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The Fuse	By : fitzsns Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 2241 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 1-The Fuse
- 1
DISCLAIMER: I do not know Orlando Bloom or, I'm sure, anyone who has ever come into contact with him. Nothing reflected in this story is based in reality. It's fiction. Any mention of other creative property, ie Lord of the Rings, Pirates of the Caribbean, is done with respect to owners of said property. All people and places are either fictitious or used fictitiously. All original characters and ideas belong to me. Consider yourself disclaimed.
A/N This short is rated NC-17 for sexual content and language. This is another one of my scribblings I wrote back in 2003. It was something I had started writing during a blizzard we had March of that year and did nothing with. So a few months later, I turned it into an Orli short. It's got smut, but also FLUFF. It's definately one of the fluffiest things I've ever written. So... anyway... Hope you like it.
*~*~*~*~*
"THE FUSE"
Grace wasn’t pleased.
No. Scratch that.
Grace was pissed off.
Wait. Not right either.
Grace was physically all-consumed by a blinding hatred for… Mother Nature. Nursing a hangover, she hadn’t bothered to watch the news or pick up a paper- or look out the window- that day. She had no idea until there were four inches on the ground that the Blizzard of ’03 had descended upon New Jersey.
“Fuck,” she spat under her breath as she caught the view from her kitchen window. It was white as far as the eye could see. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She’d just managed to open the one eye necessary to turn the coffee machine on and now her poor, dehydrated little body had to deal with the fact that the coffee brewing was probably the only source of nourishment she had in the entirety of her apartment while the am radio announcer spouted off words like “twenty-five” and “inches”.
She sauntered over to the sink, her legs still mushy from her night of girlie bonding with Jac. It was funny how girlie bonding with Jac always involved a pack of Marlboro Menthol Lights, a deck of cards, Jack Daniels, Cruzan Vanilla Rum, and whatever they could find to mix them with. It was bad enough that her lungs were telling her to fuck off as she lit her morning cigarette- the last left in the pack- but her caffeine headache wasn’t being helped by the slow drip-drip of the coffee maker.
Grace inhaled another drag of menthol goodness before wheezing like her asthmatic grandmother and cursing her intolerant lungs. “We made a deal you little fuckers. Smoke first, then air. That is the deal we made.”
She grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen from the cabinet over the sink, and popped three into her mouth, swallowing without the aid of so much as sip of
water. The coffee maker finally ran it’s inhumanly slow cycle and Grace poured herself a full cup- black. She always drank her coffee black. It made her Vanilla-CoffeeMate-luvin’ friends cringe but it was the only way she could bring her body up to functioning level. Addiction was scary but only if
she thought about it.
Fifteen minutes, three cups of coffee, two cigarettes from her emergency stash, and few more centimeters of snow later, Grace’s head was finally
somewhat clear. Really NOT wanting to go out in the mess, she surveyed her pantry in hopes that she had enough of just about anything that could get her through at least two days. The first thing she noticed was that when she’d finished the can of Folgiers to make her coffee that morning, she had finished off the last can she had in the house. “Well, fuck me,” she sighed. That was all she really needed to know. She needed to get to the store before the roads were completely undrivable.
Not bothering to get dressed, Grace threw her overcoat over her Power Puff Girls pajama pants and Eric Clapton T-shirt. She tied on her sneakers and grabbed her keys but as soon as she got out the front door, she saw several cars fish-tailing along the road and thought it better not to drive.
Twenty minutes later, she had trudged the four blocks to the closest Corner Store- Newz N’ Stuff. It was around the block from the train station and Grace had to beat off pissy snow-day commuters with her purse… ”Well, maybe not, but I was about to, ” she thought with a rueful smirk. With a relieved sigh, she ducked into the store and out of the storm, her shoes and the bottom half of her pajama pants soaked through. She knew it had been stupid not to go back into her house to put on more appropriate clothes when she realized she’d be walking but she really wasn’t in the mood to be smart.
