Fic: Bare Essentials (2/2) VM/OB
ETA: Once again I have posted carelessly, and I apologise. I'd also like to note that all mistakes are solely mine and noone else's.
Title: Bare Essentials (2/2)
Author: laeglass
Pairing: VM/OB
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Just a dream and a lie, nothing more. No offence or harm intended to anyone.
Feedback: Yes, please.
A/N: Beta-read by namarie120, whose input and suggestions helped in making this story a better one, and banner by the very talented mesnica; thank you both so much! *hugs* Here's part two, as I promised.
“Orlando? Still with me?” Lucy's voice had acquired a sharp edge, something it tended to do when she got particularly annoyed with something.
“Sorry, what did you say?” Orlando asked, suppressing a yawn and trying to look attentive.
His boss was going away for the rest of the week and was trying to give him orders about what to do while she was away, but Orlando's mind wandered, again. It seemed that nowadays his concentration was shot to hell; all he could think of was when he would see Viggo again, and when he could touch him again. The previous night they had met again, and this time it had been Orlando's turn to get mind-blowing head, after which he willingly reciprocated. Viggo had asked again about his mask, but Orlando, no, Jon, had given him the same answer as before: ”Sorry, I can't.” So far Viggo had been content with it, but if their relationship continued to proceed at this pace, he'd soon begin to ask questions which Orlando wouldn't be able to answer. Too much was at stake here.
“I was saying that since I won't be here, someone else will have to represent our department at the company meetings,” Lucy repeated. “Which is why Mr. Mortensen will be coming here a lot while I'm away. Our departments overlap after all, and from what I've understood he's a real stand-up guy. I want you to help him in any way you can. And try not to be a total bother, okay? I know you get a bit clumsy sometimes but there's no need for him to find out about that. Let him think that we're real professionals around here, okay Orlando?”
Refusing to let her snide words embarrass him, Orlando simply nodded. “Of course. We met here the other day and he seemed really nice, I'm sure it'll be a pleasure to work under him.”
Lucy seemed surprised at the lack of fluster in his voice. “That's good to hear. We also talked a bit during our lunch and I'm very confident I can leave the place in his hands for the next few days. Just try not to mess anything up; he's from the States after all and probably won't put up with any incompetency on your part. They're very particular about things like that.”
“I'll bear that in mind,” Orlando said, tongue firmly planted in cheek. “Would you like me to get you a coffee before you leave to the airport? I could quickly get you something from the cafeteria.”
Lucy Craven smiled a pleased smile. It seemed that the Bloom kid was growing up to be a proper assistant, after all. For some reason he'd always got on her nerves a little (she suspected it was because he was so beautiful and so totally unavailable for her), and the mean streak in her often wanted to tease him a little, watch him get fidgety and lose it, but perhaps the boy was finally growing into his skin.
”It's okay, I'll get something at the airport. And Orlando? Try to remember, life's not all about work. You're still young, live a little. I'd rather have you coming late one morning than watch you moping around all day, okay?”
Orlando had to collect his proverbial jaw from the floor. “Sure thing,” he said. “Have a safe flight.”
* * *
Viggo's fingers raised his chin so that Orlando would meet his eyes. “What's wrong? You've been a bit quiet all evening.”
“Sorry, got a lot on my mind,” Orlando said lamely.
He was starting to question whether he should end this charade here and now. There was absolutely no way he could work closely with Viggo without him finally connecting the dots. He would've given anything to be able to lose his mask and just be Orlando, and still have Viggo accept him and still like him, but the pretence had been going on for so long that he didn't think confessing would be such a good idea. At best, Viggo would be offended at his betrayal; at worst, he'd refuse to see Orlando outside of the office anymore, thus ending what was starting to build between them.
Orlando had found himself opening up to the an extent he'd never had done before, but he always had to be mindful of his words and what he chose to reveal. Some of Viggo's questions were easier to evade, some harder, and it frustrated him to no end not to be able to tell all that was on his mind. Viggo, however, had opened his heart to Orlando, and in one of their post-orgasmic cuddles he'd confessed that leaving Henry in the States was the hardest thing he'd ever done and made him feel like a complete failure as a father, even if his choice made his son happy and was really the right decision in the end.
He had also told of his marriage which had finally come to an official end, even though it had been dead for years. Viggo's wife had wanted to stay married until their son was old enough to understand, and he had considered it a small enough sacrifice; but when he'd gotten the job offer from London they realised there was no sense in postponing their divorce any longer.
“I wish you would tell me what’s bothering you,” Viggo said, impatience slowly seeping into his tone. “And I wish you'd tell me why you still won't let me see your face. Whatever it is, I can handle it. I'm a big boy already.”
“Would you please stop pressuring me?” Orlando said sharply, and stood up from the little sofa. This time they'd retreated to the private room to be able to talk and kiss in peace, and Orlando had pointedly ignored the cold look Joey gave him. The two boys still weren't talking, and Orlando felt keenly the lack of their easy camaraderie. “I have my reasons, and you going on about it isn't going to change anything.”
Viggo stood up too. “Since we're being so honest today, you should probably know something. I think I'm starting to have feelings for you, even though I know it's not a good idea to fall for someone who won't even let you see them, for god's sake. It's not about how you look; it's about trust. I feel you don't trust me, and that's going to be a problem.”
Orlando's throat felt tight. “Then how about you trying to trust me?” he asked. “Do you think I feel trusted when you keep bringing this up, even if I've told you that I have reasons for it?”
“I'm not the one with the secret here,” Viggo pointed out. “I've been honest with you; hell, I've told you everything about myself, and all I've received in return is your first name!”
