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fellowshippers2004-02-19 12:30 am
indriyani.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-02-19 12:30 am
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Title: “Disclosure”
Author: Chrissy.
Pairing: OB/KB, Orlijah.
Rating: PG-13, unless you don't particularly enjoy "the F-word".
Warnings: Contains a bit of angst.
Disclaimer: Completely untrue; fiction.
Summary: Kate knows.
Author's Note: This is set subsequently to the release of Elijah Wood's film Hooligans on DVD so is obviously futuristic.
The conversation of a young, attractive couple in love should be one of an agreeable nature. It is supposed, when a person observes a couple of such temperament they involuntarily feel a twinge of envy, unless their own good fortune of being in a similar situation allows them to only be oblivious.
The couple being spoken of were now sitting in Bistro 45 and it could be assumed that even if a person did indeed share their fortune, the envy would be too strong to suppress.
They overwhelmed. White, faultless teeth bright on happy faces, and not just common faces but striking faces, and their attention towards one another did not make them any less sickening for their good looks. It was as if streaking could be considered a normal ritual, neither of them would blink twice.
However, at this table, appearance was everything, even in the terms of one another. Tonight though, could not be the case for Kate Bosworth. She swirled her champagne and knew that this particular “appearance” could only be stomached for a few minutes longer as she laughed at another outrageous joke that might not have had the same affect had Orlando’s laugh not been so endearing after telling it. It was difficult for even a person who admittedly disliked him to prohibit themselves to smiling admirably at him when the edges of his eyes crinkled. His character was contagious, spreading his personality eagerly and obliviously forcing people to accept him without their consent, even if it was only in their subconscious people accepted and admired Orlando Bloom.
When his head tilted, as it usually does right before he is about to think of something new to say, she took the opportunity to speak, ignoring the fact that conversation had been light before this particular moment she decided to harden it.
“Orli, I have to tell you something important.” Her voice did not contain a tone that would have alerted him, but of course, even if it had meaning Orlando was distracted often, and though he is usually listening it takes him a moment or two to register any spoken words and after those moments pass, the tone can be easily forgotten unless it is one of a more severe nature.
He looked at her with a smile and leaned in, attentive as any lover would be, “Yes pet, what is it?”
She blinked her hesitancy and though his attention span was something to be gained, he had perception and noted this change in her disposition as he furrowed his brows, “anything wrong?” he asked.
She looked down at the napkin in her lap, twisting the edges of it and than smoothing it out delicately, she started slightly, “Oh, well,” but couldn’t avoid his gaze, it was ardent and though it had the ability to make her uneasy she was too determined not to let it make her delivery weak. She knew she had to address this or it would never come out, “Orli, I know.” she spoke with a quietness that made him raise his eyebrows in a manner that could indicate his not having heard her.
Before he could ask what she meant she continued, looking at him directly in his eyes and speaking in a voice audible only for the two of them, “I know that you’re in love with Elijah, or,” she faltered at that moment when his reaction was one of perplexity but continued anyway, “or at least you’re obsessed with him.” and as he was opening his mouth in clear protestation. She shook her head and reached over to grab his hand, “no I -- well it’s okay, I’ve been, well I think it was denial or something of the kind. I love you, I think you love me, I know you love me, but --
“I think you’ve gone off your rocker, sweetheart,” he chuckled warmly and caressed her hand with his thumb even though its hold on him was not a gesture of affection but more sympathy and comfort as it squeezed, “Elijah Wood?” he let his laugh ring out a bit louder when he felt more comfortable, “Elijah? How could -- what possessed you to believe --
She pulled out of his hand easily, and her face changed, her demeanor stiffening, “How can I? What possessed me?”
His composed state altered at once when he recognized her constitution was one of assurance and held very little doubt. He didn’t outwardly change, but panic rose steadily inside of him.
Her tone was one of desperation when he didn‘t respond. “Explain to me why you own every single DVD of his, but they are all hidden? Explain to me why you bought Hooligans the very day it was released?” it was a tone that could easily be pitied when she simply stated, “tell me why, Orli, tell me why and make it better. Let me understand. Tell me I’m wrong, tell me I‘m jumping to conclusions.”
His attention span had left, his eyes dancing around the room as his security departed, embarrassment evident to only Kate and his eagerness to leave heavy in his chest. “Not here.” he finally said, a whisper short of a beg, “not now.”
With this confirmation, the knowledge that her suspicions could be verified as truth, she felt her skin prickle and a sinking feeling that was enough to make her vomit with only the emotion of anxiety inducing it. She stared at him for a long moment though her fixed gaze unreturned, finally saying, “Then let’s go. Let’s talk.” and getting up without his submission.
