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fellowshippers2003-10-23 11:16 pm
ananke9.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2003-10-23 11:16 pm
We Know What You Did.... (Orlando/?, R)
Title: We Know What You Did…..
Rating: R
Pairing: Orlando/?
Disclaimer: This is what is generally known as fiction. As in lies.
Summary: Dom and Elijah have seen the photos from the GQ Awards too. And they're looking for answers.
Part One
He answers the phone because it seems like the less painful of the two options. He's still too dozy to figure out where the off button is, so in sleepy resignation, he accepts the call from whatever bloody inconsiderate *wanker* is ringing at, oh, bollocks, mid afternoon.
"Blo--om!" crows the delighted chuckle on the other end of the goddamned thing. "Kate's gonna have your fuckin' *balls*, man!"
Elijah?
Elijah.
Elijah?!
"Wha' the fuck?" Orlando manages, while he wonders if hanging up would work. It would involve figuring out how to disconnect the phone before the little bastard can ring back. And Elijah sounds way too awake right now while Orlando needs coffee. And aspirin. And about eight more hours of uninterrupted sleep.
"You are *all* over the internet, dude."
'Dude', at what feels like the crack of dawn, is just too much to take. While he summons up the effort demanded for a heartfelt groan, he casts an envious eye over his still-sleeping companion. So not fair. Anyway -
"I'm always all over the fucking internet. And you're not supposed to tell me about this shit. Why are you even looking at it?"
A small voice in the back of his head, quieter than Elijah's piercing tones but no less disturbing, wonders what exactly he's been caught doing recently. Bollocks.
"Oh, Dom sends his congrats, by the way." Elijah sniggers. "For the award too."
Two of 'em in on it. They've just decided to drive him mad now, in revenge for - well, whatever he did to them last. He can't really remember, but Hobbits have long memories when it comes to tricks and revenge and stuff. Like elephants.
"Orli? You okay, mate?"
Heh. "Yeah. Hangover. Tired. Go away, Lij."
"Okay, that's okay. It's just you said 'elephants.' I wondered. And yeah, I'd fuckin' say you're tired. Looks like it was quite the party. So then. What we want to know. Did you pull Charlize Theron?"
"What?!"
He's awake now, brain suddenly unfogged, if still in quite a lot of pain. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Last night. Okay, thinking now. Thinking hurts. Last night on the internet. Last night is on the internet. None of this is good.
"Lij?" he wails plaintively. "What the fuck?"
The sound of Elijah having what sounds like a painful case of hysterics is the only reply. Oh Christ, he's going to kill him. After he himself gets axe-murdered by his agent, his family and, oh yeah, Kate.
There is the sound of some scuffling, then the noise of Elijah's helpless giggles fades somewhat.
"Well now, my lad," says Dom's cheerful voice, "Who's been a bad boy?"
Dom. Okay, still going to be annoying but at least this one's coherent.
"Dom? Please? Tell us what you've seen." Yes, that's the right tone; a voice of quiet reason.
"You sound like shit, mate. But then it looks like you were having some fun last night. Congrats by the way. You know, 'Breakthrough Male." Dom loses what control he has and his voice cracks into a helpless howl of laughter. From somewhere in the background, Elijah's giggles reach hitherto unknown pitches until there is a loud thump, and then silence.
"Dom?" Orlando enquires, with all the patience that can be expected from a man who's had too much drink, too little sleep and is being mocked unmercifully by people who are *supposed* to be his friends. He'd never do this to them, oh no. "Fuck's sake, Dom, what's going on?"
Dom's shaky voice reappears. "Lij fell off the bed. I think you broke him. You know, I do believe I'll be sending you the bill for him."
"Dom…."
"Orli, relax." Dom manages steadier tones, perhaps finally getting the message that this is *important* dammit. "We're just taking the piss, it's not like there's actually pictures of you *shagging* Charlize. Just flirting your cute little ass off. There's a lot of those ones." His voice becomes mischievous again. "So, then. D'you get any?"
"Why the *hell* are you looking at this stuff?" Orlando groans. "I swear to god, d'you two really have nothing better to do? Cos that's just sad."
"What were we doing? What do you think we were doing? Looking for blackmail material. And guess what we found?" Dom's smugness leaves little doubt as to the answer. "So c'mon, fucker. Wake up and give us details."
"No." Orlando rolls over tiredly and slings a chilly arm over the warm and peaceful body beside him, the body that can apparently sleep through Orlando having a minor nervous breakdown. Which is good to know. "Fuck off, Dom," he says tiredly. "Sleep now."
"Orlando, wakey wakey. I'm putting you on speaker phone now and you're going to tell us all about it. And if you don't…."
Orlando opens a suspicious eye at the overly confident tone. Little bastards. "What?"