“So, you don't trust me,” Orlando said hollowly. “And why would you? What am I, after all? A masked boy keeping secrets and stripping for a living, and just look how easily you got me to bed. Of course you wouldn't trust me, who would?”
Viggo's mouth thinned into a line. “Don't turn this around on me, Jon. What I'm asking isn't that unreasonable.” Trying to control his own temper before he said anything he'd regret, Viggo continued. “Maybe I should go and come back when you've calmed down.”
His conciliatory words came too late for Orlando; what he'd said about honesty had struck a chord inside him, and suddenly Orlando got angry. Angry at himself for getting himself in this mess, and angry at Viggo for not making it any easier for him.
“Go, then! What's keeping you? I didn't ask you to come back,” Orlando shouted. His eyelids burned just as his gut clenched; what the hell had just happened? Why was he yelling at Viggo when in reality all he wanted was to kiss the man and confess everything?
“Don't worry, I'll go,” Viggo said coldly, and took his coat from the sofa. “I'm sure the next guy won't mind the mask and the secrets as long as the mouth is good.”
“Fuck you,” Orlando whispered when the door slammed shut behind Viggo, and let the tears come. How could Viggo leave him like that when he'd just started to fall in love? He sat down again and buried his face in his hands. It was a total mess, that's what it was. He'd see Viggo at work tomorrow and he'd have to pretend that nothing was wrong, that the man hadn't just broken his heart to a million pieces.
He never heard the door open, but then someone touched his shoulder and he looked up, certain that it was Viggo coming to apologise, but it was Joey. Seeing his friend's tear-stained face, he took Orlando in his arms and held him while he cried.
“I know, you told me so,” Orlando sniffed when he finally had himself under control. “God, it just hurts so much. Why do guys have to be such arseholes?”
He wiped at his cheeks with his palms, thinking that it'd been a while since he'd last turned on the waterworks. And all just because of a guy who could seemingly walk away, unaffected. The thought almost made him start crying again.
Joey shrugged. “Because we're human. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“No,” Orlando said and sniffed again. He was glad his number didn't require any make-up or it would be all over the place. “It's so complicated. I like him and he likes me, but I can't let him know who I am. I can't, and he won't accept that. I guess we just can't work that out.”
“You mean... you have feelings for this bloke?” Joey asked. “Isn't he married or something?”
“He's getting a divorce. And I do have feelings for him. It's like he's the guy I've been waiting for most of my life, and now I'm fucking this up because I can't find a way to solve this.”
Orlando sighed and fished a napkin from his pocket. He always carried napkins with him nowadays, especially if he was meeting Viggo. It made the post-coital cleaning up so much easier. Only now there would be no more meetings, no more hurried yet sweet blowjobs and no more closeness. Just because he couldn't have been honest in the beginning.
“Are you sure he's that serious about you? I mean, for him, it could be just sex,” Joey said carefully. “I know your feelings are real, you wouldn't be sitting here bawling your eyes out if you didn't care, but you can't really be sure about his feelings.”
“You don't know him, Jo,” Orlando said. “I know I don't really know him that well either but I know that he wants more from me than just head. And I don't mean my arse, either.”
“Okay, so maybe he'll kiss and cuddle but he's still got a wife there somewhere,” Joey reasoned. “So yeah, let's say he's bisexual, and totally gets off on watching you shake your arse at him. That's not gonna land a ring on your finger and give you a happy ending. It doesn't happen that way.”
“Who said anything about wanting a ring?” Orlando asked. “God, don't be tacky. I'd be pretty content with a proper date. And a chance to get to know him better, and this time for real. It's fucking pathetic, that's what it is. I see him at work every day and I can't approach him, and then I see him at the club and we have sex and I just... I don't know. I just like him, okay? I can't explain it, and I can't make it go away.”
“It will, over time. You'll forget about him when you won't be seeing him all the time, and then someone else will come along.” Joey spoke with confidence Orlando didn't feel, but then he didn't have all the facts. “Come now, you look awful. Go wash your face and then go home, I'll tell Dave you got a migraine.”
“Thanks, mate,” Orlando said, and pulled off his mask. “God, I hate this thing. I wish I'd never started on this job, Joey. I really do.”
“No you don't. It's brought good things, too, hasn't it? Friends like me, for example,” Joey said and got a wan little smile from his friend. “Now that's better. Fuck that guy, he'll never find anyone as beautiful and nice as you, and that's his loss. You, on the other hand, will find that guy you've been looking for. I have a feeling and I'm always right --”
“When you have the feeling, I know,” Orlando finished for him. “Thank you. I mean it. I promise I'll do better tomorrow, but I think I'll go home now and mope in peace. This will be the first and only time you'll ever see me bawling after a bloke, I swear.”
“That's my kitten. Go now, I'll speak to Dave. And if that guy shows up later tonight I'll have Vin throw him out,” Joey said and winked.
* * *
The next morning Orlando wasn't feeling any better, but he had no choice but to go to the office. The thought of seeing Viggo made his stomach roll, but there was nothing else he could do but face the man and pray that Viggo would still remain clueless about the true situation. If he thought about it, Orlando was a bit offended that Viggo couldn't connect him to the stripper boy, but to be fair the man had only seen him at the office once, and their meetings at the club had all been quite hurried and filled with something other than looking and perusing.
Greeting Alex who stepped to the elevator with him, Orlando checked out his appearance in the mirror. He looked awful with dark shadows under his eyes, but he couldn't help it. He'd spent hours tossing and turning in his bed, shedding a few angry tears for a relationship that had ended before it had even properly begun, and then his alarm clock had awakened him far too early.
