Talk Show & Driving in Italy
Title::Talk Show & Driving in Italy
Genre::Short Story, Smut
Rating::R
Characters::Ville Valo, Orlando Bloom
Summary:: N/A
Talk Show
"Please, put your hands together for our last musical guest of the night, singer and frontman of the successful Finnish band HIM, Ville Valo!" The audience erupted in applause at the cue, and Ville strode out onto the podium above the stairs. He grinned and waved at the audience before strolling nonchalantly down the steps to the platform in the middle of the studio. Parkinson swivled a little in his chair to watch, his head followed by that of his first guest - Orlando Bloom, famed actor and elf-prince extrordinaire. They watched politely as Ville sang a remix of his song "One Last Time," accompanied by the house band of talented musicians. After the last note of the song finished hanging in the air, everyone applauded politely - some people in the crowd even raucously.
"Thank you, Ville. Please, come take a seat." Ville did as he was bade. "Tell us a little about that song you just sung."
"That song was called One Last Time... its on our album Razorblade Romance."
"You write all of the bands music, don't you? What do you find inspires you."
"Life, really. I draw from my experiences..."
"Must have had some shitty times, eh?" commented Orlando, dryly.
"Yeah, well, what can I say. My life hasn't been a bed of roses."
"As we can see. I mean, most of your songs seem to be about death, and love, and death..."
"Yeah, I've always been strangely fascinated with both of those things. And they just seem to carry some link in my mind that I can't get away from." Ville shrugged.
"I see. But you dont find that it gets a little depressing, always writing about death?"
"I'm a depressed kind of person, Parky. That's what I do."
"I see. So this depression. You wouldn't say it was caused by lack of sunlight, would you? I mean, what's it like, living in FInnland?"
"Cold, I'd imagine," offered Bloom.
"Well, yeah, it's cold. But you get used to cold. And about the sunlight thing - I don't think so, really. I mean, in summer we get a lot of light. I've taken to putting garbage bags over the windows in my apartment to keep the light out."
"Garbage bags?" Parkinson was amused. Orlando laughed, too.
"Sure, why not?"
"Surely it's not the most attractive decor?" asked Parkinson.
"No, but I spend so little time at home that I don't really care."
"Ah yes. Your band is infamous for always being on tour, or in the studios. Why is that?"
"I get bored easily, I have to be doing something or I go crazy."
"And how do you manage it? I mean, it must be hard, 5 young men away from their families and loved ones - how does it affect your relationships?"
"Well, we're all single. It would be hard to juggle a romance on top of all the work we do."
"Isee. So, you don't find yourselves ... turning to each other for romance?" Ville grinned - Orlando leaned back in his chair interestedly.
"Not really. Except maybe Lilly and Migé..." he winked at the camera.
"But we have many spies," said Parkinson playfully, nodding at the camera. Next followed a short reel of pictures of Ville kissing other men. Orlando backed still farther away. Ville shrugged as the camera turned back to him.
"What can I say? No, I just like kissing my friends. I hate this prejudice against males touching males. Why is it hot when women do it but nasty when men do it?"
"So you wouldn't call yourself gay?"
"No."
"Not even the least bit?"
"I don't think so."
"Darn, and I thought I had a chance," said the host, winking.
"I'll call you if I change my mind," said Ville.
"Thanks. But what about you, Orlando? You've already told us how close you are to the guys from Lord of the Rings - did you ever have the urge to kiss them?"
"I can't say that I did, Parky."
"A shame," said Ville. "You're missing out, Bloom!"
"It's a treat that I think I will easily pass up, thanks." Parkinson laughed.
"Anyways, that's all we have time for, I'm afraid. Thanks to my guests, Orlando Bloom and Ville Valo. A pleasure to talk to you both. Here to play you through the credits, it's Jooles Holland. I'm Parkinson and I'm back next week with Demi Moore, Paul Simon and musical guest Dido. Good night!"
Everyone trooped off the stage. Parkinson clapped Ville and Orlando on the back.
"Thanks guys. Great show."
"No problem."
"It was a pleasure." Parkinson said goodbye, and disappeared into his dressing room. Ville turned to Orlando.
"It was nice meeting you. I really admire your work - acting and all that."
"Thanks. I wish I could return the compliment but I honestly had never heard of you before."
"We get that all the time. How about a drink; and I can aquaint you with my work."
"Oh, no, really... I should..." said Orlando, squeamishly.
"Don't lie. You've got nowhere to go. What can it hurt?"
"Alright, but just a short one."
An hour later, Ville and Orlando were situated in a dark, secluded corner of a bar, each with his 4th pint of beer in hand and a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Their conversation had flowed easily, each finding the other vastly different than imagined. After a pause in the talking, Orlando brought up something he'd been waiting to talk about.
"You lied," he said.
"About what?"
"Being gay. You're bloody flaming," said Orlando, his words a little bit slurred.
"Maybe I lied. But only a bit. I guess one would call it "Bi"." Orlando snorted. "You don't approve," observed Ville.
"It's bloody twisted," said Orlando.
"Not really. Don't tell me you've never looked at another man. Come on. Be honest." Ville's low voice coaxed Orlando slowly.
"No, mate, I haven't," said Orlando stubbornly. Ville sat back out of the light that was cast by the dim bulb hanging over the table and crossed his arms. He'd freshly applied eyeliner and his beanie was carefully placed on his black hair. Orlando watched him subtly. In truth, this strange man fascinated him. The way he moved, the way his green eyes constantly laughed to each other at some inside joke. The intricate tatoo on his arm, the faded Rolling Stones shirt, the scarf - the low voice and the accent that was almost flawless except for small breaks of emotion where you could only slightly tell that he wasn't a native - it all made Orlando's head spin. He'd never met anyone like him. Ville watched as Orlando stared at him - because it was staring now. All subtleness was gone, and Orlando was carefully watching every move Ville made while he was lighting another cigarette, taking a swig of beer, and checking the messages on his phone, all the time a slightly confused look played across his slightly lost looking innocent face where several brown curls were falling. Ville chuckled to himself.
"Take me home with you," he said, quietly. Orlando started, recognition and indignation once again on his face.
"I'm not gay," said Orlando stubbornly. Ville leaned forward, back into the light again, and touched Orlando's cheek with his hand.
"Neither am I," he whispered. Orlando backed away, startled. Then he regained his bearings.
"Look, Ville," he said, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes. "You're a nice enough kid but I just..." Fire flared in Ville's eyes, aided swiftly by the alcohol in his veins.
"Shut up, Orlando. Jesus! You know, I thought you were differen't. But you're not. You're all so concerned about the mainstream - I can't like him, that would mean I'm gay. Gay equals bad yada yada yada. God! You can't think for yourself - none of you can! You let them do it for you! I thought you could be more openminded then that. Maybe I'm wasting my time." Ville pushed some money onto the table for his beer and then got up to go. Orlando's timid voice stopped him.
"Stay." Ville took a deep breath and turned around, trying to stare Orlando down. He made little progress. So he sat down expectantly, his hands folded. Orlando's eyes were confused again, but a small smile played across the corners of his lips.
"I'm sorry... Ville, look. I just..." Ville cut him off, suddenly closing in on him and capturing his lips. Orlando made a muffled noise of surprise but Ville nicked at his lip with his teeth in punishment. Finally, Orlando succeeded in pushing Ville off.
"Not here!" he hissed. Ville winked at him and squeezed his hand.
They left the bar soon after, donning dark glasses and hats, and got a cab to Orlando's apartment close by in the fancy part of town. Orlando watched Ville the whole time, his brain in a complete chaos of contradictive thoughts. Ville noticed Orlando's eyes darting around and then landing on him, and then darting around again, and his lips twitched in a smile. It had been entirely too easy to convince him. Ville was in awe of himself and the cham he possesed. Orlando fucking Bloom. He'd seduced Orlando Bloom. That was definately worth something - a medal or something. Although Ville was still confused as to why the other man had consented. Orlando Bloom, heartthrob of teenage girls worldwide! And here he was sitting in a cab with him, Ville Valo, nervously playing with his hands. Ville gave them a reassuring squeeze, finding himself looking into very very deep chocolate colored eyes. His own green ones sparkled and he grinned. Orlando frowned slightly.
