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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: The man stud revealed...

Here you are, my impatient pets! I managed to get it out on time! It's Christmas Eve!! YAY!

I had really wanted to write this earlier so I could do this idea I had planned for a Viggorli Christmas, but now that has all been shot to hell, since I won't be able to write it quickly enough. And added to that, it just seems stupid to write a Christmas story after Christmas. DAMN. That part even had a plot! *Pout*

But here you all are, and a MERRY CHRISTMAS!! Thanks for being so patient with this story, and there will be an update in the not too distant future, since I've come back to Hong Kong for the holidays! So, probably more writing time. =)

Love you guys!

Chapter 46

The toilet is a monstrosity; bright red walls and overly cheery music blaring, typical of a restaurant like this one. I’ve always wondered why they play such fast-paced music in bathrooms…is it to ‘move things along’ in there, so to speak? Anyway back to the present, I find Orlando in there, both arms braced against the sink as he hangs his head.

“Hey…”

There is no response. I head a little closer and cautiously wrap my arms around him.

“What’s wrong, muffin?”

Finally, his head is raised just enough that he can see me in the reflection of the mirror.

“Nothing’s wrong, Viggo.”

Yeah right.

“Don’t give me that. Why did you suddenly run away?”

Deep breath, then Orlando exhales sharply, combing his fingers through his curls.

“I wasn’t running away. Just giving you time with your…best friend.”

I look at him in surprise.

“You don’t have to do that! What are you going on about?”

“Never mind.”

He tries to pull away from me, but I am still holding him close, and no way am I letting him go yet.

“No one is moving until you’ve explained to me what you mean. Now.”

Shouldn’t have said it in such a demanding tone, as it makes Orlando wince a little at the sharpness of it. I hate how fragile and nervous he sometimes acts around me, especially when I get worked up, and I try to soften the harshness by kissing his temple soothingly.

“Tell me, muffin.”

“…it’s nothing much. Seeing you two sometimes…” deep sigh, “I just feel a little left out.”

How intelligent am I? Why had that never occurred to me? Talk about insensitive bastards.

“Oh…to be honest, I hadn’t noticed. I am so sorry, Orlando…was it something I said?”

“No,” he rushes to convince me, “it’s stupid, but…I feel I don’t really have the right to sort of…intrude on your relationship with him. Like…you two have your shared history and friendship, and I shouldn’t butt in. I felt that Sean wanted to tell you some kind of secret so I left to…give you a little room without the third wheel listening in and being nosy.”

I can only stare wonderingly at him. So many things I don’t notice or realise are playing out before me. Is there some kind of power play between my boyfriend and best friend that I’ve been kept in the dark about?

“Well, think of it this way…”I pause to try and think of the best way to express what I am thinking, “would you feel that I were intruding if I had dinner with you and Eric? After all, he’s your brother-slash-best friend-slash-ex lover. According to you, I should be running to the bathroom every five minutes to give you two ‘time to talk’ without, what was it – ah yes, ‘the third wheel listening in’?”

Never mind that I am the one uncomfortable within close proximity of that wild cat, but, what does it matter when I am trying to make a point?

“…I’ve never seen it like that. And no, of course I want you to be there with us. Since I love you both.”

“Exactly. So I don’t want you to feel left out of the relationship I have with Beanie either – yeah, we’re friends, but we’re not hiding anything from you. He likes you, how could he not?”

He looks suspiciously at me, but the sincerity is there in my face (I know for a fact since we’re standing in the bathroom and are surrounded by mirrors), and he sighs, leaning against me.

“Sorry, Viggo…sometimes I read far too much into a situation.”

I’ve noticed, but I am not going to kick him while he’s done. Especially with his hurt back.

“Nah, don’t apologise, it’s sweet that you care enough about me to worry about things like that.”

“I am not sweet! I am sexy…” he pouts, good mood already quickly returning.

“Of course you are, sweetie-pie,” I can’t resist baiting him as I grab his hand and lead him back out to the restaurant, crisis adverted, though his pout is still grudgingly in place.

