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.

I'm so sorry to all my loyal readers that this chapter has taken a little longer than the others . . . I've been ill recently and I've had one of those weeks where everything just blows up (not literally, obviously) and I'm very sorry! Hopefully from now on things will get pretty regular again but if it's looking like there'll be a similar delay I'll post an announcement or something.

Anyway, I think you've waited long enough, so here we go!

Previously . . .

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.

ORLI

Chapter Seven

I woke up with a smile on my face.

There was no drool round my mouth - this may have been why I was smiling, in subconscious recognition that maybe - just MAYBE - I wasn't going to start the day like a big spaz. I glanced over at my clock, and smiled even wider when I realised it said 10. Yay! I'd had a lie-in!

There followed a brief moment of panic where I was terrified that I should be at rehearsal before my higher brain kicked in and I remembered it was Saturday. The day after Friday. The day of my date!

The door swung open, and Orlando stood there, smiling. I froze in position like some kind of frightened wild game and bunched the sheets protectively up round myself. 'Whoa!' I cried. 'There could be nakedness in here!'

'No, there couldn't,' he replied smoothly, 'I put you in your PJs last night.'

'Yes, yes you did - thank you, by the way - but that doesn't mean I couldn't have gotten over-excited in the night and taken them off, does it? I could have had a manfriend in here, gettin' all dirty, you know?'

'A manfriend, huh?' Orlando asked, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. 'You had a manfriend?'

'Maybe.'

'I'll give you manfriend.' He took the remainder of the room in two giant leaps and leapt on the bed, his hands wriggling under the covers and gripping hold of my waist, where they tickled. Hard.

I squealed in surprise - yes, I squealed, sounding not unlike a speared pig - and grabbed him instinctively, in an effort to get him off me. At some point, the tickling stopped and the two of us rolled round the room like a pair of mating rhino until Orlando finally managed to pin me down on the floor beside the bed.

'Now who's the manfriend?' he asked with a big grin.

'Well, it's certainly not you,' I told him with mock disgust. 'I have been treated shamefully, and I think you'd better leave now, Mr Bloom. Honestly! You call yourself a gentleman!' I would have said more, but his eyes suddenly connected with mine and before I knew it his lips were pressed against mine again, his tongue pushing into my mouth to meet mine, his fingers running through my hair. I felt his hardness growing against my leg . . .

He pulled away, panting, and ran a hand down the side of my face. 'We're taking it slow, remember?' he asked.

'I know! You're the one who leapt on me like a sexually-starved bunny.'

'Bunny?'

'Yeah, you're a bunny rabbit.'

'I always saw myself as more of a lion.'

'Ha! You're barely a tabbycat!'

Orlando reached up and grabbed the sheets off the bed, pulled them down and draped them over us. 'What are you doing?' I asked. 'We should be getting up and going out and doing dynamic actory type things.'

'Maybe later,' he said softly. 'Right now I just want to hold you.'

'I thought you said -'

'And by hold I mean literally hold, you dirty man. I just . . . I really liked it when you fell asleep in my arms last night. I just want to hold you again before we go anywhere.'

'Well when you put it like that . . .'

He lifted his leg off me and moved into a lying position next to me. I rolled over and laid my head on his chest, laying one arm over his stomach and playing with his hair with the other. Both his arms wrapped round me, one of them cupping the back of my head, and he kissed me on the forehead.

I let myself melt into him, and before I knew it my breathing had steadied, my body had relaxed and I was curled up into him, deeply asleep.

I yawned as I woke up again, and stretched my arm out. Something felt really weird with this particular stretch. The air was really thick, it was like trying to smush my hand against . . . someone's face . . .

I slowly turned my head.

Orlando was looking at me with a slightly irritated expression, while my hand squished his nose against the rest of his face. 'Er . . .' he said nasally. 'Bot are you doing to by dose?'

'Oh! I cried, and leapt up. Unfortunately, that wasn't the best move either as I landed squarely on Orlando's leg. He let out a yelp of pain and threw himself backwards, covering his mouth and grimacing. 'Oh! Oh!' I froze into position, hunched into the air, staring at him with wide eyes. 'Is it all right if I move?'