…
There was a distinct clean smell to Orlando and Kate’s apartment, they had lived together for a year though neither had spent very much time in it. Kate’s sugary scent was immediately more dominating and only mingled with Orlando’s musky scent behind the often closed doors of their bedroom.
It was basic where one would expect extravagant, it was tidy only on first impressions and had an airy feel to it mainly due to lack of time spent there to decorate to satisfaction. As Kate walked in she hung up her coat in an empty closet and took a seat without contemplation. Orlando’s approach was different as he shifted from foot to foot in the doorway and jingled his car keys in his left pocket.
The first thing out of Kate’s mouth could have been surprising. “Do you love me?”
He looked at her face, heightened colour on her cheekbones, lips puffed out, a sharp nose and blue eyes (that were almost quite as … but they weren’t) that were surrounded and accentuated with thick, black lashes and stared with purpose defining their contour. He replied with a meek “yes” a little under a minute after she asked and came forward, taking a seat directly next to her and positioning his stance towards her, their knees touching as she imitated this act. “I do,” he added more strongly, “I do love you Kate.” but his voice was sad.
She could only lick her lips and say, “Tell me, then.”
He diverted his eyes as quickly as she spoke and sat back at a little, lengthening the space between them and reflexively rubbing his palms against his knees, they had gotten moist without his notice. “It’s not …” he broke off and laughed inappropriately in a way familiar to her, “it’s not that simple.”
“Can I make it any easier?” she asked with consideration.
He didn’t answer.
“When did it start, why, are you … do you think you’re trying to --” she abruptly stopped, confused by her own words and trying to find the right ones with failure.
He only could put his (still damp despite frequent rubbing) palm over his face in response to this and let his words sound muffled with his answer, “He was in love with me.”
She couldn’t find her reply, so she waited as he restlessly changed many of his arrangements of sitting and struggled to appear untroubled as he laid back in the corner of the sofa. He would have succeeded had he not still been rubbing his palms anxiously wherever they seemed to land.
He continued without looking at her, “he told me, one night. I should remember that night, but I laughed at him and can only remember the exact words I said, and the way I ruffled his hair and teased him.” he took in a shaky breath, but his composure was fairly intact, “I didn’t think he was serious but I remember hearing him say it again, and all I could do was apologize, this stuttered, stupid apology, man. So stupid. And he shrugged it off, you know? He just, I remember it was awkward. He just shrugged it off and I heard his laugh once for the rest of the night.” he seemed to find this amusing, but he often laughed when discomfort was present.
If positions were exchanged, what could any person find themselves saying in response to this? Kate couldn’t even reach out to touch him, her disposition frozen and her face unable to conceal how taken aback she was.
“The following night things were better, he treated me as one mate would treat another and nothing was complicated, we laughed and chatted and joked same as always, and we found ourselves alone,” his eyebrows were raised slightly, as if the moment was unfolding before him. Kate could only listen, a feeling of dread trapping her heart in her throat as he went on,
“… it was the most intense channel, I didn’t think I was going to wipeout for at least another five minutes, what a fucking rush.” brown eyes grew big and dramatic, feigned exasperation when he added, barking loud enough to be heard from the next room, “and than Billy had to drop in. Fucking kook!”
The Scottish reply came thick and faraway but heard with humour from the two men, “Aye, can’t help it if I happen to be a little more adept than you, Orli!”
“It looked fantastic, anyhow.” Elijah leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest, looking at Orlando with an intensity that failed to be noticed despite revelations from the previous night.
“It felt fantastic.”
But he did look at him just then, and forgetting to heed to the obstruction that would come of it, disregarding any protestations resounding clear in the back of his head, he stepped forward.
“I was kissing him, I had initiated it, Kate. I grabbed the back of his head, my fingers clenching his hair. I can still feel it, I fucking feel it everyday.”
She visibly flinched but he was unable to notice, his eyes unchanging in their resolve to look upon anything other than her.
“It was dangerous, you know? My heart felt like it was going to leap out of my chest. It was like, my adrenaline was towering off the charts, more than it ever had. I had no restraint and as I was kissing him, this, this fucking dramatic “I’m going to pull you all of the way inside of me” kind of kiss … I wasn’t thinking. He bit my bottom lip, fucking tugged on it and God, I thought that it was my undoing, every part of him was absorbed in me, I thought he was going to tear the collar right off of my shirt, he just kept bringing me down. There was nothing, nothing in my mind except for this voice, this fucking voice.”
