Title: Mine
Author: Melanie
Author's Email: Fiestyredms@sbcglobal.net
Pairings: Viggo/Orlando 
Rating: R for language, rape and violence. 
Summary: Orlando is oblivious. Viggo reminds him the hard way just who exactly
he belongs to. 

Orlando grumbled and lifted the paint thinner, ready to splash it across the
painted canvas and erase his previous work. The project was giving him a
splitting headache mainly due to the fact that his brain couldn't agree with his
hands as they brushed across the canvas, creating a totally different work of
art than what he had intended. 

He had spent hours that drifted well off into the middle of the night, working
on his latest creation, hoping to relieve some of the stress that had built upon
his sagging shoulders from all of the public relations bullshit he had been
assigned to do for the release of the last installment for Lord of the Rings.
Sleep was not an option, for the idea had completely vanished when he had drunk
too much coffee in order to stay awake during the schedule of interviews and
press conferences before the London premiere. The preparations for the opening
day were quickly sapping his strength and Orlando was more than ready for it to
come to an end. 

A weary sigh passed his lips before he lit up a cigarette and took a long drag.
He had taken up the bad habit again not too long ago when a time in his life had
become so arduous, he needed some sort of release that was preferable to
drinking himself into a stupor each night. Sex was another option, but he was
growing rather tired of the continuous stream of strangers that he had invited
into his flat or hotel suite just for a good fuck and then kicked them out the
next morning without as so much as a 'thank you.' 

"Dammit," he murmured and shook his head, while the small bucket of paint
thinner was lifted and the clear liquid was allowed to pour down the canvas,
causing the remains of his work to run like a river of blended, distorted
colors. He stared in fascination over the intricate design making its slow trek
out of existence, but felt no regret over his final decision. He knew that spark
of creativity was in there; it just had to be released somehow. He was sure he'd
be up all night long trying to get it right and then have to deal with the rush
of fatigue in the morning when he made his last round of interviews for the
movie in London. 

Abruptly, the obnoxious buzzer that was in dire need of replacement signified
that someone was coming up the freight elevator and sliced through Orlando's
reverie, causing the young actor to instinctively glance at his wrist watch. It
was well past midnight, who could possibly be visiting at such an hour? 

He placed the bucket of paint thinner on the side table and turned away from the
canvas he was slaving over, and entered the large living area of his London flat
just as the elevator arrived at its desired destination. The cigarette
delicately perched between his lips burned down to the filter and he deposited
it in the ashtray on his way to the large service doors that was his main
entrance into the apartment. Much to his surprise Viggo's face was staring back
at him through the steel bars that separated them. 

Orlando exhaled a cloud of smoke as he stepped forward to open the elevator
doors. "Fuck, Vig what the hell are you doing here? I thought you were in
Berlin, still." 

"Nice to see you too, Bloom," hesitantly Viggo paused and took a deep breath,
"Do you mind if I come in?" 

"Sure, sure, mate. No problem. It's not like I'm going to kick you out on the
street," Orlando replied with a warm smile and invited his former co-star into
the apartment. They embraced in a heartfelt hug, and Orlando noticed the slight
tension in his friend's muscles with the proximity but cared not to comment on
it. "Can I get you anything? Beer? Coffee? Tea?" 

"No thanks," Viggo answered nonchalantly as his eyes lingered around the sparse
and widely spaced apartment. 

There were little decorations, and barely enough furniture to entertain the
crowd of people that Orlando normally invited into his home. Viggo had
remembered while filming in New Zealand during the summer that the young actor
had bought the London flat and wanted to take some time off in order to decorate
it. But with the release of the last movie it was a miracle if any of the cast
members found a moment of peace in order to think clearly, let alone take the
time to find decorations for an apartment. 

"Lovely place you have here. It's coming along great!" He flashed a toothy grin
in Orlando's direction, while wiggling his brows. 

Orlando strode over to the kitchen area and snatched up another cigarette from
the pack lying by the ashtray. He leaned against the bar and looked at Viggo
evenly, and a crease formed on his forehead when he noticed the tense, almost
regretful look on his friend's aging face. 

"Is something the matter, Vig?"

"I see you're smoking again. At first I thought it was a rumor." 

