Fic: "Sorrow and Rapture" for dalehead in the 2009 Lotrips Slashababy fic exchange
Title: Sorrow and Rapture
Recipient: dalehead
Author: by koulagirl666
Pairing: Sean Bean/Orlando Bloom, Ian McKellen/Orlando Bloom (implied)
Rating: 15+
Summary: Orlando's just gotten out of hospital and Sean's been waiting for him.
Pre-reveal Notes: Like La traviata, but different. *cough*
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Orlando puts his hand on his chest as he sinks against the wall; the shadows are relief enough from the flashing spotlights for his headache, but they do nothing for the breathlessness and the ache that follows.
"You alright?" someone calls out from the dancefloor, and he nods. It's nothing that codeine won't help, anyway, and he's sure there's something better circulating out there. He just has to wait for it to get around to him. While he's waiting, though, he watches his friends laugh without him. The distance that formed when he was away seems greater; insurmountable, almost. Things happened while he was away that he wasn't a part of; he understands that there are some things he missed out on, but he wishes that it didn't have to hurt so much.
Viggo drags someone over to join him after a few more minutes in which he wishes he could drink and not end up back in hospital.
"Orli! This is Sean. He asked about you every day you were in hospital; I told him to go see you but the wanker never did!"
"You really shouldn't say that word, Vig. Hi Sean!" Orlando has to yell to be heard, and it's almost a relief when Viggo says they should go somewhere quieter. Orlando waves to everyone and follows Sean out; it's his party, but people can celebrate without him a little longer.
>>:<<
Viggo takes them to an all-night café just down the road; it's early enough that it's still quiet, but they don't quite have the place to themselves. They sit by the window, and Orlando stares at the lights outside - headlights on the passing cars, neon advertising lights in shop windows, streetlights. A group of girls walk past and wave their glowsticks at him; he waves back but turns away.
Sean is fairly good looking, all things considered. He's about Orlando's height, or would be if Orlando was standing; he's a bit taller sitting down, because Orlando has stupidly long legs that he thinks he should have grown into by now. He has brownish blond hair, green eyes that seem absurdly clear and which twinkle when he catches Orlando staring, and pale skin.
From the conversation, Orlando can tell that Sean and Viggo are friends from way back; they worked together for a while or something, and so they have all these things in common that predate Orlando being able to vote. He gets to ask the odd question, but mostly he just sits; he orders a meal rather than a sandwich, and when it arrives he busies himself with eating rather than talking.
"Hospital food that bad?" Sean asks, and Orlando just nods. He did actually miss food that didn't come in separate containers, but it's more that the food is a distraction, something to hide behind. Sean isn't just a vague acquaintance; he's an interested friend of a friend, and it's a little unnerving, if Orlando is completely honest with himself.
Viggo excuses himself after a phone call from Elijah, and there's an awkward, oppressing silence before Orlando starts to talk.
"I'm not clumsy just because I broke my back."
It's a stupid thing to say, but Sean just nods.
"I didn't think you were; I was actually there when it happened. Viggo was trying to talk me into asking you out and I thought you'd say no because I'm too old, and I saw you fall just after I'd decided to try."
There's silence again, because Orlando doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn't remember much of that night, but he knows he wasn't at his best. That Sean was there and is here now, and that Sean doesn't just expect him to fit right back in with the dancing and drinking, makes a difference.
"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have brought it up," Sean says eventually, just as Orlando opens his mouth to ask why he's even trying, after seeing that - nobody else would, or did.
"It's okay," he mutters instead, and goes back to the last of his meal. There's not much of it left, and he's playing with it more as an excuse not to talk than because he wants to eat the pieces of beef that he's cutting into tiny pieces.
Sean starts to talk about himself; he's from old money, his dad owns a business that he's supposed to inherit. Something about acting piques Orlando's interest, but Sean dismisses it as something that wouldn't have worked out anyway, though his father stopped payments from Sean's trust fund because of the attempt. Other than that, Orlando starts to think that Sean just sounds like everyone else, except that he works for the money he throws around. He pays for Orlando's meal, just like that, when they leave; Orlando has his hand on his wallet when Sean hands over his debit card and denies Orlando's offer to pay him back.
