Date: Sat, 28 Feb 2004 22:04:19 +0000
From: Maddy <madi_mcfarland@hotmail.com>
Subject: Orli, Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I do not know Orlando Bloom or any other celebrities who may or
may not appear in this story. It's a work of fiction, that I made up.
Although, my birthday is the same day as Orlando's. I don't know how that
affects anything, but I just like to tell people. I have no idea of
Orlando's sexuality, but this story is not implying anything about it.
Again, I say, FICTION.

This story isn't going to be all sexy, all the time. It'll probably get
steamy, but you'll have to give it a while. It's like soup. It needs to
simmer before it can boil. However, any eroticness you do read, is going to
be homosexual man-on-man action, so if you're under 21, 18 or however the
hell old you have to be where you are, go and have a sandwich. If the
thought of guys doing 'stuff' offends you, you might want to go and have a
snack also.

Well, I think that's about it. Oh, no, hang about. If you steal my story I
will be very angry. E-Mail me before you post it anywhere else, or ooh, I'll
be cross.

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Previously . . .

'Well, goodnight, Matty,' he said, then on what was apparently an impulse he
turned back and kissed my cheek, before turning around and quickly shutting
his door behind him. I heard the key twist in the lock, and then I was on my
own in the corridor.

I slowly touched a hand to my cheek. It hadn't burned off with the heat, but
the way it was building I was going to lose the outer layers soon.

Orlando Bloom just kissed my cheek.

He just kissed my cheek.

He just kissed me.

My cheek.

Me.

Oh God.

I leant back against my door. My door which, tragically, I'd unlocked five
minutes ago and left ajar. I let out a resigned 'oh, crap' as I plummeted to
the floor and as my head bonked to a rest I sighed again. 'Ouch.'

I shuffled into my room and kicked the door shut, before pulling myself up
and locking it. I put a hand to my cheek again.

This has to mean something, right? He kissed my cheek. Except . . . we're
both actors. It's an actory thing to do. Maybe he was just being polite.

For the second time in as many days, I put my head in my hands. Then, not
willing to lose beauty sleep over it, I slipped into my 'I Heart Love' PJs
and went to bed.

To Be Continued.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

ORLI

Chapter Five

I woke up the next morning with a smile on my face.

I'd just had a really nice dream - I couldn't remember what it was about,
but I had a sneaky suspicion it had something to do with Orlando - and I was
in that gorgeous stage where you wake up but you don't open your eyes, so
that you feel like you're still asleep and you're so safe and warm and cosy
. . . ah I love my bed.

I frowned slightly when I realised that I was dribbling quite badly. My chin
was wet and I could feel a moistness on my pillow. I sighed, and licked the
drool off my chin, thankful that at least Orlando wasn't here yet.

Smiling at the thought of that little embarrassment avoided, I opened my
eyes.

'JEE-WHOA-OW!' Analysis: 'Jee' as I realised that Orlando's face was about a
foot from my own. 'Whoa' as I spun backwards like some kind of drunken
whirling dervish. 'Ow' as I spun my way right off the bed and ended up in a
tangle of sheets on the floor the other side.

'Shit!' yelped Orlando and threw himself clear over the bed in an attempt to
help me. Unfortunately exactly as he did that I managed to free my leg,
which left extra sheeting for him to wrap round me on his way down, his legs
landing on either side of my hips and effectively pinning me down. I blinked
up at him from between two folds of sheet.

'Do you mind? I'm not a horse.'

'Shit! Are you OK? Sorry!' said Orlando in quick succession, his eyes
looking so genuinely contrite that I actually felt sorry for him. Odd, since
I'd been the one spinning out of control.

'Are you kidding? You have been paying attention the last two days, right?
This is, like, playtime for me. Just wait till someone puts me near the
button that says "Nuclear Destruction: Do Not Touch" with a comically slippy
polished floor and I'll be off.'

We both laughed, and Orlando pulled the sheets away from my face.

I was suddenly really, really aware of his legs straddling my hips.

Orlando shifted slightly, and I froze as his thigh was suddenly pressed
against my now fully-awake cock. The damn thing responded eagerly to the
touch, even through pyjamas and the sheets, and started to grow along my hip
as Orlando's thigh pressed in harder. I bit my lip as Orlando's eyes met
mine.

'Are you OK?' he asked softly.

This was too much. It was bad enough that he knew I was insane, if he felt
me getting a hard-on just because he was sitting on me that would just slam
the nail right into the coffin. I threw myself upwards, noticing with a
wince that I was hurling possibly the most attractive actor in the world
onto my bed, and hurried to my ensuite, shouting, 'I AM FINE. I NEED A
SHOWER.'