The young actor responded with a slight lift of his shoulder and rolled his
eyes. "Everyone has their bad habits. This is just one of many." 

"How's Kate, by the way? I haven't seen her around lately." 

"Gone. We split a few months ago." 

There was a moment of awkward silence before Viggo clasped his hands together
and sat down heavily on the sofa. "Good," he murmured while he relaxed his arms
across the back of the couch. "That's good. I never cared for her anyway." 

Orlando's brow furrowed, as he took a long drag from the cigarette. "Sorry if
this sounds rude, Vig, but why are you here? And so unexpectedly when you should
be in Berlin."

The older man turned his upper body around to face Orlando, and smiled broadly.
"Come sit, Orlando. It's been a while since we've talked like we used to on the
set." 

Bare feet padded across the hardwood flooring toward the sofa, and Orlando sat
down on the other end, facing Viggo's profile with his legs crossed underneath
him. "You're avoiding the subject-" 

"I decided to come early. I wanted to come by and see your new apartment before
I checked into my hotel." 

Orlando flicked his stray ashes into an empty soda can on the coffee table and
then placed the cigarette between his lips again. "You could stay here, you
know. It'd be nice to have the company." 

Viggo frowned. "Do you miss her?" He asked slowly, pointedly turning the
conversation back to Kate. "Because it obviously looked like you were enjoying
yourself more than you would after a breakup during the premiere in LA." 

The young actor blinked hard, as he was not expecting the sudden interrogation
of his past relationship with Kate or what had occurred in LA. In fact, he
wished to avoid it at all costs for it was a subject he wasn't exactly fond of
talking about. It was a part of his past and he intended to keep it that way.
Time to move on and find happiness somewhere else. 

"What's this about, Vig?"
 
Viggo sighed heavily and turned his gaze to Orlando. He appeared exhausted,
possibly from jetlag, but there was something in his eyes that unnerved Orlando
and he was unsure of what to perceive from his friend's demeanor that night. It
wasn't like Viggo to blurt out such unwelcome opinions, even when he was pulling
pranks. He always respected Orlando when it came to his relationships with
women. Of course, he obviously wasn't as secretive with his friends and co-stars
as he was with the general public, but there were just some aspects of Orlando's
life he wished to keep behind closed doors. 

"Why can't you just answer the question," questioned Viggo with persistence. 

Orlando shook his head, exhaling a cloud of smoke through his flared nostrils
and slowly blinked. "That's none of your damn business, and you know that." 

"We've known each other - what? - four years now, and I was beginning to think
that you'd finally opened up to me. I just want to know why you let Dom hang all
over you. The press had a field day with those premiere pictures by the way." 

"I don't give a shit about the press, Vig and Dom has nothing to do with me and
Kate or anything else for that matter," Orlando said angrily as he dropped his
cigarette into the soda can sending the message to Viggo that he wanted to drop
the subject. He gave his friend a long look and rolled his eyes heavenward when
the older man continued to gaze at him expectantly.

"Look, it's late, Vig. You can stay here if you'd like, but I'm going to bed.
G'night." 

He started to rise from the sofa, but was surprised when Viggo leaned across and
grabbed his wrist to keep him from leaving. Orlando narrowed his dark eyes at
Viggo's and one brow shot up at the spark of ire he witnessed in the pools of
blue staring back at him. 

"What's wrong with you?" Orlando demanded, tugging his arm from Viggo's grasp,
but the other man refused to let go. Orlando though was growing rather tired of
this game and he felt the displeasure rising steadily within him. "Let go, Vig." 

Viggo tightened his grip until he received a gasp from Orlando, and rose from
the sofa to stand in front of him. "Do you really want to know what's wrong,
Orlando? I want to tell you but I'm not sure you can handle what I have to say."

"What?" 

A muscle in Viggo's jaw tightened and his eyes darkened. "It's you. You're
what's wrong with me." 

The anger that welled inside of Orlando's chest quickly changed to shock. He was
cautious of the man now standing before him, his normally smiling face now
suddenly twisted in undisguised rage. In a matter of seconds Viggo seemed to
have changed into a completely different person, sending Orlando into a world of
confusion. He wasn't sure how to react to such a frighteningly unexpected
distortion of the man he called his friend.

"You should be called a whore for all the men and women you've allowed to touch
you. There doesn't seem to be even a hint of regret over what you are doing." 

