Lotrips fic: Newspaper Clippings 3/? (Orlijah) PG-13
Fandom: Lotrips
Pairing: Orlijah eventually
Rating: PG-13
Complete: Only in my head.
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, romance
Chapter Summary: Orlando is ready to move in, Elijah is second guessing himself, and when his best friend arrives he realizes he most likely will not get to cleaning his room any time soon.
Author's Note: Dedicated to sparkly_shiny who spent a good couple hours, possibly less, going through every step of this chapter, and what characters will appear in the future, then beta'd the whole thing. You are a true inspiration my love.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Orlando glanced up at Elijah the minute the door was shut, squinting slightly as the light hanging overhead shone brightly into his eyes. “It’s nothing to feel shame about,” he said in a soft voice, although his tone was one of caution.
Elijah pulled back from the half wall, sitting down on the bed he tried to calm himself down by taking deep breaths even as he felt something inside of him begin to fracture.
He didn’t know what he was thinking. Was his mother right?
Moving out, in his mind, had been one of the best things he could do, but what about his chocolate eyed room mate? That was beginning to seem less and less like a good idea.
“You’re not going to toss me out, are you?” Orlando asked, standing at the top of the stairs but not entering the bedroom space yet, his hand resting on the railing.
Elijah looked up at him, seeing no judgment in Orlando’s eyes. He relaxed just a sliver but couldn’t help but think that perhaps that would change over time, “No, but do you want to leave?”
Orlando smiled, the expression flitting across his face and leaving Elijah cold when it left. “No,” he said simply.
Looking down at his hands, Elijah began picking at his nails, and the skin around them unable to look at his new room mate. “How much more stuff do you have?”
“A couple of boxes,” Orlando responded easily, taking the change of conversation and stepping further in. “Is it okay if I spend the night?” he questioned, his tone now one of concern.
Concern.
Elijah was hard pressed to remember a time when some person or other hadn’t been concerned about him, whether it was concern for him, or concern because they worried that they would set him back.
“It’s fine if you do, I’m not going to completely go off the handle and freak out on you,” he said in a bitter voice, blue eyes on the floor now.
Orlando’s room was perfectly clean. He’d already scrubbed it until his hands were sore, then dusted, vacuumed and inspected every nook and cranny. He found himself looking around, as though he was trying to see if he had missed a spot.
“Elijah,” Orlando’s voice was filled with warmth, “my room looks great, thank you for cleaning it for me.”
Elijah’s head jerked up so fast it actually hurt his neck and he found himself looking at the Brit with wide eyes.
“Y-You’re welcome,” he stammered, dragging his hand through his hair, only further messing it up. “I-I mean...”
Orlando smiled at him, and Elijah felt a little of his anxiety slip away.
“It was something you felt compelled to do, am I right?” the Brit asked a moment later, rocking lightly on his heels.
Elijah watched him, and then nodded his head slowly. “Yes, it was. I didn’t...it’s rude to...” He could feel his cheeks heating up and averted his eyes again, standing up slowly.
Orlando studied him for a moment, as though he was considering whether he should continue. It was a look Elijah had seen before, from his best friend Dom and his therapist.
It was a calculating look, without being manipulative.
“What is rude?” Orlando asked finally, the words tumbling out of his mouth slowly and Elijah could feel the other young man’s discomfort.
It was obvious to him that Orlando was used to being open with people, honest, and it was hard for him to not be the same with Elijah.
Elijah could feel his resolve hardening, and he considered his new room mate a test to be taken. He needed to learn how to interact with other personality types, and Orlando Bloom’s personality was vastly different from his own.
“It’s rude to not have a room be clean when someone comes to stay,” he finally responded, chewing on his thumbnail, whimpering softly when he tore away too much and his thumb began to bleed.
Orlando strode forward before he could even process what was happening and took his hand, studying his thumb with a small frown on his face.
“You’ve hurt yourself,” he looked into Elijah’s eyes and Elijah felt his knees go slightly weak. “Do you have a first aid kit?”
Elijah nodded jerkily, swallowing. “In the kitchen,” he answered.
Nodding as well, Orlando led him down the stairs and helped him onto a stool. Opening the kit, he spotted a small package of nitrile gloves. He washed his hands using the soap by the sink and dried his hands on a paper towel, throwing it out in the labelled bin before pulling on a pair.
“Okay?” Orlando asked Elijah, making sure to look him in the eye.
Elijah knew he must have looked like an idiot, the shock at how right Orlando had just done everything leaving him wordless. He managed a nod and held out his thumb, watching as Orlando pulled out the water based wet wipe with the number one on it and wiped the blood away with it, then pulled out the antiseptic wipe labelled two and wiped the small wound with that as well.
“How?” Elijah managed to ask, swallowing heavily as Orlando continued to do everything right.
Orlando smiled, and unlike before this smile was not brief and stayed, although it did fade a bit as he concentrated on opening the small bandage and put it over the wound.
“Psychology,” the taller young man answered finally, hesitancy to his voice.
Elijah was even more stunned then before. Orlando was insecure.
It made him smile, even though he knew it shouldn’t, because this angelic creature was insecure for much the same reasons Elijah was.
Elijah had been worried that Orlando would reject him, because of his disorder and Orlando was now worried that Elijah would in turn reject him because of his chosen profession.
“You must be very smart then,” he observed, hoping his tone of voice was complimentary.
Orlando’s cheeks flushed slightly and he shrugged his shoulders, carefully putting the first aid kit back together and then pushing it to Elijah to check it, closing it when the smaller man nodded and put it back.
“I suppose,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck he glanced up.
Elijah froze, realizing Orlando was standing in between his legs. He found himself staring and tore himself away when there was a knock on the door.
“Oi, you bastard let me in,” Dom’s voice rang through the door.
“My best friend,” Elijah explained at Orlando’s confused look, as he slid off the stool, brushing past his room mate. It took everything in him not to stumble as a feeling of electricity jolted through him and he hurried to the door.
Dom was through the door as soon as it was open and hugged his best friend, lifting him off the ground.
“Welcome to your new home!” He glanced past Elijah at Orlando and pulled back, arching an eyebrow.
Elijah didn’t think he could turn any redder if he tried; in fact he was almost entirely sure he was going to spontaneously combust.
“Dominic Monaghan, this is Orlando Bloom,” Elijah muttered, gesturing between them.
“And who is he when he’s at home?” Dom asked, critically eyeing the taller man, looking him up and down.
“My room mate,” Elijah mumbled, ducking his head.
“Room mate, good on you,” Dom jostled his best friend and strode across the room, grabbing Orlando’s still glove covered hand. He pumped it a few times and clapped him on the shoulder. “Very nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you as well,” Orlando said as he pulled his hand away, looking amused and as he glanced at Elijah there was an expression on his face the blue eyed man couldn’t comprehend.
“Oh, you’re from the Motherland,” Dom observed with a happy smile.
“Yes,” Orlando jerked his head in a nod. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me, I’m spending the night and I’ve got to fetch some of my stuff.” He buttoned his coat and hurried to the door, smiling at Elijah. “Won’t be late,” he didn’t pause until he was out the door.
“‘Lij,” Dom said in a confused voice.
“Yeah?” Elijah responded, distracted by Orlando’s quick departure.
“Why was he wearing gloves?”
Elijah sighed, shrugging his shoulders.
He was never going to get to clean his room.