"What's funny?"
'You. You're cute."
"Okay..." he pouted a little, and Ville felt his reserve melting. He put his head closer to Orlando's, his eyes searching. Ville kissed Orlando's nose playfully. Orlando closed his eyes, and put his hands on his stomach.
"Orlando? You okay?" His eyes fluttered open.
"What am I doing?" he asked timidly and very unsure. Ville's stomach sank into his beat up chucks.
"Look... if you don't want to... I mean, it's okay..." Ville trailed off, not knowing what to say. He sat back on the other side of the cab, which was driving slowly, due to immense ammounts of traffic. Ville sighed, guessing that the Sex God title would go to someone else for now. Orlando watched him uncomfortably. The cab came to a halt at a red light.
"Well, I guess I'll just um... go..." said Ville, not quite sure what to do. His hand was on the door latch when Orlando snapped back to his sense. He grabbed Ville's hand and pulled him over to himself, pressing his lips firmly against Ville's. Ville started laughing mid-kiss, and it turned into a maniacal cackle.
"What's funny now?"
"You! You're hilarious! Can you ever make up your mind?"
"Yeah. I just did. To hell with the mainstream." He grinned. "You were right, you know."
"I am always right," said Ville proudly, poking Orlando in the stomach. Orlando giggled and felt glad that he hadn't let this slip from between his fingers. He pulled Ville closer to him, letting his hands run over his back while his lips did their damage to Ville's. Ville ran his tongue along Orlando's lips, begging for entry. It was willingly granted. Until the cabbie coughed suggestively. Orlando pulled reluctantly from the kiss, cheeks flushed and hair slightly ruffled by Ville's hands.
"Oh. We're here." He grinned at Ville and tossed the cabbie a wad of cash. "Keep it quiet, will ya?" he asked. The cabbie nodded, shrugged, and drove away, leaving Ville and Orlando standing in an orb of light from the streetlamp outside of a very fancy apartment buliding.
"Welcome to ChezBloom," he said softly against Ville's lips, taking his hands and leading him upstairs and pushing open the door.
The large apartment stretched out infinately before them. Ville gawped.
"This is huge!" he said. "And... clean..." He laughed at the contrast to his own apartment: small and looking like it had been hit by hurricane. Hurricane Ville. He grinned, and pulled Orlando towards him. The other man's breathing was slightly shallow and Ville could tell that he was a little nervous.
"Are you sure?" he asked quietly.
"Dead sure," answered Orlando, holding Ville tight against his chest. Ville could feel the beating of his heart and it was driving him crazy. He kissed him again, passionately. Orlando moaned slightly, running his hands through Ville's hair and across his back, resting them on his ass, pushing him closer ... Ville's jeans were becoming even more uncomfortably tight and his own breath was heavier. Then, suddenly, he laughed again.
"Jesus, Ville, what now?" said Orlando, slightly out of breath, annoyed at having to break the kiss.
"I imagined this..." said Ville, still amused. "When I watched Pirates of the Carribean..." he was out of breath too, and his jeans were becoming unbearable. "I had to tell everyone that Keira was really hot..." Orlando chuckled.
"She was really hot," he reminded Ville.
"Yes. But honestly, I think I prefer this."
"I knew it! I knew you were gay."
"Not gay. I told you already."
"Proove it."
"I really don't feel like it," Ville retorted, kissing him again to shut him up. His hands tugged on the bottom of Orlando's shirt, reaching underneath it to explore his chest. He traced the outline of all the muscles there with light fingertips, causing Orlando to shiver. Orlando lifted his arms up and let Ville pull his shrit off of him. He smiled deviously at the tent in Orlando's pants, and mischeviously slid his hand down to rest on it. Orlando's eyes bulged, and he moaned.
"Oh jesus..." he muttered. Ville's own situation downunder was annoying him and causing him great pain. So he let the pants fall while Orlando stripped him of his shirt - the scarf had been lost somewhere in the taxi. Orlando stared at Ville's flesh, standing there observing him in his boxers/
"You..."
"Don't wear underwear. Have you seen my pants? You try wearing underwear in them!" Orlando shrugged, but took a deep breath, taking everything in. Ville's skinny frame leaned against the wall, watching the boxer clad man watch him.
"Are you alright, Orli?" he asked endearlingly, strutting slowly towards him. Orlando nodded, but unconvincingly. Ville smiled a little, and took Orlando's hand in his own. Ville kissed him swiftly and then kissed each of his fingers, slowly placing it on his chest and leading it gently downwards. Orlando closed his eyes and let Ville guide his hand. Ville gently placed Orlando's hand on his dick and inched a little closer to him. Orlando was taking deep intakes of breath.
"Shh, see? It's okay..." Ville kissed him on the nose again. Orlando smiled and opened his eyes, looking into Ville's, and then tightened his grip against Ville's cock. Ville smiled, pulling Orlando's boxers off and caressing his cock in turn. And then, once again, his reserve broke and he pressed himself wildly against Orlando, kissing him fiercly. Their cocks pressed against each other, their hands roaming all over - Orlando suddenly took control and tackled Ville over to the bed, ending up on top. By instinct he started grinding his crotch against Ville's, causing Ville's eyes to roll back in his head and his hands to grasp Orlando's ass and press his head closer to deepen the kiss.
"Ville?" asked Orlando, panting. "Where do we go from here?" Ville laughed.
"Well. Do you want to or shall I?"
"Do what?"
"Fuck you. Or me..."
"Seriously?"
"Yeeesss... thats how this normally ends." Ville chuckled and kissed him again, reaching down to stroke his dick. He flipped Orlando over so that he was on top and got a firm grasp around his shaft, slowly starting to pump it. Orlando groaned and squirmed, and even screamed when VIlle bent over and took the head of his dick in his mouth, sucking on it slowly. This sent Orlando into ecstasy, and he fought hard not to thrust into Ville's mouthhard. Ville noticed and looked up momentarily.
"Don't fight it," he groaned against Orlando's cock, opening his mouth again and taking all of Orlando's cock into it. Orlando looked down at the man on his dick in amazement, watching him work deliciously slowly, sucking and humming and scraping gently with his teeth... Orlando bucked unwillingly, and moaned Ville's name. Suddenly, Ville's mouth as gone from his dick and on his lips, and he could taste himself on Ville's breath...
"I want you to fuck me, Orlando..." moaned Ville against his lips. "I need you..." Orlando silenced him with a rough, demanding kiss. Ville pushed away and rummaged around in his drawer. He found lube, and a condom. He wanted to do the honors himself, so he slipped the condom slowly over Orlando's throbbing cock, and then smothered it in lube. He shoved the tube of lube at Orlando, who guessed what he meant, flipped him over, and hesitantly smeared it around Ville's hole. He slid a timid finger inside, but at Ville's growl, put another one in with it. He slowly started to fuck Ville with his finger, like he'd done with so many girls, with his other hand on his own cock, slowly stroking it.
"Dammit Orli!" cried Ville, thrusting back against his fingers. Orlando grinned and got the hint. Taking another deep breath, he slid his cock into Ville's ass. It was tighter than any virgin he'd ever fucked, and Ville was crying out in pain by the time he was in to the hilt. Orlando felt a little bad and reached around to join Ville's hand on his own cock, and then started moving it in time with his thrusts. He thrust hard, and far, into Ville, showing no mercy - a little part of him wanting to take revenge, a big part of him wanting, needing this man and all he could give. Ville thrust back onto him in time, and they were moving together - screaming, yelling, moaning... Orlando kissed all the way up Ville's spine, licked all the way down his back. And then he knew he was almost there.
"Ville...." he moaned, "Oh jesus... Ville..." Ville was calling the same thing, saying Orlando's name over and over as his hand moved faster and faster on his cock... and then with a huge scream of "Orlando! Yes!" he came spectacularly all over his own chest and Orlando's hand. Orlando felt Ville's release shudder over his body, and the vibration sent him spinning over the edge.