Orlando flinched and tried to pull his hand free from Viggo's grip, only to have
the older man grab his other wrist and draw him closer until their bodies were
touching and Viggo's fevered breath tingled the fine hairs along Orlando's upper
lip. The young actor leaned his head back to put as much distance between them
as was possible, and turned away in revulsion. 

Viggo brought his lips close to Orlando's ear and whispered tenderly, his breath
trembling from the chaotic storm raging within his mind, "It makes me fucking
seethe with envy to know that I'm not the only one allowed to kiss you."

"Vig-" 

"Just shut the fuck up, Orlando!" Viggo shouted and twisted Orlando's wrists in
his hands, until he felt the scrape of bone against bone on the surfaces of his
palms. 

The brash command only fueled Orlando's anger and he writhed in Viggo's grip,
succeeding in freeing one hand. He wasted no time and brought that fist around
and punched the older man square in the jaw. Viggo stumbled back from the force
of the impact, and Orlando kept the balls of his feet balanced on the floor to
stop himself from falling forward along with the other man. His other wrist came
free from Viggo's relentless hold and he backed away, collapsing back against
the cushions in a daze. 

"Get the fuck out of my house!"

Viggo laughed lightly and rubbed his tender jaw, the look on his face
frightening. "That was a mistake." 

Orlando stifled the urge to punch his friend again, and clenched his jaw in
restrained furry as he pointed toward the service elevator for emphasis. "I
don't know what's gotten into you," he said evenly, "but you're not welcome in
my house. Get out or I'll call the police." 

"You would really do that?" 

"Don't give me reason to." 

Viggo slowly moved towards Orlando, as though he was approaching his prey with
only the intent to devour and waste no remains. The young actor cringed at the
malicious glee he saw on Viggo's face.
 
"You're crazy to think that I will give up so easily. I've been waiting for this
moment for a very long time..."

Orlando furrowed his brows as he searched Viggo's eyes for any sign of the man
that he once respected but sadly he could find none. He tried to think of a way
to get through to the older man, but his shock and confusion left him at a loss.
All his mind kept telling him was to get away and defend himself. As much as he
hated to injure Viggo, he was willing to do what was necessary to avoid what he
feared the other man intended.

"You're daft, man." 

"You're right...I am... and you are the source of my unrest. My obsession is
driving me mad."

Orlando backed away, stumbling over a moving box beside the end table, but
righted himself just as Viggo lunged for him. He tried to steer another punch
toward Viggo's face, but the older man was quick to grab the fist in mid-swing.
Viggo used that momentum to propel Orlando around, restraining his arm behind
his back with enough force to break his arm at the elbow if Viggo yanked up on
it any further. The young Brit clenched his teeth against the rush of pain that
coursed through the length of his arm, but refrained from moving in order not to
tempt the crazed man behind him. 

"Viggo, let me go." He flinched when calloused fingers brushed the curls away
from the side of his face, and hot breath tickled his ear. Suddenly, he couldn't
breathe, his lungs constricting painfully in his chest, his breath coming in
short shallow gasps. "Viggo-" 

"Hush, Orlando," Viggo whispered as his fingers trailed down the smooth curve of
Orlando's face and ventured toward the small valley of whiskers on his upper lip
and then to his chin. To his disgust, Orlando felt Viggo's body shudder from
what he could only assume was pleasure. 

"Why are you doing this, Vig?" Orlando asked breathlessly.

"To show you, one way or another that you're mine. No one else is allowed to
touch you. Not anymore." 

"You don't fucking own me, Vig," Orlando ground out, "You - fuck!" His eyes
clenched shut when Viggo pulled up on his restrained arm, and sending a jolt of
pain to his shoulder. "Jesus, just let me go!"

"I can't. I have to do this..." Viggo's free hand lightly wrapped around the
young man's throat, sending a silent threat to Orlando to cooperate. "You are
the only one that can help me, Orlando."

"Fuck you." 

"No, that will be my job... fucking you." 

Orlando instinctively squirmed at that statement and received a tight squeeze
around his throat along with a pull on his arm for his trouble. His teeth
gritted together against the onslaught of pain, and his eyes sealed shut until
he saw white spots dancing on the backdrop of his lids. Viggo's hold around his
neck didn't loosen, and the strain over his windpipe made the task of breathing
more difficult than it already was with the terror that welled up inside of his
heart. 