It's my thing. When I'm nervous or under sexual tension, there's a whole
thing where I shout. I think it's a medical condition. I'm-a-twat-itis.

'You sure?' he called.

'YES I AM FINE! I AM JUST UNCLEAN! BECAUSE OF SLEEPING! AND WISH TO CLEAN
MYSELF!' I yammered back, feeling not unlike a gibbon, before leaning
against the shower and taking deep breaths. OK. Now I was in there, I might
as well get clean. I switched on the water, threw my PJs on the floor and
hopped in.

The hot water splashing across my skin was exactly what I needed. My
'excitement' faded as the water dampened my whole body, running down my
chest and legs and washing away the night's gunk and the morning's traumas.

I was just running a grateful hand through my hair when the door swung open
and Orlando strolled in.

'WHOA!' I yelped, hurling myself against the wall so that my ass was out of
sight. No, wait, what about my cock? I swung myself round to hide that. My
ass! Round again. My cock! Round again. Ass! Cock! Ass! Cock! Eventually I
just gave up and curled up on the floor of the shower and tried not to
drown.

'Sorry,' he called,' but I thought since we're on a timescale I could just
use your loo.'

'Oh no, no no no, that's fine,' I called. 'Just, you know, pee away!'

After a couple of seconds, I heard the distinctive sound of pee hitting the
water in the bowl. I put my head in my hands and groaned behind the screeny
bit of the shower, where he couldn't see me. This was torture! And I
deserved it for my naughty dreams!

I couldn't take it anymore. I slowly slid my head out from behind the
screen, hoping to get maybe the teeniest glimpse - but as I popped my head
out, he turned round, in the act of zipping up his jeans, and looked
straight at me.

I froze, like a naked deer caught in sexy headlights, and then carried on
moving and grabbed the comb next to the shower. 'Comb,' I said, like that
explained everything, then hurled myself back into the shower and shut the
door.

I thought I heard Orlando chuckle, then the bathroom door shut and he was
gone.

The rest of my shower was the quickest shower in history. When I came out
into the main room, fully clothed (dressed all in white - a tight white tee,
some white combat-type trousers and a long white jacket ready for going out
in) I found him watching TV, one leg resting on the arm of the chair.

'Come and watch the news for a minute,' he said, extending himself all along
the couch.

'Uh, I don't really watch TV in the mornings,' I said lamely.

'Come on, it's the news! Topical!' he said. 'Come on.'

I sighed. 'OK, I'll watch the news with you. But where will I sit?'

Grinning, he patted the couch next to where his legs were. 'Plenty of room,'
he smiled. Was I imagining it or was he actually flirting?

Reluctant as I was to get too close to him, I couldn't just scream 'DON'T
TOUCH ME' and run from the room, so I walked towards him. My stupid feet
once again hijacked the occasion, this time deciding they couldn't bear to
leave the carpet and getting themselves all tangled, leaving me to
resignedly drop forwards towards Orlando.

He caught me in both arms (well, he'd had enough practice) and managed to
swing me round, turning the fall into a hop that ended with me lying on the
couch next to him, his arm over my stomach. I started to move upwards, to
sit up straight, but his arm tightened against my stomach, holding me in
place.

I looked at him uncertainly - this had surpassed my daily level of weirdness
and I had no clue what was happening. But Orlando didn't say anything. Just
kept his arm wrapped round my stomach and leant on his other hand, watching
TV.

Fine. If he was going to be all huggy and casual, I would too. Damn the
consequences. He started it. I leaned back until I was touching him, then
let myself go slack so that my whole body was leaning against him.

His arm lifted a fraction off my stomach - I was about to get up, sure I'd
made him feel weird - then his arm lifted up a little so that it fit better
round my waist, and pulled me closer in. His head was resting on my shoulder
now, and I heard him take a deep breath next to my ear.

This was too weird. Part of me was loving every second of it, part of me
wanted to turn round and shove myself so close to him that I could feel his
heart beat, wanted to grab his head and kiss him so hard and for so long
that I couldn't feel anything else but him . . . but I knew he was straight,
I knew he was, and he was a celebrity and I was just a struggling actor, and
he was just being friendly and I didn't know him nearly well enough to make
snap judgements about his character based on semi-hugs he was giving me . .
.

Enough was enough. I'd have to talk to him, and soon. But not in the
morning. My brain was smulched enough in the mornings.

I jumped up, smoothing down my rumpled T-Shirt. I caught a brief flash of
surprise and annoyance in Orlando's eyes as I turned to face him, covered up
with his usual amiable grin.

