fellowshippers | Coming To Terms. (1/4)

TITLE: Coming to Terms (1/4)

RATING: PG-13 (this segment, anyways)

DISCLAIMER: Don’t know the, they surely don’t now me, and if they did, I would be very happily surprised

FEEDBACK: But of course, for it is the stuff of life* grins*

Hey all. I would be what one would term “a newbie” to this community, and this would be my first post. I hope you like the first part of my fic, what my roomate called “the exposition segue into the sex”. Enjoy.

/t’s all in the way that they look at each other. Not staring, love struck, like silly young teenagers or stars in romantic comedies. It’s about the stolen glances out of the corner of their eyes, when they don’t think that anyone else is watching. It’s how they’re always so hyperaware of each other, when they’re in the same room – like one of them moving, shifting in his seat, stretching, sends out vibrations down the spidersilk lines tying them to one another. It’s about how, even in the middle of a normal conversation with one of the three of them, even when they think that they’re giving you their undivided attetnion, that there’s a part of them absent, always searching for the others.

It’s a wonderful thing, these connection between people. It’s deep, and it’s strong, and it’s subgconscious – and it’s also very lonely to not be apart of.

Orlando knew long before they told him that his best mates loved each other.

They were all affectionate, the whole cast. His mates. They were always hugging or touching or joking around and punching each other or pretending to snog for the cameras – or doing a little bit of actual snogging in more private surrounds, just because they could, and it was comfortable, and it was how they were and how they knew how to be. Just the lads together, being lads, where no one else cared.

But then it began to change. The three of them would do more than just act on each other in passing, like he did with Viggo or with Sean, teasing the older men about their undoubted “prowess” or giving them a friendly hug or a quick snog hello. Slowly, there was no more teasing amongst the three of them, or at least not that kind of teashing. They were at the same time more bawdy and silly than ever, but underneath it all was a pulsating stillness that seemed to weave itself between them, layering them in something that kept everyone else out.

Kept him out.

He didn’t want to be in on it, and yet he did.

He loved them, loved them as the best mates a bloke could ever hope to find this side of eternity, and perhaps even there. His life was so neatly compartmentalized that it scared him sometimes: pre-New Zealand, New Zealand, and the rest of his life after that. And there were so few of them there who lived through it, who knew what it was like to be more than a team, more than family, more than brothers – although he didn’t have a word to put to what it was that they had all become. It made him scream sometimes, to be back in the real world, making other movies, being in other casts, doing other things. He sometimes felt that he would burst, to know that there was this whole wonderful thing that he had been, this whold amazing, fucking brilliant experience that had been his that he couldn’t reclaim.

And when the lads got together it was still good, still right – but there was a shading to their meetings that held sorrow, at least for him. For the next morning wouldn’t be them waking up in New Zealand, ready to work their arses off and have the time of their lives. Because that part was over, over forever, and he could never get it back.

Nothing was as good for him after that, but it seemed to be even better for his friends, and for that he envied the, envied them so much that it created a void deep within his soul that kept him from sleeping, kept him from truly enjoying the life that he now led.

“Orlando!” Elijah howled as he walked down the hallway towards the waiting trio of hobbits, the airplane and the anxious flight now literaly behind him. He smiled, his face breaking into a wide grin, as the three of them started hopping up and down. They’d made a silly sign, just like they had the last time he’d visited them. That time it had been a pirate flag with big red letters that had read “Only Orlis are our Captain!”. He had been terribly embarassed, espetially when the fans had spotted it and had come running over.

This time it was a large promotion picture of Brad Pitt from Troy, with a big bulls eye on him.

“Cupid’s got nothing on you, Orli!” it said in the expected big, red letters.

Orlando felt himself blush, then rushed the rest of the way towards them, dropped his bags to the ground, and picked up each one in turn for a big, swinging, hug, planted a big snog on each one, then dropped them to the ground. Three matching hobbit grins smiled up at him, and he grinned in returen even though his heart was breaking as he noticed how the three of them still kept a side long lookout for each other, still had their spider-silk tingling

“Look at the lot of you wankers! Still trying to impress me with silly little pressies!”

“There’s nothing silly or little about our present, Orlando,” Billy began, trying to sound stern. “A lot of effort and hard work went into creating this thing of beauty, and you better start to appreciate it before we send your teen hearthrob, pointy-eared self right back on the airplane.

“Missed you too, Boyd,” Orlando replied.

They gathered up his things and began the trek across the airport to baggage claim, only having to stop twice for pictures. One over enthusiastic female fan managed to cajole him and Elijah into an embrace, and even talked them into stage-kissing for the camera. She muttered something about “Orlijah,”, smacked a kiss on Elijah’s cheek, and raced off.

The three hobbits were still giggling about it when they got to baggage claim.

“What the bleeding hell was she going on about, with that Orlijah business?” Orlando demanded, grabbing his brown leather suitcases off of the conveyor belt.

“Oh, nothing,” Dom replied with just a bit too much innocence.

“Really?” Orlando said, raising an eyebrow. He turned his back on Dom, and smiled charmingly at Billy and Elijah. “Did I ever tell you lads about the time that Dom and I went to that strip club in Birmingham? Real friendly, those girls are there –“

“Orlijah,” Dom cut in, grabbing ahold of Orlando’s arm and dragging him literally out of story telling mode, “is a term that some of the fans have started using.”

After a moment's pause, Orlando sighed. “Why thank you, Dominic, because I surely hadn’t figured that much out on me own.”

Elijah giggled. “Orlijah is stories that they write about us. You and me, Orli, doing nasty, naughty things to each other.” At Orlando’s shocked look, he continued. “It’s actually kind of funny, and some of it really is pretty hot.”

“Espeically the ones where you fuck him chained up until he cries. Those are the best,” Billy added with a wicked grin. “Great characterization.”

Orlando sighed. “I sould have guessed. After Pirates, it was like I couldn’t walk two feet without everyone asking if I was shagging Johnny.”

“Did you?”

“Dom!”

“Well, I would have. He’s an incredible piece of tail, that one. Loved the eyeliner.” He gave Orlando a speculative look. “Wonder how it’d look on you?

“Better on me than on your own sad self, that’s a certainty. Now, can we get the fuck out of this airport, or is my whole visit to this town going to be spent cotemplating the dirty minds of fangirls everywhere in a airport where I’m not even going to be able to have a bleedin’ smoke?”

“You smoke now, Orli?” Elijah asked. Those peircing blue eyes stared into his, suddenly quite serious, and Orlando felt himself being torn in two.

I want this, I want what they are, I want to be a part of that, I love them – one part of him cried. I love him, but I don’t want him, not in that way, not like that. I wish it were as simple as that.

“I have to have something to do when I can’t sleep, now don’t I?”

“You’ve been having trouble sleeping, mate?” Dom asked, his voice low and concerned.

“Just a bit here and there, you know,” everynight, everynight that I go to sleep alone, uncertain of what I’ll find in the morning, while you three are here together, “No big deal.”

“All right then. Dinner first?” Billy asked.

“Dinner then,” Orlando nodded, and tried not to feel that empty place inside him as his best mates walked ahead of him, almostnotquitebutreallyseceretlytouching.

“Dinner, and then we’ll see,” he whispered to himself.

Coming To Terms. (1/4)

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