You may call me Viggo Mortensen – The official Sexy Man Pacifier Extraordinaire.

~~~

Beanie is still sitting at the table when we meander our way back, and he must have been bored since there’s a pile of shredded napkins in front of him. I swear, he’s got the patience and mentality of a six year old.

“Hey!” The relief in his voice is palpable, and it amuses me to think that he’d been stressing out while we were away. Orlando slides back into his seat and offers a weak smile.

“You guys are fine?”

“Of course. Were you expecting otherwise?” Raised eyebrow.

“No, no,” my best friend rushes to soothe, “just relieved that you’re back now…since the waitresses kept coming over to ask me if you’d brought condoms in with you since they don’t have a vending machine in the toilets here to distribute. But I assured them you’ve both got an ample supply handy. With lube.”

I whack him over the head as my boyfriend goes a bright shade of red. That damn Beanie thinks he’s so funny, but sex is one of the worst subjects he can bring up, especially since my god and I still haven’t really discussed his ‘problem’.

“Shut up,” I murmur.

“What’s wrong, man stud? Embarrassed about your sexual prowess?”

My poor prince has now gone a scary scarlet. I don’t think I am doing much better judging by Beanie’s delighted bark of laughter.

“Shut up. And I am not a man stud, so stop calling me that!”

“You are so the stud. Come on, 9.2!!”

“I’ve had it with you and the numbers. What is going on??”

He tries to explain but keeps laughing too hard to continue, so I kick him hard, under the table. At least he’s not making Orlando uncomfortable anymore.

“I-I…” no words are coming out, so I guess we’ll have to wait until he’s calmed down. I ask for the dessert menu and hand it to Orlando so he at least can hide his face behind something.

“You got…9.2,” our resident lunatic finally manages to blurt out.

“9.2,” I repeat dumbly, “what the hell does that mean?”

There is another laughing fit, before I finally decipher the mumbled phrase, “hot or not.”

To my surprise though, he isn’t the only one laughing anymore as Orlando cracks up.

“You didn’t, Sean! You wouldn’t!”

“Oh, I did! I did!”

How annoying.

“Come on! Tell me,” I whine, but they’re both ignoring me, intent on keeping their little secret and laughing like loons by themselves. It looks like fun, and I want in!

“When did you do it?” my god asks, still addressing Beanie and ignoring the pokes he’s getting from me.

“Ages ago! Right after that thing at the Japanese restaurant when he embarrassed me.”

“That’s ages!”

“I know! You should see me logging on everyday to see the updated figures.”

“You should have told me! I want to see.”

“It was brilliant! He started with 7.2, but then started climbing to about 8.6 and when I checked today, he was already at a whopping 9.2!”

Orlando is laughing so hard he almost shaking at this point. I nudge him.

“What’s 9.2? Is that good?”

Beanie slaps his knee and punches my prince in the shoulder.

“Is that good, he asks. Of course it is, you idiot! I have a feeling you’ll be scoring 9.8 within the next week…stud boy.”

“Just tell me!” I insist. It’s getting so annoying being on the outside of the joke.

Luckily, my god has a soft spot for me because he decides they’ve been terrorising me for too long and tries to explain.

“’Hot or not’ is this website…”

“…where you can post pictures,” Beanie adds.

“…o-okay.” This makes no sense. “So what does that have to do with me?”

“Well…” my best friend and boyfriend share a grin.

I admit, I am slow. But I really don’t get it!

“…I put you up on the site.”

My jaw drops.

“You put a picture of me on a website?” I echo in disbelief.

“Yeah! It was sort of to get back at you for embarrassing me!”

“Well, take it down!”

“I am not finished yet,” Beanie snickers, “You haven’t heard the rest of it.”

Oh shit.

“There’s more?”

I look over at my god, but he’s still too busy laughing to pay attention to me. He’s got one hand over his mouth that is upturned into a huge grin. At least someone is having fun.

“Go on. Give me all the bad news at once.”

“Ahem. So, I put your picture up on the site, and waited…”

That asshole is playing this up for all its worth, pausing for dramatic effect.

“YES??”

“…for people to vote.”

“Vote…?” I sigh exasperated.

“Whether you’re hot or not!” both men chime in unison.

For a second, there is nothing but the sound of their sniggering before I growl warningly.

“Let me get this straight – you went and posted up a picture of me – against my knowledge, I might add! - And anybody can go on and vote on me?”

“That’s the idea!”

The smug look on Beanie’s face is so annoying.

“I am going to kill you!”

“But why?” he plasters on an ‘innocent-white-rabbit-harmlessly-eating-carrot’ face, “They love you! With a score like 9.2, you’re already on your way to becoming the hot or not poster boy of the month!”

There are no words. No words at all.

“Suck it up, stud man!”

~~~

After a stunt like that, it’s obvious that Beanie was going to pay for dinner. He was still laughingly wiping the tears from his eyes while he signed the damn check.

So what else could I do?

“You’re not serious!” he grumbled, resentfully getting up and taking the keys from my hand, “That’s not fair!”

“Yes it is. You deserve it, you asshole! Now get on your way, I want the apartment at a perfect 23 degrees when I get back. And take my damn photo off the site!”

Like the good (and bitter) dog he is, off he trotted back to my place to get the heater going, light the candles and fill my tub with warm scented water. Serves him right.

Besides, it gives me time with Orlando to just sit here and enjoy the wine my generous friend already paid for.

I was just starting to feel slightly redeemed of my lost honour from the hot or not escapade when my phone chirped at me.

“You still have that crazy ringtone!” Orlando gleefully hoots.

“I didn’t change it…you thought it was funny, remember?”

We smile over the shared memory before the stupid device chirps again. I peer at the tiny screen to see ‘Beanie’ flashing across it.

“Set the bath water to a perfect 42 degrees, asshole?” I greet.

“Um…Viggo. Maybe you should get your ass back here now.” His voice is nervous and I can make out some shouting from his end.

“Why? What’s wrong, Beanie?” I am instantly alert.

“Erm…”

There is suddenly some fumbling before I hear distinctly in the background,

“Tell that asshole to get back here now! He has some explaining to do! What the hell has he done to Orlando??”

Shit. I’d know that roar anywhere.

Yep, it’s the Leopard man himself. And he sounds pissed.

TBC...

Hehe...you guys like? And as promised, there's the cliffhanger! *MUAH*

And extra cuddles to Anya for her last comment - it really made me get off my ass and write this. Sorry you had to wait so long, but I would have to finish this, wouldn't I? Thanks, hun!

Julesia - Always nice to have a new reader in this, and I am so glad Viggorli is your new fav pairing! I hope it had something to do with my story, haha...thanks for the comment!!

Shui - Your wish is my command, here is another chapter! And with more evil Beanie! *Cheers with you*

Of course, this wouldn't have been possible without my big bitch, Danielle. She's the co-founder of this Hot or Not joke that we did indeed play on a friend of ours. And umm, no, she didn't score as highly as Viggo! Hahaha...

Thanks for all of you who reviewed - it's the reason I still press on with this saga! =)
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Flying With Eagles