'We should get going,' I said. 'We don't want to be late to meet Clea and
the others.'

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

We chatted away as normal in the car on the way to the theatre, Joe as usual
providing the vehicular transport. While all this was going out in the real
world, my brain was going mental.

*OK. Orlando is behaving very oddly. First he kisses me goodnight. On the
cheek, granted, but hello, lippage. Then he is apparently watching me sleep
at ridiculous times of the morning. Then he's straddling me. Then he's just
strolling into the bathroom while I shower and peeing. Then he's making with
the cuddling. What the fuck is going on?

Clearly, he's just a very touchy-feely man who wants to be nothing more than
friends.

Why is that clearly?

Because he was in heat the other week hugging his girlfriend! Remember? You
gave her that moustache and then stabbed the picture repeatedly with the
drawing pin?

Oh yeah. But he keeps touching me!

Look, we've had this before. Straight boys think gay guys are all cuddly and
huggable, and hug and touch because they think it's what we expect, and then
you think they're gay and then chaos reigns when they're actually not! Stop
obsessing, this man does not like you! Now would you listen to what he's
saying? You might miss something important.

Well, I would, if you'd stop bibbling in my ear.

I'm you, you twat.

Oh, shut up.*

I snapped out of my irritating little tete-a-tete with myself to find
Orlando looking at me expectantly. Oh crap, I was right. I should have been
listening.

'Uh . . . yes?' I offered. Mission: Confuse Orlando so that he doesn't
realise I've been inner-mologueing about him.

'Yes?'

'Yes.'

'Your favourite time of year is "yes".'

'Yes.'

'What?'

'What?'

Orlando blinked and shook his head. Mission accomplished.

'So what made you accept this job?' I asked. 'I mean, surely you get offered
loads of stuff. Why did you take this one?'

'Well, I wanted a break from all the high-maintenance movie stuff,' Orlando
said, running his hands through his hair. 'what with all the Lord of the
Rings stuff, then Ned Kelly and Pirates of the Caribbean, not to mention
Troy, I haven't had any time to myself for years. I thought this'd be a nice
break.'

'Oh, so, what, we're, like, your community project?'

'No, not at all! I mean, I've committed myself. You know, if you -' He
stopped suddenly, putting a hand to his mouth like he'd said too much.

'If we what?'

'Yes?' he said, looking innocent.

'Yes?'

'Yes.'

'If we yes.'

'Yes.'

'What?'

'What?' Orlando grinned at me, clearly happy at having turned my own little
distraction tactic around on me.

'Oh, that's so not funny,' I growled, smacking his arm.

I honestly have no clue what happened next. You know on TV, how sometimes
you get those little timeshifts where you see two people one minute, then
the next they're falling off a building or in bed or something? Well, it was
like that. I smacked his arm, and the next thing I knew I was on my back
with my legs in the air, his hand gripping both arms while he mercilessly
tickled my stomach.

Now, I don't tickle well. I'm not one of those demure people who does the
whole 'oh, teehee, that tickles.' I'm more of an 'OINK OINK MAHAHAHAHA SNORT
SNORT' type of person. So that's exactly what I did. I was so mortified. I
was rolling around and snorting while Orlando Bloom tickled me.

Sometimes I hate me.

We were saved by Joe choosing that specific moment to brake really suddenly
outside the theatre. I squeaked as my ass slipped off the seat and I found
myself lying on the floor, pretty much entirely squished by Orlando. He
rolled his eyes at me and tapped on the parting screen between us and Joe.

'Thanks, Joe! Really smooth!'

'Clunk-click,' called back Joe. 'You should be wearing a seatbelt, Mr Bloom.
And your boyfriend, too.'

'WHAT?' I yelped, swinging myself upwards at exactly the same time that
Orlando's head whipped back round to face me.

BONK.

'Ow!'

'Oh! Oh, dat boz by dose. Oh, by dose.'

'Oh my God!' Oh no, I'd broken Orlando Bloom's nose. I'd broken his nose!
His nose! his beautiful nose! 'Are you all nose?' What? Mouth! Work! 'All
right? Are you all right?'

'Oh, by poor dose.'

'Oh! I'm sorry! Let me see!' Orlando gingerly took his hand away from his
'dose' and let me look, flinching as I got up close. 'OK, there's no blood.
I think . . . you . . . should . . . be . . . fine . . .' You know, it's
weird how nice his eyes are . . .

'Oi! Bloomhead, are you getting out of my car or do I have to install a love
seat?' Considering what had happened last time Joe made a statement like
that, I half-expected Orlando to hurl himself under the seat and cower there
till I was finished spazzing out, but he just grinned.

