Orli

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.

Previously . . .

We managed to get into my apartment, with only the minor issue of my walking into the elevator door because of staring at the little girl who was watching Orlando pass with an awestruck expression on her face. I realised as I got in that I hadn't peed since the morning, and told Orlando to make himself at home while I took care of business.

While I was peeing, a sudden thought raced through my head: DEAR GOD I'M GOING TO BE LIVING WITH ORLANDO BLOOM! Hotel or not, this was still a huge deal and at some point I was going to have to process everything. But not now. Now I needed to pack. If I was going to be spending time with Orlando Bloom, I was sure as hell gonna do it pretty. I swung the bathroom door open, and saw Orlando staring into my bedroom. The words 'rabbit' and 'headlights' crashed into my head.

'Er . . . Matty?'

'Yes?'

'Why is there a naked man lying on your bed?'

ORLI

Chapter Three

I grabbed hold of the doorframe and used the leverage to haul myself out into the corridor and ran down it, the wind rushing through my hair as I approached Orlando, ready to find out who the hell was in my room and take care of the problem.

I caught a glimpse of naked flesh from my room as my stupid socks continued moving across my stupid laminated floor and swept me past my bedroom like a skier on speed, with the entirely unhealthy finish of my smacking into the wall at the end of the corridor, my feet splaying out like they were trying to decide whether to go left to the kitchen or right to the living room, while my poor nose helpfully suggested the hospital.

Rubbing my nose where I'd squished it, I made my way - slowly and deliberately - back towards my room, where Orlando was still staring, apparently entirely transfixed by whatever nakedness was going on inside my room. I reached the doorframe and, keeping hold in case of some more slip-related disasters, pulled myself through into the room.

'Oh my GOD!'

Entirely naked and looking more than a little confused, one hand running through his hair while the other gripped six and a half inches of hard uncut cock, stood Barry.

'Oh my GOD!'

'Matty? Who's this guy?' asked both Barry and Orlando simultaneously.

'Oh my GOD!' OK, so my voicebox was on a bit of a loop. Get some friends, give them their roles, and act out the situation I'd slid into. You'll have an inkling why the language was evading me. I finally managed to get it together, and took an uncertain step towards Barry.

'Barry?'

'Yes?'

'I . . . you . . . this . . . you know, there are actually so many questions to be asked here that I really don't know where to start, but here's a possibility: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING BEING ALL NAKED IN MY BEDROOM?'

Barry jumped, and opened his mouth to answer, but I held up a hand. 'No, no, wait, stop, wait, stop, no, I don't want to hear a single word out of your mouth until you've put some clothes on, OK? For God's sake!' I gave Orlando a little push out into the corridor and yanked my bedroom door closed, leaning against it with a heavy sigh.

'What . . .' Poor Orlando. I can honestly say I have never seen a man look so confused in my life. Not counting when I told my dad that I didn't like women sexually. 'I . . .'

'OK, uh, that's my ex-boyfriend Barry, I'll introduce you properly when he's . . . fully clothed . . . I can honestly say that I have absolutely no idea what he's doing here. We're not even going out!'

'Does he know that?'

'Well, he should! We broke up months ago! Well, except for that whole thing last night, but that was an entirely separate incident!' Mercifully, my phone rang. 'OK, you, uh, you hang tight and I'll just go get that, 'kay?' I moved back down the corridor and into the living room, silently thanking whoever was calling me, even if it was one of my crazy relatives. Caller ID, however, saved me that little evil, since it was flashing Nina's name.

'Hello!' I said as I picked up. 'You've reached the Waiting List to be Swallowed Up By the Earth. If your problem is boyfriend or co-star related, tough luck lady because I've got you beat!'

Nina, used to my general lack of coherency after years of friendship, rolled with my thought flow. 'What's happening? What did Clea want? Boyfriend? Co-star? Earth-swallowing? Speak!'

'Well, Clea wants me to share my dressing room with Orlando and also move in to the hotel room adjoining his, we came to my place to pick up my stuff and Barry was here naked because he slept here last night except I kicked him out this morning but he came back!'

Nina's a trooper. She's kept up with worse flows of conversation. Unfortunately, she tends to reply at the same speed and intensity as the information was given, so some translation might be needed.

'Oh wow you're going to get to see him naked' (dressing room) 'and maybe you'll become lifelong friends and you can give him to me for my 25th birthday present' (living together) 'oh my God why was Barry naked?' (Naked Barry) 'Did you sleep with him again?' (last night) 'What a stalker!' (Current situation)

'I know! Ooh, speaking of which he's getting dressed and I've left Orlando alone and a little distressed so I'm going to go but I'll phone you from the hotel and give you the number I'll be on, OK?'

'OK! Can I just mention how utterly fabulous it is that we're going to be friends with Orlando Bloom?'

I sighed. 'I wouldn't count on it.'

I put the phone down and went back into the main corridor, where I witnessed to my horror Barry extending a hand to Orlando. 'FREEZE!' I cried and both men stopped and turned to stare at me, their hands still extended like confused giraffe necks. I hurried up the corridor towards them, taking care this time to attempt a stop when I was about five feet away and sliding the remainder. 'OK, Orlando, I don't want you to touch Barry's hand until we've seen him wash it, OK? We know where it's been.' I turned to Barry. 'Just exactly how do you explain yourself?'

'Well, I said I'd call back later and you didn't reply -'

'You said you'd CALL later and I didn't reply because I was envisaging strangling you.'

'- so when I got in I thought I'd give you a nice surprise to get home to.'

'Well done, then, because hey, I haven't had a surprise this good since I was learning to drive and I surprisingly drove into a lamppost!' I said sarcastically.