Ville turned around and Orlando collapsed ontop of him, limp, sweaty, and exhausted. Ville grinned and kissed Orlando's sweaty forhead. Orlando was occupying himself with Ville's creamy neck, kissing it and swirling his tongue over it.
"Thank you," said Ville.
"No problem," said Orlando, grinning. "My pleasure." He kissed Ville's swollen lips, and rolled over onto his side, Ville tightly in his arms, hugged against his heaving chest.
"No regrets, then?"
"None. That was ... amazing. Ville..." he trailed off, twirling Ville's sweaty hair around his fingers.
"Yes?"
"You want to stay? Please?"
"I dunno... I should go..."
"But... I... I really want to get to know you. Better. You know..." he used his hands to elaborate, twirling them around in the air aimlessly.
"Okay," whispered Ville.
"Really?"
"Yeah." Orlando grinned and kissed Ville. Ville laughed inside. For being so abhorent of gays, he was falling pretty quickly into the category himself.
"Ville... one question."
"What?"
"Why did you lie?"
"I didn't really..."
"Oh my god. Yes you did. That was proof. You're fucking flaming. As I said before." Ville shrugged. He'd been caught red-handed.
"You've obviously never met my publisist," he offered as an explaination, rolling over and pressing his face against Orlando's chest, falling quickly asleep in his arms.
Driving in Italy
Orlando whooped as he swung rapidly around a corner, pressing the accelerator down and swerving deftly between all the other speeding cars. Ville sat in the passneger seat, holding onto the handle tightly as Orlando pushed fearlessly into a different makeshift lane. Ville gasped as Orlando sped through a red light, following suit with hte rest of hte drivers.
"Orlando!" he yelled, beginning to fear for his life. The driver responded with another whoop, and then he slammed on the brakes and the horn as another overly competititve driver swerved right into his path. Groaning, Ville looked out the side windows at the red tiled buildings and big pillars that flew past them, and wondered, not for the first time, what he was doing here, in a car on the crazy and suicidal italian roads, with Orlando Bloom signing his death warrant for him.
Ville had met Orlando at a talkshow a few months ago. Talkshows were rare things for Ville, especially English ones, but his publisist had literally dragged him there and thrown him on stage. Sitting there had been Orlando Bloom, and Ville had almost fainted. He'd been in severe awe of Bloom ever since Linde had made him watch Lord of the Rings. Orlando had sneered openly at Ville, but somehow they ended up at a bar in the backstreets of London, and Ville was seducing a very resistant, stubborn, homophobic moviestar. For some reason, Orlando had given in and taken Ville home for the night, where they had some very hot moments. And then, the next morning, when Ville woke up to a very scared and distressed looking Orlando biting at his lip and playing anxiously with his covers, Ville had sighed, kissed Orlando's forehead, and left. He didn't want anythign to do with people who were more worried about their reputation than their own feelings and who were scarted to do anything that might go against the mainstream, no matter what they actually felt about it. He'd left without looking back - and without leaving a phone number. He simply gave up, as was his way. He saw no point in persuing it. Orland owatched him go, relieved but feeling slightly guilty. Ville had attempted, but falied, to put the rendezvous out of his head. It was impossible to escape Orlando - his face grinned up at him from ever magazine; every TV channel worth watching had something about him or his movies or even both at the same time; the world was wrapped up in a serious OBsession and Ville couldn't escape. He thrilled every time he saw the adorable curls and cute smile, wondering if maybe it had all been a dream. Then one day, Ville was innocently flicking channels when Orlando's face popped on screan, and - Ville blinked - wrapped tightly around his wrist was the scarf that Ville thought he'd lost in the taxi the night of their affair. It was about this trinket that Orlando was now talking with the reporter.
"It's the only thing I have left from someone who left, its so I feel like they're always with me." Orlando was fingering Ville's scarf fondly, but Ville noticed, a little annoyed, that he never said the word "he." The next day, the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Ville?"
"Yes... you are?"
"Ville, look, I'm sorry, okay?"
"Orlando?!"
"Yeah..."
"How'd you get my number?"
"My assistant got ahold of the Helsinki phone book." Mental note to self, thought Ville, have phone number unlisted.
"Oh."
"And then I called every Valo I could find, until I got your parent's shop and they gave me your number because you're unlisted." Ah, thought Ville, I thought there was something fishy about finding me in the phonebook. But he was touched nonetheless. Orlando continued.
"And look, I know you're kind of mad at me and stuff but I don't want you to be.. I miss you. I barely know you but I can't get you out of my head ... whatever. I'm flying into Helsinki tomorrow at 8." Ville was speechless.
"You're... what?!"
"Coming to Helsinki. With Dom and Elijah, but that doesn't maatter. I just really want to see you."
"You're coming with who?"
"Dom and Lij, you know, Frodo and Merry?"
"Ah, yes... but..."
"Oh, don't worry. They know all about you and me and... well, whatever. Dom is kind of obsessed with your music, and he really wants to meet you too. Not that that matters..." Ville chuckled. He could hear Orlando's nervousness and wondered just how many of the "Hot Hobbits", as the were known to his girlfriends, were standing behind him, egging him on. It was kind of cute. Ville felt his resentment melt.
The next day, he'd gone to the airport to pick them all up, and was jumped on immediately by an enthusiastic Orlando. Orlando showered him with kisses and hugs until Ville had to forcefully push him away in fear of paparazzi. Dom and Elijah walked slowly over, pushing their carts and laughing loudly at Orlando's antics. Ville grinned at them and shook their hands, noticing that they had to release their hold of each other in order to return the gesture. This realization made him laugh, and feel even more extremely glad that there were no photographers around. He graciously took Orlando's suitcase and his hand and lead the group to his waiting car. He found out later that Orlando's sister had made reservations for the plane etc. to avoid a paparazzi hayday, and Orlando's publisist had arranged a decoy, letting everyone know that he, Dom, and Elijah were planning on a nice holiday in Floriday and were flying out of Heathrow. The three friends had thereupon fled to Gattwick and hopped on a plane. Once again, Ville was touched by the effort Orlando had put in just to see him, although he was still confused as to the motives behind it all.
Ville had kicked all the empty beercans and cigarette butts out of hte guest room for Dom and Elijah, who promptly disappeared into it and didn't come out for a while, although Ville and Orlando heard loud noises and creaks come from under the door. Orlando chuckled.
"They didn't tell me until I told them abut you, but I can't believe I didn't notice it. They aren't very good at keeping secrets." Ville smiled and shrugged it off. He was used to people using his spareroom for such purposes, but he wasn't used to famous - and very hot - moviestars calling him up and then turning up in Finnland the next day.
"Why are you here?" he'd asked Orlando, rather too harshly, after suddenly whirling around from where he was making coffee.
"To see you. Why else?" Ville frowned at him and lit another cigarette.
"Do you know what you're doing?" asked Ville.
"Nope," was the simple reply.
"Do you care?"
"No. I just wanted to see you. So here I am."
"What if someone else sees?"
"They think I'm in Florida for 2 months," said Orlando, shrugging it off.
"2 months?!"
"Yeah. And then I have to go film another movie," he said, pouting a little.
"You want to stay with me for 2 months?!" Orlando nodded. Ville sat down abruptly.
"Unless you don't want me to... Dom and Lij and I can go if you want..." He sounded kind of dissapointed, which Ville liked hearing. So he wrapped his arms around Orlando's waist, kissed his nose, and told him he wasn't going anywhere.