'Yeah, we're done, Joe,' he said, rubbing his nose but thankfully no longer
talking like a throaty penguin. 'I'll see you here at six.'

'We waved Joe goodbye and got out of the car, while my brain busily worked
over what it had just heard. Joe called me Orlando's boyfriend. Plus with
the love seat. But that didn't necessarily mean - Joe was a funny guy - but
with the - and then the -

I turned to Orlando. 'We don't finish till six?'

'No.'

'Oh, crap.'

'what?'

'And the vodka's in the hotel.'

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

'Matty! Darling! You're here! With Orlando! And only ten minutes late!
Ahahahaha!' Translation: I fucking hate you. You fuck.

'Sorry, Clea,' Orlando said sheepishly. 'I kept us. You know, I wanted to
look my best for the rehearsal.' He offered her a dazzling smile that,
seriously, I had to, like, guide myself with my hands due to the blinding
gorgeousness of.

'Oh!' Translation: What the fuck? The fuck isn't fucking up? Fuck!

'MATTY!' What appeared to be a human-shaped cannonball smacked into me,
squishing me against the wall and making me feel not unlike a pancake with
some kind of berry mixed in, and a little bit of syrup on top with just the
faintest hint of lemon . . . mm-mm good. Oh, where was I? Oh! Squishing,
cannonball, gotcha.

When I managed to peel whatever it was off me, I found myself face to face
with a flustered Nina. 'You said you'd call when you got to the hotel and
give me your new number and I never got the call and I thought the Mafia had
kidnapped you or something and I was going to find your toe in my Honey
Loops!'

'Honey, I was moving in with Orlando Bloom, not the Sopranos.'

'But still!'

'It's OK,' Orlando grinned, offering his hand. 'I like Matty's toes just the
way they are.' Nina gave me a look that said something along the lines of:
Is he flirting?

I sent her a look that said: Well, this is what I've had all weekend.

She sent me a look that said: Really? But I thought he was straight?

I sent her a look that said: Me too, but this morning he hugged me and also
saw me naked and with the grinding.

She sent me a look that said: Oh, with the grinding? My, that sounds erotic.
I think you should shag him.

I sent her a look that said: Dirty!

Seriously, we're almost telepathic.

Our looks were interrupted by Natasha's arrival. 'Why, hellooooo
Orlandoooooo,' she practically drooled down his pants. 'Sooooo glad to see
you agaaaaaaain,' while wiggling her tits up and down his upper torso in the
manner of a pole dancing prostitute nympho demon bitch from hell.

'Oh, hi,' said a slightly-bemused looking Orlando. 'Charlotte, isn't it?'

Natasha actually looked shocked. 'Er . . . no. Natasha.' I swear, I saw her
boobs droop. 'My name is Natasha.'

'Oh! Yeah, that's it, sorry, I'm terrible with names. I never remember a
face.'

'Well, that's understandable!' trilled Natasha and went off, no doubt to
make her boobs even bigger in some Satanic ritual before we started.

Katie floated past, mouthed 'It's nice to see you again Mr Bloom' (either
that or 'It's lice who eat your hair in the gloom', she's always a bit vague
with her mouthing) and ran away. Almost literally.

Clea, who was just on the edge of attaching a rope to the ceiling and
swinging through our midst to attract our attention, screeched, 'REHEARSAL
STARTS IN TEN - NINE - EIGHT - SEVEN -'

While Natasha sliced past me, the wind in her hair and her boobs bouncing
dramatically - I hate that woman - I grabbed the bemused Orlando and dragged
him towards the centre of the stage.

'What's going on?' he asked.

'- SIX - FIVE -'b

'It's Clea's thing,' I replied. 'She thinks if we're all totally relaxed at
the beginning of the rehearsal then we can build up from there into
something, as she puts it, "magical".'

'- FOUR - THREE -'

'Magical?'

'It's best not to argue, she has friends in the Underworld.'

'- TWO -'

'But what do I -'

'Just get down!'

As Clea shrieked 'ONE!' I grabbed Orlando and yanked him to the floor with
me. In the ensuing kerfuffle, his leg somehow became splayed over mine,
meaning that I was way, way close to his crotch. I closed my eyes, bit my
lip, and hoped that I wasn't going to pop a hard-on in the middle of
rehearsal, lying next to Orlando Bloom.

Clea spent the next ten minutes flapping around us like an epileptic
sparrow, occasionally yelping 'Breathe IN and OUT and IN and OUT' at the
kind of speeds that would have had us all going into some kind of asthmatic
shock if we paid any attention, then leaving huge gaps that would have had
us all asphyxiated, before the actual rehearsal began.