He managed a weak smile. 'Yeah. Just, you know, carefully.'

I slowly slid down until I was lying with my full length next to him. I raised my head up on my hand, and when I was sure that I wasn't going to squish him again, I said, 'Are you OK?'

He grinned, and knocked my hand away, but before my head had time to hit the floor, he'd manoeuvred himself underneath me and I found myself lying on his chest.

Orlando has a really nice chest to lie on, I should make that clear. He has one of those gorgeous chests that's really hard and muscular but at the same time soft enough to make an excellent pillow. I snuggled in happily and felt his hand gently running through my hair.

'I really like your hair,' he said softly.

'What?'

'Your hair. It's nice.'

'It's hair.'

'It's nice.'

'But it's just my hair.'

'I'm trying to be romantic. That would be ruined if I was forced to smack you.'

'OK! I have nice hair.'

'What time is it?'

'Oh, enjoying yourself THAT much, are we?'

'I'm loving it, actually, but we should probably have some lunch at some point. Remember meals?'

'We're going to starve to death when we have sex.'

'What?'

'Well, look at us. It's' - I checked the clock - 'two in the afternoon and we've barely gotten out of bed, and we're not even sleeping together yet. How are we ever going to do anything when we start?'

'I'm sure we'll manage.' He kissed my forehead. 'Come on, lunch. My treat.'

Lunch was in a surprising location, the local greasy spoon. For any non-Englishese among you, a greasy spoon is basically where you go if you're feeling peckish and you want to eat various foods that have been cooked in the hugest amounts of fat possible. It's a fine line between enjoying the naughty feeling of eating something bad and suffering cardiac arrest.

Orlando didn't mention last night again - not the snuggly sleepiness, or the undressing-and-putting-to-bedness. I followed his lead and didn't say anything either, just tucked into some really unhealthy sausage and bacon and tried not to think about what this was doing to my detox.

Orlando just laughed when I told him this. 'Detox? Like off drugs?'

'No! It's a body detox - I'm eating healthily to flush out my body's toxins and make me more radiant and healthy.'

'Well, you're looking radiant already. Have a sausage.'

'OK.'

So I didn't argue the point. Hello, I was hungry!

While we were waiting for the bill, I looked round nervously while I toyed with the squeezy ketchup bottle. Orlando looked at me oddly and raised his eyebrow. 'Expecting someone?'

'what? Oh! With the looking, and the . . . yeah. I was just, you know, when I read heat there's always pictures of these celebrities in public and I can just see the picture of me and you sitting here eating in next week's edition.'

'So?'

'So, what if someone puts two and two together? You're not' - I lowered my voice to my whisper - 'out yet!'

'Yeah, but that doesn't mean that being seen in public with a man instantly labels a big homo.'

'Well no, but I'm just worried for your reputation.'

'Well, I'm not,' he said firmly. 'I really like you and I'm not going to let anything interfere with that. OK?'

'OK,' I said, because his firm voice was kind of scaring me.

When we left, he draped his arm round my shoulder. I looked round frantically for a second, then relaxed into him and we walked back to the hotel, laughing together.

I looked at myself nervously in the full-length mirror in my room.

It was 7pm. Upon arrival back at the hotel, Orlando had kissed me on the cheek and told me he'd be taking me out at 7, and we'd both gone into our rooms to get ready. I'd showered, shaved, done my hair in three different styles before I remembered him saying that he liked it left down and unstyled, and now I was standing in front of the mirror making sure my outfit looked all right.

He'd said he was taking me to dinner, but I don't really do that formal look. So I was compromising, tight white tee with a black suit-type jacket over it, and some black trousers that looked vaguely formal except for the Chinese pattern that ran down one leg in white, that flared at the bottom around my shoes. I was wearing a black belt with a buckle in the shape of the Chinese symbol for yin-yang. Round my neck was a silver necklace in the shape of a dragon wrapped round a little glass drop. All in all, it set off my deep blue and eyes and black hair quite nicely, I thought.

