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. |
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: Viggo is revealed to be a sentimental sap and gets what he deserves…
Chapter 45
Two weeks fly by in a blink of an eye. You know what they say about time flying, and having fun…
Well, the first two days were a little awkward since I didn’t quite know how to act in front of Orlando. You know, after having ‘hidden’ my son from him, and even to date, haven’t revealed all that happened in my past. But he just brushed past all my reservations and won me over in his own way. And it’s been wonderful.
I am just waiting for it to all cave in on my head. But so far so good, so fingers stay crossed.
The guilt trip I had though, because of the little stunt we played on Beanie that night drove me insane until I gave up two days later and apologised. For some odd reason, my best friend accepted the apology, and was even nice about it…though he crowed ‘sexy stud – 8.6’ at me right before he hung up. I don’t even want to know what kind of drugs he’s on.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, Henry!”
“Hey, Dad…and don’t you mean, good night? It’s midnight over here.”
“Nope, it’s 8:02 here, which means it’s 12:02 there, which means it’s the next day so technically, it’s the morning. Good morning!”
There is silence and I grin wickedly, imagining the scowl on my son’s face.
“…Dad, you’re such a geek.”
“And that’s cool, isn’t it? That’s a cool term, right? I am not very ‘in’ with my youth-slang. But I know the light of my light, soul of my heart, angel from the – ”
“AHHH, what are you on about??”
I know he moans and groans, but he enjoys our father/son bantering. Well, at least I miss it when we’re apart.
“So Henry, enlighten me. What do the youths of today do?”
He tells me a about what he’s done this past week since our last conversation, how his mum is, and I try to keep my mind on what he’s saying, but I am constantly distracted by the memory of a warm god still lying in our bed.
“Dad? Dad? Are you listening?”
“What, Henry? Sorry…”
It must be the old age. I used to be just fine focusing on more than one thing at a time, but I can’t concentrate. Damnit. The time I spend with Henry should be fixed on him, and not on Orlando. But it’s so hard not to think about the toned body casually draped with silky bedsheets…
“Dad? Maybe we should talk another time…”
“No, no! Sorry, I am listening now. So, what are you doing up so late?”
“It’s not late. Besides, it’s Sunday tomorrow, so I don’t have to – ”
“Technically, it’s Sunday today, since it’s after midnight,” I cut in. I can’t ever resist the temptation to poke him in the side.
“Dad!!”
“Okay, okay…”
“How’re the paintings coming along?”
“Not bad…still working on the same one.”
“Which one?”
“I told you about it! The one from my birthday…two weeks ago?”
“Oh yeah…but why are you taking so long with this one?”
I smile privately, thinking of Orlando.
“It’s…a special one,” is all I can say.
“Well, at least Beanie will be pleased you’re working constructively.”
“Uncle Beanie.” I always make it a point to correct him, but alas, as all twenty-year old sons, he refuses.
“He doesn’t act like an uncle, he doesn’t deserve the title!”
“Of course he does…did you forget, he was the one who taught you about the birds and the bees?”
“Dad, you idiot…you just made him give me that talk to embarrass him!”
Yeah, I did. And god, was it funny watching Beanie turn different shades of red while Henry intentionally asked the most obscure and detailed sex questions ever.
“I guess you’re right, he’s not very uncle-y. Hey Henry, I am going to let you go and get some sleep now.”
“Okay.”
“Henry. I mean it! It’s late, go sleep.”
“Okay.”
I know he won’t, and it’s a hopeless battle, but at least I tried.
“I’ll speak to you next week.”
“Yep, I’ll be here and awake, and you’ll nag me again next week about sleeping earlier.”
“You got it. Go now!”
“Going…”
“Love you.”
He doesn’t respond to that, only laughingly tells me not to breathe in too much paint fumes.
I replace the phone and just stare at it for a little while with a small smile on my face. How I love my crazy boy.
Turning around, hoping to still catch my prince asleep for another cuddle session, I am brought to a stop when he is suddenly behind me.
“Orlando?” I place a hand on my chest in exaggerated shock, “you surprised me!”
The look on his face is unreadable, but I think I detect a hint of hurt.
“It was your birthday two weeks ago?”
Crap.
“You were listening to my call?” I try to counter.
He blushes but won’t give in.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”
“…it’s not important. Besides, I hate getting older and try not to think about it.”
“But we shouldn’t have let it go by without acknowledging it or anything at all. We should have done something.”
He’s biting his lip and looking uncomfortable, standing there in only his boxers. Poor angel. Looking into his face to make sure I am welcome, it’s easy to pull him into a snug embrace.
“Don’t worry about it, muffin. It’s over now anyway. And I went out for a birthday lunch with Beanie that day.”
The head against my shoulder shakes.
“No. I am your boyfriend! We should celebrate together…hey, let’s do it today. A late…memory…party…celebration thing. Even just going out for dinner. You can’t let a birthday just pass by!”
“You didn’t realise it, but we already went and had dinner out on my birthday.”
“Did we? What day were you born?”
“October 21st.” I am really hoping he doesn’t realise the significance of the date, but he throws his head back and laughs delightedly.
“You picked the day of our first date to coincide with your birthday! You’re a sentimental old man!”
And so I am.
~~~
No cake, no presents, no singing of birthday song.
Those were the three things my god promised me before we left for this belated ‘birthday dinner’.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
I am about to die of mortification.