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Now, an actor never reveals the secrets of rehearsal. And I'm not about to
break that tradition. Rehearsal's actually really boring, to be honest. All
we do is repeat the same lines and actions over and over and over again
without actually ever getting anywhere. Admittedly, the fact that Clea is in
control means that there's a little bit more chaos to the proceedings, but
other than that it's probably more intensive than any other workplace.

Of course, with intensity comes my clumsiness, so by the end of the day I'd
fallen over approximately five hundred and seventy two objects, and been
rescued by Orlando approximately five hundred and seventy two times.

It was weird - I'd expected our odd intense/looking/touching thing to fade a
little while we were around other people, but if anything it just became
more blatant. Every opportunity he got, Orlando was brushing against my arm
or putting his arm round my shoulders or resting his hand on my leg. I
swear, we were playing the most incestuous brothers this side of . . .
another set of incestuous brothers.

The day - finally - came to an end. I gave Nina my new phone number at the
hotel, and Clea screeched her approval of the new living arrangements.
Natasha shot me a look of death and wiggled her tits around on Orlando's
chest a bit more, but when he didn't rip off her top and instantly ravage
her, stormed off in a huff. And me and Orlando got into the
patiently-waiting car and asked Joe to take us to the hotel.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn't long before we found ourselves in the hotel corridor again.
Despite everything that had happened, I really didn't feel the need to talk
to Orlando about the day. What I really wanted to do was just forget about
it all and carry on like we were, but since that wasn't very likely I opted
to spend the evening alone with my angst.

'Sorry,' I said, 'but I'm really tired. I think I'm just going to have a
bath and head to bed. OK?'

'But it's only seven,' he proclaimed in a plaintive voice.

'A really long bath.'

'OK,' he sighed, 'but I have a really good time with you. I'll be lonely on
my own.'

There was no kiss on the cheek this time. He just went into his room. And I
didn't fall into my room, either. Congratulating myself on the lack of pain,
I sat down on the bed.

'I have a really good time with you. I'll be lonely on my own.'

Ah, who was I kidding?

I jumped up and hurried towards the door. I'd go over into Orlando's room,
and I'd just say to hell with it, I'm spending the evening with you and -

WHAM.

Orlando, clearly having the same idea, charged into my room like some kind
of rampaging elephant, obviously not realising that I was right behind the
door. It smushed my face and knocked me backwards at the same time,
resulting in entirely-unerotic picture of me, sprawled on my back on the
floor, legs akimbo, making this noise:

'Wa-OOH-ow!'

I am a Sex. Kitten.

'Oh my God!' Orlando threw the door shut and ran over to me, positioning his
knees under my head and pushing my long fringe out of my eyes. 'Are you OK?
Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry!'

I managed a weak 'Oh . . . by dose.'

'Oh, your dose!' he cried. 'I mean nose! Your nose!'

'Well, it's OK,' I wheezed. 'I smushed your dose, you smushed my dose. All
good relationships are based on equality and the ability to share, right?'

'Relationship?'

Crap! What did I say? Think, brain, think! The little people working inside
my brain leapt desperately onto the thought and tried to yank it back to
keep it from trickling out like drainwater. Ohh . . . crap, I did say
relationship. Oh no . . .

'Er . . . I said . . . no, I meant fellatioship . . . oh God, no, that's not
what I meant either -'

'Ssh,' he grinned. 'I think I know what you meant.'

His left hand stroked down my left cheek, stopping at my chin. He tilted my
head up, and looked down at me.

'I know exactly what you mean.'

His head moved forwards, and before I had time to figure out whether my
vision was going due to the concussion or reality was actually setting in,
the confusion was over.

Orlando Bloom, his hand resting gently on my cheek with his other hand
against my shoulder, leaned down and pressed his lips against my own, his
tongue darting into my mouth as my entire body melted into his face.

To Be Continued.

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Oh, is that a horrible cliffhanger? Oh . . . oh well. ;) I wonder how this
will end? Don't worry . . . Chapter Six will wing its way towards you soon.

I am an author and live on feedback. It's like Dairylea to me. Tell me what
you think! I'm also not averse to including storylines you might want to
see. Bribes are welcome.

madi_mcfarland@hotmail.com

I have to apologise here for the fact that this chapter took longer than
usual . . . I've been a bit ill this weekend so I've had to work in bits and
pieces. Sorry!

Keep that feedback coming! I think I'm getting addicted! Until I can get
some sort of E-Mail Methodone . . . I'm relying on you people. :) Thank you
for everything I've got so far . . . I love you for it!

And I was serious last time about the pictures. Just saying.

Maddy

x x x