"You can't do this, Vig. Please," Orlando whispered hoarsely, his strangled
voice trembling with the sheer enormity of his fear. He couldn't understand why
Viggo was acting so viciously demented, with no hint of the compassion Orlando
knew he possessed. Viggo had always been there for him, to guide him, to be his
friend, almost like the father he always wanted. It had never occurred to
Orlando that Viggo was infatuated with him, an infatuation that had obviously
turned into an obsession over the years, yet the older man had carefully kept
his feelings well hidden. This other side of Viggo was terrifying, foreign and
so unexpected, he had no idea how to stop him before the older man did something
Orlando was sure he'd regret.
 
"Vig, please...you're hurting me," Orlando said, hoping to reach his friend.

Viggo tightened his grip and laughed, a short, angry sound that could have
almost been a sob, his lips once again pressed to Orlando's ear. "So now you
know how it feels, Orlando... now you know."

Orlando let out a strangled cry when he didn't expect the sudden jolt of pain
against his groin, as Viggo's hand left his throat came down and grasped his
most private part and began fondling him. The young actor bucked his hips in
protest to the revolting action, but that only caused him to press against the
hard erection behind him and receive a low, guttural moan from Viggo. 

"Viggo, stop-" 

Another cry rose out of his throat while the hand continued to knead him,
without the hint of remorse and tender care that a lover would provide. The
older man's movements were harsh, demanding and very painful. Orlando wanted it
to stop, he was desperate and pleaded with the man he once thought of as a
friend, but his words fell on deaf ears. All he was given was a hard thrust from
behind and Viggo cupped him and stroked him through the fabric of his jeans
again, as though he wanted Orlando aroused by the tortuous treatment. He was
anything but. 

"Viggo, please don't do this! Please!" 

Orlando clenched his eyes shut and he gasped slightly when Viggo abruptly
released him, only to surprise the young Brit and turn him around to force his
back against the thick glass wall that separated the bedroom from the rest of
the flat. Viggo pinned his arms high above his head and pressed his arousal
firmly against Orlando's pelvis. A wave of nausea assaulted him and he tried to
turn his head away to keep from seeing the terrifying hunger that burned in
Viggo's blue gaze but he had little time to move when fevered lips captured his
own in a bruising kiss. 

The kiss itself was brutal and painful as Viggo crushed Orlando's lips with a
force borne out of wild need. Orlando fought against him, tried to push him away
with his lower body and legs, but Viggo revealed more strength than he let on.
The only other way the young actor was able to defend himself was by biting the
older man's tongue before he was able to slip it into Orlando's mouth. Viggo
grunted from the unexpected pain and the metallic tang of blood in his mouth
caused Orlando to gag, but his tormentor refused to let up his assault. Viggo
deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue to explore every contour of Orlando's
mouth, while he spread the younger man's legs apart with a knee and rubbed
briskly against his groin. 

"God, I need you," Viggo's deep voice rumbled out of his chest and vibrated
against Orlando's ear. A wet tongue darted out and slithered across an earlobe
before Viggo sucked on it and lightly nibbled, hoping to get the reaction he
desired to hear from Orlando. No such sound came from the younger man, his head
turned away and his eyes closed tightly against the nightmare that attacked him. 

"I wish you would understand..." 

Orlando jerked his face away when Viggo's lips began a trail down his neck to
the hollow of his throat. The petal soft kisses sent shivers of revulsion up his
spine, and he shuddered. "I can't. You expect me to accept this. I just can't-"
He inhaled sharply and he squeezed his eyes tighter as Viggo bit the skin
stretched over his collarbone, leaving a bloody mark. "It's wrong!" 

Viggo suddenly and unexpectedly stepped away, allowing Orlando's arms to drop to
his side. He remained there, his back pressed to the wall panting and trembling.
His wide eyes, brimming with tears, he watched as Viggo fought his own raging
battle from deep within. The older man's face contorted in a myriad of emotions
from anger to regret to fear and confusion. As much as Orlando wanted to
understand what exactly drove Viggo to such desperation, he was afraid to know.
Afraid to delve that deep into a mind he thought he once knew, but only to find
out that he had been deceived, and for how long? 

