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Flying With Eagles	By : Zar Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 10192 -:- 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: ZEmaiEmail: 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: Orlando learns more about Viggo…

Note: This is in fact dedicated to Clex_monkie89 on my LJ...she has helpe so so much with this story, offering to do research, and just generally being so supportive of me when I am too lazy to carry on with the new chapter. You all have her to thank because if it weren't for her, you wouldn't be getting this chapter today. Maybe next week? I just couldn't be bothered...so *MUAH*

Note 2: Slightly longer chapter too, you lucky pigs! And even a bit of FLUFF!!! *Shock*

Chapter 44

I slide the glass door shut after my god comes in, and I can see him shivering the moment the warm air hits him.

“Cold?”

He just shrugs, but even in the near dark, I can see him trembling. Then and again, maybe that’s not from the wind.

Neither of us moves though we’re inside, so we’re just standing there. I look longingly towards the bedroom door where I know my nice toasty bed will be waiting for me, but this talk can’t wait. As Elvis once crooned, “It’s now or never…”

The couch is more of Orlando’s territory for spilling his past and I don’t really want to…intrude on that if it makes any sense, so I make my way to the kitchen. Judging from his quiet sigh of relief and rapid footsteps as he follows me, it’s obvious the couch wasn’t his first-choice either.

There are a few stools crowded haphazardly around the kitchen and I perch up on one while my prince hops up onto his usual place on the counter. He’s fiddling with a ring he’s wearing and studiously not looking at me, but when I glance away, I can feel his gaze on me. There must be something I can do to relieve the tension…

Alcohol.

Probably not a good idea to turn to alcohol every time I am stressed, but I’ll make an exception since it gives my hands something to do.

“Wine?” I offer as I lift two glasses from the cabinet.

“Hmm?”

I must have startled poor Orlando out of his thoughts, and he blinks dazedly at me. The bottle of wine is teasingly waved in front of his face.

“Would you like some?”

A thoughtful look, then a shake of the head. The movement draws my attention to Johnson, whom I had almost forgotten, and I take a moment to just gaze at him in his coiled splendour.

“Viggo? No wine thanks…”

I am such an idiot, but I try to save it by leaving the glasses and wine, then running a hand carelessly through his bangs, and consequently caressing Johnson.

“I know you did, muffin, but…there’s something in your hair.”

“Is there? Maybe something picked up from the wind outside just then…”

The wine is poured and I lift it to the light as if to ponder its texture and colour, but it is in fact a cleverly disguised manoeuvre so I can glimpse Orlando pawing at this hair through rose-tinted glasses.

Hehe, I guess that’s not the traditional meaning, but hey…

“Why are you smiling like that?”

I seem to be digging myself into holes all over the place tonight.

“Because of that dirt still in your fringe,” I interject smoothly. It also gives me another chance to touch those beautiful curls, and no sane man is going to say no to that!

He sits obediently and quietly, letting me fawn over and ‘inspect’ the Johnson in question. There is another Johnson I would like to examine, but the experience earlier on declared rather spectacularly that Johnson isn’t all that interested in me.

Which brings us all back to this talk I seem to be subconsciously avoiding.

“All clean now…”

I give the wayward curl one last reluctant parting pat then back off to my stool and waiting wine.

“Thanks.”

Sip at the wine…sip at the wine…it’s really not bad.

“You don’t want any wine, Orlando? It’s good.”

A puzzled expression crosses his face.

“I already said no…about twice now.” He breathes in deeply then slides off the counter towards me, taking the glass from me and putting it to a side so he can take my hands in his. “Viggo, listen…I can tell you don’t want to talk about this. We don’t have to…I am definitely not going to push you before you’re ready. We can do this again some other – ”

“No. No, no…thanks, muffin, but…it’s okay. I don’t know why I am so nervous. Yeah, let’s talk then.”

“Sure? You can just sit here and enjoy your wine and I’ll…umm, well, I…I guess I can sit here with you and watch you drink it.”

My prince bumbling and rambling is the sweetest thing in the world, and it’s one of the best tension-breakers I know of.

A chuckle bubbles up from inside of me and I let it out, taking with it a lot of my nervousness.

I can do this.

“Come here…”

I pull my angel into the space between my legs so I can wrap arms around his back and it’s odd to find myself having to look up to see his face. Normally, it’s me looking down to see him…but this reversal is nice and I snuggle my face into his chest.

He waits for me as I gather my thts,hts, dancing his fingers across the nape of my neck where the muscles are tense and brushing kisses against my forehead. Maybe he doesn’t realise, but he’s echoing the soothing gesture I had performed on him when he was upset on the balcony. It’s odd how so many things are reversed right now.

