Title: My Only Hope
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando, Orlando/OC
Author: Rutaari (Nalenuur@yahoo.com)
Summary: Orlando's life is terrible, but someone comes
along who could change everything for better or for
worse. Could Viggo be Orli's only hope?
Disclaimer: I own none of them, only wish I did. Not
making any more, but that's too bad, seeing as how I"m
broke.
Warnings: Slash, rape, angst, violence, prostitution
A/N: This is such an AU. I'm not joking. Was posted on
AFF for a long time, and thanks to all of those you
reviewed! PLEASE send me feedback! I'll even repeat my
email for you! Nalenuur@yahoo.com! Now read and
feedback!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My Only Hope
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter One
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fucking Christ.” Orlando muttered to himself as he
wiggled the key to his apartment door, trying to get
it to unlock. He raised his hand and pounded on the
door just above the lock, hearing a satisfying
“chunck” as the bolt popped back and Orli opened the
door. 
“Hey Toby.” Orlando rubbed his great pyrenese on the
head, and bent lower to give the dog a hug. A giant
pink tongue came darting out of the white beast’s
mouth and covered his owner’s face in slime. 
“Well yes, it was a rough night, but thank you for
making it better.” Orli said to the dog, standing up.
He walked over to the refrigerator, which stood next
to the tiny, little six inch television, seeing as how
Orlando’s apartment was hardly fifteen feet across in
all directions. The brown-eyed boy pulled open the
door and stuck his head in, searching for something to
eat. Nothing. There was always nothing. 
“I’m sorry, boy.” Orli said, pulling out his leftover
bag of bread. Two slices left. Orli threw the dog one
slice, and stuffed the other into his mouth. 
	Orli really needed to make some more money. The last
week had been really slow, being nearly Christmas, and
he hadn’t been able to buy food for himself, much less
Toby.  
“Shit its cold in here.” Orli told the dog, pulling
his jacket closer around him. “Come on Toby, come keep
me warm.”
	Orli walked over to the mattress on the floor that he
called a bed, which sunk when he sat down on it, and
sunk even farther when the one- hundred-and-fifty
pound dog climbed on as well. Orli pulled the single
blanket he owned over his body, and snuggled up
against the hairy dog, trying to keep warm. A slight
pain pulsed in his abdomen, as it did every night. Not
to mention that, his throat hurt from singing so
loudly and so often. 
	Orli was a hustler. He preferred that term over
prostitute or whore. Every night- and that was *every*
night- Orli went the two blocks in this god forsaken
neighborhood to “Streak,” the most popular gay bar in
this part of LA. Every night he dressed in the clothes
that Pete, Orli’s manager (and pimp) paid for, got on
stage, and sung. On top of the singing for hours on
end, he was forced to dance- and not just any dance-
it had to be a hip-swinging, shirt-wripping,
button-popping dance that would get every guy in the
joint hard at the thought of doing the famous
“Orlando”. And then he would stop, and any guy who
knew what kind of place Streak was would go to Pete,
and the top ten bidders who bid on Orli would get the
priveledge of banging him. 
	So after eight gruelling hours of singing, dancing,
and mostly being fucked so hard he couldn’t walk in
the morning, Orli would limp back home to his
cockroach-infested apartment that didn’t have heat,
air, or clean water, crawl into bed with his dog, and
cry. It didn’t matter how long he’d been doing this,
how many tricks he’d turned, scales he’d belted, or
hip-thrusts he’d done, Orli always felt like the same
dirty, rotten, prostitute he was, and that thought
alone was enough to make Orlando wish that everything
would just... stop.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Done.” Viggo said to himself, and proudly laid down
his paint brush and stepped back to admire his work.
	Spread across the canvas was a riot of color. Red,
orange, green, yellow, blue, purple, white, gold, you
name it, it was there. But it still wasn’t what Viggo
had been going for. Cocking his head at the image,
Viggo thought he could probably sell the painting
without a problem, for a few hundred at least, but
lately something had been on Viggo’s mind, and it just
wouldn’t transer to canvas. 
“Oh well.” Viggo said, and pulled off his splattered
shirt before stepping out of his studio and heading up
the stairs to bed. Pulling off his pants and crawling
into bed Viggo once again thought about why he had
bought such a big house for just him. Even his bed
seemed to remind the middle-aged man how lonely he
was, and for the millionth night in a row, Viggo fell
asleep with his arm slung across the other side of the
bed, wishing there was really someone there to sling
his arm over.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Orli put on his brave face, the one he always wore
outside his home. He could never show anyone that he
was afraid, because who wanted to do a sniveling
little boy? So when it came to the streets, Orli was
the cocky, arrogant, brave guy everyone knew him as.
That was, except around Pete.
“Orlando! You’re late!” The big man boomed across the
room as Orli tried to sneak into Streak unnoticed. 
“I’m sorry, Pete.” Orli apologized, and he meant it.
Pete was a huge man, with tatoos covering most of his
body, peircings in every place possible, and a glare
that would give a tiger a heart attack. 
“Don’t say sorry to me, Orlando.” Pete growled as he
took Orli by the arm and squeezed, causing Orli to
whimper at the pain. “There are three hundred fags out
there who want to see Orlando sing and thrust his hips
at them tonight, and you’ve just kept them waiting an
extra fifteen minutes.”
“Pete, I’m really sorry.” Orli said, not daring to try
to get out of the man’s grip. “I got caught up with a
trick. I swear it won’t happen again.”
“A trick?” Pete grinned, and held out his hand.
	Orli sighed and reached into his pocket for his
wallet. Inside were ten ten dollar bills: one hundred
dollars. That was the cost to ride Orlando. Orli
reached in and fished out forty dollars, handing it to
Pete. 
“Forty percent.” Orli stated, and Pete grinned.
“That’s right, but I’m thinking of upping it to a
split deal.” Pete said, and smacked Orli on his ass.
“Now go put on some decent clothes and get on that
stage.”
“Yeah, Pete.” Orli said, and took off toward the
dressing rooms.
	Orli entered the dressing rooms and to his relief,
found no one else inside. Locking the door, he picked
up the blacks slacks and white shirt that had been set
out for him. Orli left the shirt unbuttoned at the
top, and rolled up the sleeves to make three-quarter
lengths, and headed out of the dressing rooms.
	Coming out of the room, Orli could hear his name
already being announced, and he ran to the stairs that
led onto the stage. 
“And now, gentlemen, I give you... Orlando.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Come on, Viggo!” Viggo’s friend Dale pleaded. “Come
with me tonight!”
“To Streak?” Viggo asked incredulously.
“Yes! To Streak!” Dale cried. “To see the kid everyone
who’s anyone is talking about!”
“The singer?”
“No! Well, yes, he’s a singer.” Dale admitted. “But
more that that, he’s a singer who dances like a slut,
and fucks ten guys after the show who offer the most
money.”
