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 . . .

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.

ORLI

Chapter Six

I had never experienced anything like it.

No one, in the entire history of the universe, had ever kissed anybody like that. Ever. I'd be willing to wager body parts.

His lips pressed against mine, forcefully, prising my mouth open. His tongue slid into my mouth, flicking against my own and pulling back, sliding along the insides of my mouth, before wrestling with my tongue for supremacy, his beautiful lips massaging my own in some kind of insane erotic dance.

I literally felt myself melt against him. My arms reached up and my hands slid through his hair as his left hand continued to caress the left side of my face. I could smell him, I could taste him . . . I could feel him getting hard beneath my head . . .

His legs suddenly slid out from beneath me, and his face pulled abruptly away from mine, with predictable results: my head sailed through the air previously taken up by his lip and hit the carpeted-but-still-pretty-bloody-hard floor.

BONK.

'Oh!' I was going to lose brain cells at this rate.

Orlando was, bizarrely, up and running, but either at some point he'd forgotten that he couldn't walk through walls or he'd just gone utterly mental, because he took my (closed) door at a run and collided with it with a WHAM that made my teeth ache, and I wasn't even colliding with anything. He took a couple of staggering steps backwards, then dropped onto his ass next to me.

'Oh. Ow. That's a door. That's a haaard door. Oh, my face.'

'Oh my God!' I cried. 'Are you OK?' I hurried over to him and cupped his face in my hands. 'Let me see! Are you hurt?' I stopped for a second. Hang on. I was obsessing about whether he was hurt, and yet mere seconds before I'd been in the hottest kiss of my life before he'd dropped me onto the floor, literally, and tried to charge my poor innocent door into mulch. 'What the hell is going on?'

'I'm sorry,' he mumbled. 'I've got to go to my room -'

He got to his feet, shook his head to clear it, and opened the door warily before hurrying across the corridor to his room. I followed, but as I got there the door slammed shut and I heard the key turning in the lock.

Now, this is the point where several other people may have burst into tears and run into their rooms, grabbing their diary and writing pages and pages of why-doesn't-he-love-me nonsense. Not me. There was skulduggery of some sort going on here and I was determined to figure out what it was.

I rapped sharply on the door. 'Mr Bloom? I have a package waiting out here from a Mr Way Confused, if you'd like to sign for it?'

'Matty, uh . . . look, I'm sorry but can we just leave it till the morning?'

'No we cannot just leave it till the morning.'

'Well, I'm not coming out.'

'Yes you are.'

'No I'm not.'

'Yes you are.'

'No I'm not.'

'Yes you are.'

'No I'm not.'

'THE HILLS ARE ALIIIIIIVE, WITH THE SOUND OF -'

His door swung open and he stared at me with wide eyes. 'What the hell are you doing?'

'I'm singing raucously in the hope that it'll make you come out of your room to stop me before people come to see what's going on. Hey, it worked!' I barged past him and turned to face him in the centre of the room. 'Now would you kindly tell me what's going on? Because with the kissing and the grinding and the running and the whamming I'm really, really confused right now. I've never had this effect on a man before. Well, except for that one time with Adrian but he really should have been looking where he was going and who knew cattle were so heavy?'

Orlando stared at me for a second, then gave a little smile. 'You are absolutely insane.'

'Says the man who just tried to run through my door.' I sighed, and took a step closer to him. 'Look, if you regret what happened in there, that's fine. I've had my fair share of confused straight guys in the past, so if you want to just forget about it -'

'No, that's not it. At least, I think that's not it. I just - with the - and then the - and you -' He stopped. Oh God, I thought. He's turning into me. It's like in Season One of Angel when Doyle gave Cordelia the visions through the kiss. I've given him my personality!

'I'm so confused,' I said.

'Me too,' Orlando confessed. When he saw my glance, he continued, 'Not about that! That, I mean - I'm sure I . . .' He trailed off.

'So you're telling me you're one hundred percent gay and this wasn't some kind of experimentation?'