So, Ville aquired 3 semi-permanent houseguests. Linde - a Lord of the Rings addict - refused to believe Ville when he'd called to tell him that he had 2 hobbits in his house and an elf in his bed, but his eyes popped out of his head when he rang Ville's doorbell with the intention of hitting him squarely on back of the head and found himself face to face with Orlando Bloom. He'd screamed like a girl when Elijah and Dom showed up and started cursing Ville out in rapid Finnish for not telling him. A few autographs and reenactments of scenes quietened him down for a while. Orlando had ovciously relinquished his homophobia, Ville suspected with the help of his friends, and seemed honestly not to care about going against the mainstream or even being found out. Ville felt rather proud of him, and they enjoyed every second of their days - and nights - together. Orlando also confessed to Ville what Ville had already suspected the first night they spent together, when his lovemaking was too proficient for a first-timer - Orlando had been with a man before, which Ville teased him about endlessly and called him all kinds of a hypocrite and a liar, even though Orlando protested that he and Johnny had had way too much to drink. But Ville honestly rejoiced in Orlando's company, and began to come out of the shell of depression he'd been encased in. The three visitors got the tour of Helsinki - and all its bars. But Helsinki is not a big place and although they were all kept busy, even Ville was starting to get restless. So, they planned a round trip of Europe, that would lead them all the way down to Italy and then back again - by car. They had a month and a half to do it in, to drive the hundreds of kilometers, stopping wherever Orlando found the opportunity to do one kind of extreme sport of the other in order to satisfy what Ville soon started to call his adrenaline addiction - a backbreaking fall out of a 3rd story window hadn't taught Orlando much else than to live life to the fullest, and Ville found it amusing that for Orlando, this involved putting said life on the line, over, and over, and over again. Ville found himself not completely unsuitable for such activities as rappelling, bungeejumping, paragliding, white-water rafting, etc, but rather reluctant and often scared shitless. Orlando, often enough, would kiss him to soothe the fears and then throw him off the obligitory bridge, cliff, helicopter, or mountain, while Dom and Elijah laughed mercilessly. Ville would come back up to the top with tears of fright in his eyes and an insane craving for a high dose of nicotine, whereupon Orlando promised there would be no more heights, kissed and stroked him better, and then hauled him up higher to do something more dangerous than before. Ville did enjoy himself, but decided that his adrenaline fix would be the stage, and swore that after this excursion there would be no more extreme sports in his way. But, Ville thought, the scariest of them all so far was driving with Orlando through Italy.
Ville snapped out of his reverie when Orlando leaned heavily on the horn. Ville jumped skyhigh but Orlando just laughed. Dom and Elijah had just cut in front of them and Orlando wasn't too happy. Dom looked back and Elijah turned around and blew them a kiss. Ville flicked them off, laughing heartily now that his heart was back in his chest and not his throat. Orlando reached over and took Ville's hand. Ville had to admit that he liked the bold, brave, controlling Orlando that he'd gotten to know over the past month better than the one he'd had to pull out all his tricks on to seduce at first. He grinned at Orlandoand squeezed his hand. Orlando leaned over to kiss him, causing an Italian that had been watching them instead of the road to drive into a wall. Ville and Orlando waved to him as they passed, and he flicked them off in return. They broke into hearty laughter, and Ville squeezed Orlando's thigh as Orlando, following Dom, swerved quickly into the next lane and then pulled a quick U-Turn. In true Italian style, everyone around them slammed hard on their horns and almost all of them gave them the finger.
"Do you know where we are?" asked Ville.
"Not a fucking clue," grinned Orlando. Ville rolled his eyes, and grabbed the handle as they virtually flew onto the highway. Orlando sped up on the big open road, so that they were riding next to Dom and Elijah. Ville highly doubted Dom was paying much attention to the road, he was far more absorbed in what Elijah's hand was doing to the are inbetween his legs. Orlando saw it too, looked over at Ville, and started cracking up. Ville picked up the phone and called Elijah, who stopped his handwork and dug the phone out of his pocket.
"Speak," he said playfully.
"Hello!" cooed Ville, waving out the window. "Having fun?" Elijah looked daggars at him.
"Is there a point to this?" Ville nodded.
"I can do better than that," he boasted, winking at Elijah, and hanging up. He waved at Dom and Lij, who were both staring at him, and unbuckled his seatbelt. Orlando wasn't paying attention and was singing along to the music on the radio, and didn't notice Ville slowly undoing his pants. He was reminiscing, infinately glad that Ville took him back, although back from what, he wasn't sure. But he knew that he was happy, he was long past caring that it was another man that gave him this flying euphoria. He was spreading his wings and soaring endlessly, leaving everything else - all sense and reason - behind in the distance. He broke out of this dream and nearly crashed the into the barrier on the opposite side of the highway when Ville sucked his cock into his warm mouth. Dom and Elijah were wide-eyed in their car and his own eyes were popping out of his head. His fingers had a death grip on the steering wheel. Ville didn't look up when the car swerved again. He just occupied himself with Orlando's dick - he was singing, humming in his low, vibrating voice against Orlando's hard cock and the vibrations went spinning up Orlando's spine. Orlando tried hard to concentrate on the road in front of him. Ville scraped his teeth along the shaft a little, and then sat up, kissed Orlando quickly, and waved at Dom and Elijah, who were too busy staring to realize that they were abotu to take the wrong turn off. Dom wizened up in time to turn sharply back onto the highway leading them out of Italy, on their slow way back home, away from the heat and the beaches and the icecream that tasted like a piece of heaven, frozen and stuck in a waffle cone.
Ville was actually itching to get back to Finnland, although it meant that the dream was almsot over. Only a few people had recognized them, and there had been no intruding flashes for almost 2 months. Ville didn't want to let Orlando go: he'd gotten to know him and found him everythign he'd expected him to be and so much more. But Orlando had to go; being Hollywood's hottest star and most wanted actor came with responsibilites, and he had to fullfill them. Once they got to Finnland, having driven all the way only stopping for food, drink, sleep, and snowboarding in the Swiss Alps, Orlando began to dread leaving more and more. He'd gotten used to Ville's skinny body laying in bed next to him, unconscious from too much alcohol and sex. He loved waking up and having Ville's tatooeed arm wrapped around him in a death grip, as if scared that he'd disappear on the currents of the night. Orlando knew that Ville was troubled, he heard him talking in his sleep. He wanted to stay and hold him forever, so that he wouldn't be afraid of the dark and the demons that came with it. Ville was rarely sober, there was always a cigarette in his mouth, and his nerves had torn his lips to pieces and his fingers to shreds. Orlando was worried, but Ville always acted like there was nothing wrong, so that Orlando did what his mother always told him, and left well enough alone. Ville had his publisist organize a tour, so that he would have an excuse to be near where Orlando was filming. They had a gig in honor of the three guests the night before their plane out the next day. Ville forgot a lot of words, drank a lot of whisky, and smoked a hell of a lot of cigarettes, but Orlando was almost in tears at the end. Only the last few songs did Ville manage to sing properly, almost never loosing eyecontact with Orlando. Lose you tonight, Please Don't Let It Go, The Sacrament, I Love You, and then Love You Like I Do. The last note fell onto a silent crowd - Ville was crying, sobs were being amplified through the room, and noone knew what to do. They all stood, watching, whispering, until Orlando jumped on stage, hugging Ville tightly to him and kissing him deeply. Then he carried him away in his strong arms. THe small crowd in the bar rubbed their eyes, and erupted into cheers. Linde said goodbye and goodnight and then the band trooped slowly off the stage.
Ville couldn't get out of bed the next morning, he was extremely hung over and depressed. Orlando lingered as long as he could in bed, holding Ville close.
"Ville, I have to go," he whispered. Ville nodded slowly. Orlando wasn't used to being the strong one in their relationship, although he could tell he was going to have to start getting used to it. But Ville had always lead him along, taken care of all his worries and doubts, and now he felt out of place. Orlando leaned down and kissed Ville's torn lips. "I'll miss you," he said slowly, softly, following it up with another kiss. To hell with it, he thought. Might as well have it all out. "I love you, Ville." Ville nodded again, and held him tight.
"Love you too" was all he could manage. Dom and Elijah came to pry Orlando away. Ville hugged them both and told them to come back soon. The rest of the band had crashed on the floor; they hugged everyone too and gave Dom a heartagram hoody signed in gold ink to "their famousest and favoritest fan." Dom was reputed never to let this hoody out of his sight for years to come. Ville gave Orlando one last feverish kiss and then they were gone, and Ville had that horrible feeling of water slipping through his hand, never to be seen again. Which was nonsense, he thought, but he couldn't help dreading the months of loneliness to follow. And then, for the first - and last - time, he wished with his entire being that he could go driving with Orlando in Italy again.
