Fic: Sometimes when you dream (6/7)
Title: Sometimes when you dream
Author: Liv
Pairing: VM/OB, OB/SB (implied)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, character death, slight non-con (brief).
Summary: While trying to save the man in his life, Orlando finds himself attracted to another. What will they do when they are all face to face?
Feedback: most encouraged, please, no flames.
Beta-ed by Myr.
Disclaimer: I don’t know the guys; I’m just playing with them in my own fantasy world.
Notes: The fic is set in present day and despite the warnings, it is not dark, but rather adventurous and it has a happy-end.
Chapter 6 - Bereavement
A tall man with a nasty looking gun and an even nastier looking grin was standing just a few feet away. Engrossed in their argument, Sean and Orlando hadn’t heard the others quiet down, nor had they become aware that anyone was approaching. The gun was pointed straight at him and Orlando knew he didn’t have the time to draw his own, even if he had been more adept at using it.
“It’s alright Marton,” Sean said in his best commanding voice, “my husband was just worried about me. When we parted, he seemed to think that he hadn’t left me in very safe hands.”
“Ain’t that right though?” Marton answered. “I figure I kinda owe you for killing Craig over that tasty morsel over there. The guy only wanted a little fun, you didn’t need to kill him for it. And with his own gun too.”
“Craig just wouldn’t learn not to touch what’s mine. Think about it, Marton, you need me. Haven’t I been invaluable for our little operation? You wouldn’t have known by yourself what everything was and how much it was worth, how to preserve it for transport and where to look for more,” Sean reasoned, as he pushed Orlando behind him.
“Can’t argue with you there,” Marton replied. “But we’re finished here, and I don’t feel like sharing our profits with the man who killed my brother. Perhaps, if you let me play with your pretty “husband” over there, I could be persuaded to let you live,” he taunted.
Sean felt Orlando tremble behind him, even as the young man discreetly pushed his own gun into Sean’s hand.
“That’s not going to happen,” Sean answered firmly, pointing his gun at the other man.
“Oh, so your kitten has claws,” Marton laughed. “What are you going to do, shoot me? There’s too many of us and you’re only one man. Well, one and a half,” he added, winking at Orlando.
“I would say three and those are just the ones you can see,” Mortensen added, calmly stepping out from the shadow and pointing his own gun at Marton’s back. The man frowned, not liking his odds, he realized that even if he took out one opponent, the other would still shoot him.
“Seems we are in a quandary,” he finally said. “So, what do you want?” he asked Mortensen, whom he judged as being in charge.
“I was hired to return Mr. Bloom’s husband to his family, which is what I intend to do. So, you let us go peacefully and we do so. I’m not the police, so I don’t care that much about your smuggling operation,” Mortensen stated firmly.
The villain considered the proposition, but Sean cut in before he could answer.
“I’m not leaving without my share,” he said.
Marton turned to look at him with a deprecating smile, “Feel free to drag a few crates through the thick jungle,” he answered. “There is no money for any of us, until we sell the stuff and I think your husband is too worried for your safety to let you wait that long. I suggest you cut your losses and leave while you can.”
“I didn’t go through all this trouble, the secret meetings, lying to my family, breaking the law in a country with very nasty prisons, to walk away empty handed. There a few small pieces worth enough, I will take those,” Sean said angrily.
Orlando came out from behind his husband, so he could speak to him face to face.
“Sean, why are you doing this? This isn’t you, you used to lecture against illegally obtained artifacts disappearing in private collections, instead of being in museums, where they belong. Your passion was part of why I fell in love with you in the first place. How can you be involved in this?” Orlando desperately searched his husband’s face for traces of the man he loved, the man he had come to rescue.
Sean’s stern expression softened and he wrapped his free arm around Orlando’s waist.
“I still believe all of those things, but it’s easier to stick to your principles when you can afford to. We’re broke, Orlando, I just couldn’t bring myself to admit it to you. No more travelling, no private school for Will, I’ve even had to mortgage the estate. I have to give the two of you the life you deserved and this was the only way to do it, short of robbing a bank.”
“You don’t need to do this for me,” Orlando insisted. “Will looks up to you, he wouldn’t want you to do this for money either. Let’s just go home and we’ll find a way to get through this.”
Orlando could see Sean’s conflicting emotions and he hoped that his sense of what was right would be stronger.
