[FIC] Of All the Places in the World (Actor RPS OB/HC)
Title: Of All the Places in the World
By: freedomfry
Genre: Lotrips RPS (Appearances by most of the hobbits, leading to Orlando Bloom/Hayden Christensen. What? Stop looking at me like that! I can feel you judging me from here.)
Rating: Probably worksafe, as I still cannot write explicit slash. There's some cursing, though.
Disclaimer: Wow did this not happen. Ever. But it would've been pretty if it had…
Feedback: is cherished and adored
A/N: A long time ago, there was Attack of the Hobbit Mafia, and it was silly, silly fun. And then iseult_variante said that there should be a follow-up to it. And today is my rockstar of a beta, casapazzo's birthday. And so there was birthday fic. Um, unbetaed birthday fic.
Dom laughed so hard he shot beer out his nose. "No. Fucking. Way," he finally choked out, looking from Elijah to Billy for confirmation.
Billy's eyes sparkled with glee. "Every word of it's true," he said. "We were on the phone with Astin, if you doubt our version of the tale." He looked at Orlando, who had slid so far down the bench he had practically crawled under the table the four of them were seated around. "And if Orli's reaction isn't enough to prove that it happened."
Dom wiped tears from his eyes and tried to catch his breath. "Shit, man. Chatting up Hayden 'Darth Vader' Christensen in a bar is good enough. Thinking he was a bird makes it fucking priceless."
"I hate you all," Orlando said with conviction, banging his head on the bottom of the table and nearly tipping over Elijah's beer.
"I wish I'd been there," Dom said, reaching across the table to rescue Elijah's drink and taking a swig out of it. Elijah glared at him, then swapped Dom's empty pint glass for Orlando's mostly full one. Orlando sat up and looked in surprise at his empty glass. He glanced around the table and met three carefully composed faces. He stood up. "Guess it's my round, then? Two beers and a whisky, right?"
"Ta, Orlando," Billy said, lifting his glass. As soon as Orlando was out of earshot, the three burst into laughter. Elijah looked at Billy and Dom and asked, "You think he'll ever notice he's the only one buying drinks?"
Billy shook his head. "He hasn't in seven years. Why would he start now?"
"Point."
Orlando came back holding three pints in his arms and a glass of whisky perched precariously on top of them. Billy stood up and relieved Orlando of the whisky with a stern look. "Never threaten the whisky, boy. Haven't I taught you better than that?"
"The beers are too heavy to balance on top of each other," Orlando protested.
"And two trips would kill you?" Billy shot back.
Orlando distributed the rest of the drinks, and then flopped back onto the bench. "Yes. Yes, it would kill me." He looked at Billy. "Taking two trips would take me out of earshot of Dom for, you know, five minutes, and in that time he could come up with a thousand ways to kill me."
Dom looked smug. "It's true."
Elijah snickered. "And then Dom would be the only one trying to pick people up by claiming to be Orlando Bloom."
Orlando furrowed his brows. "You've tried to pull by saying you were me?" He looked Dom up and down slowly and smirked. "How'd that work for you?"
"Well, I've never pulled a Jedi Knight, if that's what you mean," Dom retorted. "But I've never been so drunk I couldn't tell male from female, either."
"Except for that one time," Billy pointed out.
Dom turned toward him. "Well, yeah. But that didn't count."
"Oh, right," Billy said, nodding. "She was dressed like a Rohirrim and all."
"Exactly," Dom said. "Besides," he said, holding up a hand at Elijah, who seemed eager to interrupt, "it's a very old story, not remotely interesting, and not nearly as humiliating to Orli." He looked across the table at Orlando and grinned. "Which is what this night is all about, after all." Dom rested his head in one hand and gestured expansively with the other. "Now, Orli, set the stage for us. Paint us a picture."
Orlando glared at him and took a sip from his glass. "You've just heard Billy and Elijah tell the story. I'm not telling it to you again."
"But I won't see you for weeks," Dom said. "After months of also not seeing you. I have to get in all the Orli-mocking I can before you finally crack and set your bodyguard on me."
"Don't think I haven't been tempted."