Orlando was in shock, but most of all in denial. He didn't want to believe that
he just tasted real betrayal, where trust was most importantly involved. Who was
the man standing before him, now? Was it really Viggo? Or some sick and twisted
figment of Orlando's imagination that only surfaced where too much drink was
involved? It was that unreal to Orlando, he actually felt that he was dreaming,
thrust into an illusion that he desperately wanted to push past the void and
face reality. But reality was facing him, had touched him in places that he had
never dreamed of a man touching before. It was a sickening thought, and Orlando
had to fight back the tears of his astonishment. 

"Viggo, please leave. Leave before you do something you will regret..." 

Viggo deeply frowned and he furrowed his brows in deep reflection. "Regret?" 

Tension constricted Orlando's body like a taut cord and he placed more distance
between him and Viggo by scooting to the right, toward the kitchen. He made his
movements discreet enough in order not to startle Viggo into action. His fists
clenched tightly, he was willing was to defend himself if Viggo decided to lunge
for him again. Though Orlando was afraid, he still refused to give up hope that
Viggo could be reached behind the façade of his obsession. 

"Listen to me, Vig. Remember when Ian told us that story about his former lover?
The one that was raped?" 

Viggo curtly nodded. 

"Remember how much suffering he lived after that?" 

Another nod and light lashes fluttered as Viggo blinked hard. 

Orlando reached the long counter and his hands grasped the small cutting knife
that was left on the granite surface, hiding it behind his back. He hoped Viggo
didn't notice, as he continued to reason with the older man, "I love you, mate.
You know that. But please don't hurt our friendship like this. Think about what
you're doing." 

"I have thought about it, Orlando," Viggo said after a pregnant pause, "but it's
killing me inside. I have to have you. This need inside of me is burning... it
hurts so much." 

Orlando's hand instinctively tightened around the handle of the knife until he
felt the pressure of constriction, he was so afraid of what to expect. "Why? Why
ruin a friendship over your selfish ambitions?" 

Viggo took a threatening step forward and he said in a low, animalistic tone,
"Drop the knife, Orlando." 

The younger man was startled by the brash command and only shook his head as he
moved farther away from Viggo, his movements taking him closer to the service
elevator. He kept the knife in his hand but held it in front of him, pointing it
at his friend. Viggo followed him, but kept his distance and a slow pace. It was
intimidating, revealing that he was in no hurry to lunge for Orlando again. 

"You'll go to jail, Vig. Have you thought about that?" Orlando's voice was
dripping with desperation. He tried everything he could think of to reach Viggo
and prevent from anything happening to himself. 

"I'll get out eventually," answered Viggo simply. 

"You can't do this, Vig. Think about what you're doing!" 

"You keep saying that, Orlando, but you don't realize how much thinking I have
done. I've had four years to think about this moment, the pros and cons. And
guess what, fuck logic. I want you and I will have you one way or the other." 

Orlando was almost at the elevator; he could taste the sweet air of safety just
beyond the service door. But it was the task of lifting the steel door, getting
inside and closing it again in time before Viggo was able to get near and
overpower him. Orlando wasn't confident enough and he realized the only way out
of this predicament was injuring Viggo enough to where it delayed his movements.
He considered every possible route, and although he had agility where Viggo had
strength he wasn't sure of the outcome. He was afraid that he wouldn't be able
to overpower Viggo with a small kitchen knife without himself getting injured in
the process. 

Viggo, however wasn't about to give Orlando the chance to think too much on a
plan to get away from him and he lunged for the young man. He didn't have the
element of surprise he was hoping for, but he was fast enough to dodge a swipe
of Orlando's arm that held the knife. The swing was aimed for Viggo's
midsection, but somehow caught his right forearm instead. He hissed through the
pain from the minor cut, but it wasn't able to deter him from his goal. He
lunged for Orlando again, and this time was able to knock him back against the
steel door of the elevator. 

With both hands Viggo kept the knife from going through his left shoulder, while
Orlando held out his own battle against the older man's strength to drive it
home. A cry of desperation passed Orlando's lips as Viggo was able to steer the
blade away from his body, and banged the young man's clenched hand against the
wall in order to relieve the knife from his grip. It clattered to the floor, and
Viggo kicked it clear across the room out of reach. 