Ignoring the looks from the cashier and other customers that crowded into the tiny store at her just-out-of-bed combined with just-walked-four-blocks-in-a-blizzard appearance, she browsed around, picking up random items- coffee, milk, chips, a magazine, instant macaroni and cheese, ramen noodles, Frosted Flakes, and a few other things to tide her over and keep her energy up for when she’d have to dig out her car.
A few minutes later, she made her way back into the storm, noting how her feet felt like they were about to fall off and dreading having to push her way through the travelers from the train station again.
Rounding the corner, she saw him. It was too late to turn around and run. Their eyes had met at the exact same moment.
It only took a moment to realize that there he was, getting off a New Jersey Transit train in New Brunswick, and the only reason he had to be there was her. What the fuck is going on? she thought as he gave her a small, tentative smile and started walking towards her. She took a step back as if running was still an option and he started to walk faster, still careful not to slip on the snow-covered ground.
“Gracie,” he said as he got close enough for her to hear.
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t understand why he was there. She had messed up. She had been the one taking out her insecurities on him while he’d been stressed and all the way across the country. She’d been the one to say that it wasn’t working when she knew it could work if only she’d let her bitchy guard down for once. She felt light headed. All of these thoughts passed through her mind in the fifteen seconds it took him to get to her.
“I know you’re probably mad at me for showing up like this, but I needed to do this in person,” he said earnestly, his hands reaching out to her shoulders.
Mad at him? She could only look at him in confusion and he took it as a sign to continue.
“I know I’ve been an ass and I haven’t been there for you but I can make this work. We’ve been together since before any of this happened for me and I can’t let it destroy the one thing that I need to hold on to, the one thing that has kept me sane. We made it through New Zealand and Morocco and London and Australia; we can make it through Los Angeles. I know we can. I love you. I don’t want to loose you and I certainly don’t want to loose you over the damn phone. Grace? Please, can we at least talk about this?”
It was then that Grace started feel her teeth chatter. She tried to process what Orli was telling her but all her brain would let her think was that she was loosing feeling in her lower extremities.
“Grace? Won’t you say anything?”
“I’m freezing,” she managed to get out.
As if he’d been snapped out of a trance, he looked down to see her pants soaked and her body shuddering with shivers. “Jesus, Grace, what the hell are you wearing?” he said and he shucked his own coat off, ignoring her protests, and wrapping it around her. He knew it would do nothing for her poor feet and calves but it would have to do until they got back to her place. He took her grocery bag from her frozen fingers and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, ignoring the snow that was starting to saturate his sweater.
*~*~*~*~*
Grace woke up in her bed, groggy and disoriented. It was a dream? she thought, rubbing her tired eyes. It seemed so real. She felt like crying- the same girl who’d sworn she’d never let herself cry over a man. She could still see the intense look in his eyes as he apologized for things that weren’t his fault. She could still feel his strong arms wrap around her as her carried her up the stairs to her porch and his hand reach into her coat to get her keys, brushing against her thigh.
She swung her legs out from the covers, sitting for a moment on the edge of her bed, trying to collect herself. Then she realized that she wasn’t wearing her pajamas anymore. Her legs were bare and her pajama pants lay in a wet heap at the foot of her bed. Her mind worked trying to figure out what that meant. Did that mean it wasn’t a dream? Or did it mean
she’d only dreamt him.
She got her answer when a head peaked into her slightly ajar bedroom door. “Gracie? You’re up.”
She looked at him with the same confused expression she hadn’t been able to change outside the train station.
“Please don’t start that again,” he said with a small laugh, noticing the look as well. He walked into the room and knelt at her feet to look her in
eye. “Do you remember what I said?”
She nodded, tearing her eyes away.
“Please tell me you’re going to talk me,” he said, raising a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
She wanted nothing more than to tell him she’d been an idiot and an unforgivable bitch and she wanted to be with him more than anything. It was the truth. But if she told him that, he would take her back as well as the blame and she didn’t know if she could do it.