Genre::Short Story, Smut
Rating::R
Characters::Ville Valo, Orlando Bloom
Summary:: N/A
Talk Show
"Please, put your hands together for our last musical guest of the night, singer and frontman of the successful Finnish band HIM, Ville Valo!" The audience erupted in applause at the cue, and Ville strode out onto the podium above the stairs. He grinned and waved at the audience before strolling nonchalantly down the steps to the platform in the middle of the studio. Parkinson swivled a little in his chair to watch, his head followed by that of his first guest - Orlando Bloom, famed actor and elf-prince extrordinaire. They watched politely as Ville sang a remix of his song "One Last Time," accompanied by the house band of talented musicians. After the last note of the song finished hanging in the air, everyone applauded politely - some people in the crowd even raucously.
"Thank you, Ville. Please, come take a seat." Ville did as he was bade. "Tell us a little about that song you just sung."
"That song was called One Last Time... its on our album Razorblade Romance."
"You write all of the bands music, don't you? What do you find inspires you."
"Life, really. I draw from my experiences..."
"Must have had some shitty times, eh?" commented Orlando, dryly.
"Yeah, well, what can I say. My life hasn't been a bed of roses."
"As we can see. I mean, most of your songs seem to be about death, and love, and death..."
"Yeah, I've always been strangely fascinated with both of those things. And they just seem to carry some link in my mind that I can't get away from." Ville shrugged.
"I see. But you dont find that it gets a little depressing, always writing about death?"
"I'm a depressed kind of person, Parky. That's what I do."
"I see. So this depression. You wouldn't say it was caused by lack of sunlight, would you? I mean, what's it like, living in FInnland?"
"Cold, I'd imagine," offered Bloom.
"Well, yeah, it's cold. But you get used to cold. And about the sunlight thing - I don't think so, really. I mean, in summer we get a lot of light. I've taken to putting garbage bags over the windows in my apartment to keep the light out."
"Garbage bags?" Parkinson was amused. Orlando laughed, too.
"Sure, why not?"
"Surely it's not the most attractive decor?" asked Parkinson.
"No, but I spend so little time at home that I don't really care."
"Ah yes. Your band is infamous for always being on tour, or in the studios. Why is that?"
"I get bored easily, I have to be doing something or I go crazy."
"And how do you manage it? I mean, it must be hard, 5 young men away from their families and loved ones - how does it affect your relationships?"
"Well, we're all single. It would be hard to juggle a romance on top of all the work we do."
"Isee. So, you don't find yourselves ... turning to each other for romance?" Ville grinned - Orlando leaned back in his chair interestedly.
"Not really. Except maybe Lilly and Migé..." he winked at the camera.
"But we have many spies," said Parkinson playfully, nodding at the camera. Next followed a short reel of pictures of Ville kissing other men. Orlando backed still farther away. Ville shrugged as the camera turned back to him.
"What can I say? No, I just like kissing my friends. I hate this prejudice against males touching males. Why is it hot when women do it but nasty when men do it?"
"So you wouldn't call yourself gay?"
"No."
"Not even the least bit?"
"I don't think so."
"Darn, and I thought I had a chance," said the host, winking.
"I'll call you if I change my mind," said Ville.
"Thanks. But what about you, Orlando? You've already told us how close you are to the guys from Lord of the Rings - did you ever have the urge to kiss them?"
"I can't say that I did, Parky."
"A shame," said Ville. "You're missing out, Bloom!"
"It's a treat that I think I will easily pass up, thanks." Parkinson laughed.
"Anyways, that's all we have time for, I'm afraid. Thanks to my guests, Orlando Bloom and Ville Valo. A pleasure to talk to you both. Here to play you through the credits, it's Jooles Holland. I'm Parkinson and I'm back next week with Demi Moore, Paul Simon and musical guest Dido. Good night!"
Everyone trooped off the stage. Parkinson clapped Ville and Orlando on the back.
"Thanks guys. Great show."
"No problem."
"It was a pleasure." Parkinson said goodbye, and disappeared into his dressing room. Ville turned to Orlando.
"It was nice meeting you. I really admire your work - acting and all that."
"Thanks. I wish I could return the compliment but I honestly had never heard of you before."
"We get that all the time. How about a drink; and I can aquaint you with my work."
"Oh, no, really... I should..." said Orlando, squeamishly.
"Don't lie. You've got nowhere to go. What can it hurt?"
"Alright, but just a short one."
An hour later, Ville and Orlando were situated in a dark, secluded corner of a bar, each with his 4th pint of beer in hand and a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Their conversation had flowed easily, each finding the other vastly different than imagined. After a pause in the talking, Orlando brought up something he'd been waiting to talk about.
"You lied," he said.
"About what?"
"Being gay. You're bloody flaming," said Orlando, his words a little bit slurred.
"Maybe I lied. But only a bit. I guess one would call it "Bi"." Orlando snorted. "You don't approve," observed Ville.
"It's bloody twisted," said Orlando.
"Not really. Don't tell me you've never looked at another man. Come on. Be honest." Ville's low voice coaxed Orlando slowly.
"No, mate, I haven't," said Orlando stubbornly. Ville sat back out of the light that was cast by the dim bulb hanging over the table and crossed his arms. He'd freshly applied eyeliner and his beanie was carefully placed on his black hair. Orlando watched him subtly. In truth, this strange man fascinated him. The way he moved, the way his green eyes constantly laughed to each other at some inside joke. The intricate tatoo on his arm, the faded Rolling Stones shirt, the scarf - the low voice and the accent that was almost flawless except for small breaks of emotion where you could only slightly tell that he wasn't a native - it all made Orlando's head spin. He'd never met anyone like him. Ville watched as Orlando stared at him - because it was staring now. All subtleness was gone, and Orlando was carefully watching every move Ville made while he was lighting another cigarette, taking a swig of beer, and checking the messages on his phone, all the time a slightly confused look played across his slightly lost looking innocent face where several brown curls were falling. Ville chuckled to himself.
"Take me home with you," he said, quietly. Orlando started, recognition and indignation once again on his face.
"I'm not gay," said Orlando stubbornly. Ville leaned forward, back into the light again, and touched Orlando's cheek with his hand.
"Neither am I," he whispered. Orlando backed away, startled. Then he regained his bearings.
"Look, Ville," he said, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes. "You're a nice enough kid but I just..." Fire flared in Ville's eyes, aided swiftly by the alcohol in his veins.
"Shut up, Orlando. Jesus! You know, I thought you were differen't. But you're not. You're all so concerned about the mainstream - I can't like him, that would mean I'm gay. Gay equals bad yada yada yada. God! You can't think for yourself - none of you can! You let them do it for you! I thought you could be more openminded then that. Maybe I'm wasting my time." Ville pushed some money onto the table for his beer and then got up to go. Orlando's timid voice stopped him.
"Stay." Ville took a deep breath and turned around, trying to stare Orlando down. He made little progress. So he sat down expectantly, his hands folded. Orlando's eyes were confused again, but a small smile played across the corners of his lips.
"I'm sorry... Ville, look. I just..." Ville cut him off, suddenly closing in on him and capturing his lips. Orlando made a muffled noise of surprise but Ville nicked at his lip with his teeth in punishment. Finally, Orlando succeeded in pushing Ville off.
"Not here!" he hissed. Ville winked at him and squeezed his hand.
They left the bar soon after, donning dark glasses and hats, and got a cab to Orlando's apartment close by in the fancy part of town. Orlando watched Ville the whole time, his brain in a complete chaos of contradictive thoughts. Ville noticed Orlando's eyes darting around and then landing on him, and then darting around again, and his lips twitched in a smile. It had been entirely too easy to convince him. Ville was in awe of himself and the cham he possesed. Orlando fucking Bloom. He'd seduced Orlando Bloom. That was definately worth something - a medal or something. Although Ville was still confused as to why the other man had consented. Orlando Bloom, heartthrob of teenage girls worldwide! And here he was sitting in a cab with him, Ville Valo, nervously playing with his hands. Ville gave them a reassuring squeeze, finding himself looking into very very deep chocolate colored eyes. His own green ones sparkled and he grinned. Orlando frowned slightly.