A low guttural growl emanated from deep within Orlando as he pushed hard against
Viggo with all of his strength, which caused the older man and himself to
stumble away from the wall and toward the sofa. Viggo instinctively grabbed
Orlando's wrists, and allowed the momentum to topple him over the sidearm of the
couch, bringing Orlando with him. The force of their fall caused the piece of
furniture to move a few inches across the hardwood flooring and the vase on the
other side crashed to the floor, shattering into hundreds of tiny shards. 

The two grown men wrestled, with Viggo keeping his hold on Orlando's wrists and
the younger man desperate to free himself from the trap. He yanked back and
writhed his body in various angles, which only resulted in them falling between
the sofa and coffee table. Orlando landed on the bottom and his head impacted
the floor with a loud and painful thud. He cried out sharply from the pain that
slammed against his skull, causing his vision to dance. Orlando was still aware
of his surroundings and the situation he was unwillingly thrust in, but with the
agony that spread like wildfire throughout his brain he only groaned when
calloused hands touched the side of his face. He was forced to look up into the
eyes of his friend, tears brimming the corners of his heavy lids and he slowly
blinked only to make his vision blurry. 

"Viggo-" he hoarsely whispered, still determined to plea with the older man to
let him go. However, there was no recollection in Viggo's eyes, only the
insistent fire that fueled his obsession. He felt Viggo's fingers rake through
his hair only for them to stop at the back of his head where a rather large pump
was beginning to form. "Viggo, listen to me-" 

Suddenly Orlando's world tumbled and crashed into wave after wave of pain as
Viggo rammed his head against the floor repeatedly in order to subdue him. He
was unable to stop it, as his body grew unresponsive to the demands to fight or
get away that his mind screamed at him, and his eyes rolled back into his head. 

Darkness descended and Orlando welcomed the painless bliss that would accompany
it, but no such ease was given and just before he was able to drift away and
lose all of his senses he felt his arms being lifted from the floor. Agony
erupted inside of his skull at the rough handling, as he was dragged across the
living area and groaned, the low rumble escaping his parted lips. He blinked
lethargically to clear his vision, but all that greeted him was an array of
distorted shapes and colors, much like what his painting looked like when he
poured the thinner down the canvas. 

Orlando was barely aware of much of anything. His senses were falling apart, his
vision blurred and hearing dulled. As much as he wanted to fight the numbness
that steadily crept over his body, it was the one fight he wasn't strong enough
to win. He felt, but couldn't move. The limbs sprawled at his side were
deadweights, causing more grief to terrorize his mind. He wanted to cry out for
help, but he wasn't sure how much good that would've done when there was no one
in the vicinity to hear his distressed pleas. It was one of the disadvantages of
living in an old warehouse, alone. He had cherished the privacy, but now he
regretted his foolish decision. 

There was humming that sounded from all directions, it seemed, and Orlando's
head lolled to the side as a moan passed his lax lips. The sudden noise
penetrated his ears, reverberated inside of his skull and made the pain much
more intense. It was unbearable and he cringed, his entire being desperate to
escape the profuse torture driving him mad. The lilting sound moved closer, and
Orlando flinched when he felt hot breath brush across his skin, over the slope
of his ear. Viggo's hands were on him again, grasping his shoulders all but
gently and he rolled Orlando over onto his stomach. Another anguished moan was
the only response Orlando was able to give, as he was helpless to stop Viggo
from touching him, hurting him all over again. 

With his left cheek pressed firmly against the hardwood floor, Orlando felt the
sticky warmth of something wet on his skin, and he realized it was his own
blood. He blinked again, his long lashes dragging slowly across the surface of
the floor, the thick crimson tainting the dark hairs along the way. It was the
sensation of his own blood touching his cheek that drove Orlando into hysterics,
and he fought against the lethargy keeping him immobile. He tried to pull his
arms up from his side, but he wasn't given the chance when he felt Viggo grab
him by the wrists and wrench them behind his back. Something thick and cold, not
like rope was tightly wound around his wrists until they were secured to the
point of cutting off circulation. 