'No, I'm not - look - hang on! Let me just get this straight in my head.' Orlando thought for a couple of seconds, his eyes rolling around busily, before he fixed me with his gorgeous stare. 'I have no doubts that I really like you, Matty. But at the same time, I've never done anything like this with a guy before, and yeah, I've had girlfriends. But I've always said that I'm completely open-minded and the only criteria I have for dating someone is to like them. And I like you, I really do, but - the only problem is you make me so damn horny!'

I blushed. I couldn't help it, I felt myself blush. Me! Considering two days ago I'd been shouting at my naked and erect ex-boyfriend while Orlando stood merely a metre away, it seemed pretty prudish. But at the same time, 'Why is that a problem?'

'Because - argh! You're doing it again with that cute little face you pull!'

'What cute little face?' I asked, completely bewildered.

'That face! Your confused face! It's just so damn adorable! And then I just want to take you to bed, and you can figure out the rest, and argh!'

'OK, Orlando, you are going to have to just, you know, stop! Why is it so bad that I make you horny?' I blushed a little bit, but I seemed to be getting it under control. 'I mean, if you, uh . . . like me, then surely it shouldn't be an issue? Unless you're, like, a priest or something . . .' I paused, suddenly worried. 'Are you a priest?'

'No! I'm an actor!'

'Well, then . . . what's the problem?'

'Well, it's just . . .' He sighed. 'You'll think I'm stupid.'

'OK, of all the things I could conceivably think about you? Stupid, not high on the list.' I looked into his eyes, hoping that my eyes were displaying a 'You can tell me anything' sentiment and not a 'What the fuck is going on?' sentiment.

'I was just always raised to think that the best way to go about a relationship was to, you know . . . woo the person first.'

'Woo?'

'Woo.'

'You want to woo me?'

'I want to woo you.'

'Can we stop saying woo?'

'Look, I just . . . I'm not the kind of guy to just, you know, bim-bam someone into bed -'

'Well, good, because bim-bamming? I'm pretty sure it may be illegal.'

'Stop it! I'm trying to be serious!'

'Sorry.'

'I like to take it slow, you know, maybe a couple of dates, then a drink and a meal at my place - or, you know, this hotel room - and then, as it progresses, onto the heavy stuff. But you, you're just so . . . hot . . . it just makes me want you right now.'

'Well, you should have thought about that before you walked in on me in the shower and then peed and then with the hugging and the grinding!'

'Well I couldn't help it! I was trying! You're lucky I didn't just bend you over right there in the shower!'

Oooh . . . image.

We stared at each other for a minute. Clearly one of us was supposed to speak, so I decided it was my turn.

'So . . . what do you want to do?'

'Well . . . I really like you.'

Ah, to hell with it. 'I-I really like you too.'

His eyes lit up. 'Really?'

I smiled shyly. 'Yeah, really.'

'OK,' he said. 'OK. Look, I don't think we should kiss again - at least, not tonight. I-I really want to take my time with you, I want to romance you the way you deserve to be romanced . . . I want this to be fun for you.'

To be honest, fun for me could come just as easily in a naked sweaty Orlando as much as a courtship, but this seemed important to him so I smiled. 'OK. Just - OK, just don't take too long, all right? I really like you.'

Again, neither of us appeared able to move, but if this was that important to Orlando, I decided I was going to help him. 'Well . . . I'll see you tomorrow, then.'

'Yeah,' he smiled. 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

I couldn't resist it. I took a step forward, kissed him squarely on the lips, and left with his smiling expression burned into my memory.

When I got back to my room, I hurled myself at the bed, planning to bury my face in the nice soft pillow.

Predictably, I missed and smacked onto the floor.

I lay there in a dejected heap for a little bit before hauling myself up onto the bed and roaring aggravatedly into my pillow.

It had been one of the sweetest yet frustrating nights of my life. Orlando Bloom liked me! He'd said it, he liked me! But he wanted to take it slow, he wanted to romance me . . . I briefly compared that approach to my own previously-displayed 'bag-em-and-shag-em' routine, then dismissed all thought of it. I already felt like enough of a loser, I didn't want to add 'slapper' to that as well.