He felt his hands come up without his assent , and they broke apart, prying fingers off and receiving a second, a third kiss out of fervor; Elijah’s breath broken and frantic with a bottomless lust and desperation that even the most sensible person could not refuse. This was probably why Orlando chose to avert his gaze, his own breath ragged and confusion twisting his face.
The expression given was the only suggestion for Elijah to comprehend his full intentions, and it was comprehended with concealed destruction. Inwardly he fell apart, outwardly, even as Orlando left the room without discretion or an explanation, he only fought to control his breathing.
“And that was it,” he clapped his hands together, his lips tight, his eyes unblinking and devoid of sentiment, “that was bloody it. We finished filming, we remained good mates. We went to premieres, we ached for each other. I know we did.” he was sitting up as he spoke now, an eyebrow raised with thought, “he dated. We pretended. I pretended.” he looked up finally, his eyes connecting with hers, she was sitting with a feeling of suspense evident in her posture, “I met you.” he breathed.
She breathed.
He laughed, its familiarity now disregarded as she found herself hating the sound, but listened as he went on. “I pretended some more, didn’t I?”
An answer wouldn’t have been entirely suitable. She remained unmoving.
“Fuck if I know what I am to him, Kate. Fuck if I know. I don’t know what he is to me,” his hands rubbed his face with frustration and a bit of exhaustion, “but I was an arse. I still see him look at me the way he did that night, when he told me he loved me.” he let out a small noise at this, it could have been taken as a grunt or an amused snigger directed towards himself, or even a brief sigh, whatever it had been it was how he ended his explanation to Kate, and even with her urging for more, demanding he owed her further clarification of his feelings, he could only tell her that he wanted to go to bed.
“Fine,” her voice was curt, “please, make yourself comfortable on the couch.”
For once his eyes had stayed with hers, “I’m going out for a bit.”
She looked at him with incredulity, and when he didn’t grant her any feelings of peace after her expression clearly stated her disapproval, she only shook her head. “Great, fucking great Orli. Go out.”
He moved in, to apologize perhaps, but she recoiled with disappointment, “I’ll be here.” and she walked to their bedroom, closing the doors with controlled resentment.
In the elevator, Orlando waited for the service on his cell phone to return so he could phone Dominic and arrange for a place to stay for the night.
Author: Chrissy.
Pairing: OB/KB, Orlijah.
Rating: PG-13, unless you don't particularly enjoy "the F-word".
Warnings: Contains a bit of angst.
Disclaimer: Completely untrue; fiction.
Summary: Kate knows.
Author's Note: This is set subsequently to the release of Elijah Wood's film Hooligans on DVD so is obviously futuristic.
The conversation of a young, attractive couple in love should be one of an agreeable nature. It is supposed, when a person observes a couple of such temperament they involuntarily feel a twinge of envy, unless their own good fortune of being in a similar situation allows them to only be oblivious.
The couple being spoken of were now sitting in Bistro 45 and it could be assumed that even if a person did indeed share their fortune, the envy would be too strong to suppress.
They overwhelmed. White, faultless teeth bright on happy faces, and not just common faces but striking faces, and their attention towards one another did not make them any less sickening for their good looks. It was as if streaking could be considered a normal ritual, neither of them would blink twice.
However, at this table, appearance was everything, even in the terms of one another. Tonight though, could not be the case for Kate Bosworth. She swirled her champagne and knew that this particular “appearance” could only be stomached for a few minutes longer as she laughed at another outrageous joke that might not have had the same affect had Orlando’s laugh not been so endearing after telling it. It was difficult for even a person who admittedly disliked him to prohibit themselves to smiling admirably at him when the edges of his eyes crinkled. His character was contagious, spreading his personality eagerly and obliviously forcing people to accept him without their consent, even if it was only in their subconscious people accepted and admired Orlando Bloom.
When his head tilted, as it usually does right before he is about to think of something new to say, she took the opportunity to speak, ignoring the fact that conversation had been light before this particular moment she decided to harden it.
“Orli, I have to tell you something important.” Her voice did not contain a tone that would have alerted him, but of course, even if it had meaning Orlando was distracted often, and though he is usually listening it takes him a moment or two to register any spoken words and after those moments pass, the tone can be easily forgotten unless it is one of a more severe nature.
He looked at her with a smile and leaned in, attentive as any lover would be, “Yes pet, what is it?”
She blinked her hesitancy and though his attention span was something to be gained, he had perception and noted this change in her disposition as he furrowed his brows, “anything wrong?” he asked.