The picture of serenity that was me in the mirror was ruined when there came a loud knock on the door, making me jump about three feet in the air and actually almost wet myself. I adjusted my necklace so the clasp was out of sight and answered the door.

Orlando was wearing a more conservative outfit than me - what looked like a pretty perfectly-matched suit jacket and trousers - but, like me, he'd adopted for a tee underneath, something dark black with a white stripe running through the middle. He had a silver chain round his neck. He looked stunning.

He looked me up and down, and his mouth opened like it was going to form words. Nothing came out, except, 'I - you - we - that - you're.'

'It's too odd, isn't it?' I said. 'I knew I should have worn something simpler, I'll just go and get changed, I must have a suit round here somewhere -'

'No,' he said firmly, reaching out and gripping my arm. 'You look absolutely gorgeous. You're not changing out of that outfit ever.' He pulled me in for a hug.

I snuggled into his neck. 'Well, I'll have to at some point, or, you know, stinky.'

He chuckled. 'Well, you can change at some point.' He kissed my cheek, then took my hand. 'Come on, the limo's outside.'

I trailed behind as he led the way to the elevator.

'Limo?'

'Limo!' I cried as we got outside. I clapped my hand over my mouth and looked round. A snooty elderly couple were looking at me in a 'Dear Lord have you never seen a limo before?' way that I didn't like very much, and I felt tempted to inform them that my dad was way richer than them, but I didn't on the grounds of that would be rude. And also I had no idea how rich dad was. We'd led pretty separate lives since I'd left uni.

We spent a happy half an hour in the limo, me jumping from seat to seat and marvelling at the space and exploring the minibar, while Orlando laughed at my enthusiasm and watched TV. TV! In a car! Dad may be a millionaire, but he goes more for Bentleys and those other old cars . . . I'd never been in a limo before in my life, and I was loving it.

We arrived at the restaurant - somewhere fancy, I was too busy yammering to Orlando about how cool the limo was to notice - and led to a table by the maitre'd, who then disappeared to deal with the snooty elderly couple, who it appeared were stalking us because they ended up on the table next to us. I gave them a weak smile but when they completely ignored me I satisfied myself with playing with the bread roll that was always in my place.

We were quite for a few minutes while we looked through the menu. I hadn't eaten all afternoon in preparation and I was starving, but there was such a huge choice and it looked so delicious that I was having an issue deciding.

The waiter arrived while I had my nose still buried in the menu. 'Are you read to order? Can I get you anything?' he asked in a broad American accent that I vaguely recognised.

'Uh, can we have a few minutes?' I asked. 'In the meantime, though, I'll have a Diet -' I trailed off as I looked up at the waiter. Tall, blond, with green eyes and what looked like a surfer boy physique.

'Dude!' he cried s our eyes connected. I flinched, my eyes flicking across to Orlando, who was looking at me with a half-amused half-confused expression on his face. 'Oh, dude!' yelled Brad again, making the snooty couple look even more snooty, if it was possible. 'This is totally awesome! I was, like, totally hopin' to run into you in London!' He turned to Orlando. 'Hey, dude. I'm Brad. Me and Matty had totally awesome sex last year.'

If it had been possible, I would have smacked my head repeatedly off the table in an attempt to knock myself unconscious to avoid dealing with this incredibly embarrassing situation. Instead, I said, 'How 'bout that?'

'So this your new bed-buddy, dude?' Brad asked, taking a seat from the next table - much to the snooty couple's disgust - and sitting down with us. How this man ever got a job with a posh restaurant was beyond me.

'Bed-buddy?' asked Orlando with a frown.

'No!' I said, very firmly and precisely. 'No, Brad, he is not a . . . bed-buddy. You were not a bed-buddy. You have got to stop calling sexual partners bed-buddies. Remember what we call a male sexual partner?'

'Uh . . . oh, totally! "Boyfriend", sorry, "boyfriend". So, you Matty's boyfriend, dude?'

'Uh . . . I don't know,' Orlando said. 'Maybe. I really like him.'