Dom turned from Orlando. "Since the Elf won't play, there's really no other choice." He stood up and took a few steps from the table. "Bills, you get to be Christensen. I'll be Bloom."
Dom tossed back imaginary curls and minced over to them all, eyebrows waggling outrageously. He tapped Billy on the shoulder and leered, "Hello. I'm Orlando Bloom. You may remember me from such films as Lord of the Rings, Pirates of the Caribbean and, um, that one with the gay Greeks. Troy."
Elijah made a buzzing sound. "No Troy McClure impressions."
Dom smiled. "Okay, trying again." He backed away, tossed his imaginary hair again and approached. "Hello, I'm Orlando Bloom. What's a beautiful woman like you doing up by the bar all by herself?"
"You great stupid bastard, I'm no lassie!" Billy replied.
Dom frowned. "Christensen's Canadian, Billy. He wouldn't sound like that." He walked away from the table. "Take three."
Orlando put his head back down on the table and sighed. It was going to be another very long night.
Orlando's next two weeks passed in a flashbulb-filled blur. When he finally stumbled back into his apartment in LA, he had a script full of Pirates dialogue to memorize in less than two days, a suitcase full of dirty laundry, and no food in the fridge.
He poked at a yogurt container he didn't even remember buying and sighed. Throwing it into the trash bin and hoping he remembered to take it out before he got on the next plane, he walked over to where the answering machine's red light was blinking with unheard messages.
"You have 28 new messages," the machine's monotone informed him. Orlando began flipping through the stack of envelopes that had piled up in his absence, dividing his attention between tossing aside Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstake junk mail ("O.J. Blom, you may have already won $25,000!") and an increasingly random stream of voicemail.
The first dozen-"Dude (Looks Like A Lady)" in forty-five second snippets-he had been expecting. The next few-drunk people thinking they were ordering take-away from some Indian fast food joint-were obviously not for him.
He frowned down at the padded envelope in his hand, his address written in Dom's distinctly illegible handwriting, just as Dom's voice came over the machine. "You should've apologized to Vader, man," he snickered. "He's going after you in the press now." Elijah's voice piped in. "We'll mail you a copy of it, just in case you missed it. You should've sent flowers or chocolates or a card or something."
"Does Hallmark make a 'sorry I thought you were a woman?' card?" Dom asked.
"Hallmark makes a card for…"
"But if they don't…"
"Dude! I just had the greatest idea!"
The rest of the message, made up of insane hobbit giggling, cut off. Orlando rolled his eyes and shook the contents of the envelope onto the table in front of him. There, as promised, was the press clipping where Hayden said that he, unlike Orlando, wasn't prepared to give up his integrity. Orlando snorted. He was fairly sure that anyone with more than one action figure of his likeness could pretty much give up any argument about making movies entirely for the art of acting.
There were also a series of Polaroids featuring-Orlando leaned forward and frowned-toys from Kinder Eggs. Specifically, a tiny molded Legolas and what seemed to be a hippo dressed as Darth Vader. He flipped the first photo over. Elijah had written: We were going to use actual action figures but Dom refused to break his out of the boxes. Anyway. Enjoy our sad tale of crossover misunderstanding.
Orlando flipped through the photos and laughed. Tiny plastic Legolas kept giving the hippo Darth Vader presents, only to be flung across the room by Sharpied-in Force lightning.
Dom and Elijah really needed to find another hobby.
And Orlando really needed to find something to eat. He picked up his script, jammed a green baseball cap on his head--Hollywood code for "don’t bother me"--and headed to a hole in the wall of a Japanese place nearby.
He sat down at the bar, ordered green tea and waited for something interesting to go past on the sushi bar's conveyor belt.
"Damn," the guy next to him muttered. "Would you mind snagging me the edamame? I totally missed them."
Orlando smiled and reached for the bowl in front of him. "Not a problem," he said, passing the food over. He found himself looking into a pair of familiar blue eyes.
Of all the places in the world… Orlando thought with a groan.
Hayden did a double take. "Shit."
Orlando tried not to wince. "Hi," he said.
"Not thinking I'm a woman again, are you?" Hayden asked, his tone biting.
Orlando stared down at the table. "Um. No. And I'm really sorry about that whole thing. I'd had a few too many drinks and everything had gotten kind of blurry."