Suddenly, there was a gunshot in the clearing, followed by several from the surrounding vegetation. It seemed that one of Mortensen’s men had been discovered and a fire fight had broken out. Marton took advantage to level his gun at Orlando’s turned back, where he stood in his husband’s arms.
Mortensen shouted a warning and fired a shot. It hit the man, bringing him down, but not before Marton pulled the trigger.
Crumbled to the hard ground, his husband a heavy weight on top of him, Orlando thought that he should feel pain. After all, he had been right in the line of fire. The pain didn’t come, instead he felt wetness spreading over his chest, soaking his shirt.
At Mortensen’s warning, Sean had turned sharply, exposing his own back in his attempt to protect Orlando. The bullet had gone through his shoulder, only inches from Orlando’s head.
Orlando disentangled himself and reached out with trembling hands to search for a pulse. It was weak and, for a moment, he almost couldn’t feel anything.
“Sean?” he asked softly, tearing a strip from his shirt to press against the gaping wound. It soaked through nearly instantly and he realized that he couldn’t stop the bleeding.
“Sean, please wake up,” he pleaded. “Don’t leave me alone…”
Sean groaned and opened his eyes. His breathing was labored and blood flowed from the wound with every gasp.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t do a very good job of taking care of you, like I promised.”
“Shhh, don’t speak, you need to save your strength, so we can get you out of here,” Orlando’s voice shook as he tried to contain his tears.
Sean placed his shaking hand over Orlando’s, where the young man pressed against the wound. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, Orlando, I’m loosing too much blood. Please…” he shuddered, “try to spare Will from learning the truth about me and… tell him I love him.”
“You’ll tell him yourself,” Orlando was crying openly now, hardly believing his own words of comfort. There were still gunshots around them, but Orlando didn’t pay them any heed, as he focused on his dying husband.
“Love you,” Sean managed to say, “since the first day I saw you in my class… go home, take Will back to your parents and have a wonderful life. I’m sorry… I can’t be there with you.”
Orlando pressed his lips to his husband’s rapidly cooling ones and whispered back: “I love you.” Then, the body in his arms finally surrendered and grew still.
TBC.
Author: Liv
Pairing: VM/OB, OB/SB (implied)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, character death, slight non-con (brief).
Summary: While trying to save the man in his life, Orlando finds himself attracted to another. What will they do when they are all face to face?
Feedback: most encouraged, please, no flames.
Beta-ed by Myr.
Disclaimer: I don’t know the guys; I’m just playing with them in my own fantasy world.
Notes: The fic is set in present day and despite the warnings, it is not dark, but rather adventurous and it has a happy-end.
Chapter 6 - Bereavement
A tall man with a nasty looking gun and an even nastier looking grin was standing just a few feet away. Engrossed in their argument, Sean and Orlando hadn’t heard the others quiet down, nor had they become aware that anyone was approaching. The gun was pointed straight at him and Orlando knew he didn’t have the time to draw his own, even if he had been more adept at using it.
“It’s alright Marton,” Sean said in his best commanding voice, “my husband was just worried about me. When we parted, he seemed to think that he hadn’t left me in very safe hands.”
“Ain’t that right though?” Marton answered. “I figure I kinda owe you for killing Craig over that tasty morsel over there. The guy only wanted a little fun, you didn’t need to kill him for it. And with his own gun too.”
“Craig just wouldn’t learn not to touch what’s mine. Think about it, Marton, you need me. Haven’t I been invaluable for our little operation? You wouldn’t have known by yourself what everything was and how much it was worth, how to preserve it for transport and where to look for more,” Sean reasoned, as he pushed Orlando behind him.
“Can’t argue with you there,” Marton replied. “But we’re finished here, and I don’t feel like sharing our profits with the man who killed my brother. Perhaps, if you let me play with your pretty “husband” over there, I could be persuaded to let you live,” he taunted.
Sean felt Orlando tremble behind him, even as the young man discreetly pushed his own gun into Sean’s hand.
“That’s not going to happen,” Sean answered firmly, pointing his gun at the other man.
“Oh, so your kitten has claws,” Marton laughed. “What are you going to do, shoot me? There’s too many of us and you’re only one man. Well, one and a half,” he added, winking at Orlando.
