Fic: The Right Fit (2/3)
Apr. 18th, 2005 05:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
salixbabylonTitle: The Right Fit
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
salixbabylon
Email: salixbabylon@yahoo.com
Pairing: OB/VM
Rating: NC-17
Archiving: My site, Aniron, CIB, Mirrormere, and others upon request ONLY.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Complete fiction. I am implying nothing about the real sexual preferences of the actors herein. Absolutely no disrespect is meant to them.
Summary: Orlando feels like his body doesn't belong to him anymore.
Thank yous: Toheartofslash for her brilliant-goddess-betaing, and to willowwing for letting me bounce ideas around one night. And to Cindy Lou, always.
Part 1
The Right Fit
The flight isn't too bad, barely over two hours. Viggo apologizes for being exhausted, saying he's been up the last few nights and days painting something he needed to finish, and then falls asleep. Orlando tries not to think, to clear his mind; to ignore the lustful glances from the flight attendant and the gaze of the woman in the row across from him who probably wants his autograph. Is a little paranoid about being recognized with Viggo, but tries to let that feeling go. Closes his eyes and pretends he's sleeping, too.
When they get to the cabin it's about as rustic as Orlando expected. A real cabin in the woods: two bedrooms, one bath, a kitchen, and a lounge. Outside is a shed Viggo says he's turned into a studio, complete with darkroom, and a barn for the horses, when Viggo is here. Otherwise they stay with his brother Charles, who lives a few hours away. Maybe tomorrow, Viggo says, they'll go get the horses and have lunch with his brother, if Orlando wouldn't mind.
The place is a little dusty but not too stale; Viggo says he was here about a month ago and hadn't expected to come back quite so soon. Says that he certainly doesn't mind at all, though; he's always more than happy to get out of LA. After a moment he adds that it's nice to have Orlando here with him, too.
Orlando isn't looking forward to another long drive; the trip from the airport in Boise had been long enough. But then they could go riding later, which would be nice. He just feels... Well, disconnected, really. He doesn't feel like he fits in his body, still, and he can't blame jet lag or anything else this time. Doesn't feel like he fits here. His body is an object, a made thing, and it belongs in Los Angeles where it can be photographed going in and out of his house and getting in and out of hired cars. It's ridiculous, really, but he almost feels more like that's where he is meant to be, that's what he has become...
He's turned into a movie star; he's not an actor anymore. Wasn't it meant to be about the acting, though? When had that changed? Then again, isn't he acting all the time now, sun-up to sundown, and all through the night as well...
And Viggo, well, he loves being around Viggo of course. But so far it doesn't fit the way he'd hoped, either. It doesn't fit the way they had fit in New Zealand, and Orlando doesn't know if it will ever fit the same again. He doesn't even know if he wants it to fit the same. That had been good, but well, a bit tense, what with the always wanting more and always knowing Viggo thought he was just too young and stupid...
At least they were still friends, though, even if it isn't comfortable, wasn't what Orlando had wanted. It's still good.
They have a quick meal and call it an early evening; Viggo's still dead tired. He promises to wake Orlando up with decent tea and breakfast, and then they will get going early to pick up the horses and maybe do some riding once they get back.
Orlando sleeps fitfully, in the bed that is Henry's most of the time, or a guest's when Henry isn't here with Viggo. It's somebody's bed, though, not an impersonal hotel bed, and it smells like normal detergent, not bleach. It's a good smell, a homey smell, but this isn't his home. He doesn't feel like he has a home, anywhere... Tense and out of place, Orlando still feels like his body doesn't belong to him.
***
As they ride across a meadow dotted with clumps of snow and the first determined wildflowers, Viggo asks if he wants to talk about anything. Orlando says no. He's not lying; there's a lot on his mind but it's all bullshit and he doesn't want to say it out loud, make it real. Bring it here.
He wants to get away from it.