Orlando groaned from the discomfort, and tried to roll away from the offending
hands but Viggo wasn't deterred by his weak attempts to escape the inevitable.
Once his hands were bound to where he wasn't able to reach the knots even if he
had the strength to do so, Orlando was lifted from the floor and hoisted over
Viggo's shoulder. The motion pitched Orlando's world into a morbid dance of
vertigo that left him breathless, and he closed his eyes against the wave of
nausea that crashed into him. The bile threatened to spill forth from the
disjointed movements and then from the sudden feeling that he was falling, only
to land in a boneless heap on the mattress of his bed. Orlando gagged and rolled
over to empty the contents of his stomach, for he was unable to hold it back any
longer. He painfully wretched until there was nothing left, but the muscles in
his stomach just kept contracting and forced him to dry heave; a cold sweat
broke out on his body and he shivered from the after effects. 

A sob escaped his quivering lips; the pain that coursed throughout his body was
too much for him to bear. He couldn't fight the nausea that continued to wash
over him, and it left him completely helpless along with his hands bound behind
him. Now more than ever he wanted to close his eyes and drift into the blissful
sensation of sleep where no anguish was allowed to follow him into the dark. It
was a comforting thought, but the yearning for such a reprieve was brutally
shattered at the fevered touch of Viggo's hands on his face. His cheek was
turned away from the plush pillow that was beneath him only seconds earlier, and
he blinked his eyes open to find Viggo's leering face above him. 

"Please-" 

"Shhh," Viggo soothed, while he brushed away sweat soaked strands of hair away
from Orlando's brow, "It's all for your own good." 

Orlando couldn't comprehend the meaning behind those words, and his muddled mind
was sent into a whirl of confusion; his brow furrowed. "W-what?" 

"Orlando. Dear sweet Orlando. Don't you get it? I don't like to share. You are
not some whore that everyone is allowed to fuck and admire. I won't allow it,
anymore." 

"Viggo," Orlando paused and swallowed thickly, the taste of bile still fresh at
the back of his throat, "you can't do this. Please let me go." 

"Sorry, but I can't do that," Viggo said mournfully as he released Orlando's
face, and his hands trailed lower to grasp lean hips. He pulled the young man
farther down the bed to where his legs were bent and his feet touched the floor
beneath, and without a moment's hesitation Viggo began to unbuckle Orlando's
belt. 

Orlando struggled anew, the desperation to get away feeding his adrenaline and
he kicked and thrashed about. He moved his body around, as he tried to roll over
and away from Viggo, causing the older man to tangle his hand in Orlando's
curls, and he yanked back harshly in order to stop him. Orlando gasped from the
sudden discomfort, but it barely discouraged his fight to escape. He bucked away
from Viggo, as the older man resumed his task at trying to relieve Orlando of
his jeans and boxers. Orlando kicked again, and was satisfied when he finally
hit a solid target, which sent Viggo reeling from the force of the kick. He
stumbled back only a few steps, but it was enough for Orlando to roll off the
bed and onto his knees. Without the use of his arms, his balance was astray, but
the young actor refused to give up even if he didn't have a firm plan set in his
mind on how he was going to escape bound and disoriented. 

He scrambled to his feet and made another attempt for the service elevator, but
he was surprised when he suddenly found himself falling from the forceful kick
to his legs though he expected Viggo to catch up before hope was allowed to
shine. He came crashing to the hardwood floor and his right side received the
brunt of it, including his cheek, without the use of his arms to break his fall.
He gasped in air, unable to voice his pain with a cry, as his lungs were starved
of precious oxygen. 

For the second time that evening Orlando was rendered senseless and completely
helpless to stop Viggo from tormenting him so viciously. His mind screamed for
his limbs to react, but there was nothing but pitiful moans that escaped his
lips, which bled profusely from a split when he had fallen. Even when he was
forced on his knees and bent over the edge of the mattress, Orlando couldn't
find the strength that coursed throughout his being only moments before. It had
vanished along with his hope that he was in some sick, twisted dream that
continued to play out though he was desperate to escape. He wanted to believe
that he had drunk too much, the whiskey using his mind as a playground for these
horrifying images and feelings. But such a notion was all too easy. 

Nothing was hardly ever that easy for Orlando Bloom. 

