Compromise (Orlijah) PG
Title: Compromise
Author: moit
Summary: Orlando can't put down the video game controller and Elijah is fed up.
Pairing: Orlando/Elijah
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Angst
Challenge: orlijah_month
Word Count: 1,468
With a great sigh, Elijah pushed his thick glasses up his nose as he surveyed the mess in the kitchen. He'd cleaned it last night, but by the time he woke up, Orlando had managed to cover every surface with a dish or food packaging of some sort. He did not understand how one man could make such a mess or eat so much food in such a short period of time.
He stomped up the stairs and found Orlando, as usual, in the game room playing his Xbox.
"Orlando."
"Yeah?" the other man asked, hardly sparing a glance for Elijah as he fought enemies on screen.
"I cleaned the kitchen last night."
No reply.
"Why is it torn up again?"
"I got hungry," Orlando replied, shrugging one-shouldered.
Elijah glared at the back of his head. "Fine." He turned and stomped back down the stairs.
Orlando paused the game and looked behind him at where Elijah had just stood.
*
Several hours later, Orlando merged from the game room after having beaten the level that was eluding him. He stood up and stretched, feeling his back pop satisfyingly. Sitting on the floor for hours wasn't good for his back, so he tried to keep his video game binges few and far between. The trouble with that was that a binge could last several days.
He wandered downstairs.
"Lij?"
He padded into the kitchen and found it as spotless as it had been last night. "I was going to clean this," he grumbled to himself.
His eyes caught a note on the counter.
Orlando,
Elijah never used his proper name.
Since it has become apparent that you are incapable of cleaning up after yourself, I've done it for you. I went to the store. I'll leave you to your game.
-Elijah
Orlando sat down on one of the kitchen stools, the note in his hand. He felt like a complete arse. He hadn't meant to leave the dishes for Elijah, again, but he just got so caught up in his game.
Since he'd already pissed Elijah off by making him clean the kitchen twice, Orlando vacuumed the living room, cleaned the bathroom, and took out the garbage. He sat down with a cup of tea and realized that several hours had passed since Elijah presumably left.
Orlando dialed Elijah's mobile, but it went straight to voicemail.
"Hey Lij, it's me. I just wanted to make sure you were okay since you've been gone a while." He pressed "end" feeling even more uneasy than before.
His mind wandered to the game upstairs, but he'd feel even worse if Elijah came home and he was still playing. Instead, he placated himself by doing some yoga poses to ease his mind. He always enjoyed doing yoga--tried to do it every day--and it would keep his mind off both Elijiah and the video game. But when he finished what the knew was an hour-long session, Elijjah still wasn't home. Orlando really began to worry.
"Hey babe. It's me again. I'm just calling because I'm starting to get worried. I left you another message and I still haven't heard back from you. Just give me a call to let me know you're alright."
Night fell and the panic really began to set in. Orlando paced in front of their big bay window and jumped at every pair of headlights that flashed across the house. Just when he was about to call the police, Elijah's mother, somebody, his mobile rang.
Lij, the screen read.
"Elijah," Orlando sighed into the phone.
"Actually, it's Josh."
Orlando's heart clenched. "Where's Elijah? Is he okay?"
"He's fine. He's just passed out on the couch, is all. I dug his phone out of his pocket because I figured you'd be worried. He's just going to stay here tonight, so I thought I'd let you know."
"Oh. Okay. Thanks." Orlando clapped his phone shut. He curled up on the couch and tried to fight back the pain that was working its way up through his chest.
He slept in fits and starts. Just as he started to fall asleep, he'd jerk awake. Several times he woke up, looking around confused before remembering that he was on the couch and Elijah wasn't home. Elijah wasn't home. Elijah hadn't slept away from home since they moved in together eight months ago.
At 28 and 24, Orlando and Elijah were more serious about one another than they seemed likely to be, especially considering their hectic lifestyles. To be fair, they'd known one another for seven years, but Elijah was still a teenager when they both relocated to New Zealand to shoot Rings. It was another three years after that before they even got together romantically.
So here they were, four years of dating and eight months of that living together and Elijah had already left their house in anger. Orlando exhaled heavily as he stared at the crown molding on the ceiling of their living room. He kept replaying the events of the last couple days through his mind, each time playing the events in a way the didn't end with Elijah's disappearance.
Around 5, he gave up and got off the couch. His back hurt like hell, but he felt he kind of deserved the pain for how he treated Elijah. Normally, he'd go for a run around 6, but his back hurt so bad he had to lay flat on the floor and breathe deeply just to keep himself from screaming.
"Next time you'll get your lazy arse off the couch, won't you?" he asked himself.
The sound of an engine outside the door made Orlando's heart jump. He tried to get up, but found that moving hurt a lot more than just laying still so he gave up, settling for watching the doorway the best he could with his head tilted back.
A key in the lock and the door opened and shut quietly. Elijah's shoes scuffed along the wood-paneled entryway. The sound of keys hitting the counter.