Three more days pass, with horseback riding and hiking, even a brief fishing trip. They don't talk a lot and the silence is almost comfortable. Orlando knows Viggo is giving him space, letting him open up when he wants to. He doesn't feel pressured exactly, but still feels that Viggo is waiting for something. Wonders if Viggo will be disappointed if the two weeks pass and Orlando goes back to filming and never spills his guts.
Doesn't really know what he'd say anyway. That he hates his body? His hair annoys him? That being famous sucks?
Right.
Today was spent mostly in solitude while Viggo worked by himself in the darkroom and Orlando... well, slept, mostly, with a brief hike and a short phone call to his assistant to see how Sidi was doing to break up the monotony. He could have gone out riding or read a book or something, but instead he just did a whole lot of nothing. Because his thoughts are nothing, and he can't fucking stop his brain from thinking.
Tonight though, they've opened a bottle of whiskey that Viggo has provided and are talking about New Zealand. Orlando knows he's drinking more than he should, but hell, he isn't an inexperienced twenty-two year old anymore. Fuck, he even has more muscle mass now, right, so that means he should get pissed more slowly.
But it doesn't work. Even though he knows it's all shit, the words come spilling out his mouth anyway. Viggo just nods and listens, not seeming surprised at all, just a little sad.
Orlando goes off about the fans who won't give him a moment of privacy, the stalkerazzi (and Viggo smiles at his word for them) who would videotape him taking a shit if they could, the constant drain of energy it is to always be avoiding people, always hiding, always trying to be polite and them always fucking wanting *more* of him. He tells Viggo about how he hasn't even been into a market in three years in LA or London because he simply *can't*, unless they close the whole place down so it's just him in the shop. And about how he needed to have his brows waxed for a thing in Toronto and the woman who did it told the press, and now they have someone come to him to do that sort of thing, because he can't go to a fucking salon without it being in the papers later.
After few more shots, which he pours himself with a slightly sloppy hand, but Viggo doesn't stop him or even look at him as if he wants to, and Orlando starts talking about girls. How he liked Kate but they never clicked and he was sick of her wanting him to be more or different, and she was sick of him not being Orlando Fucking Bloom, and they ended things. They still go hiking with the dogs sometimes, though, and that's nice...
Viggo nods and agrees that that is nice, when things are still amiable after a breakup. Chuckles and says it almost sounds like him and Exene, with the dogs standing in for Henry. Orlando joins his mirth, and their laughter trails off into slightly pissed giggles.
Orlando has another drink.
He tells Viggo he hates being himself.
Viggo looks ever so slightly puzzled, so Orlando explains that he hates his body, his muscles, his hair, his clothes, his life, his bloody fucking *name*. That sometimes he can't even bear to think of himself as 'Orlando' anymore, because the name is a thing, a commodity. It isn't him. It's an entity unto itself, and he almost wishes he could go by his middle name or something, find another word for who he really is.
Viggo asks what his middle name is and Orlando answers: Jonathan. Half of him is relieved that Viggo doesn't know these idiotic details about him, unlike some of the stalker-type fans. The other half is disappointed that Viggo doesn't know him that well. He knows Viggo's middle name, after all: Peter.
The room has gone silent and Orlando's sniffle that this thought produces sounds loud and melodramatic and pathetic and stupid and maybe he should be going to bed before he does something dumb or says something even more maudlin.
He can't remember what exactly was the last thing he said out loud... While he's trying to remember, Viggo changes the topic and asks about Orlando's crazy old clothes and whatever happened to them. Orlando says his publicist told him to stop wearing them, bought him new stylish clothes in dark colors and asked him to dress more conservatively if he wanted to be taken seriously. "Do you want to be taken seriously?" Viggo asks, with a raised brow.
Orlando shrugs and says that it doesn't matter what he wants; his old clothes don't fit him now anyway. He's too big for them. Too fucking bulky.
"And I fuckin' hate it," he whispers, downing the last of the whiskey in his glass.