Part of me wished he hadn't kissed me . . . he'd awakened feelings inside me I'd forgotten were there. I hadn't really had any deep emotion for anyone since the whole Barry incident over six months ago; everyone since had been a bit of fun, one-night-stands. With Orlando, it was different. I found myself thinking about him all the time . . . every thought I had I wondered what Orlando would think of it . . . every line I'd delivered in rehearsal I'd allowed myself a quick glance over to see what Orlando thought of the way I'd done it.

The feelings were kind of scary. But kind of nice.

And why did he kiss me, if he wanted to take things slow? Was I really that sexy?

And how long would it be before he moved things on? More importantly, how long could I want? I really liked him, sure, but if this was going to be one of those things that lasted for ten years before reaching a conclusion, I wasn't sure that was something I wanted.

But there I was, making snap judgements about the way he was going to treat me before he'd even done it.

Give him time, I told myself. He wants to take it slow, take it slow. You've got a month before the play starts. See what happens.

With these thoughts spinning round my head, I laid my head onto the pillow and, fully clothed but exhausted by the day's events, slipped into a sleep full of visions of Orlando, and memories of kisses.

The next couple of days were a whirl. Orlando's arrival, although lovely, meant that a lot of the work we'd done in previous rehearsals all went to hell.

See, we knew all along that we were going to have some kind of celebrity involved - some kind of deal with the theatre company or something, sponsorships or the rest of that crap that I don't really understand. We all thought that it would be, like, Jim Davidson or someone equally rubbish, but we were fine with that as long as whoever it was didn't interfere with our performances. The only problem was that for a couple of months beforehand, me, Nina, Natasha and Katie had been busily learning our lines while the celebrity finished up filming somewhere exotic. We'd made really good progress during that time, and now that Orlando had arrived a lot of the stuff we'd practised didn't work. It doesn't matter how hard you try, you can never account for someone who's not actually there during rehearsals.

After repeatedly walking into each other several times, the actors as a whole eventually had to ask Clea to change some of the stage directions that didn't work anyway, and while we were at it got her to manoeuvre us round so that we could fit Orlando in more easily (although why she was having such an issue when she'd written the damn thing no one understood).

Orlando and I appeared to slip back into pretty much the same roles we'd developed over the weekend - the friendly banter, the gentle teasing, the almost brotherly affection we were developing for each other. In fact, neither of us mentioned our torrid kiss at all throughout the week, and even on the five thousand occasions I fell over/did something embarrassing and me and Orlando got up close and personal, we managed to resist temptation.

I didn't know about him, though, but it was getting difficult. Every time I saw him, I just wanted to rip his clothes off - and it didn't help that Tuesday and Thursday at the restaurant Alfredo was busily whispering in my ear 'Make with the sex, you have the lust!' while Orlando stood about a centimetre away from me.

I confessed this to Nina at lunch on Friday. Orlando had decided to work through his lunch with Clea to get one of his monologues perfect (he's such a professional . . . swoon), Natasha was off torturing puppies somewhere and Katie was probably trying to flush herself down the toilet. I sat with Nina and ate some delicious sandwiches with some kind of product in and complained.

'I mean with the kissing! And now it's been' - I counted in my head - 'four days and I've had nothing. Not even a kiss on the cheek!' I stomped my foot on the floor. 'Oooh I like him so much Nina!'

'I know you do sweetie. I haven't seen you this excited over a guy since Will Young came out.'

'Well, you know, that was a big moment for him. And I totally knew all along anyway.'

'Of course you did hon.'

'Look that's not the point here! The point is surely there is some law that says when a man has been kissing and grinding another man, at some point they should get kissy and grindy again?'

'I don't think it's in the government's plans for the near future, no.'

'Well, no wonder no one votes anymore.'

'Maybe you should just talk to him about it. Tell him, you know, going slow is one thing but you're not a big fan of getting frozen. Or you could just jump his bones.'

'Nina!'

'What?'

'I will not do that, you big nympho.'

'Ha! I wish! I need someone to nymph out with first.'