"Elijah?" Orlando called tentatively.
The sound of footsteps got closer. Elijah's Chuck's, and finally the rest of him, came into view.
"Why are you laying on the floor?" Elijah asked, looking down at Orlando. His tone held an edge of anger. "I thought you'd be out for a run."
"I would, but I slept on the couch last night and my back locked up."
Elijah's face softened. "Babe," he sighed. "Can I do anything?"
Orlando's eyebrows knitted together. "I suppose if you can help me roll over, you could put a hot pack on my lower back. If you don't mind."
"Of course not."
Elijah helped Orlando roll over onto his stomach with only minor difficulty. It still hurt like hell to move at all, but once he got some heat into his back, the muscles would relax and he'd be able to get up.
Elijah situated the heat bag just perfectly on Orlando's back and Orlando sighed in pleasure.
"How's that?" Elijah asked.
"Brilliant," Orlando said, resting his chin on his crossed arms.
"So . . . " Elijah said, sitting down cross-legged next to Orlando.
"I suppose we should talk now, yeah?"
Elijah shrugged. "You're not going anywhere, are you?"
Orlando chuckled. "No, not for the moment." His smile faltered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to clean up after me."
"I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have left like that."
"So we're good?"
"Yeah, we're good," Elijah agreed. He brushed the curls away from Orlando's face and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"I thought . . ." Orlando started. "Nevermind."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"No, what?"
It wasn't like Orlando could get away, anyway. "I thought maybe you were leaving me for Josh."
"Josh?" Elijah guffawed. "Yeah, I'm about as likely to leave you for Josh as you are to leave me for Viggo!"
Orlando huffed a breath through his nose. "I was really worried!"
"I know you were," Elijah said, regaining his composure. He stretched out on the floor next to Orlando and wrapped an arm gently around his waist. He could feel the heat from the bag under his arm. "How's your back?"
"Better." Orlando rubbed his nose against Elijah's cheek. "Much better now that you're home."
"Can you get up yet?"
Orlando lifted his shoulders off the floor. "No, not yet."
"'kay. If I fall asleep, don't blame me."
"Elijah! How do you think my back got messed up in the first place?"
"Okay, fine. As soon as your back feels better, we'll get up and go lay down in bed. If I'm asleep, just wake me."
"I could just leave you down here."
"You sleep better when I'm home."
"Too right, I do," Orlando said, the twinge in his back feeling much less painful with Elijah nestled against his side.
Author: moit
Summary: Orlando can't put down the video game controller and Elijah is fed up.
Pairing: Orlando/Elijah
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Angst
Challenge: orlijah_month
Word Count: 1,468
With a great sigh, Elijah pushed his thick glasses up his nose as he surveyed the mess in the kitchen. He'd cleaned it last night, but by the time he woke up, Orlando had managed to cover every surface with a dish or food packaging of some sort. He did not understand how one man could make such a mess or eat so much food in such a short period of time.
He stomped up the stairs and found Orlando, as usual, in the game room playing his Xbox.
"Orlando."
"Yeah?" the other man asked, hardly sparing a glance for Elijah as he fought enemies on screen.
"I cleaned the kitchen last night."
No reply.
"Why is it torn up again?"
"I got hungry," Orlando replied, shrugging one-shouldered.
Elijah glared at the back of his head. "Fine." He turned and stomped back down the stairs.
Orlando paused the game and looked behind him at where Elijah had just stood.
*
Several hours later, Orlando merged from the game room after having beaten the level that was eluding him. He stood up and stretched, feeling his back pop satisfyingly. Sitting on the floor for hours wasn't good for his back, so he tried to keep his video game binges few and far between. The trouble with that was that a binge could last several days.
He wandered downstairs.
"Lij?"
He padded into the kitchen and found it as spotless as it had been last night. "I was going to clean this," he grumbled to himself.
His eyes caught a note on the counter.
Orlando,
Elijah never used his proper name.
Since it has become apparent that you are incapable of cleaning up after yourself, I've done it for you. I went to the store. I'll leave you to your game.
-Elijah
Orlando sat down on one of the kitchen stools, the note in his hand. He felt like a complete arse. He hadn't meant to leave the dishes for Elijah, again, but he just got so caught up in his game.
Since he'd already pissed Elijah off by making him clean the kitchen twice, Orlando vacuumed the living room, cleaned the bathroom, and took out the garbage. He sat down with a cup of tea and realized that several hours had passed since Elijah presumably left.
Orlando dialed Elijah's mobile, but it went straight to voicemail.
"Hey Lij, it's me. I just wanted to make sure you were okay since you've been gone a while." He pressed "end" feeling even more uneasy than before.
His mind wandered to the game upstairs, but he'd feel even worse if Elijah came home and he was still playing. Instead, he placated himself by doing some yoga poses to ease his mind. He always enjoyed doing yoga--tried to do it every day--and it would keep his mind off both Elijiah and the video game. But when he finished what the knew was an hour-long session, Elijjah still wasn't home. Orlando really began to worry.