"What's funny?"
'You. You're cute."
"Okay..." he pouted a little, and Ville felt his reserve melting. He put his head closer to Orlando's, his eyes searching. Ville kissed Orlando's nose playfully. Orlando closed his eyes, and put his hands on his stomach.
"Orlando? You okay?" His eyes fluttered open.
"What am I doing?" he asked timidly and very unsure. Ville's stomach sank into his beat up chucks.
"Look... if you don't want to... I mean, it's okay..." Ville trailed off, not knowing what to say. He sat back on the other side of the cab, which was driving slowly, due to immense ammounts of traffic. Ville sighed, guessing that the Sex God title would go to someone else for now. Orlando watched him uncomfortably. The cab came to a halt at a red light.
"Well, I guess I'll just um... go..." said Ville, not quite sure what to do. His hand was on the door latch when Orlando snapped back to his sense. He grabbed Ville's hand and pulled him over to himself, pressing his lips firmly against Ville's. Ville started laughing mid-kiss, and it turned into a maniacal cackle.
"What's funny now?"
"You! You're hilarious! Can you ever make up your mind?"
"Yeah. I just did. To hell with the mainstream." He grinned. "You were right, you know."
"I am always right," said Ville proudly, poking Orlando in the stomach. Orlando giggled and felt glad that he hadn't let this slip from between his fingers. He pulled Ville closer to him, letting his hands run over his back while his lips did their damage to Ville's. Ville ran his tongue along Orlando's lips, begging for entry. It was willingly granted. Until the cabbie coughed suggestively. Orlando pulled reluctantly from the kiss, cheeks flushed and hair slightly ruffled by Ville's hands.
"Oh. We're here." He grinned at Ville and tossed the cabbie a wad of cash. "Keep it quiet, will ya?" he asked. The cabbie nodded, shrugged, and drove away, leaving Ville and Orlando standing in an orb of light from the streetlamp outside of a very fancy apartment buliding.
"Welcome to ChezBloom," he said softly against Ville's lips, taking his hands and leading him upstairs and pushing open the door.
The large apartment stretched out infinately before them. Ville gawped.
"This is huge!" he said. "And... clean..." He laughed at the contrast to his own apartment: small and looking like it had been hit by hurricane. Hurricane Ville. He grinned, and pulled Orlando towards him. The other man's breathing was slightly shallow and Ville could tell that he was a little nervous.
"Are you sure?" he asked quietly.
"Dead sure," answered Orlando, holding Ville tight against his chest. Ville could feel the beating of his heart and it was driving him crazy. He kissed him again, passionately. Orlando moaned slightly, running his hands through Ville's hair and across his back, resting them on his ass, pushing him closer ... Ville's jeans were becoming even more uncomfortably tight and his own breath was heavier. Then, suddenly, he laughed again.
"Jesus, Ville, what now?" said Orlando, slightly out of breath, annoyed at having to break the kiss.
"I imagined this..." said Ville, still amused. "When I watched Pirates of the Carribean..." he was out of breath too, and his jeans were becoming unbearable. "I had to tell everyone that Keira was really hot..." Orlando chuckled.
"She was really hot," he reminded Ville.
"Yes. But honestly, I think I prefer this."
"I knew it! I knew you were gay."
"Not gay. I told you already."
"Proove it."
"I really don't feel like it," Ville retorted, kissing him again to shut him up. His hands tugged on the bottom of Orlando's shirt, reaching underneath it to explore his chest. He traced the outline of all the muscles there with light fingertips, causing Orlando to shiver. Orlando lifted his arms up and let Ville pull his shrit off of him. He smiled deviously at the tent in Orlando's pants, and mischeviously slid his hand down to rest on it. Orlando's eyes bulged, and he moaned.
"Oh jesus..." he muttered. Ville's own situation downunder was annoying him and causing him great pain. So he let the pants fall while Orlando stripped him of his shirt - the scarf had been lost somewhere in the taxi. Orlando stared at Ville's flesh, standing there observing him in his boxers/
"You..."
"Don't wear underwear. Have you seen my pants? You try wearing underwear in them!" Orlando shrugged, but took a deep breath, taking everything in. Ville's skinny frame leaned against the wall, watching the boxer clad man watch him.
"Are you alright, Orli?" he asked endearlingly, strutting slowly towards him. Orlando nodded, but unconvincingly. Ville smiled a little, and took Orlando's hand in his own. Ville kissed him swiftly and then kissed each of his fingers, slowly placing it on his chest and leading it gently downwards. Orlando closed his eyes and let Ville guide his hand. Ville gently placed Orlando's hand on his dick and inched a little closer to him. Orlando was taking deep intakes of breath.
"Shh, see? It's okay..." Ville kissed him on the nose again. Orlando smiled and opened his eyes, looking into Ville's, and then tightened his grip against Ville's cock. Ville smiled, pulling Orlando's boxers off and caressing his cock in turn. And then, once again, his reserve broke and he pressed himself wildly against Orlando, kissing him fiercly. Their cocks pressed against each other, their hands roaming all over - Orlando suddenly took control and tackled Ville over to the bed, ending up on top. By instinct he started grinding his crotch against Ville's, causing Ville's eyes to roll back in his head and his hands to grasp Orlando's ass and press his head closer to deepen the kiss.
"Ville?" asked Orlando, panting. "Where do we go from here?" Ville laughed.
"Well. Do you want to or shall I?"
"Do what?"
"Fuck you. Or me..."
"Seriously?"
"Yeeesss... thats how this normally ends." Ville chuckled and kissed him again, reaching down to stroke his dick. He flipped Orlando over so that he was on top and got a firm grasp around his shaft, slowly starting to pump it. Orlando groaned and squirmed, and even screamed when VIlle bent over and took the head of his dick in his mouth, sucking on it slowly. This sent Orlando into ecstasy, and he fought hard not to thrust into Ville's mouthhard. Ville noticed and looked up momentarily.
"Don't fight it," he groaned against Orlando's cock, opening his mouth again and taking all of Orlando's cock into it. Orlando looked down at the man on his dick in amazement, watching him work deliciously slowly, sucking and humming and scraping gently with his teeth... Orlando bucked unwillingly, and moaned Ville's name. Suddenly, Ville's mouth as gone from his dick and on his lips, and he could taste himself on Ville's breath...
"I want you to fuck me, Orlando..." moaned Ville against his lips. "I need you..." Orlando silenced him with a rough, demanding kiss. Ville pushed away and rummaged around in his drawer. He found lube, and a condom. He wanted to do the honors himself, so he slipped the condom slowly over Orlando's throbbing cock, and then smothered it in lube. He shoved the tube of lube at Orlando, who guessed what he meant, flipped him over, and hesitantly smeared it around Ville's hole. He slid a timid finger inside, but at Ville's growl, put another one in with it. He slowly started to fuck Ville with his finger, like he'd done with so many girls, with his other hand on his own cock, slowly stroking it.
"Dammit Orli!" cried Ville, thrusting back against his fingers. Orlando grinned and got the hint. Taking another deep breath, he slid his cock into Ville's ass. It was tighter than any virgin he'd ever fucked, and Ville was crying out in pain by the time he was in to the hilt. Orlando felt a little bad and reached around to join Ville's hand on his own cock, and then started moving it in time with his thrusts. He thrust hard, and far, into Ville, showing no mercy - a little part of him wanting to take revenge, a big part of him wanting, needing this man and all he could give. Ville thrust back onto him in time, and they were moving together - screaming, yelling, moaning... Orlando kissed all the way up Ville's spine, licked all the way down his back. And then he knew he was almost there.
"Ville...." he moaned, "Oh jesus... Ville..." Ville was calling the same thing, saying Orlando's name over and over as his hand moved faster and faster on his cock... and then with a huge scream of "Orlando! Yes!" he came spectacularly all over his own chest and Orlando's hand. Orlando felt Ville's release shudder over his body, and the vibration sent him spinning over the edge.