A moment later, embarrassed at what he's said, Orlando staggers to his feet and excuses himself to bed. He collapses on top of the covers and falls asleep, mind blissfully blank for the first time in what feels like years.
***Part 3***
Author:
salixbabylonEmail: salixbabylon@yahoo.com
Pairing: OB/VM
Rating: NC-17
Archiving: My site, Aniron, CIB, Mirrormere, and others upon request ONLY.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Complete fiction. I am implying nothing about the real sexual preferences of the actors herein. Absolutely no disrespect is meant to them.
Summary: Orlando feels like his body doesn't belong to him anymore.
Thank yous: To
heartofslash for her brilliant-goddess-betaing, and to willowwing for letting me bounce ideas around one night. And to Cindy Lou, always.Part 1
The flight isn't too bad, barely over two hours. Viggo apologizes for being exhausted, saying he's been up the last few nights and days painting something he needed to finish, and then falls asleep. Orlando tries not to think, to clear his mind; to ignore the lustful glances from the flight attendant and the gaze of the woman in the row across from him who probably wants his autograph. Is a little paranoid about being recognized with Viggo, but tries to let that feeling go. Closes his eyes and pretends he's sleeping, too.
When they get to the cabin it's about as rustic as Orlando expected. A real cabin in the woods: two bedrooms, one bath, a kitchen, and a lounge. Outside is a shed Viggo says he's turned into a studio, complete with darkroom, and a barn for the horses, when Viggo is here. Otherwise they stay with his brother Charles, who lives a few hours away. Maybe tomorrow, Viggo says, they'll go get the horses and have lunch with his brother, if Orlando wouldn't mind.
The place is a little dusty but not too stale; Viggo says he was here about a month ago and hadn't expected to come back quite so soon. Says that he certainly doesn't mind at all, though; he's always more than happy to get out of LA. After a moment he adds that it's nice to have Orlando here with him, too.
Orlando isn't looking forward to another long drive; the trip from the airport in Boise had been long enough. But then they could go riding later, which would be nice. He just feels... Well, disconnected, really. He doesn't feel like he fits in his body, still, and he can't blame jet lag or anything else this time. Doesn't feel like he fits here. His body is an object, a made thing, and it belongs in Los Angeles where it can be photographed going in and out of his house and getting in and out of hired cars. It's ridiculous, really, but he almost feels more like that's where he is meant to be, that's what he has become...
He's turned into a movie star; he's not an actor anymore. Wasn't it meant to be about the acting, though? When had that changed? Then again, isn't he acting all the time now, sun-up to sundown, and all through the night as well...
And Viggo, well, he loves being around Viggo of course. But so far it doesn't fit the way he'd hoped, either. It doesn't fit the way they had fit in New Zealand, and Orlando doesn't know if it will ever fit the same again. He doesn't even know if he wants it to fit the same. That had been good, but well, a bit tense, what with the always wanting more and always knowing Viggo thought he was just too young and stupid...
At least they were still friends, though, even if it isn't comfortable, wasn't what Orlando had wanted. It's still good.
They have a quick meal and call it an early evening; Viggo's still dead tired. He promises to wake Orlando up with decent tea and breakfast, and then they will get going early to pick up the horses and maybe do some riding once they get back.
Orlando sleeps fitfully, in the bed that is Henry's most of the time, or a guest's when Henry isn't here with Viggo. It's somebody's bed, though, not an impersonal hotel bed, and it smells like normal detergent, not bleach. It's a good smell, a homey smell, but this isn't his home. He doesn't feel like he has a home, anywhere... Tense and out of place, Orlando still feels like his body doesn't belong to him.
As they ride across a meadow dotted with clumps of snow and the first determined wildflowers, Viggo asks if he wants to talk about anything. Orlando says no. He's not lying; there's a lot on his mind but it's all bullshit and he doesn't want to say it out loud, make it real. Bring it here.
He wants to get away from it.