She was an idiot and an unforgivable bitch. She knew she didn’t deserve him and would inevitably hurt him again and she wanted him to have better. She had all but decided to mask her pain with her usual
cold defense mechanism and turn him away, make a clean break so he could get on with his life… but then she looked in his eyes again and couldn’t do it.
It was then that the tears fell. He looked pained to see her upset and it only made her cry harder. She launched herself off the bed and into his arms, which wrapped around her protectively. The house was completely quiet but for Grace’s sobbing and Orlando’s whispered words of comfort. She pulled back to look at him, knowing that there was no way she’d let him
go, no matter how selfish it was. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, afraid anything louder would shatter him.
“What? Why? You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I was the asshole who’d call and complain and snap at you. This isn’t your fault,” he said, his face
working with the effort of making her understand.
“No,” she sniffled, “I did this. I was scared I was loosing you and I put up all my defenses and I pushed you away. You had every right to call vent
about the things that bother you. You should be able to talk me and I was too selfish. I wanted you here and after five years it was all coming down on me, I think. I should have told you what was bothering me so we could figure it out but I just turned into this horrible bitch to save myself from having to feel anything. This is my fault.”
Orlando looked at her with concern, the tears still streaming down her cheeks, some coming to rest in the corners of the mouth he’d gotten lost in so many times. He leaned in, unable to resist, pressing a soft kiss into one corner and then the other, tasting the salty flavor of her tears.
“We both made mistakes, then,” he offered, softly bringing her into another embrace. “We can fix this. And if things get bad again, we just have to promise each other we’ll talk about it. Can you do that?” He felt her nod against his shoulder and pulled her in tighter. “I love you so much. Just remember, we didn’t think we’d make it a month after you left London, right? And here we are five years later. We’re stronger than we ever dreamed.”
They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, reacquainting themselves with the sensation of being wrapped in each other’s arms. Orlando pulled back first, standing and bringing her up with him. Without
a word, he took her hand and led her out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.
Grace didn’t say anything but wondered what he was doing. Once inside, he grasped her at the waist and hoisted her onto the counter next to the sink. Grabbing a washcloth, he ran the tap, soaking it and wringing it out before bringing it up to her face and gently washing away the tears. His gentle ministrations eased her puffy, red eyes, but she didn’t miss that his free hand had wandered down, under her t-shirt and to her bare waist, his thumb making tiny circles on her abdomen. His every touch seemed to radiate throughout her body. She was feeling her stomach get warmer, as if she had eaten a hot soup or had a cat sleeping on it.
It was only a moment before the washcloth was forgotten and Orlando simply took to caressing the curves and angles of her face with his gentle fingers. Their eyes never left each other, reveling in the fact that it was really the other staring back and not a photograph. His hand finally settled, cupping her cheek while his other hand wandered upwards, brushing the underside of one breast. Orlando exhaled, finally feeling at home again. Not wasting another moment, his head lowered, taking possession of the lips he’d
been denied for so long by circumstance and pride.
Grace whimpered against his mouth, sighing inwardly in relief that he was back in her arms. She savored every moment as his tongue thoroughly reclaimed her as his own, learning her all over again and tangling with
hers. When his mouth left hers, she protested with an unintelligible whisper, but obediently lolled her head back so his lips could explore her jawbone until he reached her ear.
She sucked in a breath as he nipped at her earlobe before drawing it into his mouth, remembering how much she liked that. He worked his way down from ear to her throat, his warm breath sending chills down her spine and then scatting out about her body. He pressed a kiss into the pulse point at the base of her throat, loving the way her hands grasped at his shirt in pleasure. Her breath was coming hard and fast now, not only from his attentions but also from the all the memories flooding her brain.
“I can't wait to see all of you, love," he whispered low against her ear. His hands joined each other at her hips, his fingers grasping the hem of her
t-shirt, pulling it swiftly up and over her head, not caring where it landed. Her hands reached out for him, aching to regain his touch but he just stood back for a moment, taking her in. She blushed under his intense gaze, knowing he’d seen her like this many times before but the feral look in his eyes making her feel more exposed than she’d ever been, like he was looking
through her and into her soul.