“And I’m guessing he’s got a face to die for?” Viggo
asked sarcastacly.
“Viggo, he’s got a face to commit suicide for!” Dale
said.
“Have you seen him before?” Viggo asked, picking up
the paperwork he had been working on before Dale
interrupted him.
“Well... no.” Dale admitted. “But everyone I know says
he’s gorgeous! Come on, Vig! You know you’re gay just
like the rest of us!”
“Of course I know that.” Viggo said.
“Then come with me!” Dale begged.
Viggo sighed. “Fine.”

	Two hours later Viggo was pushing his way through a
large crowd of men, trying to get to the table where
Dale was sitting. 
“Hey buddy! Glad you made it!” Dale greeted, slapping
Viggo on the back and gesturing toward his seat.
“Apparently the whore’s late tonight, but he’ll be on
in a jiff.”
“Sure.” Viggo said, not really interested in seeing
the famed... what was his name? Some city.
“Here he is!” Dale cried, pointing to the stage.
“And now, gentlemen, I give you... Orlando.” The
speaker on stage said, and disappeared.
	Viggo gasped when the man came on stage. He was tall,
but not too tall, with brown waves of hair falling
over his face, and big, brown pools in his eyes. The
boy didn’t even introduce himself before starting. The
music started playing, a bouncy tune that Viggo had
heard somewhere before, and Orlando started seawalking
across the stage, ignoring the cat calls and hoots
that came from the audience.
“I waaant you to want me. I neeeeed you to need me.
I’d loooove you to love me.” Orlando sung loudly into
the microphone, and the music swam into Viggo’s ears
and imprinted on his mind.
“I told you he was great.” Viggo was only partially
aware of Dale saying. 
“Uh huh.” Viggo said, his eyes still glued to the boy
on stage. 
	Orlando sang for another two hours, any song anyone
wanted to hear. Most of the songs were provocative,
and at one point he even sang “You and my baby, we
ain’t nothing but mammals, so lets do it like they do
on the discovery channel,”and wripped off his shirt,
which somewhat appauled Viggo, but he remained
entranced the entire night. 
	Viggo also got the idea that Orlando didn’t come up
with his own gigs. Wripping off his shirt and doing so
many pelvic thrusts it had to hurt didn’t seem to Vig
like something anyone wanted to do. Not to mention the
fact that the kid didn’t really look like he was
enjoying himself. But then again, who would when a
hundred overweight, drunk, smelly wankers were trying
to shove money down your pants and slap your ass
whenever you got close enough to the edge of the
stage.
“Hey Dale, you said people bid on him?” Viggo asked,
elbowing his friend.
“Yeah.” Dale said. “The top ten highest bidders get
forty-five minutes a peice with him, but don’t even
dream. He goes for hundreds of dollars. Although the
people I’ve talked to who’ve done him said he’s worth
it.”
“Sure.” Viggo said, not really listening any longer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

	Orlando finished his last song, holding the note as
long as he possibly could, and finally ending with a
big wave of his arms. Before the cheering was even
close to being over Orli dropped the microphone and
ran off stage, hoping to get out of the sight of Pete
and away from the audience before the bidding on his
body began. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” Pete asked,
grabbing Orli’s arm and dragging him back on stage.
“Please, Pete. Do I really have to watch this?” Orli
asked, following his pimp.
“Yes.” Pete said as he came on stage. “Now try to look
like you’d be a good ride.”
	Orli watched as first one bidder, and then the next
bought a peice of Orli’s night. The bids went around
two to three-hundred dollars, but the last bid was
always outrageous.
“Okay boys, we have ONE more spot in bed with this hot
kid.” Pete announced. “Can I hear four hundred
dollars?”
	A sleazy man in the front row raised his hand and
yelled “here!” Orli cringed at the thought of having
that greaseball laying over him. 
“Five hundred!” Another man yelled.
“Five fifty!”
“Six hundred!”
“One thousand dollars.”
	The whole room went silent, and Orli’s head snapped
up to see who had bid such an incredible amount of
money. Someone turned the spotlight into the audience,
to where the voice had come from. The man was middle
aged, and surprisingly hansom. But Orli couldn’t help
but wonder what a guy like that was doing in a joint
like this. He didn’t belong here. Even still,
Orlando’s eyes connected with the man’s, and they
stared at eachother for what seemed like an eternity,
before Pete’s voice pulled him into reality.
“One thousand it is!” Pete yelled. “And just for such
a generous offer I’m going to let you have two hours
with my lovely here.”
	Pete set down the microphone and started to lead Orli
off stage to go meet his first client. 
“Treat this one real nice, Orlando.” Pete growled.
“He’s a keeper in my joint.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER TWO
~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Viggo! That’s my boy! What the hell did you just
do!?” Dale screamed.
“I just bought two hours with Orlando.” Viggo stated
flatly, sitting back down. The bad thing now was that
he would have to wait for nearly eight hours until his
turn with Orlando, and he would sit here shaking with
anxiety the entire time.
“But why the hell did you pay a thousand dollars for
it!?” Dale asked.
“So I could make sure no one outbid me.” Viggo
replied.
“Damn, Mortensen. Why did you never show me this side
of you before?”
Viggo didn’t answer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Orli went right to the number four bedroom in the
basement of the club, his bedroom. He wasn’t allowed
to live there, just use it to turn tricks in. Orlando
didn’t have to wait long for Pete to show the first
trick to his room, and once again he had his brains
banged out, and then again, and again, until the ninth
man left, and Pete stuck his head in the door.
“This is the guy who paid a thou for your stinking
little body, Orlando.” Pete said. “He’s taking two
hours with you.”
“But Pete!” Orlando protested. “Thats after my hours!
I’ll lose an hour of sleep!”
“So what?” Pete sneered. “You treat this one good.
Real good.”
	A few minutes later there was a knock on the door.
That was strange, no one ever knocked on Orli’s door.
“Yeah?” Orli asked, knowing who it was.
	The door creaked open slowly and a dusty-colored head
appeared in the crack, blue orbs staring back at
Orlando.
“Hi.” The man said shyly.
“What’s up, mate?” Orlando greeted, waving the man
inside. “What’s you’re name?”
“Viggo.” The older man replied, sitting hesitantly on
the bed next to Orlando.
“Viggo.” Orlando repeated, trying the name on his
tongue. He liked it. “You don’t do this very often, do
you Viggo?”
“Never.” Viggo answered. 
“That’s surprising.” Orli stated. 
“Why?”
“Because not even my regulars will pay a whole grand 
to romp for an hour with me.” Orli replied, staring at
his feet.
“Two hours.” Viggo corrected.
“That’s right. Two hours.” Orli said. “That’s an hour
over my time, did you know that?”
“I’m sorry.” Viggo apologized. “You don’t have to stay
that long. If you want to leave you can.”
Orli shook his head. “No, you paid for this. Lets just
get on with it.” He started to pull off his shirt, but
stopped when he saw Viggo squirm uncomfortably.