Three more days pass, with horseback riding and hiking, even a brief fishing trip. They don't talk a lot and the silence is almost comfortable. Orlando knows Viggo is giving him space, letting him open up when he wants to. He doesn't feel pressured exactly, but still feels that Viggo is waiting for something. Wonders if Viggo will be disappointed if the two weeks pass and Orlando goes back to filming and never spills his guts.
Doesn't really know what he'd say anyway. That he hates his body? His hair annoys him? That being famous sucks?
Right.
Today was spent mostly in solitude while Viggo worked by himself in the darkroom and Orlando... well, slept, mostly, with a brief hike and a short phone call to his assistant to see how Sidi was doing to break up the monotony. He could have gone out riding or read a book or something, but instead he just did a whole lot of nothing. Because his thoughts are nothing, and he can't fucking stop his brain from thinking.
Tonight though, they've opened a bottle of whiskey that Viggo has provided and are talking about New Zealand. Orlando knows he's drinking more than he should, but hell, he isn't an inexperienced twenty-two year old anymore. Fuck, he even has more muscle mass now, right, so that means he should get pissed more slowly.
But it doesn't work. Even though he knows it's all shit, the words come spilling out his mouth anyway. Viggo just nods and listens, not seeming surprised at all, just a little sad.
Orlando goes off about the fans who won't give him a moment of privacy, the stalkerazzi (and Viggo smiles at his word for them) who would videotape him taking a shit if they could, the constant drain of energy it is to always be avoiding people, always hiding, always trying to be polite and them always fucking wanting *more* of him. He tells Viggo about how he hasn't even been into a market in three years in LA or London because he simply *can't*, unless they close the whole place down so it's just him in the shop. And about how he needed to have his brows waxed for a thing in Toronto and the woman who did it told the press, and now they have someone come to him to do that sort of thing, because he can't go to a fucking salon without it being in the papers later.
After few more shots, which he pours himself with a slightly sloppy hand, but Viggo doesn't stop him or even look at him as if he wants to, and Orlando starts talking about girls. How he liked Kate but they never clicked and he was sick of her wanting him to be more or different, and she was sick of him not being Orlando Fucking Bloom, and they ended things. They still go hiking with the dogs sometimes, though, and that's nice...
Viggo nods and agrees that that is nice, when things are still amiable after a breakup. Chuckles and says it almost sounds like him and Exene, with the dogs standing in for Henry. Orlando joins his mirth, and their laughter trails off into slightly pissed giggles.
Orlando has another drink.
He tells Viggo he hates being himself.
Viggo looks ever so slightly puzzled, so Orlando explains that he hates his body, his muscles, his hair, his clothes, his life, his bloody fucking *name*. That sometimes he can't even bear to think of himself as 'Orlando' anymore, because the name is a thing, a commodity. It isn't him. It's an entity unto itself, and he almost wishes he could go by his middle name or something, find another word for who he really is.
Viggo asks what his middle name is and Orlando answers: Jonathan. Half of him is relieved that Viggo doesn't know these idiotic details about him, unlike some of the stalker-type fans. The other half is disappointed that Viggo doesn't know him that well. He knows Viggo's middle name, after all: Peter.
The room has gone silent and Orlando's sniffle that this thought produces sounds loud and melodramatic and pathetic and stupid and maybe he should be going to bed before he does something dumb or says something even more maudlin.
He can't remember what exactly was the last thing he said out loud... While he's trying to remember, Viggo changes the topic and asks about Orlando's crazy old clothes and whatever happened to them. Orlando says his publicist told him to stop wearing them, bought him new stylish clothes in dark colors and asked him to dress more conservatively if he wanted to be taken seriously. "Do you want to be taken seriously?" Viggo asks, with a raised brow.
Orlando shrugs and says that it doesn't matter what he wants; his old clothes don't fit him now anyway. He's too big for them. Too fucking bulky.
"And I fuckin' hate it," he whispers, downing the last of the whiskey in his glass.