Standing up on a chair wearing a paper hat pronouncing you the ‘birthday boy’, being presented with a cake loudly declaring your age by a gaggle of cheering waitresses, all the while with your best friend laughing like a loon and your boyfriend taking your picture is not what I had been expecting. Don’t forget the toddler happily warbling along as well.
At least they’ve finished singing so I can get off the damn chair.
Oh, nope, not yet.
One of the well-endowed waitresses nudges me back up and shakes a finger at me.
“Oh no, birthday boy, stay up there. You still have to blow out the candles!”
“Blow out the candles, man stud!” Beanie echoes loudly. He’s having far too much fun at my expense.
I feel like I am six years old, but I oblige, hoping to quicker end this torture.
Another loud chorus of applause and Orlando gives me a hand back down. I don’t release him though, even when he tries to step away.
“You promised no cake or song,” I grumble to his delight.
“I know I did…but Beanie didn’t! And I kept my promise. I didn’t sing. I only took the pictures.”
Right. Probably for blackmail.
“Aww…don’t be like that…” he gives me a quick kiss and my hand receives a squeeze. I squeeze him back and he leans over to bestow upon me what I can only call a proper birthday kiss. Nice. Now that’s more like what I was hoping for. I want more, and Orlando doesn’t seem about to reject me. Come on, it’s my birthday!!
“We have kids at this table, you know…” Of course that comment comes from Beanie.
“You! Shut up!”
Jack, who Orlando had also invited along to my impromptu birthday celebration is staring transfixed at the birthday cake being passed around to be divided.
“Wan cake-y!”
Vanessa, who had been fixing the ribbon on Lily-Rose’s dress, calms him down by showing him the bright red balloon tied to the back of his high chair.
And before you ask, yes, there are balloons as well. This was not how I imagined turning forty-six to be like. I am old now, there should be cognac and cigars…not toddlers, paper hats and balloons.
“It’s already after my birthday, I can’t believe we’re still doing this…”
“Be quiet and enjoy this, birthday stud.”
I glare quickly at my former best friend.
“Why do you keep calling me stud??”
“That’s because you are one, Mr 9.2…”
A child’s loud whine pulls us from our ‘friendly’ conversation. Lily-Rose had been offered a piece of the cake, and in true older sister style, is now taunting her brother by waving a forkful in front of his face, but not letting him have any.
“Lily…” her mother warns, and she quickly swallows the mouthful.
I can not believe the screech that comes from her baby brother’s mouth as his eyes round in outrage.
This is why, in a way, I am glad Henry was an only child. Wow, my ears wouldn’t have been able to survive. Vanessa on the other hand, is an old pro at sibling rivalry and when Jack opens his mouth again to take in air for another scream, she simply reaches over, grabs her daughter’s fork and plonks a large bite of cake into his mouth.
Ahh…blessed silence, punctuated only by the sounds of munching.
Not long after Jack’s fourth yawn and Vanessa having to save him from falling face first into what remains of his cake, they decide to head off home. I give my favourite toddler one more kiss and he manages in those two seconds to smear cream all over the side of my face.
Then, one last wave and the kids are gone.
“Just as grown ups left,” the wise Bean remarks.
“I am going to kill you for the cake. I hate celebrating birthdays!”
A smirk is the response.
“Well now, we can call it even.”
“Even?”
“For that time you embarrassed me a million times worse in Sakura!”
Oh right, that Japanese restaurant incident.
“You said you already forgave me. But fine, now we’re even.”
“Well, if you put it that way…we’re more than even.”
I really hate that all-knowing sneer on his face. It always forebodes evil.
“Explain?”
“Later.”
Orlando, who had been watching our exchange silently, suddenly blurts out, “who was that woman you were with?”
That seems to be a great question to ask since our friend suddenly turns bright red. Now this is something we don’t see everyday.
“Yeah,” I chime in, “who was she? She seems quite…nice.”
“Shut up.”
Oh no, not when things are just starting to get interesting.
“Come on, Beanie,” I try cajoling, “you know you want to tell us. Come on, you love boasting about your sexual prowess!”
“I am not sleeping with her.”
My prince looks to me and I raise an eyebrow in surprise.
“So it’s not someone you’re dating?”
“…no.”
He still won’t look at me, and I realise that maybe it’s not something we should be teasing about.
“Beanie, what’s going on? Who is she?”
A sigh.
“Viggo…I have something to tell you…but now is probably not the right time.”
I am not sure what’s going on, but Orlando suddenly jerks his chair back and stands up.
“Umm…I’ll just be off to the toilet then.”
“Shit, I didn’t mean…” Beanie starts, but my god is already gone.
“What the…?” I comment.
Beanie shakes his head.
“I didn’t mean that I didn’t want him to listen. Oh no…maybe you should go after him, Vig.”
Damn, I am thick. That possibility hadn’t even occurred to me.
Without another word to my best friend, I race off after my prince; and in my haste, I don’t even notice the familiar dejected look that settles on Beanie’s face as he sits alone and abandoned at a table with the leftovers of a cake he had especially ordered and rushed in time for my spur-of-the-moment birthday dinner tonight.
TBC...
Oh misery, woe is me. There are a mere four days left till the mayday known as my birthday arrives. But I managed to get the next chapter done. Don't worry, after my birthday, updates will pick up again when I am not so melancholy and sighing all the time. I hate getting older. Hate it. I wish Saturday would never arrive.
BTW, I love Beanie. I don't know why I do these things to him. Poor baby...
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