Orlando stepped inside his room and froze. Viggo was sitting at his desk, reading some magazine as if he was waiting for someone.
“Um, morning,” he greeted and turned to close the door behind him. He didn't want to even look at the man after what had happened, but he could do nothing else. Finally turning to face Viggo, Orlando was surprised to see that Viggo looked almost as bad as he did. It was obvious that the American hadn't slept any more than he had, and for some reason that made Orlando instantly feel a bit better. Perhaps their break-up, if it could be called such, hadn't been that easy on Viggo, either.
“Good morning, Orlando.” Viggo put down his magazine and stood up. “Lucy said you'd help me out if I needed help, so here I am. She left me some papers but I'm not exactly sure what I need to do with them.”
“Oh, of course,” Orlando said. “Do you want a cup of coffee before we start?” It came out automatically, even if the last thing he wanted to do was to serve the bastard. On the other hand, it would be the perfect opportunity to leave the room for at least a couple of minutes.
Viggo looked surprised. “I'd rather we just got started as soon as possible.” He paused and then looked contrite. “I'm sorry, I seem to be in a shitty mood today. That's no reason to take it out on you, though.”
Orlando softened. He was now sure that Viggo, too, felt bad about the night before. “It's okay, I'm used to it, really,” he said, and then cringed. “Not that Lucy is an awful bitch or anything, yeah? I mean, she's a bit mean sometimes, but I can take it, you know?” He clapped a hand over his mouth and wished the earth would open up and swallow him. “God, ignore me, my brain's not connected to my mouth it seems. Sorry.”
Viggo's shoulders were shaking with mirth. “It's okay, Orlando. No harm done.” He kept looking at Orlando, and the boy shifted under the weight of his gaze.
“So, you said something about getting started,” Orlando blurted. “Let me see those papers Lucy gave you, I'm sure I can find the whole report somewhere in her room.”
Viggo handed him a stack of papers and watched Orlando disappear into the adjoining room that belonged to his boss, his mouth still curled into a small smile, but a little frown had appeared between his eyebrows. Orlando soon came back with a folder and a victorious little grin.
“Found it, she probably forgot to mention that these papers she gave you were just an excerpt of some sort. This here is the real thing.”
Viggo sighed. “Thank God. I was just starting to think I'm totally incompetent for not grasping the meaning behind that text.” They shared a little smile and then Orlando looked away. Viggo's parting words from the night before still rang in his mind, and he couldn't forgive him that easily even if the man seemed to regret their breakup.
“Is there anything else? Lucy said I could always find something to do at the IT department,” Orlando hinted, hoping that Viggo would say he didn't need him for anything else. A small voice inside him suggested that spending time with Viggo, no matter how work-related, would be welcome. He missed the man already, and he didn't even want to think about how hard it would be to work at the club and not see him.
“Actually I was hoping we could go through the report,” Viggo said. “Is that okay?”
Orlando's shoulders slumped but he pasted on a smile. “Of course.”
* * *
Two hours later, and Orlando was having serious regrets about not having been upfront about his real identity right from the beginning. Viggo had turned out to be intelligent and funny beyond what he'd found out about him in their previous meetings, and despite his heartache Orlando couldn't but admit that he was still falling for the man. He seemed unfazed by Orlando's bouts of shyness, and he even got Orlando's little jokes that no-one else ever seemed to understand.
The scar on his lip drew Orlando's gaze every time he smiled, and now that he knew how it felt to lick it he found himself aching to do so again. Only the knowledge of how Viggo would react if he simply jumped him kept Orlando from doing anything. He was aware of the looks Viggo gave him, and it was all he could do not to blush and start sputtering like an idiot.
It seemed that not only did Viggo have chemistry with Jon, he also had some serious chemistry with Orlando, and now he was at loss. He could, perhaps, pursue the older man as himself, but what if Viggo had already fallen for Jon? There was no changing the fact that Jon was make-believe while Orlando was the real thing, but it was also true that Jon had the qualities Orlando lacked in abundance; self-confidence, wittiness, a sparkling personality.
Lunch hour approached, and Viggo straightened his back with a grunt. “Would you care for a drink and a sandwich?” he asked. “I found a nice little place around here earlier this week, but I haven't had the chance to actually try it out. Care to be the guinea pig?”
Orlando giggled. “I'm against animal testing on principle, but sure.” As if to confirm his affirmative answer, his stomach grumbled loudly, causing him to blush.
“I take it that your stomach agrees,” Viggo teased and handed Orlando his coat. “Let's go then, I'd like to avoid the worst of the lunch traffic if possible.”
Orlando gobbled down his sandwich and fidgeted with his water bottle, trying to summon his courage. When Viggo was finally finished with his own meal, Orlando spoke. “Um, I don't know if this is totally inappropriate,” he started. “And I don't want to cross any lines here, honestly. I was just wondering, uh, if you'd like to, um, you know, go out for coffee some day with me?”
Viggo's blue eyes met his and studied him, and finally Viggo shook his head. “You're not crossing any lines, and I'd love to go for a coffee with you one day, but just as friends. You see... I'm kind of seeing someone and it's complicated as it is, and it wouldn't be fair to you, or to him, to mess things up any further. You both deserve better than me undecided on what's going to happen next and with whom.”
Orlando opened his mouth and then closed it, not knowing what to say. The way Viggo phrased things made it sound like he thought Jon and his break-up wasn't permanent; on the other hand, it confirmed Orlando's beliefs that Viggo preferred Jon to him.
“I see. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I don't want to complicate things, either,” Orlando said and stared at his hands on the table.