A moment later, embarrassed at what he's said, Orlando staggers to his feet and excuses himself to bed. He collapses on top of the covers and falls asleep, mind blissfully blank for the first time in what feels like years.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 01:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 01:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 02:37 am (UTC)*shares the brandy, since it's all posted now*
I think Viggo found a way to help... ;)
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 02:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 01:46 am (UTC)*Does second comment dance (which is lame and dorky because I can't dance) and offers two Brandy's and chocolate kisses if you post part 3 sooner than later*
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 02:39 am (UTC)And booze and chocolate - a woman after my own heart! *g* Part 3 is posted - hope that was soon enough.
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 01:53 am (UTC)I don't ever want to be famous.It would seriously suck.
I love the tone you set with these two. So connected and disconnected to each other at the same time. It's lovely.
~Susan
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 02:40 am (UTC)Thank you for the compliment - I'm glad you're enjoying the tone of the story!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 02:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 02:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 02:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 02:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 02:43 am (UTC)I'd be happy to bribe your for Chapter 3...what would you like?
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 02:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 03:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 02:46 am (UTC)so wonderfully written
Date: 2005-04-19 04:20 am (UTC)Re: so wonderfully written
Date: 2005-04-20 02:48 am (UTC)I hope you like the conclusion!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 04:50 am (UTC)Viggo asks what his middle name is and Orlando answers: Jonathan. Half of him is relieved that Viggo doesn't know these idiotic details about him, unlike some of the stalker-type fans. The other half is disappointed that Viggo doesn't know him that well. He knows Viggo's middle name, after all: Peter.
I loved that. Says a lot about Orlando's inner conflict regarding where he belongs and what parts of him still belong to him, as well as a lot about where his and Viggo's relationship is vs. where Orlando wants/needs it to be. Very nice. :)
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 02:50 am (UTC)And yes, Orlando's really quite a mess at this point about where he and Viggo stand, isn't he? ;)
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 06:04 am (UTC)Thanks for writing and sharing.
*hugs*
And I'm looking forward to the next part.
And, to join the chorus: Oh, Orli...
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 02:53 am (UTC)I hope you like the ending! :)
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 06:10 am (UTC)LOL (not being pushy, ma'm, no no... *blinks*)
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 02:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 06:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 02:56 am (UTC)Thanks for commenting!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 07:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 02:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 09:21 am (UTC)his old clothes don't fit him now anyway. He's too big for them. Too fucking bulky.
Did you hear the cry of anguish going through the fandom when this pic from the Caribbean was released, some days ago? Green striped sleeping pants (or so it looks), clashing blue shirt, silly Ali Baba-slippers.... seems that parts of the Orlando-fandom also have grown out the dorky clothes, may they be ready to admit it or not.
I really love your story because it sharpens my perception of Orlando, the media phenomenon. Thanks for that!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 03:18 am (UTC)I don't think I've seen the picture you're referring to - link, please?
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 12:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 03:20 am (UTC)Glad you're enjoying exploring the differences between what he wants and what is. Thank you for reading!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 01:26 pm (UTC)I've never read anything like this story and I like it a lot.
I love your Orlando voice and I really hope viggo will be able to help him!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 02:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 03:24 am (UTC)Hopefully the ending will be worth it. ;)
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Date: 2005-04-19 06:58 pm (UTC)Really enjoying this. :)
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 03:25 am (UTC)Hope you enjoy the conclusion - thank you for reading and commenting!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 07:59 pm (UTC)I just want to hug Orlando because he feels so disconnected. And I also want to hug Viggo for just being there, I guess.
Can't wait for chapter 3.
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 03:26 am (UTC)Part 3 is up - I hope you enjoy it!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 10:23 pm (UTC)Jen ;->
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Date: 2005-04-20 03:28 am (UTC)And if not, that Viggo is helping him out. ;)
*hug*
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 08:08 pm (UTC)Jen ;->