'Dude, dude,' said Brad excitedly. 'You have got to hit that!'

While I contemplated drowning myself in my water, Orlando blinked. 'Hit him?'

'Dear God,' I muttered. 'He doesn't mean hit me, he means, you know . . . "hit" me.' Orlando didn't look any less confused, so Brad took it upon himself to explain.

'It's OK, I got this, dude,' he said. 'Oh, what do you call it here . . . oh! You know, you gotta, uh - shag him! That's it! You gotta shag this!'

I wondered briefly if the butter knife would be an effective weapon.

To his credit, Orlando seemed to be dealing with the situation pretty well. 'And why is that?' he asked with a tiny smile.

'Dude, he's a rockin' ride! He did this thing where he, like, clenched -'

'OK OK OK OK OK!' I yelped. 'I think you've mentioned enough, Brad, honey, OK, so, I'll introduce Orlando to it all later and could you get me a Diet Coke? Please?'

'Oh, sure, dude! I'll get you this on the house!'

He left and I let my head thwack onto the table.

'Well, he was a trip,' Orlando said.

'Oh my God, I am so sorry,' I said. 'I had no idea Brad was even in the country! We met when I was taking my year out in uni to go to America, and we were together for like three months or something, and - oh God.'

Orlando leaned across the table and gave me a smile. 'It's OK,' he said sincerely. 'I didn't think there was going to be no baggage at all in this. I just, you know, didn't expect it to come so fast.'

'I know, I'm sorry. Do you want to go somewhere else?'

'No!' he said. 'We'll be OK, I mean, Brad has to have other customers, right? So we'll just fend him off while he's here and enjoy ourselves when he's not, OK?'

'OK,' I said. 'Thank you for being so great.'

'My pleasure.'

'Matty?'

'Oh, thanks, Brad, did you put some lemon -' I looked up. Barry was grinning down at me.

I looked at Orlando, who said, 'You have got to be kidding me.'

'No. That would actually be funny.' I turned back to Barry. 'What are you doing here?'

'I'm here with my sister, she's taking me out for dinner because I just got this new deal for my company.'

'Oh, that's terrific!' I faked. 'Well, have fun!'

'OK, see you later!' Barry walked away. And stopped after about two feet, when he sat down next to the snooty elderly couple, pulling Brad's chair with him. 'Oh, these are my parents,' he smiled. 'Mum, Dad . . . that's Matty. The guy I was telling you about?'

The looks these people gave me, I swear, could have smashed me through the restaurant wall. I put my head in my hands and fought the desire to cry.

There was a small sound in front of me and when I looked up Brad had placed a glass of Diet Coke with ice and lemon in front of me. He was grinning down at me like some kind of American Cheshire surfer cat, all gleamy teeth and blond hair. 'Can I get you guys anything else?'

Orlando opened his mouth, but I just rattled out, 'Just bring us some garlic bread!' Brad hurried off, and Orlando blinked at me.

'I don't like garlic bread.'

'OK, well, I wasn't actually getting it for its nutritional value, I was getting it because that makes Brad go away. Please can we go away?'

'I thought we decided that we were going to stick this out? Ex-boyfriends are not a problem, remember?'

'No, one ex-boyfriend is not a problem. Two most definitely is! I'm sorry, I really wanted tonight to be great, but I, I just can't have dinner with you when I've got Barry over there and Brad serving us, it's just too weird!'

Orlando looked like he was going to say something else, but I surreptitiously reached over the table and touched his hand with mine. 'Please?' I asked. 'I'm not ready for you to meet these people yet. Please can we leave?'

'You're doing those pouty lips again. How can I say no?'

We gathered up our things, and headed towards the door. Barry put an arm out and looked up at me inquisitively. 'Are you leaving?'

'Yes I'm leaving,' I snapped. 'And this is the last time we see each other, OK? Don't come to my house, don't come to my play. I don't want to see you again.'

OK, so that was a bit harsh, but really, I think at this point I'd seen enough of Barry. As had Orlando.