“Henry is twenty,” I blurt out suddenly. Yeah, why bother trying to put thoughts in orders?

“Twenty…younger than me,” is the mumble I hear. The rumble in his chest reverberates and I press my ear closer to ‘feel’ the strange sounds. The vibrations mixed with the steady thump of his heartbeat are reassuring and I just let myself be comforted by them…until I register what he said.

“Of course he’s younger than you! Did you think my boyfriend would be younger than my ow>son>son?”

“I didn’t mean to say it out-loud!” my blushing prince indignantly retorts.

Well…apparently, he’s picked up my habit of thinking out-loud then. That’s sweet…we’re already like an old married couple.

“Anyway…my young son,” my chosen adjective earns me a pinch on the neck and I grunt in protest though carry bravely on with my story, “…ahem, I meant ‘my son’ is off in university right now.”

“…do you miss him?”

“Of course I do…and I want to call and visit all the time…but he’s a young man growing up and he doesn’t need his old man peeking over his shoulder all the time…he has to make his own mistakes and learn.”

The subject of my son pains me and it takes a few deep breaths before I continue.

“I wish he were here. I wish I were a better father.”

The arms around me tighten.

“Viggo, I don’t know your son…but I know you. You can’t be anything but a great father.”

I suddenly feel the need to look at his face so I push back but his arms won’t let me go.

“You wouldn’t understand…”

“What wouldn’t I understand? Tell me…”

I can’t. I don’t want him to know how I’ve failed. How I’ve failed Exene. How I’ve failed Henry. How I’ve failed my parents, Rune…and most of all, Preben.

“Viggo?”

I struggle a little more in his embrace, and this time, he allows me space though he keeps me encircle with his warmth.

“Exene is Henry’s mother.”

No questions or objections are raised about the sudden subject change…not even a query as to why I consider her ‘Henry’s mother’ and not ‘my ex-wife’…some time later, I’ll have to remember to thank my prince for his tacit understanding.

“Exene…what an unusual name.”

“Well, she’s a very unusual lady.” I smile at the memory of the rock/punker woman with bleached blonde hair and dark roots softly crooning to a snoozing Henry. The gentle caresses to my neck and stiff shoulders have begun again and I sigh at the contact.

“What’s she like?”

“Hmm…she’s…a real individual. Never let anyone dictate what she should do, always had very strong opinions. Of course, I found her attractive, but not everyone did. She’s not beautiful in the traditional fashion, and she certainly wasn’t traditional in her thinking either – she wouldn’t have become a housewife for anyone, not even me. Artistic, stubborn, witty, musical, talented, outrageous, beautiful, impetuous…yes. Quiet, sensitive, shy, polite…no. But we were great together.”

Orlando had tensed about halfway through my little speech and whether consciously or not, had held his breath through to the end.

“…but that’s in the past. And there’s you now,” I reassure, casting what I hope to be an adoring look up at him, “…and we’re wonderful together.”

His confidence isn’t much restored, and he leans over me, persistently nudging at my chin until I’ve tilted my head back enough that he can kiss me.

And what a kiss this is.

Hungry, passionate, raw, intense…it invokes reactions and emotions I didn’t think I could feel…and then I have my epiphany. Each person only has one, apparently. Isaac Newton’s came when the damn apple fell on his head…or the stroke of lightning which inspired Ben Franklin to discover its relation to electricity…

Well, here is mine…a hit to the head and lightning through my body. Mine would not change the course of the world or change the lives of men.

But it does change the course of two: mine and his.

Orlando is the only one my soul cries for and my body yearns for…him and only him.

There can be no other, which is why…we belong together. We need each other.

It is so simple, I wonder why I hadn’t realised earlier…but this is the first time he has initiated so passionate and all-consuming act of love. I can only hope I can pass all his protective boundaries and knock down all his walls to see what else he has to reveal.