"You're nice enough to come out with me; it's the least I can do," Sean says, on their way back to the club. Orlando is confronted, again, by that subtle difference between him and everyone else.. He's not attracted to Sean; he's doped up enough that he doubts he could be, or if he'd know if he was, but he is maybe a little curious. He'll have to quiz Viggo, later, when Elijah's crisis is over.
>>:<<
"You should go back to your friends," Sean says, when they've been talking awkwardly outside the club for a while. Orlando shakes his head and keeps playing with a branch of a small tree; the poor thing seems out of place, but apparently it makes the street prettier. Orlando is just grateful that he can lean on it for support, even though standing is easier on his back than sitting in the café had been.
"I don't know that I want to - they probably haven't missed me yet."
"I'm sure they have; you're wonderful company," Sean says, as he takes a card out of his wallet. "I know this might seem a bit presumptuous, but if you want a break from all this while you're recovering, I would love to have you stay with me at my home. It's a fair way out of the city, but it's quiet."
Orlando takes the card and looks at it - it has Sean's number and the name of his father's company. He thinks of his own card and the pager on his belt, and compares it to living away from the city and having to pay for a physio to come out twice a week and being away from all of his friends, as well as Ian's disappointment.
"I'm sorry, Sean; that sounds lovely, but I don't think I could." Sean nods, but the smile on his face fades just a little. "I would love to see you again, though."
A flower from the tree breaks off into his hand, and inspired by memories of the romance movies his mother loves, he feeds the stem through one of the open buttonholes on Sean's shirt. "Come find me when it wilts, and we'll talk again." He kisses Sean's cheek and turns to walk home, alone.
Orlando's pager beeps just after; Ian wants to see him. Orlando steps out into the street and raises his arm to signal a cab. Ian is paying Orlando's medical bills, after all, and Orlando doesn't mind that it comes with this; a few hours now and then of company, when Ian feels lonely. He likes Ian well enough, and he's kind enough to keep Orlando on despite the accident, a few hours is the least that Orlando can give in return. He has the rest of his life to do what he likes, after all, now that he's walking again.
Recipient: dalehead
Author: by koulagirl666
Pairing: Sean Bean/Orlando Bloom, Ian McKellen/Orlando Bloom (implied)
Rating: 15+
Summary: Orlando's just gotten out of hospital and Sean's been waiting for him.
Pre-reveal Notes: Like La traviata, but different. *cough*
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Orlando puts his hand on his chest as he sinks against the wall; the shadows are relief enough from the flashing spotlights for his headache, but they do nothing for the breathlessness and the ache that follows.
"You alright?" someone calls out from the dancefloor, and he nods. It's nothing that codeine won't help, anyway, and he's sure there's something better circulating out there. He just has to wait for it to get around to him. While he's waiting, though, he watches his friends laugh without him. The distance that formed when he was away seems greater; insurmountable, almost. Things happened while he was away that he wasn't a part of; he understands that there are some things he missed out on, but he wishes that it didn't have to hurt so much.
Viggo drags someone over to join him after a few more minutes in which he wishes he could drink and not end up back in hospital.
"Orli! This is Sean. He asked about you every day you were in hospital; I told him to go see you but the wanker never did!"
"You really shouldn't say that word, Vig. Hi Sean!" Orlando has to yell to be heard, and it's almost a relief when Viggo says they should go somewhere quieter. Orlando waves to everyone and follows Sean out; it's his party, but people can celebrate without him a little longer.
>>:<<
Viggo takes them to an all-night café just down the road; it's early enough that it's still quiet, but they don't quite have the place to themselves. They sit by the window, and Orlando stares at the lights outside - headlights on the passing cars, neon advertising lights in shop windows, streetlights. A group of girls walk past and wave their glowsticks at him; he waves back but turns away.
Sean is fairly good looking, all things considered. He's about Orlando's height, or would be if Orlando was standing; he's a bit taller sitting down, because Orlando has stupidly long legs that he thinks he should have grown into by now. He has brownish blond hair, green eyes that seem absurdly clear and which twinkle when he catches Orlando staring, and pale skin.