As sexually-frustrated as Nina was, she did have a point. I couldn't just keep sitting back and then complaining when Orlando didn't do exactly what I wanted. I decided that I was going to talk to him as soon as I finished my gig at the restaurant that night.

Friday night's our busiest night there - not that means much, we're not exactly the Met Bar, but it does mean that it's got a better atmosphere than usual. Big crowd, happy faces, and the reduced drinks prices don't harm matters either.

Orlando was there, as usual. Tonight he'd actually arrived before me; I saw him chatting to my boss as I went and looked through the night's music with Alfredo. I managed to quell my minor panic attack at seeing him talk to the Demon Boss Charlene, but friendly words from Alfredo -

'Stop yammering, there are more important things to think, no?'

• calmed me right down.

The gig went as well as always - I almost poked my own eye out with the microphone getting there but managed to turn it into some kind of welcoming head movement that I don't think anyone but Orlando noticed - and I finished up, noting as ever that it had seemed to pass really quickly, and kissed Alfredo on the cheek before hurrying down towards Orlando.

WHUMP.

I ran into a solid wall of flesh, felt myself wobble about like a paranoid jelly for a couple of seconds, then regained enough equilibrium to look up and see Charlene simpering down at me.

Charlene is a scary woman. She's very tall, she's very wide, she could probably eat me for breakfast. And I mean this in the most literal sense. Today, however, she appeared to be smiling, which was odd because I thought she'd had all her emotions removed at birth.

'Matty! Just to let you know that it's FINE for you to take tomorrow night off! I don't really have anybody to cover and I'm going to be busting my gut trying to find someone but don't you worry! We'll cope!'

'What?' I asked stupidly.

'Your night off,' she snapped, losing all pretence of happiness. 'It's fine. You don't have to come in tomorrow. You can piss off with your new -' Orlando appeared beside me and her face lit up once again. 'So you just toodle off and enjoy yourselves! Night night!'

'What was that about?' I asked as she disappeared.

'Well, I wanted to take you on a date. What better night for a date than Saturday? But first I had to get rid of the competition. Namely, your paid employment. So I used my greatest charms and convinced Darlene -'

'Charlene.'

'- Charlene - God, I'm really bad with names - to let you have tomorrow night off. It's just going to be me, you and a nice meal.' He grinned at me as we stepped into Joe's waiting car.'

'Thank you,' I smiled. 'That's just what I needed to hear. I can't wait.'

'Me neither,' he grinned.

After a moment's pause, I said, 'I know we agreed to take it slow, but, um, I'm really tired but also really happy. Is there a taking-it-slow rule where you cant just put your arm round me?'

Orlando smiled hugely. 'There certainly isn't.' He held his arms open. 'Come here.'

I shuffled across the seat and moved tentatively into his embrace. His arms locked tightly around me and I slid my arms round him as well, enjoying the feeling of being pressed up against his warm, strong body. I nuzzled my face into his neck gently. 'I really can't wait till tomorrow,' I murmured.

'Me neither,' he replied, kissing me gently on the forehead. 'Me neither.'

I awoke at some point later lying on my bed. Somehow, Orlando had got me out of the car, up the stairs (oh, or perhaps he used the elevator), into my room and into my bed, without waking me up. I must have crashed!

I also noticed with a slight panic that I was in my 'I Heart Love' PJs. Which meant he had to have changed me, which meant . . .

ARGH!

Orlando Bloom saw me naked!!!!

No, wait, wait . . . still wearing the same boxer shorts. Phew. Oh, and also, ew, I hope that's not Orlando's thing because if his boxers smell that'll be it for us.

Thinking about Orlando's boxer shorts, and then moving along to the forthcoming date, I rolled onto my back with a smile, closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep.

To Be Continued.

Oooooh, a date . . . I wonder how it'll go? I wonder what'll happen? Well, no, I don't because I know but YOU will just have to wait and see! I promise it won't be too long!

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

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!

Some people have sent me more pictures. Yay! More! More! I'm greedy.

Maddy

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