“It's okay that you asked, I'm glad you did,” Viggo said and grasped his hand from across the table. Orlando nearly jerked away from the touch in surprise, but relaxed under the familiar touch. Viggo's eyes widened slightly when Orlando's fingers squeezed his and their eyes met across the table. Orlando quickly pulled his hand away and dropped his eyes, his heart in his throat. How could Viggo touch him and not realise who he was?
Jumping up and grabbing his coat Orlando bolted out of the pub, his heart hammering in his chest and the sound of Viggo's surprised “Orlando!” ringing in his ears all the way to the office.
* * *
He felt like a coward for hiding in IT for the rest of the day, but there was no way he could face Viggo after what had happened at the lunch. Viggo must really hate him now, the odd mumbling freak who couldn't even have lunch like normal people did. Alex tried to cheer him up but gave up after getting the same mumbled response for the umpteenth time.
“You've always been there for me when I've had trouble with Jemma,” he eventually said. “I just want you to know that I'll be there for you too. I know you like the boys and that's fine. I just don't want to see you this miserable, Orlando. You deserve better.”
“Thanks, mate,” Orlando said and tried to smile. “It's too unbelievable to try and tell anyone, though. Right now it's just a big mess in my head, but it'll be okay. I had no idea that falling in love would be this fucking hard.” He paused and sighed. “Okay, I said it. Funny, I never got the chance to say that to him, and now I'll never be able to say it. Just one word of advice, Alex. Hang on to Jemma, she's an absolute doll and she loves you. Don't be a moron and fuck things up like me.”
“You're not a moron,” Alex said. “If the guy's as great as you think he is, don't you think he'd understand if you tried to explain? I mean, if he loves you too.”
Orlando shook his head. “He doesn't. He's in love with someone who doesn't even exist.”
* * *
Going to the club was hard that night, but Orlando knew he needed to go; his boss hadn't hired a slacker, he needed the money and if he stayed at home, he knew he would do nothing but mope and grieve for what had been lost.
Two seconds after stepping inside the club, Orlando was taken in a fierce embrace. “Dave, what's up?” he wheezed.
“Joey told me,” the man said, and then released him from his crushing hug. “I'm sorry, Orlando. You're far too precious to have your heart broken by some inconsiderate sod. Tell me the name of the guy and you'll never have to see him again.” Seeing Orlando's horrified look, he grinned and shook his head. “Here at the club, I mean. I'll give his name and characteristics to Vin and he won't let him in, I promise.”
Orlando chuckled. “Thanks, but that's not necessary. I doubt he'll be coming around again.”
“If you're sure...” Dave looked at him expectantly, ready and willing to take care of him, and Orlando's heart was moved once again. For a guy who had thought he had no friends, he seemed to have a lot of people who cared about him, and that felt good.
“I'm sure. Thanks Dave, you're a doll.” Orlando gave him another hug and a small peck on the cheek. “And that one's for Joey. He's a good friend too.”
That night Orlando's heart and mind weren't on his performance, and it showed. His moves felt mechanical, and without the eyes of the man whom he loved watching him and turning him on, Orlando felt for the first time what a lifeless, boring job stripping could be. The rip-off leather pants looked good on his slender frame, and the small leather thong underneath earner a round of loud calls and whistles, especially when Orlando dropped onto all fours and pretended to hump the floor.
That night was no different from the others in one regard; the regulars loved him and he still earned a nice sum of cash, but even the sight of the money didn't cheer him up. The lack of Viggo was keenly felt, and Orlando tried to harden himself, telling himself that this was how it was going to be from now on and the sooner he got used to it, the better. And this would be the easy part; the hard part would come tomorrow when he went to the office and was met with Viggo's disgust and contempt.
Orlando was having a drink with one of the regulars, chatting about this and that, when someone appeared behind him. The man he was talking to took one look at the newcomer and made himself scarce. Orlando, thinking that he'd have to rebuff yet another request for a private dance, turned to shoot the man down with the same phrase he'd given to all the others, but the words died on his lips. It was Viggo, looking at him with a desperate look on his face.
It was the most crumpled Orlando had ever seen him, and he was halfway up from his chair before he even realised it. Then he remembered he no longer had the right to touch Viggo, and folded his arms on his chest.
“What are you doing here?” Orlando asked, aiming for a bored look but failing miserably.
“I need to know,” Viggo said unsteadily. “I feel like I'm going out of my fucking mind, and I just need to know.”
Before Orlando could react, Viggo had taken a hold of his mask and ripped it off. Orlando stared at him in shock and then tried to take it back as if it would erase what had just happened. “Give it back,” he said, feeling very naked and bare all of a sudden.
“It is you,” Viggo said, his voice rough. “God, Orlando, it is you, I knew it was you,” he said and then he was kissing Orlando, kissing him with all his might and love and passion, and Orlando knew then that it wasn't the sexy Jon that Viggo loved, it wasn't the mousy Orlando from the office that Viggo loved, it was him; all aspects of him, Orlando, and Viggo loved them all.
“How did you know?” he asked when they were alone in the back room.
“How could I not have known?” Viggo asked, looking a little ashamed. “I should've known from your babbling, and I should've known from your smile, but really, I wasn't sure until I touched you at the pub. I've never felt anything like that with anyone else before, so of course it had to be you.”
His fingers traced the whorl of Orlando's ear, as if to make sure that he really had Orlando in his arms, and the boy relaxed against him, content at last.
“I know I never said it,” Orlando said softly. “I love you. I'm sorry I almost messed things up.”
“I very nearly messed things up, too,” Viggo said. “And I love you, too. I thought I'd lost you today and it almost killed me. I want you in my life, Orlando Bloom, if you'll have me.”