Viggo's hot breath prickling the fine hairs along the nape of Orlando's neck
knocked him back into reality, and he struggled vainly under the brutal hold
that the older man had on him. With one hand pinning him down by his neck and
the other fumbling for the button and fly of his jeans, and Viggo's heavy weight
pressed up against his backside from behind. It was a position that Orlando
feared and loathed, for it made him realize how much more helpless he was in
this fight for dominance, which Viggo was ultimately winning. 

"You just don't get it do you?" Viggo demanded breathlessly, and his hand around
Orlando's neck tightened as he pushed the younger man's head and upper body
further down against the mattress. 

Orlando closed his eyes, as his body trembled uncontrollably from the combined
terror and rage coursing throughout him. He still couldn't fathom that it was
Viggo, his best friend, the man he respected and admired for all those years
while filming was the same man that was about to rape him. He wanted to
understand what drove the older man to commit such malevolence without a hint of
remorse for those he was abusing. It hurt to have a man that he had once trusted
violating him in such a way. 

"You always have to fight back. Always." 

"You sick fuck! Get off me!" 

Viggo leaned forward and took Orlando's upturned earlobe into his mouth, sucking
on it while he pulled the young actor's jeans and boxers down to his knees.
Orlando cried out his fury and bucked away with strength he was surprised he
possessed after all of the abuse inflicted to his head. It barely hindered
Viggo's determination to control Orlando, however and he placed much of his
weight against the younger man's bare backside. Orlando gasped as he realized
that Viggo, in the midst of his struggles, was able to strip off his own jeans
and underwear and had his hard arousal pressed up to the cleft of Orlando's
cheeks. 

"No! NO!!" Orlando screamed repeatedly, the loud cries coming out strangled and
hoarse from the tears that suddenly spilled forth. 

As much as he was given a warning of what was to come, he was not prepared for
the onslaught of pain that seemed to cleave its way through the very core of his
being, tearing him apart. The scorching fire ignited at penetration, but
continued its course and spread through his body and reverberated off the barren
walls of his apartment, drowning out Viggo's whimpers and moans as he sought his
pleasure deep inside of Orlando. Vainly, Orlando pushed forward to escape the
torture, but he was only met with the edge of his bed, which trapped him
inevitably and he was forced to ride the waves of agony. 

Fortunately, Viggo's climax had come quickly, for the wait and need for his
release was trapped within him for so long. His back arched and his mouth opened
in a silent scream, as he spilled his seed inside of Orlando. With a shudder of
content, Viggo pulled out of him leaving him panting and trembling in his
kneeled position by the bed. Tears continued their trek down his face, and he
turned his face into the comforter to hide his misery and to escape the horrors
of his ever-darkening world. Luckily, the pain in his backside had turned into a
dull ache, but it was still an agonizing reminder of the violation Viggo had
brought upon him. It was something Orlando knew he would never forget, nor would
he ever forgive Viggo for the brutal betrayal. 

"Bastard," he choked out between the sobs that attacked his body, "Fucking
bastard." 

He was startled when Viggo tangled his hand in Orlando's hair and pulled back so
that the young man was forced to bend his neck at an uncomfortable angle in
order to look at Viggo and the haunting realization that the older man was
crying. Orlando was surprised, and he gaped. 

Viggo leaned forward to capture Orlando's lips in a kiss, a kiss that was
completely different from those that had preceded the malicious rape. It was a
touch meant for a lover, but Orlando knew it was anything but. Viggo was insane;
he knew no meaning of loyalty. 

The older man licked up the blood that began to dry on the bruised flesh beneath
his lips, and smiled tenderly when he pulled away. Orlando cringed out of
revulsion, not only from the act but also by the way Viggo was behaving. It was
almost as if he imagined Orlando giving in to the abuse willingly. It was an
absurd thought, but Orlando wouldn't have been surprised if it was true. Viggo
had not only violated Orlando in the worst of ways, but stolen his trust. A bond
of friendship was indefinitely broken because of his selfish obsession. 

"I hope one day you'll forgive me," Viggo whispered, his callused fingertips
brushing invisible marks along Orlando's high cheekbone and down the slope of
his nose. He bent down and kissed Orlando again while he untied Orlando's hands,
his salty tears blending in with the younger man's. 

Without another word, Viggo left the flat. Stunned and horrified by what had
just occurred, Orlando buried his face in the comforter and wept. For the first
time in his life he felt dirty, weak and so very alone.