“What?” He asked.
“I just... I didn’t really have that in mind.” Viggo
said.
“What did you have in mind?” Orli asked. “You want me
to blow you?”
“No!” Viggo replied. “I just thought maybe... maybe I
could spend some time with you.”
	Orli took a step back.  No one had ever wanted to
spend time with him, not really anyway. Fucking him
and spending time with him were two totally different
things. 
“Spend time with me?” Orli asked. “Man, you are some
kind of freaky.”
“No, I’m serious.” Viggo said. “Do you want to go
somewhere? We could go eat something, have you eaten
yet?”
“Yet?” Orli asked. “Look mate, its four in the bloody
morning, and I haven’t slept sinse three this
afternoon.” Orli was answered by the loud rumble of
his stomach. “But I also haven’t had a decent meal in
about a week.” Orli added. “Okay, lets go.”
“Great.” Vig said, waiting for Orli to grab his coat.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Doesn’t matter to me,” Orli shrugged, “as long as
you’re paying.” 
	Viggo followed the younger man out the back exit of
the club and into the freezing night air. He noticed
the boy shiver as they stepped out the door, holding
his arms around his sides.
“Is that jacket enough?” Viggo asked, referring to the
light jacket Orlando wore. 
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Orlando replied, following Viggo
toward his car. He let out a whistle when he saw the
man’s suburban. “Shite, you really don’t belong around
here, do you?”
“What do you mean by that?” Viggo asked, letting
Orlando in the car.
“I haven’t seen a car like this that wasn’t in a sales
lot in years.” Orlando reponded. “Except maybe
Pete’s.”
“Who’s Pete?” Viggo asked.
Damnit. Why did Orli have to go and open his big trap?
“He’s my manager.” Orlando responded.
“Oh.” Viggo tried to hide his sigh of relief as he
started the car. He didn’t know why, but a sharp pang
of jeaslously had erupted inside him when he thought
that this beautiful young man could have a boyfriend.
Viggo didn’t say anything, but he figured Pete was
more than just a manager. What kind of manager
auctioned off an hour with his client in bed?
“Where are we going?” Orlando pulled Viggo out of his
thoughts.
“Wherever you point me to.” Viggo replied. “I’m not
from around here, remember?”
	The older man grinned at Orlando, and he couldn’t
help but smile back. This trick was cute, in an
innocent, playful sort of way.  Orli didn’t want to go
somewhere where someone might recognize him. If any of
his regulars saw him out with a trick eating instead
of in bed with the guy they would think he was going
soft, and in his line of work, the soft people were
the ones who got raped, and usually left dead in an
ally somewhere.
“There’s a little diner I’ve always wanted to try.”
Orlando suggested. “Go straight on this road here.”
“Okay.” Viggo said, and put the car in drive.
“So how did you end up in a place like Streak?”
Orlando asked.
The man laughed. “My friend Dale wanted to come see
you sing, so he dragged me along.”
	Orlando laughed. He knew perfectly well no one
actually came to see him sing. The only thing they
wanted was to get in bed with him, but if they
couldn’t afford that, they’d settle for a good
performance where he wripped off his shirt and grinded
his hips a bit. That’s all they wanted. Except this
guy. What was his problem, wanting to spend time with
him? Who wanted to spend time with a whore? The
thought that this guy wanted to rape him and leave him
in an ally had occured to Orli, it occured to him
every time he went to bed with a trick, but something
inside him had told him that Viggo wasn’t like that.
This man was different, and Orlando couldn’t help but
like him.
“Turn right up here.” Orlando told Viggo. “It’s that
little place on the left.”
“Stewie’s?” Viggo asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. I know it doesn’t look very fantastic,” Orli
grinned, “but I hear they’ve got fried peaches.”
“Fried peaches?”
“Yeah, mate. I haven’t had them sinse I was at home in
Canterbury.” Orli replied, getting out of the car.
“They fry the peaches in this really good cinnamon
sauce. It’s fantastic!”
“Alright. I’ll take your word for that.” Viggo said,
following Orlando into the diner.
	The two men took a seat in a booth near the back of
the resteraunt. Orli had chosen the seat back here in
hopes that no one would notice him.
“So you want to be a singer?” Viggo asked.
“Singer? No.” Orlando responded, staring at the menu.
“Ever sinse I was little I wanted to be a performer,
an actor.”
“So how’d you end up here?” Viggo asked.
“I guess I just never made it that far.” Orlando
replied.
“You made it to LA.” Viggo pointed out.
“Yeah.” Orli said. “But I shouldn’t have come. I
thought it would make life better, that I’d actually
get somewhere, but I guess it didn’t work out, did
it?”
	Christ! Why was this guy asking all these questions?
Like he really cared how Orli got to LA.
“Why didn’t it work?”
“I didn’t have that much money.” Orli replied. “But
the little I did have I gave to an agent, so he could
get me a few gigs. He ran off with all of it.”
“All of it? You didn’t keep any of it?” Viggo asked. 
“I didn’t have any to keep! It was either pay him or
live for one month in an apartment.” Orlando admitted.
“After that I spent almost a month on the streets,
trying to scrape change of the roads to get something
to eat. Then  one day I saw an add in the window at
Streak wanting a performer. I tried out, and Pete
liked me, so I got the job. But it didn’t exactly turn
out to be what I thought...”
	Orli didn’t like saying all this. Why was he telling
this guy so much? He started glancing around, looking
for a way out. Where was the waitress? He really
needed some water.
“You mean the end of the gig?” Viggo asked.
“Yeah, uhm, look mate, I really gotta go.” Orli said,
starting to stand up. 
“No!” Viggo said, putting his hand on Orlando’s arm.
“I’m sorry. I’ll stop asking you questions. Please,
just stay?”
Orli sighed. “Okay.”
“Can I get you guys something to drink?” The waitress
finally came over and asked.
“Yeah, I’ll just have a glass of water.” Orli said.
“Same for me.” Viggo told her.
“Something to eat?” The waitress asked.
“A whole order of fried peaches.” Orli replied. “He’ll
have the same.”
	The waitress, nodded and walked off, and Orli laughed
at Viggo’s raised eyebrow.
“Hey, you want to take me out to eat you’re gonna try
the friend peaches.” Orlando said.
“Fine.” Viggo said.
	They sat for a few minutes in silence, before their
water and fried peaches had come.
“Try one.” Orli said, popping a slice into his mouth.
	Viggo gingerly picked up a slice and slid it into his
mouth, biting down.
“Mmmmmm. That is soooo good!” He said, picking up
another.
“See? I told you.” Orli said, taking a bite of his
third.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Two hours later Viggo stopped in front of Streak,
where Orli had insisted on being left.
“Can I see you again?” Viggo asked.
	Orli was about to say his usual line of “yeah, if you
come pay,” but something stopped him.