“Of course I'll have you, Viggo Mortensen,” Orlando dimpled. “And it's Orlando Jonathan Blanchard Bloom, mister.”
THE END.
Title: Bare Essentials (2/2)
Author: laeglass
Pairing: VM/OB
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Just a dream and a lie, nothing more. No offence or harm intended to anyone.
Feedback: Yes, please.
A/N: Beta-read by namarie120, whose input and suggestions helped in making this story a better one, and banner by the very talented mesnica; thank you both so much! *hugs* Here's part two, as I promised.
“Orlando? Still with me?” Lucy's voice had acquired a sharp edge, something it tended to do when she got particularly annoyed with something.
“Sorry, what did you say?” Orlando asked, suppressing a yawn and trying to look attentive.
His boss was going away for the rest of the week and was trying to give him orders about what to do while she was away, but Orlando's mind wandered, again. It seemed that nowadays his concentration was shot to hell; all he could think of was when he would see Viggo again, and when he could touch him again. The previous night they had met again, and this time it had been Orlando's turn to get mind-blowing head, after which he willingly reciprocated. Viggo had asked again about his mask, but Orlando, no, Jon, had given him the same answer as before: ”Sorry, I can't.” So far Viggo had been content with it, but if their relationship continued to proceed at this pace, he'd soon begin to ask questions which Orlando wouldn't be able to answer. Too much was at stake here.
“I was saying that since I won't be here, someone else will have to represent our department at the company meetings,” Lucy repeated. “Which is why Mr. Mortensen will be coming here a lot while I'm away. Our departments overlap after all, and from what I've understood he's a real stand-up guy. I want you to help him in any way you can. And try not to be a total bother, okay? I know you get a bit clumsy sometimes but there's no need for him to find out about that. Let him think that we're real professionals around here, okay Orlando?”
Refusing to let her snide words embarrass him, Orlando simply nodded. “Of course. We met here the other day and he seemed really nice, I'm sure it'll be a pleasure to work under him.”
Lucy seemed surprised at the lack of fluster in his voice. “That's good to hear. We also talked a bit during our lunch and I'm very confident I can leave the place in his hands for the next few days. Just try not to mess anything up; he's from the States after all and probably won't put up with any incompetency on your part. They're very particular about things like that.”
“I'll bear that in mind,” Orlando said, tongue firmly planted in cheek. “Would you like me to get you a coffee before you leave to the airport? I could quickly get you something from the cafeteria.”
Lucy Craven smiled a pleased smile. It seemed that the Bloom kid was growing up to be a proper assistant, after all. For some reason he'd always got on her nerves a little (she suspected it was because he was so beautiful and so totally unavailable for her), and the mean streak in her often wanted to tease him a little, watch him get fidgety and lose it, but perhaps the boy was finally growing into his skin.
”It's okay, I'll get something at the airport. And Orlando? Try to remember, life's not all about work. You're still young, live a little. I'd rather have you coming late one morning than watch you moping around all day, okay?”
Orlando had to collect his proverbial jaw from the floor. “Sure thing,” he said. “Have a safe flight.”
* * *
Viggo's fingers raised his chin so that Orlando would meet his eyes. “What's wrong? You've been a bit quiet all evening.”
“Sorry, got a lot on my mind,” Orlando said lamely.
He was starting to question whether he should end this charade here and now. There was absolutely no way he could work closely with Viggo without him finally connecting the dots. He would've given anything to be able to lose his mask and just be Orlando, and still have Viggo accept him and still like him, but the pretence had been going on for so long that he didn't think confessing would be such a good idea. At best, Viggo would be offended at his betrayal; at worst, he'd refuse to see Orlando outside of the office anymore, thus ending what was starting to build between them.
Orlando had found himself opening up to the an extent he'd never had done before, but he always had to be mindful of his words and what he chose to reveal. Some of Viggo's questions were easier to evade, some harder, and it frustrated him to no end not to be able to tell all that was on his mind. Viggo, however, had opened his heart to Orlando, and in one of their post-orgasmic cuddles he'd confessed that leaving Henry in the States was the hardest thing he'd ever done and made him feel like a complete failure as a father, even if his choice made his son happy and was really the right decision in the end.
He had also told of his marriage which had finally come to an official end, even though it had been dead for years. Viggo's wife had wanted to stay married until their son was old enough to understand, and he had considered it a small enough sacrifice; but when he'd gotten the job offer from London they realised there was no sense in postponing their divorce any longer.
“I wish you would tell me what’s bothering you,” Viggo said, impatience slowly seeping into his tone. “And I wish you'd tell me why you still won't let me see your face. Whatever it is, I can handle it. I'm a big boy already.”
“Would you please stop pressuring me?” Orlando said sharply, and stood up from the little sofa. This time they'd retreated to the private room to be able to talk and kiss in peace, and Orlando had pointedly ignored the cold look Joey gave him. The two boys still weren't talking, and Orlando felt keenly the lack of their easy camaraderie. “I have my reasons, and you going on about it isn't going to change anything.”
Viggo stood up too. “Since we're being so honest today, you should probably know something. I think I'm starting to have feelings for you, even though I know it's not a good idea to fall for someone who won't even let you see them, for god's sake. It's not about how you look; it's about trust. I feel you don't trust me, and that's going to be a problem.”
Orlando's throat felt tight. “Then how about you trying to trust me?” he asked. “Do you think I feel trusted when you keep bringing this up, even if I've told you that I have reasons for it?”
“I'm not the one with the secret here,” Viggo pointed out. “I've been honest with you; hell, I've told you everything about myself, and all I've received in return is your first name!”
“So, you don't trust me,” Orlando said hollowly. “And why would you? What am I, after all? A masked boy keeping secrets and stripping for a living, and just look how easily you got me to bed. Of course you wouldn't trust me, who would?”