Hayden glared at him. "Do I look stupid?"
"Oh, like you've never gotten drunk and done something you regret?" Orlando retorted.
Hayden's cheeks flushed and he stabbed viciously at a piece of sushi with his chopsticks. "I've never gotten my fucking genders confused." He slanted his eyes at Orlando. "When I hit on a guy, I damn well know it."
Orlando was proud that he didn't shoot tea out his nose. The coughing fit couldn’t be avoided, though. "Good to know," he choked out.
Hayden glanced at the script Orlando had been about to read. "Let me guess. A bleak coming-of-age story set in the frozen tundra of, I don't know, Greenland. Three hundred years ago. Directed by Ang Lee."
Orlando snorted. "The next Pirates, actually."
Hayden poked at his sushi. "Figures."
Orlando raised an eyebrow. "It's not like I get to face off in a lightsaber battle against Ewan McGregor or anything, but it's a living."
"The writing's got to be better than what George had us saying," Hayden muttered.
"There are fortune cookies out there with better writing than what George had you saying," Orlando said.
Hayden glared. "I don't think Mr. 'A Diversion' has a lot of room to be mocking."
Orlando grinned. "I have just one word for you-"
"If that word is 'NoooooOOOOOOooooo,' I swear to God I will poke one of your eyes out with these chopsticks and you'll be doing pirate movies for the rest of your life."
"Pirate movies are working out pretty well for me right now," Orlando said with a smirk, "but I'd rather not be all method about it."
Hayden laughed. "I'd rather not have to move to some remote part of northern Alberta to avoid the wrath of your teenyboppers. Change my name." He shuddered. "Become a monk or something. It'd be terrible."
"That would be terrible," Orlando agreed. "And, really, sorry about the misunderstanding." He smiled. "How can I make it up to you?"
Hayden smiled back. "Buy me a drink?"
One drink turned into many, many drinks.
And the world had gone kind of blurry again for Orlando. But not blurry enough that he didn't know exactly who he had pushed up against the wall outside the sushi restaurant. Who he was kissing within an inch of his life.
Damn right, Dom never pulled a Jedi Knight.
***
By: freedomfry
Genre: Lotrips RPS (Appearances by most of the hobbits, leading to Orlando Bloom/Hayden Christensen. What? Stop looking at me like that! I can feel you judging me from here.)
Rating: Probably worksafe, as I still cannot write explicit slash. There's some cursing, though.
Disclaimer: Wow did this not happen. Ever. But it would've been pretty if it had…
Feedback: is cherished and adored
A/N: A long time ago, there was Attack of the Hobbit Mafia, and it was silly, silly fun. And then iseult_variante said that there should be a follow-up to it. And today is my rockstar of a beta, casapazzo's birthday. And so there was birthday fic. Um, unbetaed birthday fic.
Dom laughed so hard he shot beer out his nose. "No. Fucking. Way," he finally choked out, looking from Elijah to Billy for confirmation.
Billy's eyes sparkled with glee. "Every word of it's true," he said. "We were on the phone with Astin, if you doubt our version of the tale." He looked at Orlando, who had slid so far down the bench he had practically crawled under the table the four of them were seated around. "And if Orli's reaction isn't enough to prove that it happened."
Dom wiped tears from his eyes and tried to catch his breath. "Shit, man. Chatting up Hayden 'Darth Vader' Christensen in a bar is good enough. Thinking he was a bird makes it fucking priceless."
"I hate you all," Orlando said with conviction, banging his head on the bottom of the table and nearly tipping over Elijah's beer.
"I wish I'd been there," Dom said, reaching across the table to rescue Elijah's drink and taking a swig out of it. Elijah glared at him, then swapped Dom's empty pint glass for Orlando's mostly full one. Orlando sat up and looked in surprise at his empty glass. He glanced around the table and met three carefully composed faces. He stood up. "Guess it's my round, then? Two beers and a whisky, right?"
"Ta, Orlando," Billy said, lifting his glass. As soon as Orlando was out of earshot, the three burst into laughter. Elijah looked at Billy and Dom and asked, "You think he'll ever notice he's the only one buying drinks?"