“I would say three and those are just the ones you can see,” Mortensen added, calmly stepping out from the shadow and pointing his own gun at Marton’s back. The man frowned, not liking his odds, he realized that even if he took out one opponent, the other would still shoot him.
“Seems we are in a quandary,” he finally said. “So, what do you want?” he asked Mortensen, whom he judged as being in charge.
“I was hired to return Mr. Bloom’s husband to his family, which is what I intend to do. So, you let us go peacefully and we do so. I’m not the police, so I don’t care that much about your smuggling operation,” Mortensen stated firmly.
The villain considered the proposition, but Sean cut in before he could answer.
“I’m not leaving without my share,” he said.
Marton turned to look at him with a deprecating smile, “Feel free to drag a few crates through the thick jungle,” he answered. “There is no money for any of us, until we sell the stuff and I think your husband is too worried for your safety to let you wait that long. I suggest you cut your losses and leave while you can.”
“I didn’t go through all this trouble, the secret meetings, lying to my family, breaking the law in a country with very nasty prisons, to walk away empty handed. There a few small pieces worth enough, I will take those,” Sean said angrily.
Orlando came out from behind his husband, so he could speak to him face to face.
“Sean, why are you doing this? This isn’t you, you used to lecture against illegally obtained artifacts disappearing in private collections, instead of being in museums, where they belong. Your passion was part of why I fell in love with you in the first place. How can you be involved in this?” Orlando desperately searched his husband’s face for traces of the man he loved, the man he had come to rescue.
Sean’s stern expression softened and he wrapped his free arm around Orlando’s waist.
“I still believe all of those things, but it’s easier to stick to your principles when you can afford to. We’re broke, Orlando, I just couldn’t bring myself to admit it to you. No more travelling, no private school for Will, I’ve even had to mortgage the estate. I have to give the two of you the life you deserved and this was the only way to do it, short of robbing a bank.”
“You don’t need to do this for me,” Orlando insisted. “Will looks up to you, he wouldn’t want you to do this for money either. Let’s just go home and we’ll find a way to get through this.”
Orlando could see Sean’s conflicting emotions and he hoped that his sense of what was right would be stronger.
Suddenly, there was a gunshot in the clearing, followed by several from the surrounding vegetation. It seemed that one of Mortensen’s men had been discovered and a fire fight had broken out. Marton took advantage to level his gun at Orlando’s turned back, where he stood in his husband’s arms.
Mortensen shouted a warning and fired a shot. It hit the man, bringing him down, but not before Marton pulled the trigger.
Crumbled to the hard ground, his husband a heavy weight on top of him, Orlando thought that he should feel pain. After all, he had been right in the line of fire. The pain didn’t come, instead he felt wetness spreading over his chest, soaking his shirt.
At Mortensen’s warning, Sean had turned sharply, exposing his own back in his attempt to protect Orlando. The bullet had gone through his shoulder, only inches from Orlando’s head.
Orlando disentangled himself and reached out with trembling hands to search for a pulse. It was weak and, for a moment, he almost couldn’t feel anything.
“Sean?” he asked softly, tearing a strip from his shirt to press against the gaping wound. It soaked through nearly instantly and he realized that he couldn’t stop the bleeding.
“Sean, please wake up,” he pleaded. “Don’t leave me alone…”
Sean groaned and opened his eyes. His breathing was labored and blood flowed from the wound with every gasp.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t do a very good job of taking care of you, like I promised.”
“Shhh, don’t speak, you need to save your strength, so we can get you out of here,” Orlando’s voice shook as he tried to contain his tears.
Sean placed his shaking hand over Orlando’s, where the young man pressed against the wound. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, Orlando, I’m loosing too much blood. Please…” he shuddered, “try to spare Will from learning the truth about me and… tell him I love him.”
“You’ll tell him yourself,” Orlando was crying openly now, hardly believing his own words of comfort. There were still gunshots around them, but Orlando didn’t pay them any heed, as he focused on his dying husband.
“Love you,” Sean managed to say, “since the first day I saw you in my class… go home, take Will back to your parents and have a wonderful life. I’m sorry… I can’t be there with you.”
Orlando pressed his lips to his husband’s rapidly cooling ones and whispered back: “I love you.” Then, the body in his arms finally surrendered and grew still.
TBC.