Viggo's mouth thinned into a line. “Don't turn this around on me, Jon. What I'm asking isn't that unreasonable.” Trying to control his own temper before he said anything he'd regret, Viggo continued. “Maybe I should go and come back when you've calmed down.”
His conciliatory words came too late for Orlando; what he'd said about honesty had struck a chord inside him, and suddenly Orlando got angry. Angry at himself for getting himself in this mess, and angry at Viggo for not making it any easier for him.
“Go, then! What's keeping you? I didn't ask you to come back,” Orlando shouted. His eyelids burned just as his gut clenched; what the hell had just happened? Why was he yelling at Viggo when in reality all he wanted was to kiss the man and confess everything?
“Don't worry, I'll go,” Viggo said coldly, and took his coat from the sofa. “I'm sure the next guy won't mind the mask and the secrets as long as the mouth is good.”
“Fuck you,” Orlando whispered when the door slammed shut behind Viggo, and let the tears come. How could Viggo leave him like that when he'd just started to fall in love? He sat down again and buried his face in his hands. It was a total mess, that's what it was. He'd see Viggo at work tomorrow and he'd have to pretend that nothing was wrong, that the man hadn't just broken his heart to a million pieces.
He never heard the door open, but then someone touched his shoulder and he looked up, certain that it was Viggo coming to apologise, but it was Joey. Seeing his friend's tear-stained face, he took Orlando in his arms and held him while he cried.
“I know, you told me so,” Orlando sniffed when he finally had himself under control. “God, it just hurts so much. Why do guys have to be such arseholes?”
He wiped at his cheeks with his palms, thinking that it'd been a while since he'd last turned on the waterworks. And all just because of a guy who could seemingly walk away, unaffected. The thought almost made him start crying again.
Joey shrugged. “Because we're human. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“No,” Orlando said and sniffed again. He was glad his number didn't require any make-up or it would be all over the place. “It's so complicated. I like him and he likes me, but I can't let him know who I am. I can't, and he won't accept that. I guess we just can't work that out.”
“You mean... you have feelings for this bloke?” Joey asked. “Isn't he married or something?”
“He's getting a divorce. And I do have feelings for him. It's like he's the guy I've been waiting for most of my life, and now I'm fucking this up because I can't find a way to solve this.”
Orlando sighed and fished a napkin from his pocket. He always carried napkins with him nowadays, especially if he was meeting Viggo. It made the post-coital cleaning up so much easier. Only now there would be no more meetings, no more hurried yet sweet blowjobs and no more closeness. Just because he couldn't have been honest in the beginning.
“Are you sure he's that serious about you? I mean, for him, it could be just sex,” Joey said carefully. “I know your feelings are real, you wouldn't be sitting here bawling your eyes out if you didn't care, but you can't really be sure about his feelings.”
“You don't know him, Jo,” Orlando said. “I know I don't really know him that well either but I know that he wants more from me than just head. And I don't mean my arse, either.”
“Okay, so maybe he'll kiss and cuddle but he's still got a wife there somewhere,” Joey reasoned. “So yeah, let's say he's bisexual, and totally gets off on watching you shake your arse at him. That's not gonna land a ring on your finger and give you a happy ending. It doesn't happen that way.”
“Who said anything about wanting a ring?” Orlando asked. “God, don't be tacky. I'd be pretty content with a proper date. And a chance to get to know him better, and this time for real. It's fucking pathetic, that's what it is. I see him at work every day and I can't approach him, and then I see him at the club and we have sex and I just... I don't know. I just like him, okay? I can't explain it, and I can't make it go away.”
“It will, over time. You'll forget about him when you won't be seeing him all the time, and then someone else will come along.” Joey spoke with confidence Orlando didn't feel, but then he didn't have all the facts. “Come now, you look awful. Go wash your face and then go home, I'll tell Dave you got a migraine.”
“Thanks, mate,” Orlando said, and pulled off his mask. “God, I hate this thing. I wish I'd never started on this job, Joey. I really do.”
“No you don't. It's brought good things, too, hasn't it? Friends like me, for example,” Joey said and got a wan little smile from his friend. “Now that's better. Fuck that guy, he'll never find anyone as beautiful and nice as you, and that's his loss. You, on the other hand, will find that guy you've been looking for. I have a feeling and I'm always right --”
“When you have the feeling, I know,” Orlando finished for him. “Thank you. I mean it. I promise I'll do better tomorrow, but I think I'll go home now and mope in peace. This will be the first and only time you'll ever see me bawling after a bloke, I swear.”
“That's my kitten. Go now, I'll speak to Dave. And if that guy shows up later tonight I'll have Vin throw him out,” Joey said and winked.
* * *
The next morning Orlando wasn't feeling any better, but he had no choice but to go to the office. The thought of seeing Viggo made his stomach roll, but there was nothing else he could do but face the man and pray that Viggo would still remain clueless about the true situation. If he thought about it, Orlando was a bit offended that Viggo couldn't connect him to the stripper boy, but to be fair the man had only seen him at the office once, and their meetings at the club had all been quite hurried and filled with something other than looking and perusing.
Greeting Alex who stepped to the elevator with him, Orlando checked out his appearance in the mirror. He looked awful with dark shadows under his eyes, but he couldn't help it. He'd spent hours tossing and turning in his bed, shedding a few angry tears for a relationship that had ended before it had even properly begun, and then his alarm clock had awakened him far too early.
Orlando stepped inside his room and froze. Viggo was sitting at his desk, reading some magazine as if he was waiting for someone.