“Yeah, that’d be good.” He said instead.
“When?”
“I usually leave Streak about five in the morning.”
Orli said. “If you’re out here, I’ll see you.” 
“Five AM?” Viggo asked incredulously.
“Yeah.” Orli replied, smiling. “I work late,
remember?”
“Okay, I’ll be here.” Viggo said, and before he knew
it, he had leaned in a pressed his lips against
Orlando’s. 
	Orli was surprised when Viggo kissed him, and his
first instinct was to pull away, but he didn’t. What
was it about this guy that made him want to sink into
his arms and never leave? The kiss lasted a few
moment, before Viggo pulled away, and Orli opened the
car door in a daze.
“I’ll see you around.” Orli said, and walked into
Streak.
	Orlando hadn’t been in the club for two seconds
before he heard Pete’s commanding voice.
“Where the fuck have you been, Orlando?!”
	Orli’s body was shoved against the wall, arms pinned
to his sides, and he cringed at the smell of Pete’s
breath in his face.
“With that guy, the one who paid so much.” Orli said.
“The trick?” Pete asked.
	Trick? What trick? Oh! Viggo!
“Yeah, the trick.” Orli stuttered. “You said to treat
him right, so I did.”
“So you left?” Pete boomed, pressing Orli’s body
tightly against the wall.
“He didn’t want to stay here.” Orli told Pete. “He
wanted to go somewhere else.”
“What, he took you to a hotel?” Pete asked.
“Yeah, a hotel.” Orli lied. “A nice one.”
“You were gone for a  long time.” Pete said. “Did he
do you more than once?”
“Yeah, Pete. He did me three times.” Orli lied again.
What would Pete do if he knew Orli had just gone on a
date with the guy? Kill him, that’s what.
“Fine.” Pete said, letting go of Orlando. “Go home and
sleep. Be at work on time tomorrow, eh?”
“Yeah Pete.” Orli said, walking back out of the club.
	Orlando walked home with thoughts swirling in his
head. Why hadn’t he called Viggo a trick? That’s all
he was, he paid for Orli’s time, didn’t he? But he
didn’t take him to bed, that’s why he wasn’t a trick.
He didn’t shove Orli onto a dusty mattress and bang
him like he wanted Orli to sink into the floor. He
didn’t make Orli ache when he walked. He was nice to
Orli. Tricks weren’t nice to whores.
	Orlando banged on his door and let it swing open,
patting Toby on the head. He curled up under his
blanket, once again ignoring the ache in his abdomen,
and once again wishing he wasn’t so cold, that
tomorrow he didn’t have to go turn tricks to make
money, and that maybe, just maybe, his life would turn
around. But tonight there was another wish. Tonight he
wished there was someone else in this bed. Tonight he
wished he could curl up in Viggo’s arms, and never
have to worry again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER THREE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Orli walked out of Streak at five-thirty am the next
morning.  His eyes stung with tears and his body ached
from the constant abuse he’d recieved that night. All
he wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed and
die. Wiping his eyes, Orlando stepped into the street,
when a voice called out to him.
“Orlando!”
	Orli whirled around, ready to shove off any trick who
wanted him now, he was too tired. But it wasn’t a
trick who had called him. Sitting there in the nice
suburban was Viggo, his head out the window, a worried
expression on his face.
“Are you okay?” He asked, getting out of his car and
going over to Orlando, who stood in the middle of the
street, dumbstruck. “I’ve been waiting for half an
hour, did something happen?”
“No.” Orlando lied, turning his head to the ground so
Viggo wouldn’t see him crying.
“Are you sure?” Viggo asked, resting his hands on
Orlando’s arms and rubbing them affectionatly. “You
look like you’ve been crying. Why don’t we go
somewhere and talk?”
“No, I really can’t.” Orlando said. “I need to go
home.”
“Are you sure?” Viggo asked.
“Yeah, I really need to get some rest.” Orlando
admitted, looking into Viggo’s huge, blue eyes. 
“Do you want me to come with you?” Viggo asked. “I’ll
give you a ride.”
	Orlando thought for a moment. He had never shown a
trick his apartment, that was dangerous. He could end
up robbed or raped. But then he remembered last night.
Viggo wasn’t a trick, and hadn’t he wanted so badly
for Viggo to be there in his bed last night?
“Yeah, okay.” Orlando said, and started toward the
car.
	Getting in, Viggo shot worried glances at Orlando all
the way to his apartment, but the young man wouldn’t
say anything other than to give directions. Viggo
tried not to gasp when he saw the building Orlando
lived in. It was a shithole- to say the least- and it
looked like the kind of place where drug busts would
happen on a daily basis. 
	Viggo followed Orlando upstairs and watched him bang
on the door to get it to open, and then step inside.
“Hi Toby.” He heard Orli say as he walked in.
“Who’s Toby?” Viggo asked, coming in the door. “Oh,
that’s Toby.”
“He’s friendly.” Orlando said, locking the door behind
them and offering Viggo the only chair he owned.
Opening the pantry Orli pulled out a small bag of dog
food he’d managed to scrape some money together for,
and fed a cup of it to Toby.
“What kind of dog is he?” Viggo asked. 
“A great pyrenese.” Orlando said. “Its a pretty
uncommon breed, but I had one growing up. I saw him
tied to a tree every day on my way to work, and then
one day he wasn’t there. I found out his owner beat
him and left him in a ditch, so I went and brought him
home.”
“For a dog who’s been abused he’s pretty friendly.”
Viggo commented, watching Toby’s tongue loll out of
his mouth with the same rhythm his tail beat the side
of the table.
“Only to people he wants to be friendly to.” Orlando
replied, sitting on his mattress. “He doesn’t like
bald men.”
“Glad I’m not bald... yet.” Viggo said, and then
looked up to see Orlando yawn.
“I’m sorry! I’m keeping you from sleeping!” Viggo
cried, standing up. “I’ll leave you alone.”
“No! That’s okay!” Orlando said, suddenly not wishing
for Viggo to leave. “I can stay up.”
“No, you can’t.” Viggo said. “You need to sleep. I’ll
go get a motel somewhere.”
“A motel?” Orlando asked. “How far away do you live?”
“Only about an hour.” Viggo replied, starting to
unlock the door. “But I’m tired, I don’t want to
drive.”
“You could stay here.” Orlando said, and then looked
around his apartment. Like a guy like that wanted to
stay in a dump like this! “If you want.”
Viggo took his hand off the doorknob. “That would be
really nice.”
“I don’t have heat.” Orlando said, his face suddenly
becoming incredibly close to Viggo’s.
“I can make my own heat.” Viggo said, entranced in
Orlando’s eyes.
	Suddenly their lips connected, and before Orlando
could do anything he was on his mattress, Viggo
leaning over him, kissing a line down his neck. 