Ville turned around and Orlando collapsed ontop of him, limp, sweaty, and exhausted. Ville grinned and kissed Orlando's sweaty forhead. Orlando was occupying himself with Ville's creamy neck, kissing it and swirling his tongue over it.
"Thank you," said Ville.
"No problem," said Orlando, grinning. "My pleasure." He kissed Ville's swollen lips, and rolled over onto his side, Ville tightly in his arms, hugged against his heaving chest.
"No regrets, then?"
"None. That was ... amazing. Ville..." he trailed off, twirling Ville's sweaty hair around his fingers.
"Yes?"
"You want to stay? Please?"
"I dunno... I should go..."
"But... I... I really want to get to know you. Better. You know..." he used his hands to elaborate, twirling them around in the air aimlessly.
"Okay," whispered Ville.
"Really?"
"Yeah." Orlando grinned and kissed Ville. Ville laughed inside. For being so abhorent of gays, he was falling pretty quickly into the category himself.
"Ville... one question."
"What?"
"Why did you lie?"
"I didn't really..."
"Oh my god. Yes you did. That was proof. You're fucking flaming. As I said before." Ville shrugged. He'd been caught red-handed.
"You've obviously never met my publisist," he offered as an explaination, rolling over and pressing his face against Orlando's chest, falling quickly asleep in his arms.
Driving in Italy
Orlando whooped as he swung rapidly around a corner, pressing the accelerator down and swerving deftly between all the other speeding cars. Ville sat in the passneger seat, holding onto the handle tightly as Orlando pushed fearlessly into a different makeshift lane. Ville gasped as Orlando sped through a red light, following suit with hte rest of hte drivers.
"Orlando!" he yelled, beginning to fear for his life. The driver responded with another whoop, and then he slammed on the brakes and the horn as another overly competititve driver swerved right into his path. Groaning, Ville looked out the side windows at the red tiled buildings and big pillars that flew past them, and wondered, not for the first time, what he was doing here, in a car on the crazy and suicidal italian roads, with Orlando Bloom signing his death warrant for him.
Ville had met Orlando at a talkshow a few months ago. Talkshows were rare things for Ville, especially English ones, but his publisist had literally dragged him there and thrown him on stage. Sitting there had been Orlando Bloom, and Ville had almost fainted. He'd been in severe awe of Bloom ever since Linde had made him watch Lord of the Rings. Orlando had sneered openly at Ville, but somehow they ended up at a bar in the backstreets of London, and Ville was seducing a very resistant, stubborn, homophobic moviestar. For some reason, Orlando had given in and taken Ville home for the night, where they had some very hot moments. And then, the next morning, when Ville woke up to a very scared and distressed looking Orlando biting at his lip and playing anxiously with his covers, Ville had sighed, kissed Orlando's forehead, and left. He didn't want anythign to do with people who were more worried about their reputation than their own feelings and who were scarted to do anything that might go against the mainstream, no matter what they actually felt about it. He'd left without looking back - and without leaving a phone number. He simply gave up, as was his way. He saw no point in persuing it. Orland owatched him go, relieved but feeling slightly guilty. Ville had attempted, but falied, to put the rendezvous out of his head. It was impossible to escape Orlando - his face grinned up at him from ever magazine; every TV channel worth watching had something about him or his movies or even both at the same time; the world was wrapped up in a serious OBsession and Ville couldn't escape. He thrilled every time he saw the adorable curls and cute smile, wondering if maybe it had all been a dream. Then one day, Ville was innocently flicking channels when Orlando's face popped on screan, and - Ville blinked - wrapped tightly around his wrist was the scarf that Ville thought he'd lost in the taxi the night of their affair. It was about this trinket that Orlando was now talking with the reporter.
"It's the only thing I have left from someone who left, its so I feel like they're always with me." Orlando was fingering Ville's scarf fondly, but Ville noticed, a little annoyed, that he never said the word "he." The next day, the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Ville?"
"Yes... you are?"
"Ville, look, I'm sorry, okay?"
"Orlando?!"
"Yeah..."
"How'd you get my number?"
"My assistant got ahold of the Helsinki phone book." Mental note to self, thought Ville, have phone number unlisted.
"Oh."
"And then I called every Valo I could find, until I got your parent's shop and they gave me your number because you're unlisted." Ah, thought Ville, I thought there was something fishy about finding me in the phonebook. But he was touched nonetheless. Orlando continued.
"And look, I know you're kind of mad at me and stuff but I don't want you to be.. I miss you. I barely know you but I can't get you out of my head ... whatever. I'm flying into Helsinki tomorrow at 8." Ville was speechless.
"You're... what?!"
"Coming to Helsinki. With Dom and Elijah, but that doesn't maatter. I just really want to see you."
"You're coming with who?"
"Dom and Lij, you know, Frodo and Merry?"
"Ah, yes... but..."
"Oh, don't worry. They know all about you and me and... well, whatever. Dom is kind of obsessed with your music, and he really wants to meet you too. Not that that matters..." Ville chuckled. He could hear Orlando's nervousness and wondered just how many of the "Hot Hobbits", as the were known to his girlfriends, were standing behind him, egging him on. It was kind of cute. Ville felt his resentment melt.
The next day, he'd gone to the airport to pick them all up, and was jumped on immediately by an enthusiastic Orlando. Orlando showered him with kisses and hugs until Ville had to forcefully push him away in fear of paparazzi. Dom and Elijah walked slowly over, pushing their carts and laughing loudly at Orlando's antics. Ville grinned at them and shook their hands, noticing that they had to release their hold of each other in order to return the gesture. This realization made him laugh, and feel even more extremely glad that there were no photographers around. He graciously took Orlando's suitcase and his hand and lead the group to his waiting car. He found out later that Orlando's sister had made reservations for the plane etc. to avoid a paparazzi hayday, and Orlando's publisist had arranged a decoy, letting everyone know that he, Dom, and Elijah were planning on a nice holiday in Floriday and were flying out of Heathrow. The three friends had thereupon fled to Gattwick and hopped on a plane. Once again, Ville was touched by the effort Orlando had put in just to see him, although he was still confused as to the motives behind it all.
Ville had kicked all the empty beercans and cigarette butts out of hte guest room for Dom and Elijah, who promptly disappeared into it and didn't come out for a while, although Ville and Orlando heard loud noises and creaks come from under the door. Orlando chuckled.
"They didn't tell me until I told them abut you, but I can't believe I didn't notice it. They aren't very good at keeping secrets." Ville smiled and shrugged it off. He was used to people using his spareroom for such purposes, but he wasn't used to famous - and very hot - moviestars calling him up and then turning up in Finnland the next day.
"Why are you here?" he'd asked Orlando, rather too harshly, after suddenly whirling around from where he was making coffee.
"To see you. Why else?" Ville frowned at him and lit another cigarette.
"Do you know what you're doing?" asked Ville.
"Nope," was the simple reply.
"Do you care?"
"No. I just wanted to see you. So here I am."
"What if someone else sees?"
"They think I'm in Florida for 2 months," said Orlando, shrugging it off.
"2 months?!"
"Yeah. And then I have to go film another movie," he said, pouting a little.
"You want to stay with me for 2 months?!" Orlando nodded. Ville sat down abruptly.
"Unless you don't want me to... Dom and Lij and I can go if you want..." He sounded kind of dissapointed, which Ville liked hearing. So he wrapped his arms around Orlando's waist, kissed his nose, and told him he wasn't going anywhere.