She looked down at the napkin in her lap, twisting the edges of it and than smoothing it out delicately, she started slightly, “Oh, well,” but couldn’t avoid his gaze, it was ardent and though it had the ability to make her uneasy she was too determined not to let it make her delivery weak. She knew she had to address this or it would never come out, “Orli, I know.” she spoke with a quietness that made him raise his eyebrows in a manner that could indicate his not having heard her.
Before he could ask what she meant she continued, looking at him directly in his eyes and speaking in a voice audible only for the two of them, “I know that you’re in love with Elijah, or,” she faltered at that moment when his reaction was one of perplexity but continued anyway, “or at least you’re obsessed with him.” and as he was opening his mouth in clear protestation. She shook her head and reached over to grab his hand, “no I -- well it’s okay, I’ve been, well I think it was denial or something of the kind. I love you, I think you love me, I know you love me, but --
“I think you’ve gone off your rocker, sweetheart,” he chuckled warmly and caressed her hand with his thumb even though its hold on him was not a gesture of affection but more sympathy and comfort as it squeezed, “Elijah Wood?” he let his laugh ring out a bit louder when he felt more comfortable, “Elijah? How could -- what possessed you to believe --
She pulled out of his hand easily, and her face changed, her demeanor stiffening, “How can I? What possessed me?”
His composed state altered at once when he recognized her constitution was one of assurance and held very little doubt. He didn’t outwardly change, but panic rose steadily inside of him.
Her tone was one of desperation when he didn‘t respond. “Explain to me why you own every single DVD of his, but they are all hidden? Explain to me why you bought Hooligans the very day it was released?” it was a tone that could easily be pitied when she simply stated, “tell me why, Orli, tell me why and make it better. Let me understand. Tell me I’m wrong, tell me I‘m jumping to conclusions.”
His attention span had left, his eyes dancing around the room as his security departed, embarrassment evident to only Kate and his eagerness to leave heavy in his chest. “Not here.” he finally said, a whisper short of a beg, “not now.”
With this confirmation, the knowledge that her suspicions could be verified as truth, she felt her skin prickle and a sinking feeling that was enough to make her vomit with only the emotion of anxiety inducing it. She stared at him for a long moment though her fixed gaze unreturned, finally saying, “Then let’s go. Let’s talk.” and getting up without his submission.
There was a distinct clean smell to Orlando and Kate’s apartment, they had lived together for a year though neither had spent very much time in it. Kate’s sugary scent was immediately more dominating and only mingled with Orlando’s musky scent behind the often closed doors of their bedroom.
It was basic where one would expect extravagant, it was tidy only on first impressions and had an airy feel to it mainly due to lack of time spent there to decorate to satisfaction. As Kate walked in she hung up her coat in an empty closet and took a seat without contemplation. Orlando’s approach was different as he shifted from foot to foot in the doorway and jingled his car keys in his left pocket.
The first thing out of Kate’s mouth could have been surprising. “Do you love me?”
He looked at her face, heightened colour on her cheekbones, lips puffed out, a sharp nose and blue eyes (that were almost quite as … but they weren’t) that were surrounded and accentuated with thick, black lashes and stared with purpose defining their contour. He replied with a meek “yes” a little under a minute after she asked and came forward, taking a seat directly next to her and positioning his stance towards her, their knees touching as she imitated this act. “I do,” he added more strongly, “I do love you Kate.” but his voice was sad.
She could only lick her lips and say, “Tell me, then.”
He diverted his eyes as quickly as she spoke and sat back at a little, lengthening the space between them and reflexively rubbing his palms against his knees, they had gotten moist without his notice. “It’s not …” he broke off and laughed inappropriately in a way familiar to her, “it’s not that simple.”
“Can I make it any easier?” she asked with consideration.
He didn’t answer.
“When did it start, why, are you … do you think you’re trying to --” she abruptly stopped, confused by her own words and trying to find the right ones with failure.
He only could put his (still damp despite frequent rubbing) palm over his face in response to this and let his words sound muffled with his answer, “He was in love with me.”
She couldn’t find her reply, so she waited as he restlessly changed many of his arrangements of sitting and struggled to appear untroubled as he laid back in the corner of the sofa. He would have succeeded had he not still been rubbing his palms anxiously wherever they seemed to land.