	And then suddenly he wasn’t. A loud crash followed
Orlando’s realization, and his initial reaction was to
jump and run, but he turned and saw Viggo on the
floor, hiding his face behind his hands, and Toby
standing over him, pinning him to the ground, teeth
bared and snarling.
“Toby no!” Orli cried, and jumped over to the dog. He
grabbed Toby’s collar and pulled him off Viggo, and
then helped the man up. “I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?”
“Not at all.” Viggo laughed. “Only my pride.”
“That was bad.” Orlando told Toby. “Very bad.”
“Don’t get mad at him.” Viggo insisted. “He was only
protecting you. He thought I was going to hurt you.”
“Were you?” Orlando asked.
Viggo was startled by that question. “Of course not.”
He answered. “I would never hurt you.”
	The two men were silent for a moment, before Toby
walked over to Viggo and licked his hand.
“He says he’s sorry.” Orlando said, smiling.
“I accept your apology, Toby.” Viggo laughed, and then
stepped closer to Orlando, taking the man’s face in
his hands. “You need to sleep.” He said, and started
to walk toward the door.
“Please stay.” Orlando didn’t know how that had gotten
out of his mouth, but he was pretty sure it had. “I
mean, I would really like the company. There aren’t
many people who’ll just be around me and not want
something in return.”
“Okay.” Viggo nodded, and walked back to Orlando. 
	He sat down on the mattress next to the younger man,
and laid down as far from Orlando as he could, not
wanting to scare him, even though Viggo really did
want to just curl his arms around that body and pull
it close.
	The two men lay in silence for a few minutes, in the
dark, before a question came into Viggo’s head that he
couldn’t ignore.
“Orli?”
“Yeah?”
“Why were you crying?” Viggo asked.
	Orlando was silent for a moment, not sure if he
should tell Viggo the truth or lie. He decided to tell
the truth.
“I’m having trouble paying my rent, and I haven’t been
able to afford to feed Toby and me as often as I
should.” Orlando admitted. “So I asked Pete if I could
keep a larger part of my pay. He said I could only
keep more money if I worked more, and I’m too tired as
it is. I can’t work more hours.”
“So how are you going to pay rent?” Viggo asked,
looking at where he knew Orlando’s face would be, if
he could see in the dark.
“I didn’t give Pete his full percentage tonight.”
Orlando said, finding it easy to talk to Viggo,
especially when he couldn’t see the look of disgust-
that’s what he was sure it was- on his face while he
told him about his troubles. “Pete found out and...”
Viggo wasn’t sure why Orlando had stopped. “And what?”
He asked.
“He raped me.” Orlando whispered, so that Viggo had to
strain to hear what had been said.
“He did what!?” He asked, sitting bolt upright in the
bed.
“Its nothing.” Orlando said, putting his hand on
Viggo’s shoulder. “Its not the first time, it won’t be
the last.”
“He can’t do that to you!” Viggo said.
“Yes he can.” Orlando argued, becoming defensive.
“He’s my pimp, he can do whatever he wants.”
“Your pimp?” Viggo cried. “You said he was your
manager!”
“That’s a nice was of saying pimp.” Orlando said,
tears starting to fall from his eyes. “The point is he
can do whatever he wants to me. In my line of work, if
you tell your manager ‘no’ or you try to run out on
them, you get raped, beat, and killed. There’s no way
out of it.”
	Viggo was shocked. He had no idea that was the “line
of work” Orlando was in. No one should have to go
through that kind of life.
“I’m sorry.” Was all Viggo could say, and he reached
out his arms and pulled Orlando into a tight embrace.
	Orlando was glad for the comfort. Once he was in
Vigg’s arms he felt like nothing could hurt him, like
everything else had gone away. He wrapped his arms
around Viggo and burried his face in the man’s
shoulder, letting his tears flow freely. 
	After a few long minutes, Orlando let go, and wiped
his eyes dry.
“Thank you.” He said, and lay back down, curling up
into a little “c”. 
“Any time.” Viggo replied, and lay down next to
Orlando- but this time he curled himself around the
young man’s body, putting his arm around him and
pulling Orlando close. 
	Orlando sighed contentedly, and for the first time in
years, he fell asleep not wishing for anything, only
happy with what was now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER FOUR
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

	Viggo was only half aware of where he was. His eyes
remained closed, and he could feel the tickle of warm
breath being breathed onto his chest, sending his
hairs into frenzy. Becoming more conscious, Viggo felt
the warm body that was huddled up against him, and the
leg that was trapped between his own, and the death
grip a hand had on his wrist, that held on like
forever was only a day away. Vig’s eyes fluttered
open, and he smiled as he saw the beautiful face that
greeted him. The eyelids were gently closed, lips
sweetly parted, a mass of brown curls falling over the
flawless face, and one word came to Viggo’s mind-
exquisite.
	Suddenly the eyelids opened, and deep, brown pools
came into focus. A look of panic crossed over
Orlando’s face, but was gone in an instant, and a
smile replaced it. 
“You’re perfect.” Viggo whispered.
	Orlando didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know the
kind of answer to give when someone called you
‘perfect.’ 
“No I’m not.” He said, letting go of Viggo’s wrist.
“Yes you are.” Viggo argued, wrapping his arm tighter
around Orli’s waist. “How can you say that?”
“Because I’m not.” Orlando said. “Look at what I do,
look at where I live! That’s not perfect.”
“But that’s not you.” Viggo said. “I never said this
place was perfect, or what you do was. I said you. YOU
are perfect. You didn’t choose to live here, and I’m
pretty damn sure you didn’t choose your job.”
“No, I didn’t.” Orlando answered, his eyes running
over Viggo’s bare chest. “Your shirt.” He said. “You
took it off.”
“I told you, I can make my own heat.” Viggo replied,
and kissed Orlando’s lips lightly. 
	How did this man come into his life? How could he
have such strong feelings for someone he met only a
week ago? Viggo didn’t understand it, but he knew it
was there. The mere thought of not seeing Orlando the
next day burned into his soul, and he pressed his lips
harder to Orli’s, happy that the kiss was returned so
fervently.
	Orlando was flying. Someone had called him perfect.
Viggo had called him perfect. Him. Orlando Bloom.
Viggo thought he was perfect. It frightened him, in
truth. He’d met this man only a week ago- and yes, he
was a trick- and he already knew the feeling that was
growing in his heart. Orlando sighed into Viggo’s
mouth, a sigh of pure contentment. But then another
thought found its way into his mind. This feeling
wasn’t good. It may be good now, but it led to bad
things. Love never got a whore anywhere. He put his
hands on Viggo’s chest and pushed hard, at the same
time jumping to stand, to get away from this man’s
arms before this went any farther. 
	Orlando stumbled to his feet, tripping over Toby as
he went, and backed to the other side of the room. A
confused Viggo appeared in front of him.
“What’s wrong?” Viggo asked, his face full of concern,
and Orlando realized he was crying-again. How did this
man do this to him? No one had ever seen Orlando cry,
not even when he was a child. He never cried in front
of anyone, and this man had known him for only a week
and already had seen him cry atleast three times.