So, Ville aquired 3 semi-permanent houseguests. Linde - a Lord of the Rings addict - refused to believe Ville when he'd called to tell him that he had 2 hobbits in his house and an elf in his bed, but his eyes popped out of his head when he rang Ville's doorbell with the intention of hitting him squarely on back of the head and found himself face to face with Orlando Bloom. He'd screamed like a girl when Elijah and Dom showed up and started cursing Ville out in rapid Finnish for not telling him. A few autographs and reenactments of scenes quietened him down for a while. Orlando had ovciously relinquished his homophobia, Ville suspected with the help of his friends, and seemed honestly not to care about going against the mainstream or even being found out. Ville felt rather proud of him, and they enjoyed every second of their days - and nights - together. Orlando also confessed to Ville what Ville had already suspected the first night they spent together, when his lovemaking was too proficient for a first-timer - Orlando had been with a man before, which Ville teased him about endlessly and called him all kinds of a hypocrite and a liar, even though Orlando protested that he and Johnny had had way too much to drink. But Ville honestly rejoiced in Orlando's company, and began to come out of the shell of depression he'd been encased in. The three visitors got the tour of Helsinki - and all its bars. But Helsinki is not a big place and although they were all kept busy, even Ville was starting to get restless. So, they planned a round trip of Europe, that would lead them all the way down to Italy and then back again - by car. They had a month and a half to do it in, to drive the hundreds of kilometers, stopping wherever Orlando found the opportunity to do one kind of extreme sport of the other in order to satisfy what Ville soon started to call his adrenaline addiction - a backbreaking fall out of a 3rd story window hadn't taught Orlando much else than to live life to the fullest, and Ville found it amusing that for Orlando, this involved putting said life on the line, over, and over, and over again. Ville found himself not completely unsuitable for such activities as rappelling, bungeejumping, paragliding, white-water rafting, etc, but rather reluctant and often scared shitless. Orlando, often enough, would kiss him to soothe the fears and then throw him off the obligitory bridge, cliff, helicopter, or mountain, while Dom and Elijah laughed mercilessly. Ville would come back up to the top with tears of fright in his eyes and an insane craving for a high dose of nicotine, whereupon Orlando promised there would be no more heights, kissed and stroked him better, and then hauled him up higher to do something more dangerous than before. Ville did enjoy himself, but decided that his adrenaline fix would be the stage, and swore that after this excursion there would be no more extreme sports in his way. But, Ville thought, the scariest of them all so far was driving with Orlando through Italy.
Ville snapped out of his reverie when Orlando leaned heavily on the horn. Ville jumped skyhigh but Orlando just laughed. Dom and Elijah had just cut in front of them and Orlando wasn't too happy. Dom looked back and Elijah turned around and blew them a kiss. Ville flicked them off, laughing heartily now that his heart was back in his chest and not his throat. Orlando reached over and took Ville's hand. Ville had to admit that he liked the bold, brave, controlling Orlando that he'd gotten to know over the past month better than the one he'd had to pull out all his tricks on to seduce at first. He grinned at Orlandoand squeezed his hand. Orlando leaned over to kiss him, causing an Italian that had been watching them instead of the road to drive into a wall. Ville and Orlando waved to him as they passed, and he flicked them off in return. They broke into hearty laughter, and Ville squeezed Orlando's thigh as Orlando, following Dom, swerved quickly into the next lane and then pulled a quick U-Turn. In true Italian style, everyone around them slammed hard on their horns and almost all of them gave them the finger.
"Do you know where we are?" asked Ville.
"Not a fucking clue," grinned Orlando. Ville rolled his eyes, and grabbed the handle as they virtually flew onto the highway. Orlando sped up on the big open road, so that they were riding next to Dom and Elijah. Ville highly doubted Dom was paying much attention to the road, he was far more absorbed in what Elijah's hand was doing to the are inbetween his legs. Orlando saw it too, looked over at Ville, and started cracking up. Ville picked up the phone and called Elijah, who stopped his handwork and dug the phone out of his pocket.
"Speak," he said playfully.
"Hello!" cooed Ville, waving out the window. "Having fun?" Elijah looked daggars at him.
"Is there a point to this?" Ville nodded.
"I can do better than that," he boasted, winking at Elijah, and hanging up. He waved at Dom and Lij, who were both staring at him, and unbuckled his seatbelt. Orlando wasn't paying attention and was singing along to the music on the radio, and didn't notice Ville slowly undoing his pants. He was reminiscing, infinately glad that Ville took him back, although back from what, he wasn't sure. But he knew that he was happy, he was long past caring that it was another man that gave him this flying euphoria. He was spreading his wings and soaring endlessly, leaving everything else - all sense and reason - behind in the distance. He broke out of this dream and nearly crashed the into the barrier on the opposite side of the highway when Ville sucked his cock into his warm mouth. Dom and Elijah were wide-eyed in their car and his own eyes were popping out of his head. His fingers had a death grip on the steering wheel. Ville didn't look up when the car swerved again. He just occupied himself with Orlando's dick - he was singing, humming in his low, vibrating voice against Orlando's hard cock and the vibrations went spinning up Orlando's spine. Orlando tried hard to concentrate on the road in front of him. Ville scraped his teeth along the shaft a little, and then sat up, kissed Orlando quickly, and waved at Dom and Elijah, who were too busy staring to realize that they were abotu to take the wrong turn off. Dom wizened up in time to turn sharply back onto the highway leading them out of Italy, on their slow way back home, away from the heat and the beaches and the icecream that tasted like a piece of heaven, frozen and stuck in a waffle cone.
Ville was actually itching to get back to Finnland, although it meant that the dream was almsot over. Only a few people had recognized them, and there had been no intruding flashes for almost 2 months. Ville didn't want to let Orlando go: he'd gotten to know him and found him everythign he'd expected him to be and so much more. But Orlando had to go; being Hollywood's hottest star and most wanted actor came with responsibilites, and he had to fullfill them. Once they got to Finnland, having driven all the way only stopping for food, drink, sleep, and snowboarding in the Swiss Alps, Orlando began to dread leaving more and more. He'd gotten used to Ville's skinny body laying in bed next to him, unconscious from too much alcohol and sex. He loved waking up and having Ville's tatooeed arm wrapped around him in a death grip, as if scared that he'd disappear on the currents of the night. Orlando knew that Ville was troubled, he heard him talking in his sleep. He wanted to stay and hold him forever, so that he wouldn't be afraid of the dark and the demons that came with it. Ville was rarely sober, there was always a cigarette in his mouth, and his nerves had torn his lips to pieces and his fingers to shreds. Orlando was worried, but Ville always acted like there was nothing wrong, so that Orlando did what his mother always told him, and left well enough alone. Ville had his publisist organize a tour, so that he would have an excuse to be near where Orlando was filming. They had a gig in honor of the three guests the night before their plane out the next day. Ville forgot a lot of words, drank a lot of whisky, and smoked a hell of a lot of cigarettes, but Orlando was almost in tears at the end. Only the last few songs did Ville manage to sing properly, almost never loosing eyecontact with Orlando. Lose you tonight, Please Don't Let It Go, The Sacrament, I Love You, and then Love You Like I Do. The last note fell onto a silent crowd - Ville was crying, sobs were being amplified through the room, and noone knew what to do. They all stood, watching, whispering, until Orlando jumped on stage, hugging Ville tightly to him and kissing him deeply. Then he carried him away in his strong arms. THe small crowd in the bar rubbed their eyes, and erupted into cheers. Linde said goodbye and goodnight and then the band trooped slowly off the stage.
Ville couldn't get out of bed the next morning, he was extremely hung over and depressed. Orlando lingered as long as he could in bed, holding Ville close.
"Ville, I have to go," he whispered. Ville nodded slowly. Orlando wasn't used to being the strong one in their relationship, although he could tell he was going to have to start getting used to it. But Ville had always lead him along, taken care of all his worries and doubts, and now he felt out of place. Orlando leaned down and kissed Ville's torn lips. "I'll miss you," he said slowly, softly, following it up with another kiss. To hell with it, he thought. Might as well have it all out. "I love you, Ville." Ville nodded again, and held him tight.
"Love you too" was all he could manage. Dom and Elijah came to pry Orlando away. Ville hugged them both and told them to come back soon. The rest of the band had crashed on the floor; they hugged everyone too and gave Dom a heartagram hoody signed in gold ink to "their famousest and favoritest fan." Dom was reputed never to let this hoody out of his sight for years to come. Ville gave Orlando one last feverish kiss and then they were gone, and Ville had that horrible feeling of water slipping through his hand, never to be seen again. Which was nonsense, he thought, but he couldn't help dreading the months of loneliness to follow. And then, for the first - and last - time, he wished with his entire being that he could go driving with Orlando in Italy again.