“Um, morning,” he greeted and turned to close the door behind him. He didn't want to even look at the man after what had happened, but he could do nothing else. Finally turning to face Viggo, Orlando was surprised to see that Viggo looked almost as bad as he did. It was obvious that the American hadn't slept any more than he had, and for some reason that made Orlando instantly feel a bit better. Perhaps their break-up, if it could be called such, hadn't been that easy on Viggo, either.
“Good morning, Orlando.” Viggo put down his magazine and stood up. “Lucy said you'd help me out if I needed help, so here I am. She left me some papers but I'm not exactly sure what I need to do with them.”
“Oh, of course,” Orlando said. “Do you want a cup of coffee before we start?” It came out automatically, even if the last thing he wanted to do was to serve the bastard. On the other hand, it would be the perfect opportunity to leave the room for at least a couple of minutes.
Viggo looked surprised. “I'd rather we just got started as soon as possible.” He paused and then looked contrite. “I'm sorry, I seem to be in a shitty mood today. That's no reason to take it out on you, though.”
Orlando softened. He was now sure that Viggo, too, felt bad about the night before. “It's okay, I'm used to it, really,” he said, and then cringed. “Not that Lucy is an awful bitch or anything, yeah? I mean, she's a bit mean sometimes, but I can take it, you know?” He clapped a hand over his mouth and wished the earth would open up and swallow him. “God, ignore me, my brain's not connected to my mouth it seems. Sorry.”
Viggo's shoulders were shaking with mirth. “It's okay, Orlando. No harm done.” He kept looking at Orlando, and the boy shifted under the weight of his gaze.
“So, you said something about getting started,” Orlando blurted. “Let me see those papers Lucy gave you, I'm sure I can find the whole report somewhere in her room.”
Viggo handed him a stack of papers and watched Orlando disappear into the adjoining room that belonged to his boss, his mouth still curled into a small smile, but a little frown had appeared between his eyebrows. Orlando soon came back with a folder and a victorious little grin.
“Found it, she probably forgot to mention that these papers she gave you were just an excerpt of some sort. This here is the real thing.”
Viggo sighed. “Thank God. I was just starting to think I'm totally incompetent for not grasping the meaning behind that text.” They shared a little smile and then Orlando looked away. Viggo's parting words from the night before still rang in his mind, and he couldn't forgive him that easily even if the man seemed to regret their breakup.
“Is there anything else? Lucy said I could always find something to do at the IT department,” Orlando hinted, hoping that Viggo would say he didn't need him for anything else. A small voice inside him suggested that spending time with Viggo, no matter how work-related, would be welcome. He missed the man already, and he didn't even want to think about how hard it would be to work at the club and not see him.
“Actually I was hoping we could go through the report,” Viggo said. “Is that okay?”
Orlando's shoulders slumped but he pasted on a smile. “Of course.”
* * *
Two hours later, and Orlando was having serious regrets about not having been upfront about his real identity right from the beginning. Viggo had turned out to be intelligent and funny beyond what he'd found out about him in their previous meetings, and despite his heartache Orlando couldn't but admit that he was still falling for the man. He seemed unfazed by Orlando's bouts of shyness, and he even got Orlando's little jokes that no-one else ever seemed to understand.
The scar on his lip drew Orlando's gaze every time he smiled, and now that he knew how it felt to lick it he found himself aching to do so again. Only the knowledge of how Viggo would react if he simply jumped him kept Orlando from doing anything. He was aware of the looks Viggo gave him, and it was all he could do not to blush and start sputtering like an idiot.
It seemed that not only did Viggo have chemistry with Jon, he also had some serious chemistry with Orlando, and now he was at loss. He could, perhaps, pursue the older man as himself, but what if Viggo had already fallen for Jon? There was no changing the fact that Jon was make-believe while Orlando was the real thing, but it was also true that Jon had the qualities Orlando lacked in abundance; self-confidence, wittiness, a sparkling personality.
Lunch hour approached, and Viggo straightened his back with a grunt. “Would you care for a drink and a sandwich?” he asked. “I found a nice little place around here earlier this week, but I haven't had the chance to actually try it out. Care to be the guinea pig?”
Orlando giggled. “I'm against animal testing on principle, but sure.” As if to confirm his affirmative answer, his stomach grumbled loudly, causing him to blush.
“I take it that your stomach agrees,” Viggo teased and handed Orlando his coat. “Let's go then, I'd like to avoid the worst of the lunch traffic if possible.”
Orlando gobbled down his sandwich and fidgeted with his water bottle, trying to summon his courage. When Viggo was finally finished with his own meal, Orlando spoke. “Um, I don't know if this is totally inappropriate,” he started. “And I don't want to cross any lines here, honestly. I was just wondering, uh, if you'd like to, um, you know, go out for coffee some day with me?”
Viggo's blue eyes met his and studied him, and finally Viggo shook his head. “You're not crossing any lines, and I'd love to go for a coffee with you one day, but just as friends. You see... I'm kind of seeing someone and it's complicated as it is, and it wouldn't be fair to you, or to him, to mess things up any further. You both deserve better than me undecided on what's going to happen next and with whom.”
Orlando opened his mouth and then closed it, not knowing what to say. The way Viggo phrased things made it sound like he thought Jon and his break-up wasn't permanent; on the other hand, it confirmed Orlando's beliefs that Viggo preferred Jon to him.
“I see. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I don't want to complicate things, either,” Orlando said and stared at his hands on the table.
“It's okay that you asked, I'm glad you did,” Viggo said and grasped his hand from across the table. Orlando nearly jerked away from the touch in surprise, but relaxed under the familiar touch. Viggo's eyes widened slightly when Orlando's fingers squeezed his and their eyes met across the table. Orlando quickly pulled his hand away and dropped his eyes, his heart in his throat. How could Viggo touch him and not realise who he was?