When he finally releases me, there are no words spoken and neither of us moves away so our noses and foreheads are still touching…panting in the same air, staring at each other. We’re so close that he is literally all I can see…his long-lashed eyes and those high-arching cheekbones…

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

~~~

That talk wasn’t as long as some of the ones Orlando had shared, but for me, the pain of divorce was still incredibly fresh and without me needing to say anything, my prince didn’t push for more, letting me take my time. I could tell my god was tired from our date, the subsequent revelation of his…disorder, and then the confrontation with me, so it wasn’t long after that I ushered him off to bed.

Brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed, I was relieved when I came back to the bedroom to find Orlando stripping off his T-shirt. Whether he realises or not, he’s showing me that he’s no longer hiding from me. Good. The sight of the T-shirt earlier had worried me.

I climb into my side of the bed and shiver melodramatically at the cold sheets, hoping my prince can take a hint.

“Cold, baby?”

Indeed he can, because a warm body is wrapped insistently around me and the blanket is tucked firmly under my chin. Since he’s been staying with me, Orlando has made a series of little rituals he does every night, and this is one of them in which he takes care of me.

The day had drained me more than I had expected and my eyelids are starting to droop. So comfortable. Warm god wrapped around me, his cold nose nuzzling my ear…the sheets are getting toasty…mmm…

Wait a second. I had almost forgotten.

“Muffin? How did you know about Henry in the first place?”

He chuckles and the hot breath against my jaw is giving me ideas though I try to block them out.

“I knew before I went to Australia…”

“That’s quite early…”

I don’t say it, but he can pick up that I am still not pleased he hadn’t said anything to me about it earlier. I get a kiss on the cheek.

“Maybe you don’t know…but you sort of gave it away yourself.”

Really? Don’t recall…

“When?” I demand, suddenly wide-awake.

Another kiss.

“You were really upset when I was about to leave, and gave me a whole list of telephone numbers so I could call you. Remember?”

I do. I wanted to make sure he could contact me.

“Yes…”

“Oh baby…you gave me Henry and Exene’s home number.”

“What? I didn’t.”

“You did. You wrote it down after Sean’s number.”

“…oh. Really? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Another kiss. I am growing to like the kisses.

“You were already so upset that I was leaving…and if you recall, I hadn’t planned on staying in touch with you anyway. So I just ignored it…until I took your teddy mug and found the name ‘Henry’ engraved on its bottom.”

Now that I do remember.

“You gathered I had a son from that?”

“Umm…don’t get angry…but I went and asked Sean who Henry was.”

Silence.

I don’t know what to say. I told that damn Beanie not to say anything!!

“Don’t be angry! You said you wouldn’t be!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Oh. But please…don’t be mad. And anyway, I didn’t confront you or anything so…”

“That’s besides the point. You should have asked me.”

Probably a bad thing to say since the body beside me is now tensed. And it’s rather hypocritical since I did go to Beanie for information on Orlando myself…but just knowing that my boyfriend went behind my back, and my best friend went against his word…

“…does it really matter, Viggo?”

“Well…”

“Come, you need your sleep, baby. You have to get up early to call Henry tomorrow.”

How the …?

My surprise must have shown on his face because he laughs at me.

“Viggo…did you think I haven’t noticed you getting up early every Saturday morning at eight and sneaking out to the kitchen with the phone? And was it luck that I never came out, though you know I can’t stay asleep if you’re not by my side?”

I really am an idiot. But I gain a very nice kiss, two nuzzles behind the ear and a tight squeeze, so I guess it’s okay.

Maybe Orlando likes the thinks-he’s-so-sly-and-sneaky-but-is-in-fact-an-idiot types.

And I wouldn’t complain about that at all, if only that my soulmate’s gentle breathing against my ear is getting other parts of me excited.

He’s worth it. And besides, I get to talk to Henry in the morning.

Life couldn’t be better.

Ahh, if only I knew how wrong I was…

TBC...

Hehe, isn't that ending wonderfully ambiguous? Do you think I mean, A) Viggo is wrong because things CAN get better than he expected...or B) Things are going to go disastrously wrong? *Laughing*

I love Orlando who initiates and takes what he wants. He's growing balls, that boy! *Proud*

Thanks for your reviews, guys. I write better and faster when you guys give me encouragement, so thanks...*hug* So remember to leave a little something for me to read!!

Anya - This chapter is longer again! I don't understand it, haha...but at least you're liking it, right? I try to aim at about 1500 words, but then they always go over my prediction, so what's the point of trying, yeah? Though I'll make sure some chapters in the future are shorter, so it's balanced. *Wink* Can't promise you anything about Muffin being impotent...but let me say that I have plans for that boy. And I did promise that in the future, they're going to have a great time in bed. So dont' fear!!

Shui - Hello, hon! Yes, I need my dose of sweet reviews...*begging* Hahaha, but I love hearing from you, so yay! I am surprised you find this story realistic. You're kidding, right? Orlando is IMPOTENT! That's not real at all!! *Crosses fingers* And the answer to your Q? Orlando sort of worked out bits and pieces of the Exene/Henry question and then went to Beanie for more. Ahh...he's not as dumb as he looks! *Winks*
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Flying With Eagles