A small smile played on his lips as his eyes devoured her body, flushed and vulnerable. Her hair was messy from sleep and her lips were swollen from his assault on them. In her eyes he saw everything he could and would ever want. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on, a thought that always came to him when he looked at her, but even more so
now that he’d just awoken from a nightmare where he thought he’d never see her like this again.
A mischievous smile overtook his features as he reached a single hand out, his fingers playing with her naval piercing. God he loved that little metallic flower peaking out from her belly button. He bit down on his bottom lip as he allowed her seeking hands to draw him back to her. Grace returned his playful grin as her fingers nimbly unbuttoned his shirt and began
to leave trails of goose bumps as she passed them gently over his exposed chest.
He shrugged off his shirt with ease, desperate to feel his skin against hers. He seemed to laugh and growl at the same time, taking hold of one of her hands still exploring him and pressing to his bare chest. "Do you know? You have to know,” he murmured almost to himself.
”Know what?”
“What you do to me," he said, trapping her hand over his heart with his own so she could feel the rapid beat of his heart. She was in his blood; she
always had been. Every move, every touch, every breath just branded her into his heart over and over. It had been so long since the last time he could just reach out and touch her. Her free hand reached up, tangling in his curls and he could hardly believe how intense his craving for her touch was after all these years.
"Jesus," he muttered as he released her hand moving closer to her once again, reaching out to stroke the soft flesh of her breasts. A pleased smile spread across his face as the action drew a breathy moan from her throat. He wanted to touch her everywhere at once and to her it felt like he was. His hands moved up smoothing over her shoulders and down her arms, his
thumbs just barely padding over her nipples, down to her waist and hip and finally to her thighs.
His lips claimed her once again, their tongues massaging each other in a fevered kiss as easily parted her legs. His fingertips grazed gently over
the tops of her thighs, moving closer to where he wanted to be with every stroke. To Grace it felt like forever before his fingers slid into her slowly,
teasing and toying until she was gasping, a sound that always made his blood boil. She clung to him, her head falling back and away from his lips opening her throat to him completely. His tongue laved the spot just below her jaw before he pulled away, desperate to watch the emotions play on her face. “Come on baby,” he whispered, he own voice sounding gravely and foreign to him.
Orlando curved his fingers to apply pressure in just the right spots, moving his thumb to work her hardened clit. “Orli…” He smiled, his name coming off her lips in a rush of air- the most beautiful sound in the world to him. He kissed her once more, lingering only briefly on her lips before he began to work his way down. He free hand curved around the back of her neck eased her backward to lean against the mirror above the counter. Moments later, his mouth replaced his fingers and his gruff chuckle reverberated in her most sensitive places when he heard her gasp.
She was always so soft and responsive. She always knew what he needed and was right there with him. When he needed to take control, she let him and when he wanted to be taken care of, she did. He marveled at the how the mere feel of her hands tangling in his hair made him harder than he ever though possible.
His tongue sought and found her swollen, throbbing clit. Slowly and deliberately, he moved his tongue over it in small, calculated circles, over and around it until she thought she would loose her mind. He drew that swollen bud into his mouth, sucking- gently at first before increasing the pressure.
Her soft, whimpering was driving him crazy. His need to take her was overwhelming him with every little noise she made but he was intent on making her come at least once before he slid into her. Orlando never understood the notion of guys who just took without giving. He always thought that the most incredible part of making love was seeing your partner come undone. Seeing and hearing Grace come only made his own end more intense when it came.
Grace was reeling. She felt tears prick her eyes. It wasn’t just the pleasure he was giving her that was sending her emotions into overload. It was the thought that she had almost lost this. Not the sex. The feeling of being complete. Orlando was in her life again. Her Orlando. Her thoughts were a jumble that eventually dissipated into nothing. She felt it. It was coming and she knew from the way he was increasing his pace and pressure that he knew it too. Every nerve ending in her body was on fire, the
sensations spiraling through her until she thought she’d pass out.