He continued without looking at her, “he told me, one night. I should remember that night, but I laughed at him and can only remember the exact words I said, and the way I ruffled his hair and teased him.” he took in a shaky breath, but his composure was fairly intact, “I didn’t think he was serious but I remember hearing him say it again, and all I could do was apologize, this stuttered, stupid apology, man. So stupid. And he shrugged it off, you know? He just, I remember it was awkward. He just shrugged it off and I heard his laugh once for the rest of the night.” he seemed to find this amusing, but he often laughed when discomfort was present.
If positions were exchanged, what could any person find themselves saying in response to this? Kate couldn’t even reach out to touch him, her disposition frozen and her face unable to conceal how taken aback she was.
“The following night things were better, he treated me as one mate would treat another and nothing was complicated, we laughed and chatted and joked same as always, and we found ourselves alone,” his eyebrows were raised slightly, as if the moment was unfolding before him. Kate could only listen, a feeling of dread trapping her heart in her throat as he went on,
“… it was the most intense channel, I didn’t think I was going to wipeout for at least another five minutes, what a fucking rush.” brown eyes grew big and dramatic, feigned exasperation when he added, barking loud enough to be heard from the next room, “and than Billy had to drop in. Fucking kook!”
The Scottish reply came thick and faraway but heard with humour from the two men, “Aye, can’t help it if I happen to be a little more adept than you, Orli!”
“It looked fantastic, anyhow.” Elijah leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest, looking at Orlando with an intensity that failed to be noticed despite revelations from the previous night.
“It felt fantastic.”
But he did look at him just then, and forgetting to heed to the obstruction that would come of it, disregarding any protestations resounding clear in the back of his head, he stepped forward.
“I was kissing him, I had initiated it, Kate. I grabbed the back of his head, my fingers clenching his hair. I can still feel it, I fucking feel it everyday.”
She visibly flinched but he was unable to notice, his eyes unchanging in their resolve to look upon anything other than her.
“It was dangerous, you know? My heart felt like it was going to leap out of my chest. It was like, my adrenaline was towering off the charts, more than it ever had. I had no restraint and as I was kissing him, this, this fucking dramatic “I’m going to pull you all of the way inside of me” kind of kiss … I wasn’t thinking. He bit my bottom lip, fucking tugged on it and God, I thought that it was my undoing, every part of him was absorbed in me, I thought he was going to tear the collar right off of my shirt, he just kept bringing me down. There was nothing, nothing in my mind except for this voice, this fucking voice.”
He felt his hands come up without his assent , and they broke apart, prying fingers off and receiving a second, a third kiss out of fervor; Elijah’s breath broken and frantic with a bottomless lust and desperation that even the most sensible person could not refuse. This was probably why Orlando chose to avert his gaze, his own breath ragged and confusion twisting his face.
The expression given was the only suggestion for Elijah to comprehend his full intentions, and it was comprehended with concealed destruction. Inwardly he fell apart, outwardly, even as Orlando left the room without discretion or an explanation, he only fought to control his breathing.
“And that was it,” he clapped his hands together, his lips tight, his eyes unblinking and devoid of sentiment, “that was bloody it. We finished filming, we remained good mates. We went to premieres, we ached for each other. I know we did.” he was sitting up as he spoke now, an eyebrow raised with thought, “he dated. We pretended. I pretended.” he looked up finally, his eyes connecting with hers, she was sitting with a feeling of suspense evident in her posture, “I met you.” he breathed.
She breathed.
He laughed, its familiarity now disregarded as she found herself hating the sound, but listened as he went on. “I pretended some more, didn’t I?”
An answer wouldn’t have been entirely suitable. She remained unmoving.
“Fuck if I know what I am to him, Kate. Fuck if I know. I don’t know what he is to me,” his hands rubbed his face with frustration and a bit of exhaustion, “but I was an arse. I still see him look at me the way he did that night, when he told me he loved me.” he let out a small noise at this, it could have been taken as a grunt or an amused snigger directed towards himself, or even a brief sigh, whatever it had been it was how he ended his explanation to Kate, and even with her urging for more, demanding he owed her further clarification of his feelings, he could only tell her that he wanted to go to bed.
“Fine,” her voice was curt, “please, make yourself comfortable on the couch.”
For once his eyes had stayed with hers, “I’m going out for a bit.”
She looked at him with incredulity, and when he didn’t grant her any feelings of peace after her expression clearly stated her disapproval, she only shook her head. “Great, fucking great Orli. Go out.”
He moved in, to apologize perhaps, but she recoiled with disappointment, “I’ll be here.” and she walked to their bedroom, closing the doors with controlled resentment.
In the elevator, Orlando waited for the service on his cell phone to return so he could phone Dominic and arrange for a place to stay for the night.