'Uh . . . if you don't mind my asking, uh - Barry,' said Orlando, making me jump because I'd forgotten he was there (I was too busy being annoyed), 'how exactly did you get into Matty's apartment?'

'Oh my God!' I said, astounded by how right he was. 'Barry, you are such a burglar!'

'No, no, I'm not!' said Barry pleadingly, 'I just took your spare set of keys so I could get back in!'

'How does that make any difference?'

'I did it with love! They're back in the kitchen now, I promise!'

I smiled widely. 'You put them in the kitchen?' Barry nodded, and I continued, 'Oh, Barry, that's so nice of you. Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you aren't a selfish, arrogant twat who thinks that every member of the male species will be waiting, legs wide open, for your next little adventure. Maybe you really do care about me.' I glared at him. 'Or maybe not, either way I don't give a fuck so please just GET THE HELL OUT OF MY FLAT!' For the second time that day, Barry turned and fled.

I turned to Orlando. 'OK. I have a teeny bit of explaining to do.'

Orlando took another sip of the vodka and Diet Coke I'd made for the two of us, set his glass back down on the table, and leant back into the couch. 'So let me get this straight. You used to go out with this guy Barry and he cheated on you, but you slept with him last night because you were drunk and then you kicked him out this morning, but he took your keys and then came back, got naked and waited for you to come home?'

'Yes.'

'And you don't think that's a little odd.'

'Well, give it a couple of weeks. Once you've spent time with me you'll learn, this is, like, a quiet day.'

'Right. Matty?'

'Yes?'

'You went out with him . . . does that mean that you're, you know . . . gay?'

I bit my lip. 'Maybe a little.'

'Oh, hey, don't, I mean . . . I don't care - well, you know, I do, but - it's not, you know, a problem. I mean, I'm an actor, you're not the first gay guy I've ever met.'

'Well, I didn't think you'd have a problem with it. You seem like a really nice guy. I just, I would probably have told you anyway, but I hadn't really envisaged doing it with a naked sexually-aroused ex.'

'Yeah,' Orlando said. 'Uh . . . can I just say something about your ex that's weird?'

'Yes,' I said instantly. 'I say weird things about him all the time.'

'Even with everything going on, he didn't lose his hard-on.'

I sighed. 'Yep. He's a trooper.'

Orlando pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled a number. When my eyes flicked from it to his face, he gave me a reassuring smile. 'Don't worry, I'm not running away. We've been here a while and we've still got to get your stuff together. I'm just telling the driver to go on a break or something, save him waiting outside.'

'Oh my God, he's still outside?' I jumped up and went to the window. Sure enough, the car was still waiting outside, reminding me of a dog that was waiting for its master. I suddenly felt really bad for the poor driver/puppy. 'Well, I'd better hurry up, I mean, he can't be comfortable! Come on, we've got to pack!'

Orlando, suddenly behind me, placed a hand on my arm. 'Calm down there, soldier, I'm calling him.' He put the phone to his ear, leaving his hand on my arm. While I concentrated on not falling on my face, he spoke to the driver. 'Hello? Joe, how you doing down there? . . . Yeah, we've had a little setback up here . . . No, nothing too serious . . . We just need an extra hour or so, you want to take your break? . . . OK, I'll see you back here in about an hour, two hours? . . . Thanks, bud.' He flicked it shut, and his eyes glanced down to where his hand was still resting on my arm. He pulled it away and smiled at me. 'We've got an hour or two, you want to start packing?'

I nodded mutely, and led him through to my bedroom, rubbing my arm where he'd touched it.

Two hours later, we were ready to go. Every item of clothing I'd taken out of my wardrobe had been subject to a critique from Orlando, but on the whole it seemed that he liked my taste in clothes. We had a pretty fun time, actually, and the issue of my sexuality wasn't even raised during the whole time.

When the car arrived back at my flat, we grabbed the suitcases - two for Orlando, one for me - plus the box I was carrying with some extra stuff that I just couldn't leave behind, and loaded them into the boot of the car. I looked back up at the block and waved a small goodbye to my home. 'I'll be back soon!' I called up, and then Orlando started laughing so I smacked him on the head.

That evening, I sat on the bed in my new temporary home. It was actually not a bad room - Orlando's company or whoever paid the bills clearly had some money to spare, and the rooms were more like little mini-apartments in themselves. Big room to relax in, nice-sized bedroom with a soft springy double bed, fabulous ensuite bathroom with a big shower that had like fifty different settings. Once I'd spruced it up and scattered a few personal belongings it looked pretty perfect.

alone for the first time all day, I had time to sit and think about what was happening. This was insane. I'd woken up this morning having just been irritatingly shagged by my ex-boyfriend and now I was sharing a hotel with Orlando Bloom, my co-star and new best friend (albeit a best friend forced upon me by Clea/Satan).

My mind kept drifting back to when his hand had rested on my arm. He'd been distracted by the phone, that was why it had stayed there, just absent-mindedness . . . but I'd really liked it. And Orlando, well, he was a hottie.

I groaned, and put my head in my hands. Stop it, I said to myself. Stop it stop it stop it because you know this is not going to go anywhere good. He's a nice guy, just enjoy the friendship, you have no idea how long this will last. Be professional.

My mind wanted to think about everything some more, but I'd had a really busy day and I just wanted to sleep. I moved under the covers, laid my head on the fluffy pillow, and closed my eyes.

About five seconds later I started to choke as the mint they'd left on my pillow rolled down the mounded pillow and straight into my mouth. I had a brief moment of panic that they'd find me in here the next morning, in my 'I Heart Love' PJs, choked to death on bad hotel confectionery, before I spat it out onto the beside table. Weakly, I chucked it in the bin, smacked my face into the pillow and eventually drifted off to sleep.

To Be Continued.

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.

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