He can practically hear the smug grin. "If you don't, we won't tell you about the *other* photo we've found."
Oh fuck.
Rating: R
Pairing: Orlando/?
Disclaimer: This is what is generally known as fiction. As in lies.
Summary: Dom and Elijah have seen the photos from the GQ Awards too. And they're looking for answers.
Part One
He answers the phone because it seems like the less painful of the two options. He's still too dozy to figure out where the off button is, so in sleepy resignation, he accepts the call from whatever bloody inconsiderate *wanker* is ringing at, oh, bollocks, mid afternoon.
"Blo--om!" crows the delighted chuckle on the other end of the goddamned thing. "Kate's gonna have your fuckin' *balls*, man!"
Elijah?
Elijah.
Elijah?!
"Wha' the fuck?" Orlando manages, while he wonders if hanging up would work. It would involve figuring out how to disconnect the phone before the little bastard can ring back. And Elijah sounds way too awake right now while Orlando needs coffee. And aspirin. And about eight more hours of uninterrupted sleep.
"You are *all* over the internet, dude."
'Dude', at what feels like the crack of dawn, is just too much to take. While he summons up the effort demanded for a heartfelt groan, he casts an envious eye over his still-sleeping companion. So not fair. Anyway -
"I'm always all over the fucking internet. And you're not supposed to tell me about this shit. Why are you even looking at it?"
A small voice in the back of his head, quieter than Elijah's piercing tones but no less disturbing, wonders what exactly he's been caught doing recently. Bollocks.
"Oh, Dom sends his congrats, by the way." Elijah sniggers. "For the award too."
Two of 'em in on it. They've just decided to drive him mad now, in revenge for - well, whatever he did to them last. He can't really remember, but Hobbits have long memories when it comes to tricks and revenge and stuff. Like elephants.
"Orli? You okay, mate?"
Heh. "Yeah. Hangover. Tired. Go away, Lij."
"Okay, that's okay. It's just you said 'elephants.' I wondered. And yeah, I'd fuckin' say you're tired. Looks like it was quite the party. So then. What we want to know. Did you pull Charlize Theron?"
"What?!"
He's awake now, brain suddenly unfogged, if still in quite a lot of pain. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Last night. Okay, thinking now. Thinking hurts. Last night on the internet. Last night is on the internet. None of this is good.
"Lij?" he wails plaintively. "What the fuck?"
The sound of Elijah having what sounds like a painful case of hysterics is the only reply. Oh Christ, he's going to kill him. After he himself gets axe-murdered by his agent, his family and, oh yeah, Kate.
There is the sound of some scuffling, then the noise of Elijah's helpless giggles fades somewhat.
"Well now, my lad," says Dom's cheerful voice, "Who's been a bad boy?"
Dom. Okay, still going to be annoying but at least this one's coherent.
"Dom? Please? Tell us what you've seen." Yes, that's the right tone; a voice of quiet reason.
"You sound like shit, mate. But then it looks like you were having some fun last night. Congrats by the way. You know, 'Breakthrough Male." Dom loses what control he has and his voice cracks into a helpless howl of laughter. From somewhere in the background, Elijah's giggles reach hitherto unknown pitches until there is a loud thump, and then silence.
"Dom?" Orlando enquires, with all the patience that can be expected from a man who's had too much drink, too little sleep and is being mocked unmercifully by people who are *supposed* to be his friends. He'd never do this to them, oh no. "Fuck's sake, Dom, what's going on?"
Dom's shaky voice reappears. "Lij fell off the bed. I think you broke him. You know, I do believe I'll be sending you the bill for him."
"Dom…."
"Orli, relax." Dom manages steadier tones, perhaps finally getting the message that this is *important* dammit. "We're just taking the piss, it's not like there's actually pictures of you *shagging* Charlize. Just flirting your cute little ass off. There's a lot of those ones." His voice becomes mischievous again. "So, then. D'you get any?"
"Why the *hell* are you looking at this stuff?" Orlando groans. "I swear to god, d'you two really have nothing better to do? Cos that's just sad."
"What were we doing? What do you think we were doing? Looking for blackmail material. And guess what we found?" Dom's smugness leaves little doubt as to the answer. "So c'mon, fucker. Wake up and give us details."
"No." Orlando rolls over tiredly and slings a chilly arm over the warm and peaceful body beside him, the body that can apparently sleep through Orlando having a minor nervous breakdown. Which is good to know. "Fuck off, Dom," he says tiredly. "Sleep now."
"Orlando, wakey wakey. I'm putting you on speaker phone now and you're going to tell us all about it. And if you don't…."
Orlando opens a suspicious eye at the overly confident tone. Little bastards. "What?"
He can practically hear the smug grin. "If you don't, we won't tell you about the *other* photo we've found."
Oh fuck.
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This is interesting.
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MWAH!
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