Billy shook his head. "He hasn't in seven years. Why would he start now?"
"Point."
Orlando came back holding three pints in his arms and a glass of whisky perched precariously on top of them. Billy stood up and relieved Orlando of the whisky with a stern look. "Never threaten the whisky, boy. Haven't I taught you better than that?"
"The beers are too heavy to balance on top of each other," Orlando protested.
"And two trips would kill you?" Billy shot back.
Orlando distributed the rest of the drinks, and then flopped back onto the bench. "Yes. Yes, it would kill me." He looked at Billy. "Taking two trips would take me out of earshot of Dom for, you know, five minutes, and in that time he could come up with a thousand ways to kill me."
Dom looked smug. "It's true."
Elijah snickered. "And then Dom would be the only one trying to pick people up by claiming to be Orlando Bloom."
Orlando furrowed his brows. "You've tried to pull by saying you were me?" He looked Dom up and down slowly and smirked. "How'd that work for you?"
"Well, I've never pulled a Jedi Knight, if that's what you mean," Dom retorted. "But I've never been so drunk I couldn't tell male from female, either."
"Except for that one time," Billy pointed out.
Dom turned toward him. "Well, yeah. But that didn't count."
"Oh, right," Billy said, nodding. "She was dressed like a Rohirrim and all."
"Exactly," Dom said. "Besides," he said, holding up a hand at Elijah, who seemed eager to interrupt, "it's a very old story, not remotely interesting, and not nearly as humiliating to Orli." He looked across the table at Orlando and grinned. "Which is what this night is all about, after all." Dom rested his head in one hand and gestured expansively with the other. "Now, Orli, set the stage for us. Paint us a picture."
Orlando glared at him and took a sip from his glass. "You've just heard Billy and Elijah tell the story. I'm not telling it to you again."
"But I won't see you for weeks," Dom said. "After months of also not seeing you. I have to get in all the Orli-mocking I can before you finally crack and set your bodyguard on me."
"Don't think I haven't been tempted."
Dom turned from Orlando. "Since the Elf won't play, there's really no other choice." He stood up and took a few steps from the table. "Bills, you get to be Christensen. I'll be Bloom."
Dom tossed back imaginary curls and minced over to them all, eyebrows waggling outrageously. He tapped Billy on the shoulder and leered, "Hello. I'm Orlando Bloom. You may remember me from such films as Lord of the Rings, Pirates of the Caribbean and, um, that one with the gay Greeks. Troy."
Elijah made a buzzing sound. "No Troy McClure impressions."
Dom smiled. "Okay, trying again." He backed away, tossed his imaginary hair again and approached. "Hello, I'm Orlando Bloom. What's a beautiful woman like you doing up by the bar all by herself?"
"You great stupid bastard, I'm no lassie!" Billy replied.
Dom frowned. "Christensen's Canadian, Billy. He wouldn't sound like that." He walked away from the table. "Take three."
Orlando put his head back down on the table and sighed. It was going to be another very long night.
Orlando's next two weeks passed in a flashbulb-filled blur. When he finally stumbled back into his apartment in LA, he had a script full of Pirates dialogue to memorize in less than two days, a suitcase full of dirty laundry, and no food in the fridge.
He poked at a yogurt container he didn't even remember buying and sighed. Throwing it into the trash bin and hoping he remembered to take it out before he got on the next plane, he walked over to where the answering machine's red light was blinking with unheard messages.
"You have 28 new messages," the machine's monotone informed him. Orlando began flipping through the stack of envelopes that had piled up in his absence, dividing his attention between tossing aside Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstake junk mail ("O.J. Blom, you may have already won $25,000!") and an increasingly random stream of voicemail.
The first dozen-"Dude (Looks Like A Lady)" in forty-five second snippets-he had been expecting. The next few-drunk people thinking they were ordering take-away from some Indian fast food joint-were obviously not for him.
He frowned down at the padded envelope in his hand, his address written in Dom's distinctly illegible handwriting, just as Dom's voice came over the machine. "You should've apologized to Vader, man," he snickered. "He's going after you in the press now." Elijah's voice piped in. "We'll mail you a copy of it, just in case you missed it. You should've sent flowers or chocolates or a card or something."