Orlando wiped his eyes with his palms.
“I can’t do this.” He said. “I can’t.”
“Do what?” Viggo asked, reaching to take Orlando’s
hands.
“Love you.” Orlando said, before he knew it had come
out of his mouth.
Viggo was silent for a moment, and he successfully
took Orlando’s hand.
“You love me?” He asked.
	Orlando stared into Viggo’s eyes, searching for
something that might tell him what to say. It was
there, the same look that was in Orlando’s eyes was in
Viggo’s.
“Yes. I do.” Orlando smiled. “I love you, Viggo.”
“I love you, too.” Viggo said, and started to kiss
Orlando.
“No.” Orlando said, turning his head and pushing Viggo
away again. “No, we can’t do this.”
“Why?” Viggo asked. 
“Because I can’t love you.” Orlando answered, stepping
away. “I can’t love you, I can’t love anyone. Have you
even seen what happens to people who fall in love?
People who fall in love have a great time for a few
months, maybe a year, and then something bad happens!
Something really, really bad. Someone does something
stupid, and the other gets hurt, and they never stop
feeling that hurt, Viggo. They never stop.” Orlando
was crying again, sobbing by now, and he suddenly
collapsed to the floor, his face in his lap, and
bawled.

	Viggo went to Orlando, putting his arms around the
young man, cursing whoever had caused Orli this pain.
“What did he do to you, Orlando?” He asked. “Tell me.
I want to know.”
“It was my agent.” Orlando sobbed. “I met Trint in New
York, where I was trying to get a job. He said he
loved me. He swore he would take care of me. He was my
first.”
“He didn’t.” Viggo said, it wasn’t a question.
“He brought me to LA, said we could get married here.”
Orlando sniffed. “He said we could get married and
work together, me performing and him being my agent. I
should’ve known. I should’ve known that first time.”
“Known what? The first time for what?” Viggo asked,
hugging Orlando to him.
“I should’ve known I couldn’t trust him the first time
he took me to bed with him.” Orlando’s sobs subsided,
but he kept his face hidden from Viggo. “I said I
didn’t want to, I wasn’t ready. He insisted, and he...
he tied me to the bed.”
	Viggo didn’t know what to say. Instead he rubbed his
hand in circles on Orlando’s back, not knowing what
else to do other than grit his teeth and wish every
bad thing he knew could happen on this man.
“I’m sorry, Orlando.” Viggo said. “I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Orli said, standing up and
shrugging off Viggo’s hands. “How could you? You’re
just a trick, after all.” He snapped his mouth shut.
That wasn’t supposed to come out. Why did he say an
awful thing like that?
“Is that what you think of me?” Viggo asked, standing
up, his face contorting in anger.
“No!” Orlando cried. “No! I didn’t mean that! Viggo-”
“If that’s what you think Orlando then maybe this
shouldn’t go on.” Viggo yelled, pulling on his shirt
and his jacket, and heading for the door.
“Viggo please!” Orlando cried. “I’m sorry!  I didn’t
mean it!”
	SLAM! The door to Orlando’s apartment rattled the
walls as it shut, Viggo disappearing behind it. 
“Fuck!” Orlando yelled, slamming his fist against the
door, more tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
Why did he have to ruin everything? He wanted this to
stop. He wanted it to stop before something bad
happened-like this. But he couldn’t stop, not now. He
was too far in to this to make it stop, and he knew
that he could never intentionally push Viggo away. But
he had-not intentionally- but he had pushed Viggo
away. Now he had to do something to get him back.
	Glancing at his watch, Orlando sighed. ‘Something’
would have to wait until tomorrow. He was due at
Streak in less than an hour. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Viggo stormed down the stairs of the apartment
building, his heart racing with anger. A trick? Is
that all Orlando saw him as? Would he approach him one
day and hold out his hand and say “Hey mate, you owe
me two G.”
Viggo shoved open the door and walked outside, the
cold air striking his hot face and calming him
somewhat. No, Viggo didn’t think that was like Orli.
He wasn’t that kind of person. Viggo almost turned
around to go back upstairs, but stopped. He needed to
cool down first, to think things through. Opening his
car door Viggo got in and started the car. He was
supposed to have Henry today, anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Orlando went to Streak and performed as he always
did. By the time he was through, just like every time,
he wanted to do nothing more than curl up in bed and
stay there forever, letting the blankets eat him alive
and keep him in sanctuary. But he couldn’t do that. He
needed to talk to Viggo. That could pose as a problem,
though, seeing as how Orli didn’t know where Viggo
lived. That could be fixed. Orlando went to the
nearest phone booth and looked up Viggo Mortensen in
the LA directory. It wasn’t hard to find. Eleven
eighty-two South  Terrace Road. Orli had the general
idea of where that was, he’d worked for a guy there
once. 
	Orlando started to hail a taxi, but stopped when he
remembered just how much he had made that night- not
enough. Toby needed to eat something real soon.
Climbing on a bus Orli took the forty-five minute ride
to North Terrace Road, the street that crossed South
Terrace, and walked around the corner. He gasped when
he saw the houses. This was one of those two-story,
brick houses with circular windows, pretty white
picket fences, a nice Labrador Retriever in the front
yard playing with the kids, prominent lawyer husband
and secretary mom kind of neighborhoods. The kind of
neighborhood where car-pooling was done on a regular
basis and mom had a cabinet labeled “snacks for the
team” and a wardrobe in their daughter’s room labeled
either “riding habits” or “tutus.” Orlando had no idea
he had been sleeping with someone who brought in this
kind of money. Too bad he’s not a trick, Orlando
thought, and immidiantly hated himself for it. He was
here to try to apologize to Viggo, not ask him for
money. 
	Starting down the street Orlando began watching house
numbers. A few blocks down he finally came to eleven
eighty-two, and stopped at the sidewalk. Viggo’s house
wasn’t like the rest of them. Instead of red brick his
was white- Austin Stone, Orli thought- with grey-blue
paneling instead of yellow or white, and a large bay
window overlooking the front yard. Taking a breath
Orlando walked up the sidewalk, counting the number of
paces it took for him to reach the door. Twelve. Could
he turn that into three if he decided to turn and run?
Orlando’s finger found the doorbell, how he didn’t
know, and he heard the familiarly muffled “ding dong”
of a nice, family doorbell. Footsteps came from the
other side of the door, and Orlando held his breath.
Suddenly the door swung open, and Orli almost smiled,
but it faded when he saw the face. This wasn’t Viggo.
This was someone decades younger, with blonde hair and
rosy cheeks, and he wore a t-shirt and jeans instead
of the normal slacks and blazer that Viggo wore. 
“I’m sorry, I must have the wrong-” But Orli stopped.
There was Viggo’s face, as it appeared from around the
corner, an awed expression clouding his eyes.