The ride back to the hotel was pretty silent. Nothing like our usual banter-filled conversations. I looked out of the window and tried to figure out how everything had got so screwed, and Orlando watched TV again. I sighed. Great. We'd had one half of a date and already it was like we'd been married for ten years.

I stopped outside my room. 'Um . . . sorry about tonight,' I said.

'It's OK,' Orlando said, but he didn't sound all that sincere. He leant over and gave me a quick peck on the cheek, then disappeared into his room. I sighed, and let myself into my room. I shut the door behind me, and leant against it, my eyes closed, trying not to cry. How could everything go so wrong?

My thoughts were interrupted by the door flying open and smacking into my back. I huffed as the air was knocked out of me, and sailed forwards to land face-first on the (not-too-uncomfy) carpet.

'Oh my God!' Orlando hurried to me and helped me up. 'Are you OK? Oh God, I'm sorry!'

'It's OK,' I said to both of him. They suddenly settled into a single, clear image, and I blinked and shook my head. 'Fi'm ine. I mean, M'i nife. What do I mean?'

'I think you mean you're fine, but you're clearly not, God I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just come barging in like that.'

'Well, no, you probably shouldn't, I mean who knows who's going to be sprawled against the door?'

'Come on, let's get you onto the bed.'

He heaved me up and sat me on the bed, and checked my eyes. 'OK, you don't look like you're concussed.' He sat down next to me and we sat in silence for a moment.

I turned to him. 'OK, you know, you just nearly killed me so I hope there's more to this than just sitting.'

'You're right,' he said. 'There is more. I-I was going to do the whole, I'm cross because of the bad date so I'll let you sleep on it thing, but you didn't look very happy and I don't like that and I just, I just really wanted to hold you again.' He pulled me into a close hug. 'I know we've had a rough start, but I-I just really want to be with you. Like I haven't wanted to be with anyone for a long time.'

I collapsed into his arms. Literally, I started crying. My inner monologue was going, 'Twat! Stop it! That's a really nice top and you're getting it wet!' but I couldn't help it, I just carried on crying.

'Hey! Hey, what's wrong? What's wrong, baby?' Oh God, he called me baby. I shuddered with a new onslaught of tears, and he cupped my face in his hands and tipped me up towards him. 'What's wrong?'

'You don't want to be with me!' I bawled. Oooh, I was lookin' sexy.

'Yes, I do.'

'No you don't!'

'Yes I do.'

'No you don't and if you'd let me finish I'd tell you why!' Orlando was quiet and I stared at him through watery eyes. 'I mean, look at you! you're successful and famous and women are falling over themselves to date you and look at me! I'm clumsy and over-emotional and I don't like art and I have random sexually-overactive boyfriends running around London like escaped zoo animals and I'm a bit weird and just look at me!'

'I am looking at you,' he said firmly. 'And I see someone who is open and genuine, honest and kind, with the warmest heart I've ever seen. You look great in pajamas, and that's not easy, and you're funny, and I've known you a week and you've made me see things no one else could. I haven't been excited by a limo in years and tonight, seeing your face, it was - you're incredible, Matty, and I want to be a part of you.' He pulled me close to him, and pressed his lips against mine. His tongue pushed its way forcefully into my mouth, and I tasted my own tears in his mouth as he laid me down on the bed, and ran his hands through my hair as he kissed me quiet. I wrapped my arms around him, and melted into the kiss.

Orlando lay down next to me and pulled me against him. 'I think I might be falling in love with you, Matty. Now go to sleep.'

Part of me wanted to speak more. Part of me wanted to scream and ask if he meant it and talk for hours. But most of me - the me that was closest to the surface - just wanted to sleep in the arms of the man who loved me.

I snuggled close in, and closed my eyes, and let the sound of his breathing sway me to sleep.

And when I woke up, three hours later, to find Orlando fast asleep, I pulled the sheet over us and wrapped myself around him again. As I drifted off to sleep, I murmured,

'I think I'm falling in love with you too.'

To Be Continued.

So, what do you think? Kudos must go to Dedmun for the idea of the disastrous date - I hope I realised it for you!

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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