Jumping up and grabbing his coat Orlando bolted out of the pub, his heart hammering in his chest and the sound of Viggo's surprised “Orlando!” ringing in his ears all the way to the office.
* * *
He felt like a coward for hiding in IT for the rest of the day, but there was no way he could face Viggo after what had happened at the lunch. Viggo must really hate him now, the odd mumbling freak who couldn't even have lunch like normal people did. Alex tried to cheer him up but gave up after getting the same mumbled response for the umpteenth time.
“You've always been there for me when I've had trouble with Jemma,” he eventually said. “I just want you to know that I'll be there for you too. I know you like the boys and that's fine. I just don't want to see you this miserable, Orlando. You deserve better.”
“Thanks, mate,” Orlando said and tried to smile. “It's too unbelievable to try and tell anyone, though. Right now it's just a big mess in my head, but it'll be okay. I had no idea that falling in love would be this fucking hard.” He paused and sighed. “Okay, I said it. Funny, I never got the chance to say that to him, and now I'll never be able to say it. Just one word of advice, Alex. Hang on to Jemma, she's an absolute doll and she loves you. Don't be a moron and fuck things up like me.”
“You're not a moron,” Alex said. “If the guy's as great as you think he is, don't you think he'd understand if you tried to explain? I mean, if he loves you too.”
Orlando shook his head. “He doesn't. He's in love with someone who doesn't even exist.”
* * *
Going to the club was hard that night, but Orlando knew he needed to go; his boss hadn't hired a slacker, he needed the money and if he stayed at home, he knew he would do nothing but mope and grieve for what had been lost.
Two seconds after stepping inside the club, Orlando was taken in a fierce embrace. “Dave, what's up?” he wheezed.
“Joey told me,” the man said, and then released him from his crushing hug. “I'm sorry, Orlando. You're far too precious to have your heart broken by some inconsiderate sod. Tell me the name of the guy and you'll never have to see him again.” Seeing Orlando's horrified look, he grinned and shook his head. “Here at the club, I mean. I'll give his name and characteristics to Vin and he won't let him in, I promise.”
Orlando chuckled. “Thanks, but that's not necessary. I doubt he'll be coming around again.”
“If you're sure...” Dave looked at him expectantly, ready and willing to take care of him, and Orlando's heart was moved once again. For a guy who had thought he had no friends, he seemed to have a lot of people who cared about him, and that felt good.
“I'm sure. Thanks Dave, you're a doll.” Orlando gave him another hug and a small peck on the cheek. “And that one's for Joey. He's a good friend too.”
That night Orlando's heart and mind weren't on his performance, and it showed. His moves felt mechanical, and without the eyes of the man whom he loved watching him and turning him on, Orlando felt for the first time what a lifeless, boring job stripping could be. The rip-off leather pants looked good on his slender frame, and the small leather thong underneath earner a round of loud calls and whistles, especially when Orlando dropped onto all fours and pretended to hump the floor.
That night was no different from the others in one regard; the regulars loved him and he still earned a nice sum of cash, but even the sight of the money didn't cheer him up. The lack of Viggo was keenly felt, and Orlando tried to harden himself, telling himself that this was how it was going to be from now on and the sooner he got used to it, the better. And this would be the easy part; the hard part would come tomorrow when he went to the office and was met with Viggo's disgust and contempt.
Orlando was having a drink with one of the regulars, chatting about this and that, when someone appeared behind him. The man he was talking to took one look at the newcomer and made himself scarce. Orlando, thinking that he'd have to rebuff yet another request for a private dance, turned to shoot the man down with the same phrase he'd given to all the others, but the words died on his lips. It was Viggo, looking at him with a desperate look on his face.
It was the most crumpled Orlando had ever seen him, and he was halfway up from his chair before he even realised it. Then he remembered he no longer had the right to touch Viggo, and folded his arms on his chest.
“What are you doing here?” Orlando asked, aiming for a bored look but failing miserably.
“I need to know,” Viggo said unsteadily. “I feel like I'm going out of my fucking mind, and I just need to know.”
Before Orlando could react, Viggo had taken a hold of his mask and ripped it off. Orlando stared at him in shock and then tried to take it back as if it would erase what had just happened. “Give it back,” he said, feeling very naked and bare all of a sudden.
“It is you,” Viggo said, his voice rough. “God, Orlando, it is you, I knew it was you,” he said and then he was kissing Orlando, kissing him with all his might and love and passion, and Orlando knew then that it wasn't the sexy Jon that Viggo loved, it wasn't the mousy Orlando from the office that Viggo loved, it was him; all aspects of him, Orlando, and Viggo loved them all.
“How did you know?” he asked when they were alone in the back room.
“How could I not have known?” Viggo asked, looking a little ashamed. “I should've known from your babbling, and I should've known from your smile, but really, I wasn't sure until I touched you at the pub. I've never felt anything like that with anyone else before, so of course it had to be you.”
His fingers traced the whorl of Orlando's ear, as if to make sure that he really had Orlando in his arms, and the boy relaxed against him, content at last.
“I know I never said it,” Orlando said softly. “I love you. I'm sorry I almost messed things up.”
“I very nearly messed things up, too,” Viggo said. “And I love you, too. I thought I'd lost you today and it almost killed me. I want you in my life, Orlando Bloom, if you'll have me.”
“Of course I'll have you, Viggo Mortensen,” Orlando dimpled. “And it's Orlando Jonathan Blanchard Bloom, mister.”
THE END.