Orlando’s apology melted on his tongue, and any
thought of saying he was sorry to Viggo for calling
him a trick vanished like a bubble on the breeze. His
face contorted in anger, and he spun on his heel and
started to run across the lawn. 
“Orlando!” The voice called after him, and suddenly
something had latched onto his arm and wouldn’t let
go. 
“Let go, Viggo!” Orli screamed. “I have nothing to say
to you!”
“Then why did you come?” Viggo asked.
“I came to say I was sorry!” Orli yelled back. “But
there’s no way I’m going to apologize to you after
what you’ve done! How could you, Vig? I’m too young
for you, but that- that is ridiculous! That kid is
still a minor! And I may be in the wrong line of work,
but I still have feelings! I thought I meant more to
you than that, Vig.”
“Orli, you do mean more to me than that.” Viggo said,
putting an arm around the frustrated young man. “Henry
is my son.”
“You never said you had a son.” Orli replied.
“Not yet, but I was planning to.” Viggo answered. “My
wife Exene and I split up when we had... sexual
differences.”
“You realized you were gay?” Orli grinned.
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry, Viggo.” Orlando apologized. “I didn’t mean
to call you a trick. You’re much more to me than
that.”
“I know.” Viggo answered. “Come on, I want you to meet
Henry.”
	Orlando and Viggo walked toward the house, and Viggo
let him in. Henry was sitting on the couch in the
front room, as if nothing had happened, minding his
own business. 
“Henry, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Viggo
said. “This is Orlando.”
	Henry stood up from the couch and shook Orli’s hand,
grinning.
“Nice to finally meet the man who’s made my dad ignore
my calls for the past week.” Henry smiled. 
“Sorry ‘bout that.” Orli said. “Its nice to meet you.”
“Ah, that’s okay.” Henry said, sitting back down and
gesturing for Orlando to join him. “Its about time dad
got out some more. He hasn’t dated in... well, years
really.”
	Orlando raised an eyebrow at Viggo.
“I never told him a thing.” Viggo said abashedly.
“Henry has a way of his own. And it has NOT been
years.”
	Orlando and Henry just laughed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
CHAPTER FIVE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Orlando tip-toed in Streak, trying to be a quiet as
possible. He wasn’t late this time, he was actually
early, but he had a feeling Pete was mad at him. He
could feel the anger radiating through the lower level
of the club. The past few weeks Orli’s performance-
out of bed and in it- had been less than adequate.
Mainly it was because he was so tired, and he knew
that. He also knew the reason why, and that was
because every morning he went and spent the day with
Viggo, until he had to go to Streak that evening. This
only allowed for two or three hours of sleep a night,
and although Viggo didn’t know it, he and Pete had
noticed Orlando’s lack of energy lately. 
	Orlando cringed when his foot hit a loose floorboard
and it let out a loud groan. 
“Orlando!” Pete’s booming base came echoing through
the halls, followed by loud footsteps.
“Yeah, Pete?” Orli smiled, trying to hide his fear.
“What the hell is wrong with you, you little fuck?”
Pete growled, shoving Orli up against the wall, making
him gasp. “I had TWO people tell me this morning that
you cheated them last night! They said you only let
them have a half-hour with them, and that you just
layed there like a freaking log on a river! What the
hell is that about?!”
“They said what?” Orlando tried not to gulp, realizing
what a huge mistake he’d made. 
“You little shit!” Pete yelled, shoving Orli harder
against the wall. “Its him, isn’t it? It’s that trick
you met a few weeks ago? I’ve seen you with him, I saw
him go up to your apartment once.”
“No!” Orlando yelled back, and then softened his
voice. “No Pete, I swear. Vi- he has nothing to do
with it. He- he just pays well, that’s all.”
“I don’t believe you, you little liar.” Pete said. “I
swear, Orlando, if I catch you with that fag again I’m
going to make you wish you’d never laid eyes on those
pretty big blues.”
	Pete shoved Orlando harder against the wall, making
him fall to the floor, and stormed off, slamming his
fist into the wall as he turned the corner and
disappeared. Orlando remained on the floor, his mind
reeling from what had just happened. Pete was going to
hurt him. Thoughts and memories filled his mind of
seeing other hustlers laying in alleys, blood covering
every surface of their body, the life gone from their
eyes. Shuddering, Orli knew what he had to do. 
	Standing up, Orlando crept out the back door of the
club, and walked the few blocks to the bus stop. Pete
was going to be so furious with him if he was late,
but this couldn’t wait. Orli had to talk to Viggo now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	One bus-ride and two blocks later, Orli managed to
force his finger to hit the doorbell of Viggo’s house.
He could hear footsteps approach the door, and was
suddenly greeted by Viggo’s wide grin.
“What are you doing here? I thought you had work
tonight?” Viggo pulled Orli into an embrace, followed
by a chaste kiss.
“I do. I have to get back.” Orli said. “But I needed
to talk to you first.”
“Alright.” Viggo said, pulling Orli into the house,
getting the distinct feeling that something was wrong.
“What’s wrong?”
“Viggo, I can’t see you anymore.” Orli said bluntly.
	Viggo didn’t say anything for a moment. He knew that
something was wrong with Orli, something was different
from the first time he’d met him, and he knew it was
probably because of him, but he hadn’t known it was
this big.
“What?” He finally asked.
“I can’t see you.” Orli repeated. “If Pete sees me
with you again he’s going to- he’s going to do
something bad. Please, Viggo, you can’t ever come to
my apartment again. Please promise me?”
“No! I can’t promise you that!” Viggo cried. “I can’t
promise you that I’ll never see you again! I love you,
Orli. I can’t, I wont!”
“Viggo PLEASE?!” Orli begged. “You have no idea what
he’ll do! If he finds out I’m with you he’s going to
do something awful. Please, just promise me?”	Viggo
sighed, a tear sliding down his cheek. He loved
Orlando with all his heart, but if seeing him meant
that he was going to be hurt, Viggo couldn’t live with
that.
“I promise.” Viggo whispered. 
“Thank you.” Orli said, and stepped toward him. “I
love you, Viggo.” Orli said, and kissed him sweetly on
the lips, before turned and walking out the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Orlando sat on the bus, staring out the window. He
couldn’t believe what he’d just done. He’s just told
Viggo- the man he loved more than anything- that he
could never see him again. Never. That was a really
long time. Orli reached up and brushed a tear off his
cheek, not wanting some weirdo to come ask him “what
was wrong?” 
	Suddenly the bus screeched to a halt, and his head
shot up, looking for a reason. The bus driver, a tall,
dark man with a beard, was standing up and talking to
someone on radio. Through the window, Orli could see
towers of black smoke billowing up from the hood of
the vehicle.
“Fuck!” Orlando swore, looking at his watch. He was
supposed to be at Streak in ten minutes. 