From the conversation, Orlando can tell that Sean and Viggo are friends from way back; they worked together for a while or something, and so they have all these things in common that predate Orlando being able to vote. He gets to ask the odd question, but mostly he just sits; he orders a meal rather than a sandwich, and when it arrives he busies himself with eating rather than talking.
"Hospital food that bad?" Sean asks, and Orlando just nods. He did actually miss food that didn't come in separate containers, but it's more that the food is a distraction, something to hide behind. Sean isn't just a vague acquaintance; he's an interested friend of a friend, and it's a little unnerving, if Orlando is completely honest with himself.
Viggo excuses himself after a phone call from Elijah, and there's an awkward, oppressing silence before Orlando starts to talk.
"I'm not clumsy just because I broke my back."
It's a stupid thing to say, but Sean just nods.
"I didn't think you were; I was actually there when it happened. Viggo was trying to talk me into asking you out and I thought you'd say no because I'm too old, and I saw you fall just after I'd decided to try."
There's silence again, because Orlando doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn't remember much of that night, but he knows he wasn't at his best. That Sean was there and is here now, and that Sean doesn't just expect him to fit right back in with the dancing and drinking, makes a difference.
"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have brought it up," Sean says eventually, just as Orlando opens his mouth to ask why he's even trying, after seeing that - nobody else would, or did.
"It's okay," he mutters instead, and goes back to the last of his meal. There's not much of it left, and he's playing with it more as an excuse not to talk than because he wants to eat the pieces of beef that he's cutting into tiny pieces.
Sean starts to talk about himself; he's from old money, his dad owns a business that he's supposed to inherit. Something about acting piques Orlando's interest, but Sean dismisses it as something that wouldn't have worked out anyway, though his father stopped payments from Sean's trust fund because of the attempt. Other than that, Orlando starts to think that Sean just sounds like everyone else, except that he works for the money he throws around. He pays for Orlando's meal, just like that, when they leave; Orlando has his hand on his wallet when Sean hands over his debit card and denies Orlando's offer to pay him back.
"You're nice enough to come out with me; it's the least I can do," Sean says, on their way back to the club. Orlando is confronted, again, by that subtle difference between him and everyone else.. He's not attracted to Sean; he's doped up enough that he doubts he could be, or if he'd know if he was, but he is maybe a little curious. He'll have to quiz Viggo, later, when Elijah's crisis is over.
>>:<<
"You should go back to your friends," Sean says, when they've been talking awkwardly outside the club for a while. Orlando shakes his head and keeps playing with a branch of a small tree; the poor thing seems out of place, but apparently it makes the street prettier. Orlando is just grateful that he can lean on it for support, even though standing is easier on his back than sitting in the café had been.
"I don't know that I want to - they probably haven't missed me yet."
"I'm sure they have; you're wonderful company," Sean says, as he takes a card out of his wallet. "I know this might seem a bit presumptuous, but if you want a break from all this while you're recovering, I would love to have you stay with me at my home. It's a fair way out of the city, but it's quiet."
Orlando takes the card and looks at it - it has Sean's number and the name of his father's company. He thinks of his own card and the pager on his belt, and compares it to living away from the city and having to pay for a physio to come out twice a week and being away from all of his friends, as well as Ian's disappointment.
"I'm sorry, Sean; that sounds lovely, but I don't think I could." Sean nods, but the smile on his face fades just a little. "I would love to see you again, though."
A flower from the tree breaks off into his hand, and inspired by memories of the romance movies his mother loves, he feeds the stem through one of the open buttonholes on Sean's shirt. "Come find me when it wilts, and we'll talk again." He kisses Sean's cheek and turns to walk home, alone.
Orlando's pager beeps just after; Ian wants to see him. Orlando steps out into the street and raises his arm to signal a cab. Ian is paying Orlando's medical bills, after all, and Orlando doesn't mind that it comes with this; a few hours now and then of company, when Ian feels lonely. He likes Ian well enough, and he's kind enough to keep Orlando on despite the accident, a few hours is the least that Orlando can give in return. He has the rest of his life to do what he likes, after all, now that he's walking again.