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fellowshippers2003-10-24 11:54 am
ananke9.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2003-10-24 11:54 am
We Know What You Did..... (Orlando/? R 2/3)
Title: We Know What You Did….. (Part 2/3)
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 can be found here
Part Two
It's entirely the fault of the never-ending glass of champagne, Orlando decides afterwards. There shouldn't be any such thing; it's just a bad idea. Or, if there is such a thing, then there should also be someone whose job it is to keep him out of trouble. In his life there are actually a number of people who fit that description, some by profession and some for whom it's just a hobby, but none of these people are at the party.
It all seems good at the time.
He gets the 'suave and serious' interviews out of the way before the champagne arrives, and his agent can just be thankful in the morning for small mercies. And then he's wandering, and being hugged a lot, and at some point he finds he has champagne. He doesn't know where it came from, but no problem, it's all good. The funny thing is, even though he knows he's drinking quite a lot of it, he never reaches the end of the glass. Nor does he ever catch the magical refilling pixies, but after a while he doesn't much care about that either.
At some point he meets Adrien, who has also discovered the secret of never-emptying champagne glasses, and they both agree that it's good to be them. Perhaps it's the drink or perhaps it's the fact that they've got the 'I have such respect for your talents as an ac-tor' shit out of the way before, but they quickly descend into banter and piss-taking. Snogging Halle Berry at the Oscars. Having fourteen million fan sites in one's name. Orlando is already laughing helplessly when he stumbles over someone's handbag and saves himself a pratfall only by catching himself on someone's shoulder. Someone has long dark hair and a lot of red lipstick and doesn't seem at all perturbed by the incident. As she smiles sweetly, Adrien wraps an arm around his waist and moves him quickly out of harm's way, excusing his friend's, "Elven grace." They flee the scene, shaking with laughter.
"This is turning out better then I expected," Orlando declares decisively, impressed with how his glass is once again full, despite the minor accident. Cool. "These things are always so bloody…." He notices his friend's preoccupation with something other than alcohol and follows his line of vision. Heh. "Or you could just ignore me and keep drooling over Charlize."
"Yeah. Sorry," says Adrien, not sounding noticeably so. "Fuck."
Orlando snorts. "You've got it bad, man. C'mon, I'll introduce you."
Adrien shrugs. "Isn't she going out with someone? Can't remember his name?"
"Stu. Stuart Townshend. C'mon, doesn't mean you can't meet her." He waggles his tongue suggestively, wondering just how dead Stu would kill him should he overhear. On second thoughts, probably not as dead as Charlize would.
Adrien has brightened considerably. "Really. They're not…?"
He leaves the question open and Orlando shrugs vaguely before grinning widely. "Depends on the circumstances."
Adrien's eyes open wider and, as though coming to an important conclusion, he waves a finger in the air. "Well then, let's go. And then when you've introduced me, you can go and be somewhere else. Don't want you hanging around looking pretty."
They're laughing again, and heading in the general direction of Charlize and her circle of admirers.
"You know, just for that, I'm gonna hang around and look pretty. Don't worry about it mate, last time I saw her she threatened to castrate me, I don't think you're gonna have too much competition."
Before Adrien can ask, Orlando is greeting Charlize with a relatively restrained hug and a 'Hey babe, didn't expect to see you here."
Charlize squeals, hugs him, and then remembers something, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at him.
"Hey, didn't I…?" she begins, but is interrupted by -
"Yeah, but you've forgiven me."
"I have? Why have I forgiven you?"
"Because this," Orlando steps aside to gesture dramatically, "is Adrien Brody. I don't believe you've met."
Adrien gives a little bow, and kisses her hand. Charlize is charmed.
"I'm so pleased to meet you. I really loved The Pianist…."
Happy with a job well done, Orlando slips away and leaves them to it.
****
"A-ha," says Dom cynically. "You're such a fucking knight, Bloom. Or what some might call a pimp. You were just doing a favour for a friend, that's all it was."
"Sure." Orlando wonders if he'll be allowed back to sleep soon.
There is a sound of whispered consultation on the other end of the line. He can make out Elijah saying 'Why was Charlize mad with him?' and Dom's reply of, 'Oh, you know. The thing last summer.' He tries to ignore them; wonders if it's a good time to hang up, while they're nice and preoccupied. Before he can act on this reliable instinct -
"Our official position," declares Dom, "is that we don't believe you. Come on, tell us the rest."
"No rest," mumbles Orlando, closing his eyes. Rest. Rest would be good.
"Yeah right. You didn't go home with Charlize. You didn't go home with Adrien. You didn't drag them back to your place for group sex. So - tell us."
"Is it so unbelievable that I might have gone home alone?" His indignant pronouncement might carry more weight if it wasn't punctuated by a snoring grunt from beside him. Fuck.
"Well apart from the fact that, you know, we *know* you, you're forgetting something." Dom sounds smug again, a tone that never fails to fill Orlando's heart with fear, unless they happen to be on the same side, ganging up against some other poor sod.
"Other photo," he remembers, gloomily. His stomach does a backflip at the thought of possible photos. And the queue of people lining up to torture him over them later. "What is it? Dom, you said you'd tell."
His pitiful plea is met with merciless laughter. "We'll tell you when you tell us," shouts Elijah.
"Get on with it," calls Dom. "Some of us have lives you know."
"Yeah right," mutters Orlando in weary frustration. "That's why you were surfing the bloody web looking up pictures of me. Oh, alright then. Fine."