"Does Hallmark make a 'sorry I thought you were a woman?' card?" Dom asked.
"Hallmark makes a card for…"
"But if they don't…"
"Dude! I just had the greatest idea!"
The rest of the message, made up of insane hobbit giggling, cut off. Orlando rolled his eyes and shook the contents of the envelope onto the table in front of him. There, as promised, was the press clipping where Hayden said that he, unlike Orlando, wasn't prepared to give up his integrity. Orlando snorted. He was fairly sure that anyone with more than one action figure of his likeness could pretty much give up any argument about making movies entirely for the art of acting.
There were also a series of Polaroids featuring-Orlando leaned forward and frowned-toys from Kinder Eggs. Specifically, a tiny molded Legolas and what seemed to be a hippo dressed as Darth Vader. He flipped the first photo over. Elijah had written: We were going to use actual action figures but Dom refused to break his out of the boxes. Anyway. Enjoy our sad tale of crossover misunderstanding.
Orlando flipped through the photos and laughed. Tiny plastic Legolas kept giving the hippo Darth Vader presents, only to be flung across the room by Sharpied-in Force lightning.
Dom and Elijah really needed to find another hobby.
And Orlando really needed to find something to eat. He picked up his script, jammed a green baseball cap on his head--Hollywood code for "don’t bother me"--and headed to a hole in the wall of a Japanese place nearby.
He sat down at the bar, ordered green tea and waited for something interesting to go past on the sushi bar's conveyor belt.
"Damn," the guy next to him muttered. "Would you mind snagging me the edamame? I totally missed them."
Orlando smiled and reached for the bowl in front of him. "Not a problem," he said, passing the food over. He found himself looking into a pair of familiar blue eyes.
Of all the places in the world… Orlando thought with a groan.
Hayden did a double take. "Shit."
Orlando tried not to wince. "Hi," he said.
"Not thinking I'm a woman again, are you?" Hayden asked, his tone biting.
Orlando stared down at the table. "Um. No. And I'm really sorry about that whole thing. I'd had a few too many drinks and everything had gotten kind of blurry."
Hayden glared at him. "Do I look stupid?"
"Oh, like you've never gotten drunk and done something you regret?" Orlando retorted.
Hayden's cheeks flushed and he stabbed viciously at a piece of sushi with his chopsticks. "I've never gotten my fucking genders confused." He slanted his eyes at Orlando. "When I hit on a guy, I damn well know it."
Orlando was proud that he didn't shoot tea out his nose. The coughing fit couldn’t be avoided, though. "Good to know," he choked out.
Hayden glanced at the script Orlando had been about to read. "Let me guess. A bleak coming-of-age story set in the frozen tundra of, I don't know, Greenland. Three hundred years ago. Directed by Ang Lee."
Orlando snorted. "The next Pirates, actually."
Hayden poked at his sushi. "Figures."
Orlando raised an eyebrow. "It's not like I get to face off in a lightsaber battle against Ewan McGregor or anything, but it's a living."
"The writing's got to be better than what George had us saying," Hayden muttered.
"There are fortune cookies out there with better writing than what George had you saying," Orlando said.
Hayden glared. "I don't think Mr. 'A Diversion' has a lot of room to be mocking."
Orlando grinned. "I have just one word for you-"
"If that word is 'NoooooOOOOOOooooo,' I swear to God I will poke one of your eyes out with these chopsticks and you'll be doing pirate movies for the rest of your life."
"Pirate movies are working out pretty well for me right now," Orlando said with a smirk, "but I'd rather not be all method about it."
Hayden laughed. "I'd rather not have to move to some remote part of northern Alberta to avoid the wrath of your teenyboppers. Change my name." He shuddered. "Become a monk or something. It'd be terrible."
"That would be terrible," Orlando agreed. "And, really, sorry about the misunderstanding." He smiled. "How can I make it up to you?"
Hayden smiled back. "Buy me a drink?"
One drink turned into many, many drinks.
And the world had gone kind of blurry again for Orlando. But not blurry enough that he didn't know exactly who he had pushed up against the wall outside the sushi restaurant. Who he was kissing within an inch of his life.
Damn right, Dom never pulled a Jedi Knight.
***