"Hey babe. It's me again. I'm just calling because I'm starting to get worried. I left you another message and I still haven't heard back from you. Just give me a call to let me know you're alright."
Night fell and the panic really began to set in. Orlando paced in front of their big bay window and jumped at every pair of headlights that flashed across the house. Just when he was about to call the police, Elijah's mother, somebody, his mobile rang.
Lij, the screen read.
"Elijah," Orlando sighed into the phone.
"Actually, it's Josh."
Orlando's heart clenched. "Where's Elijah? Is he okay?"
"He's fine. He's just passed out on the couch, is all. I dug his phone out of his pocket because I figured you'd be worried. He's just going to stay here tonight, so I thought I'd let you know."
"Oh. Okay. Thanks." Orlando clapped his phone shut. He curled up on the couch and tried to fight back the pain that was working its way up through his chest.
He slept in fits and starts. Just as he started to fall asleep, he'd jerk awake. Several times he woke up, looking around confused before remembering that he was on the couch and Elijah wasn't home. Elijah wasn't home. Elijah hadn't slept away from home since they moved in together eight months ago.
At 28 and 24, Orlando and Elijah were more serious about one another than they seemed likely to be, especially considering their hectic lifestyles. To be fair, they'd known one another for seven years, but Elijah was still a teenager when they both relocated to New Zealand to shoot Rings. It was another three years after that before they even got together romantically.
So here they were, four years of dating and eight months of that living together and Elijah had already left their house in anger. Orlando exhaled heavily as he stared at the crown molding on the ceiling of their living room. He kept replaying the events of the last couple days through his mind, each time playing the events in a way the didn't end with Elijah's disappearance.
Around 5, he gave up and got off the couch. His back hurt like hell, but he felt he kind of deserved the pain for how he treated Elijah. Normally, he'd go for a run around 6, but his back hurt so bad he had to lay flat on the floor and breathe deeply just to keep himself from screaming.
"Next time you'll get your lazy arse off the couch, won't you?" he asked himself.
The sound of an engine outside the door made Orlando's heart jump. He tried to get up, but found that moving hurt a lot more than just laying still so he gave up, settling for watching the doorway the best he could with his head tilted back.
A key in the lock and the door opened and shut quietly. Elijah's shoes scuffed along the wood-paneled entryway. The sound of keys hitting the counter.
"Elijah?" Orlando called tentatively.
The sound of footsteps got closer. Elijah's Chuck's, and finally the rest of him, came into view.
"Why are you laying on the floor?" Elijah asked, looking down at Orlando. His tone held an edge of anger. "I thought you'd be out for a run."
"I would, but I slept on the couch last night and my back locked up."
Elijah's face softened. "Babe," he sighed. "Can I do anything?"
Orlando's eyebrows knitted together. "I suppose if you can help me roll over, you could put a hot pack on my lower back. If you don't mind."
"Of course not."
Elijah helped Orlando roll over onto his stomach with only minor difficulty. It still hurt like hell to move at all, but once he got some heat into his back, the muscles would relax and he'd be able to get up.
Elijah situated the heat bag just perfectly on Orlando's back and Orlando sighed in pleasure.
"How's that?" Elijah asked.
"Brilliant," Orlando said, resting his chin on his crossed arms.
"So . . . " Elijah said, sitting down cross-legged next to Orlando.
"I suppose we should talk now, yeah?"
Elijah shrugged. "You're not going anywhere, are you?"
Orlando chuckled. "No, not for the moment." His smile faltered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to clean up after me."
"I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have left like that."
"So we're good?"
"Yeah, we're good," Elijah agreed. He brushed the curls away from Orlando's face and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"I thought . . ." Orlando started. "Nevermind."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"No, what?"
It wasn't like Orlando could get away, anyway. "I thought maybe you were leaving me for Josh."
"Josh?" Elijah guffawed. "Yeah, I'm about as likely to leave you for Josh as you are to leave me for Viggo!"
Orlando huffed a breath through his nose. "I was really worried!"
"I know you were," Elijah said, regaining his composure. He stretched out on the floor next to Orlando and wrapped an arm gently around his waist. He could feel the heat from the bag under his arm. "How's your back?"
"Better." Orlando rubbed his nose against Elijah's cheek. "Much better now that you're home."
"Can you get up yet?"
Orlando lifted his shoulders off the floor. "No, not yet."
"'kay. If I fall asleep, don't blame me."
"Elijah! How do you think my back got messed up in the first place?"
"Okay, fine. As soon as your back feels better, we'll get up and go lay down in bed. If I'm asleep, just wake me."
"I could just leave you down here."
"You sleep better when I'm home."
"Too right, I do," Orlando said, the twinge in his back feeling much less painful with Elijah nestled against his side.