And realising that they have him caught, he gets ready to tell them the rest of the story.
tbc
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 can be found here
Part Two
It's entirely the fault of the never-ending glass of champagne, Orlando decides afterwards. There shouldn't be any such thing; it's just a bad idea. Or, if there is such a thing, then there should also be someone whose job it is to keep him out of trouble. In his life there are actually a number of people who fit that description, some by profession and some for whom it's just a hobby, but none of these people are at the party.
It all seems good at the time.
He gets the 'suave and serious' interviews out of the way before the champagne arrives, and his agent can just be thankful in the morning for small mercies. And then he's wandering, and being hugged a lot, and at some point he finds he has champagne. He doesn't know where it came from, but no problem, it's all good. The funny thing is, even though he knows he's drinking quite a lot of it, he never reaches the end of the glass. Nor does he ever catch the magical refilling pixies, but after a while he doesn't much care about that either.
At some point he meets Adrien, who has also discovered the secret of never-emptying champagne glasses, and they both agree that it's good to be them. Perhaps it's the drink or perhaps it's the fact that they've got the 'I have such respect for your talents as an ac-tor' shit out of the way before, but they quickly descend into banter and piss-taking. Snogging Halle Berry at the Oscars. Having fourteen million fan sites in one's name. Orlando is already laughing helplessly when he stumbles over someone's handbag and saves himself a pratfall only by catching himself on someone's shoulder. Someone has long dark hair and a lot of red lipstick and doesn't seem at all perturbed by the incident. As she smiles sweetly, Adrien wraps an arm around his waist and moves him quickly out of harm's way, excusing his friend's, "Elven grace." They flee the scene, shaking with laughter.
"This is turning out better then I expected," Orlando declares decisively, impressed with how his glass is once again full, despite the minor accident. Cool. "These things are always so bloody…." He notices his friend's preoccupation with something other than alcohol and follows his line of vision. Heh. "Or you could just ignore me and keep drooling over Charlize."
"Yeah. Sorry," says Adrien, not sounding noticeably so. "Fuck."
Orlando snorts. "You've got it bad, man. C'mon, I'll introduce you."
Adrien shrugs. "Isn't she going out with someone? Can't remember his name?"
"Stu. Stuart Townshend. C'mon, doesn't mean you can't meet her." He waggles his tongue suggestively, wondering just how dead Stu would kill him should he overhear. On second thoughts, probably not as dead as Charlize would.
Adrien has brightened considerably. "Really. They're not…?"
He leaves the question open and Orlando shrugs vaguely before grinning widely. "Depends on the circumstances."
Adrien's eyes open wider and, as though coming to an important conclusion, he waves a finger in the air. "Well then, let's go. And then when you've introduced me, you can go and be somewhere else. Don't want you hanging around looking pretty."
They're laughing again, and heading in the general direction of Charlize and her circle of admirers.
"You know, just for that, I'm gonna hang around and look pretty. Don't worry about it mate, last time I saw her she threatened to castrate me, I don't think you're gonna have too much competition."
Before Adrien can ask, Orlando is greeting Charlize with a relatively restrained hug and a 'Hey babe, didn't expect to see you here."
Charlize squeals, hugs him, and then remembers something, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at him.
"Hey, didn't I…?" she begins, but is interrupted by -
"Yeah, but you've forgiven me."
"I have? Why have I forgiven you?"
"Because this," Orlando steps aside to gesture dramatically, "is Adrien Brody. I don't believe you've met."
Adrien gives a little bow, and kisses her hand. Charlize is charmed.
"I'm so pleased to meet you. I really loved The Pianist…."
Happy with a job well done, Orlando slips away and leaves them to it.
****
"A-ha," says Dom cynically. "You're such a fucking knight, Bloom. Or what some might call a pimp. You were just doing a favour for a friend, that's all it was."
"Sure." Orlando wonders if he'll be allowed back to sleep soon.
There is a sound of whispered consultation on the other end of the line. He can make out Elijah saying 'Why was Charlize mad with him?' and Dom's reply of, 'Oh, you know. The thing last summer.' He tries to ignore them; wonders if it's a good time to hang up, while they're nice and preoccupied. Before he can act on this reliable instinct -
"Our official position," declares Dom, "is that we don't believe you. Come on, tell us the rest."
"No rest," mumbles Orlando, closing his eyes. Rest. Rest would be good.
"Yeah right. You didn't go home with Charlize. You didn't go home with Adrien. You didn't drag them back to your place for group sex. So - tell us."
"Is it so unbelievable that I might have gone home alone?" His indignant pronouncement might carry more weight if it wasn't punctuated by a snoring grunt from beside him. Fuck.
"Well apart from the fact that, you know, we *know* you, you're forgetting something." Dom sounds smug again, a tone that never fails to fill Orlando's heart with fear, unless they happen to be on the same side, ganging up against some other poor sod.
"Other photo," he remembers, gloomily. His stomach does a backflip at the thought of possible photos. And the queue of people lining up to torture him over them later. "What is it? Dom, you said you'd tell."
His pitiful plea is met with merciless laughter. "We'll tell you when you tell us," shouts Elijah.
"Get on with it," calls Dom. "Some of us have lives you know."
"Yeah right," mutters Orlando in weary frustration. "That's why you were surfing the bloody web looking up pictures of me. Oh, alright then. Fine."
And realising that they have him caught, he gets ready to tell them the rest of the story.
tbc
no subject
Other than the evilness of your cliffhangers, much enjoyed :D
MWAH!
no subject
Come one - keep writing this!! I'm really enjoying the hobbits' teasing and the slow unfolding of the story.
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no subject
EEEK. LOL Where's the next part, huh huh? ^_^
no subject
That's so ..... EVIL!!! (but i mean that in the best way *wink*)
Can't wait for the rest!
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It's so...cute. :)
no subject
(*loves it*)