“Orli… I’m…”
Her voice was pleading and who was he to deny her? “Gracie, love,” he murmured against her. “Come for me.”
A moment later, she came, her entire body a trembling mass of sensation. He continued to work her as she rode out her climax. When she settled, he kissed his way back up her body, thrilling in the knowledge that when he reached her mouth, she tasted herself on his lips.
She barely registered the movement as his hands slipped underneath her and he carried her back to the bedroom. By the time he laid her down on the bed, she was fully conscious again and aching for him to be inside her. He settled himself between her legs and her thighs clasped his hips tightly. Her hand wandered down between them and gently but firmly took hold of him. "I need you inside me," she whispered.
Orlando grinned at her breathy tone. He wasn’t about to refuse her. He needed it as well. He ducked his head down to meet her lips, one hand reaching up to grasp her hands above her head. He entered her slowly,
allowing her to guide him, groaning at the fire that radiated through his body as she enveloped him.
He was still for a moment, allowing her to adjust to his size, loving the way she fit perfectly, as though she had been made to be his own matching piece. He was certain she was, in fact, made for him and never intended to let her go again. He began to move slowly, at first, withdrawing almost completely, then filling her up again with a single thrust until he was
buried to the hilt.
Grace’s entire being was focused on this man, her Orlando, her other half. They were the only two people in the world at that moment, their healing
lovemaking the only important thing. Her eyes, which had fallen closed long ago snapped open when she felt him grip her hips, adjusting her, lifting her up until he was hitting every spot he knew to drive her over. So intense was his desire at that moment, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer and he was doing everything he could to bring her there with him.
"That’s it, Gracie," he whispered, his voice ragged and uneven. "I love you so much. Let me see you..."
Her back arched clear off the bed as his words burned into her heart and body. She was hanging on to him as though her life depended on it, her nails nipping at the skin of his back. The fire that was building finally engulfed her and she fell over the edge, the force tearing a strangled cry from her throat.
Orlando leaned down, never missing a stroke as he covered her mouth with his own, needing to feel her kiss as he followed her over. Grace was beside herself as she felt anther wave swelling before the last ever died. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming as they both fell into the void and in love with each other all over again.
*~*~*~*~*
“Orli?”
“Hmm?”
Grace looked up to meet his eyes, her fingers still idly drawing circles on his chest. “Do you really think we can make this work? I never want to hurt you like I did again, but I’m afraid that the distance is going to really destroy us one day.”
Orlando brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes and looked into them intently. “I know we can make this work. We have to. I can’t live my life knowing you’re not mine. We belong together and things aren’t going to always be this way. We are going to have a family some day. You and I are going to grow old together. We’re going to have one of those porch
swings and sit out there watching our grandchildren play in the yard. We are going to have a long beautiful life together and the tough times we have to go through to get there are only going to make it that much sweeter.”
By the time Orlando finished his speech, Grace was in tears. Gone was the bitter woman she’d woke up as that morning and in her place was a women full of hope. “You’ve given this a lot of thought, huh?” she smiled as he wiped away her tears with the pad of him thumb.”
“Every day. It’s that vision I have of my life with you that brought me here today. See, my life doesn’t work without you in it. Even after all this time you still light me on fire and not just my body. No more holding back, Gracie. I’m ready to give you all of me. Can you do the same?”
“I won’t lie to you Orlando. I’m scared. I’m scared were going to end up hurting each other beyond repair. But I know one thing. There hasn’t been a time since the day we met that you haven’t had all of me. I was just stupid and scared and I never told you how much I loved and needed you.”
Orlando pressed a kiss into her forehead and sighed, content in what she’d just told him. It wasn’t until several moments later when they were both on the verge of sleep that he spoke again. “So you’re going to marry me, right?”
“Oh yeah.”
The End.
- 1
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The Fuse