Love Lost and Found

“Hhrmpf…” he moaned as the alarm-clock rang and tried to hide his head under the pillow. Unfortunately something, or rather someone was in the way. A firm, solid arm lay around his shoulder and a leg was entangled with his own and prevented him from moving. Not quite awake yet he opened his eyes and found himself staring into two sea-green eyes with a very guarded expression. “Morning, Orlando…” Viggo mumbled. Orlando’s eyes widened in shock as he jerked back and remembered the events of the previous evening.
“Um… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I mean…”
“It’s okay, Orlando.” Viggo smiled “I allowed you to stay, remember?”
“Um… right….” Orlando stammered, still shocked by waking next to Viggo. //A Viggo who does not even seem to mind…// he thought slowly.
“I’ve got to be on set today,” Viggo suddenly said “You would be all alone here… Do you want to come along?” “No…” Orlando said thoughtfully “I’d rather stay here.”
“I could stay too, if it would make you feel better,” Viggo offered “I could tell Peter that I’m sick or something…” “No, he’d know it to be a lie… go on to work Viggo, I’ll be fine.”
“Really?” “Yes.” “Promise?” “I already promised yesterday, Vig.” Orlando said quietly.
“I know.” A brilliant smile suddenly graced Viggo’s features. “How about breakfast?”
“Sounds good to me.” Replied Orlando and climbed out of bed, noticing that he was still fully clothed. “I think I’d better go change…” he chuckled and left the room, Viggo staring right after him. //What the fuck was that?// thought the Dane //He’s never been that… playful before… he tried to kill himself the day before yesterday and now he’s so goddamn cheerful it’s almost unbearable?// Shaking his head he got up and started to dress.

“What’s for breakfast?” Orlando asked and eyed the table curiously as he stepped into the kitchen. “Cornflakes, toast whatever suits you best…” shrugged Viggo.
“I think I’ll take the cornflakes,” Orlando sighed “Do you have milk?” “Fridge.” Viggo said around his toast. “Take whatever you need….” “Thanks, Vig.” Smiling Orlando sat down and filled a bowl with cornflakes. “Sooo….” He said finally “how long will you be on set today?”
“I don’t know,” Viggo grimaced “we’re shooting the scenes without Legolas, so I probably won’t be needed too long.” Orlando nodded and for the rest of the meal they sat in companiable silence.

He stood at the window and watched till Viggo’s car was out of sight. The whole morning and at least part of the afternoon stretched almost endlessly before him and he had not even the slightest idea what to do. //Just like always…// he thought bitterly. It hadn’t even been difficult to convince Viggo that he was content and cheerful and did not mind being left alone. He did not want Viggo to notice and he was an actor after all. And yet somehow he had caught himself hoping that Viggo would notice. Would notice that he didn’t want to be alone and stay. //But he didn’t…// sighing he turned around and explored the house a little. It wasn’t really big but there was a swimming-pool in the garden, he noticed. Most of the rooms were cluttered with personal belongings from Viggo, mainly books and photos of Henry.
The only room that handowndows facing north had been turned into a little atelier and was a chaos of canvases, tubes with acryl-paint and old newspapers. If there was any semblance to order here, it was totally lost on Orlando. Since he didn’t feel comfortable searching Viggo’s personal space his tour of the house was finished too soon. Sighing he decided to settle on the sofa in the living room and have another look at the script. After he would be going back to work. //Hopefully soon,// he thought //otherwise boredom will drive me out of my mind.//

He parked the car and walked the last few metres to the house. Determinedly he walked up to the house, careful not to be seen. A victorious smile crossed his face as he saw the light in the living room. //Good…// he thought //he’s probably reading or something…// He had seen Mortensen leave the house, so his Orlando should be home alone. He just had to find a way in. Scouting around the house, he rubbed his hands gleefully as he noticed that the bathroom window was open. Carefully he looked around before he took a big stone from the ground and smashed it into the window. He hid behind a tree but it seemed that Orlando had not heard the noise. He reached through the broken glass and pushed the window fully open. Grinning from ear to ear he climbed de, de, careful not to cut himself on the broken glass. Slowly he tip-toed to the living room and peered inside. His Orlando had fallen asleep on the sofa, his book had slipped from his hands. He pulled his ski-mask out of his pt ant and slowly approached Orlando. “Argh!” Orlando screamed as he was suddenly grabbed from behind and dragged to his feet. Totally confused Orlando stared at the black ski-mask, which hid most of the attacker’s face. “What… what do you want?” he asked groggily. “You!” the attacker hissed menacingly “Only you, Orlando, you’re mine! And I’m not going to let you forget that!”
Brutally he pushed Orlando back and pinned him onto the floor with his body. “No, please…” Orlando moaned as the man made his intentions clear by brutally grounding his hips into the actor’s. “There’s no need to pretend, my sweet.” The man whispered suddenly. “I know you want this. Are desperate in fact… you want to be taken… you beg to….” “No…” Orlando protested again and tried to escape his captor’s grasp but he was still weakened from blood-loss and the man was much stronger than him. “Please don’t do this to me!!” he begged, tears filling his eyes. “Stop pretending, bitch!” The man hissed and backhanded Orlando across the face. “Your false plies anger me, whore! I know that this is just what you want… just what you deserve… and I’m going to give it to you!”

Orlando ceased his unsuccessful struggling as the man ripped first the shirt and then the boxers he was wearing from his body. Putting up a fight would only make it hurt more. He knew. Experience had taught him that. The attacker pinned his wrist above his head with one hand and roamed the actor’s body with the other. Orlando tried to shut his mind off to the things the man was mumbling but he kept on hearing them all the same. “Beautiful…” the man murmured “truly beautiful… the perfect whore… seems you were destined for the life you choose, bitch!” Orlando couldn’t keep back a pained groan as the man ended his tirade and suddenly pushed his fingers into Orlando. At once the Brit’s muscles clamped down on the unwanted intrusion. “Quite tight, bitch…” the man commented smiling “I will enjoy riding you…” Orlando closed his eyes and tried to prepare himself for the pain but no amount of preparation would have been enough for the soaring pain he felt as the man brutally entered him in one deep stroke. It felt as though he was cleaved into halves. //Think of something else…// he instructed himself //think of something else… just concentrate on something pleasant to lessen the impact of the pain…// He screamed again as the man began to pound into him, a pained sorrowful howl he had not thought himself capable of making. The man just laughed. “That’s it, bitch!” he gurgled with laughter “Come on, scream for me my little whore!” //Think of something pleasant…// Orlando told himself, tryin ign ignore the man’s laboured groans and the pain. //Think of Viggo…. Think of sleeping in Viggo’s arms… you were safe there…// It had been just that morning and still it felt as though years had passed.
Orlando screamed again as the man emptied himself into the actor and gratefully accepted the darkness that engulfed him.
//A pity…// he thought as he looked down at the body of the unconscious actor. //He screamed so prettily… truly a pity that I have to get rid of him now…// He made sure that Orlando would be unconscious for quite a while and then went into the kitchen. Surely Mortensen would have a nice, large kitchen-knife. Preferably one to cut meat.

Tbc…