my mate cry alone.”

“Sorry…did I wake you? I didn’t know I was so loud…”

“Nah, I set this on you.”

He cheerfully set his end of the baby monitor on the table beside the coffees. I always knew he was insane, but this just proves it.

“I am not a child. I can’t believe you did that! You set that…baby device e!” e!”

“Well, children cry when they are hungry, bored, lonely or simply longing for some human company. When my girls had nightmares in the middle of the night, they always came running to me. I know you’re all ‘macho’ and not going to seek my comfort…so I was waiting to offer it. If it takes setting a child’s walkie-talkie I haven’t used in four years, then that’s what I’ll do to make sure you’re not confused, upset and alone.”

I didn’t know what to say in the face of that, and he didn’t expect an answer. He merely brought my coffee (so sweet with sugar and milk it had practically solidified) to my bedside and like a doting mother, helped me sit up comfortably and tucked the blankets warmly around me.

“I am not a child!”

My pride wouldn’t let him baby me, though my heart desperately wanted to be looked after and comforted.

“Shut up, and squish over.”

Despite my initial objections, he cuddled with me on that tiny child’s bed, two grown men well into their fourth decade, snuggling under the same blanket with warm drinks, talking, laughing and crying together well until the sun came up.

That was how I survived the first night.

~~~

The second day, I spent busying myself with Kurt in Eric’s apartment, clearing out stuff, moving stuff around and generally poking around, trying to learn more about the man my god had taken to calling ‘brother’. In all honesty, I didn’t know why I was torturing myself this way. Learning more about him, though he was no longer here…but I couldn’t help myself.

The entire time I was in the Leopard’s lair, I was constantly thinking about how my prince had played a part in this man’s life and apartment. Which furniture had he helped pick out? Where did he usually sit while here? What time did he come over? What did they do together? Did he know how to make that huge screen thing go back into the ceiling? Had he ever fallen asleep on this huge couch like he did while at my place? All these questions…with no answers.

I had to decline though when Kurt asked me if I wanted to help clear out Orlando’s apartment on the third floor too. It hadn’t ever occurred me that they had lived apart, but come to think of it now, all the clues had been in place. I could hear the piano from my apartment – my god couldn’t have been playing from the Leopard Suite on the first floor. And besides, the two were best friends and ‘brothers’…I was such a fool.

Though I was helping with the packing, my ear was always on the lookout for the ringing of the phone in my pocket. I was waiting for it to ring any second now. Before my prince had left, I had made sure he had my mobile phone number, my house number, Exene and Henry’s number, Beanie’s number…all the possible contact numbers I could think of. I reminded him so many times to call he swore he would never phone if I mentioned it again. But I couldn’t get enough reassurance from him that we would stay in touch. He seemed…reluctant to call me, and I was terrified since I couldn’t contact him.

He had the name of a hotel, but no number I could call him on since he had not applied for roaming on his mobile and wouldn’t have a steady place to live in Melbourne for a while yet. So I had to do all that I could to ensure that he would call me. And he promised. I’ll hold him to that.

Thought that didn’t mean my hand didn’t jump to my pocket every time a sudden noise was heard. I am normally a very patient man, capable of out-waiting a stubborn four-year old Henry who wouldn’t eat his vegetables; and even the old grannies who took their time in the supermarket checkout – though Beanie would always snap and hustle them along, usually helping them pack everything to get things moving. But where Orlando was concerned, I was edgy, moody and snappish, especially when no call came even when it was time for dinner and Beanie came to pick me up from Eric’s apartment.

How could the one man who brought out the best in me, in both my art and personality, suddenly cause me to be so anti-social, impatient and bad-tempered?

Oh Orlando, the things you do to me…

~~~

That second night, Beanie had concocted another activity for us. He had hired all the bad romantic comedies he could think of, and bought only popcorn to eat.

“What? We’re not eating dinner?”

The look of disbelief he shot me was priceless, and he spoke slowly as if to a stupid child.

“Of course we are! Look at all the popcorn I made!”

There were three huge tubs of the stuff in front of us, and true to form, the insane Englishman had added his own butter onto the already fat slathered white puffs.

“We can’t only eat popcorn!”

Another look of disbelief and I shut up. Fine. We’ll do it his way. Even if it meant watching cheesy films while eating popcorn…and drinking a case of his priceless cognac.

Eating popcorn is like eating air – it’s fun on the mouth (though Beanie’s super salty recipe had me downing the bitter liquid like a fish), but it doesn’t seem to fill you up at all. And the alcohol was fast getting to my head. Maybe that was his intention, because when I swayed while trying to h thh the popcorn, he laughed uproariously. Or maybe that was because he was getting tipsy too.

“I hate…watching these stupid movies…” I slurred sometime during ‘How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days’.

“I know you do…but I wanted to make a point.”

For some reason, that hit me as really amusing and I burst out laughing. Beanie is one of those people who make the most useless and uninteresting ‘points’ that seem to go on and on…but once I started laughing he followed too and we missed about ten minutes of the movie sniggering over nothing.

“You know,” he continued, still trying to choke back his chuckles, “the hero always gets the girl.”

“That’s why I hate these films. That doesn’t happen in real life.”

“No, it does happen! We’ve watched four of these films so far…and the hero has won every time.”

“Simply because unhappy endings don’t sell.”

“Shut up. Stop being so realistic. I am trying to make a point.”

He’s so funny, and it’s even more amusing that he doesn’t even realise.

“Stop laughing, Viggo!”

“I can’t help it…fine, fine. Your point?” I concede since he looks miffed that I am not paying attention.

“I want you to know that there’s always hope – That the hero always win the princess in the end. Or in your case, the prince.”

He must really be drunk to be going on about heroes and princesses.

“Okay…”

“You’re a hero, Viggo. Don’t forget that.”

That was the last of our conversation because Beanie immediately fell into a drunken sleep at that point, though I managed to stay awake till Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey kissed on the bridge…just to make sure the advertiser prince won the writer princess and they won their ‘happily ever after’.

Not that I believe in that stuff.

Not at all.

Well maybe.

Damn Beanie for giving me ideas.

TBC...

I still can't make myself write the weepy chapter! This was the prelude to the tearjerker but it got so long I had to cut it into two. Just read this and the next chapter at once and I hope it'll induce a sniffle. Or maybe not. *Me sniffing*

*squee* - Good job! Yes, Klaus is the name of Eric's son. That was all I wanted you guys to notice...it's like a little up-and-coming. That one day, Eric will get with somebody and name his kid after his beloved brother. Well spotted!

Page - Thank you! I think love first then sex second is the way to go...so that's what I wanted to show in this story. And I am so happy you like my style of writing. MUAH for the encouragement!!

Anya - I am surprised you managed to read all of this at once, haha! It would have given me a headache if I were to attempt that. But I am so glad you're still with me here and still reading. Thanks a lot, and I hope you enjoyed this new chapter!
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Flying With Eagles