“I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen,” the Bus Driver
spoke. “We’re having some mechanical problems. I’m
afraid it’ll be another twenty to thirty minutes
before this bus will begin running again. Please, just
sit tight and this will go much faster.”
“Bloody hell.” Orlando muttered under his breath. He
had to get to Streak NOW, or Pete was going to kill
him. Orli laughed quietly to himself as he thought
about how literal that statement was right now.
	Sighing, Orli checked his watch again, and let his
head rest against the bus window. He was going to be
in so much trouble.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Orlando ran as fast as he could down the street,
trying desperately to swerve in an out of people, and
get to Streak as fast as possible. Turning the corner
into the alley, and flying through the door at the
back of the club, Orlando realized how impossible that
was. The whole place was empty. He was an hour and a
half late and the entire club was deserted. A faint,
emergency light shone above, but other than that, all
the lights had been shut off. Orlando started to turn
to leave, but a voice stopped him.
“Its about time, Bloom.” 
	Orli froze in his steps. Pete’s voice was laced with
anger, and as Orlando turned around slowly to face
him, he saw the hate burning in the big man’s eyes,
which shone from the shadows of a corner.
“Pete, I’m really, really sorry.” Orli said, backing
up as Pete slowly approached him. “My bus broke down-”
“I don’t give a flying rat’s ass about your fucking
bus!” Pete screamed, his fist breaking through the
wall next to Orlando’s head. “Do you have any idea how
much money I lost tonight?!”
“I’m sorry, Pete.” Orlando couldn’t stop his voice
from wavering.
“You were with him again, weren’t you?” Pete growled,
scowling into Orli’s face, his hot breath against
Orlando’s neck, his huge, bulging arms trapping Orli’s
escape. 
“No!” Orli said quickly, a little too quickly.
“Yes you were!” Pete yelled. “I told you you would
regret it!” 
	Orli started to duck, to try to get away, but it was
too late. A huge fist came flying through the air
toward Orlando’s face, and connected with Orli’s jaw
with a sickening crack, sending the young man to the
floor. Before Orli could react he felt something heavy
collide with his stomach, and he felt the contents of
it threaten to come up. That blow was followed by
another, and Orlando cried out when he heard something
in his chest crack and felt a searing pain shoot
through him. 
	Suddenly there was nothing there, it all stopped, and
Orli- unable to move- waited for something to happen.
It did. A cold draft struck Orli’s backside, and he
gasped when he felt something hot press against his
opening. A white-hot pain shot through his entire body
as he was entered, and his body was slammed into the
ground over and over again, and he screamed with the
agony. Visions of all the horror stories of
prostitutes who got on the wrong end of the rope with
their pimps swept through Orli’s mind, as he suddenly
realized what was happening to him. He was being
raped, being beaten. The headline “Local Boy Whore Is
Raped, Beaten, Left for Dead” flashed through his
mind, before an even worse pain tore through him, and
he was faintly aware of someone groaning with pleasure
behind him.
	The world was a blur for Orlando. His vision was
black, laced in red, and he couldn’t sort out the few
sounds that he heard around him. He was aware of the
feeling of something warm flowing from his buttocks,
down between his legs, and could see red dripping from
his brow. The pain that coursed through his body 
caused him to be unable to move, and when he felt
himself being lifted into the air by his jacket, he
moaned in agony. After being dragged somewhere (he
didn’t know where or how far) Orli felt himself drop
to the ground, and another hard object connected with
his stomach, causing blood to erupt from his mouth.
Finally, with one last thought, Orlando slipped into
unconsciousness. Viggo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER SIX
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Viggo sat at his kitchen table, his head resting on
his palms, staring at the pale wood of the furniture
and the salt shakers that looked like beer cans. How
could Orlando have just cut him off like that? How
could he just waltz in here and say “I can’t ever see
you again” without even giving an explanation? That
was just... wrong.
“Dad?” Henry’s voice cut into Viggo’s thoughts. Viggo
didn’t reply. “Dad, did you ever think that maybe it
wasn’t his fault?”
“What?” Viggo asked, looking up, stunned.
“Maybe its not his fault.” Henry suggested quietly.
“Maybe something’s really wrong.”  
“What do you mean ‘something’s really wrong’?” Viggo
asked, tilting his head in curiosity.
“Well, look at...erm... what he does.” Henry said,
sitting next to his father. Viggo had told him what
Orli’s profession was, and he wasn’t necessarily
comfortable with it, but it didn’t bother him. “You
knew he was always afraid of the people around him.
What if he really did have a reason to be afraid?”
	Of course! Why had he been so blind!? Viggo wanted to
kick himself for not noticing this before. Henry
always did have the brains he lacked sometimes. He was
more artistic than that, a real “right-brained” man. 
“Oh my God, Henry.” Vig said. “You’re right.”
	Viggo shot out of his chair and grabbed his coat.
“I’ll be back when I’m back.” He said, and took off
out the front door.
	Viggo drove like a mad man, trying to get to Orlando
as fast as possible. The longer it took to get there,
the more Viggo thought Henry was right. Something was
wrong with Orli- something very wrong. Swerving in and
out of cars, Viggo suddenly noticed blue and red
lights flashing behind him.
“Fuck!” Viggo slammed his fist on to the driving wheel
as he started to pull over.  He waited impatiently as
the police officer got out of his blue and white car
and walked- more like mosied- over to Viggo’s car.
“Hello officer.” Viggo said, trying to be calm, but
his eyes kept darting to the road, wanted to get to
Orlando as fast as possible.
“May I see your driver’s license?” The officer asked,
and Viggo nodded as he pulled his wallet out of his
back pocket. “Do you realize you were going eighty
miles an hour in a sixty-five mile an hour speed
zone?”
“Yes, I did, officer.” Viggo said. “Please, you have
to help me. I think someone hurt my friend Orlando.”
	The officer looked up from his notepad and cocked his
head at Viggo.
“Why do you think that?” He asked.
“Because he’s gotten threats before.” Viggo said. “And
today he came to me and told me not to come near him,
because he didn’t want me to get hurt.” Viggo guessed
the officer believed him because instead of finishing
the speeding ticket he flipped over to another page in
his booklet and started writing down something.
“Where do you think he is now?”
“Where he works.” Viggo answered. “Its a place called
Streak, its south  of here.”
“I’ll follow you.” The officer said.
“Alright.” Viggo answered, and sighed as the officer
ran back to his car and got in. Viggo put his car in
drive and merged back into the freeway traffic, once
again swerving in and out of cars, but the police
officer didn’t seem to mind this time.
	After what seemed like hours- but was really only
minutes- Viggo pulled up in front of Streak. Jumping
out of his car he ran to the officer.
“This is where he worked. The manager’s name is Pete,
he should be here.” Viggo said. 
“I’ll go talk to him.” The officer said. “I don’t want
you to say anything to this man, alright?”
“Alright.” Viggo agreed, and raced into the club after
the cop.
	The two men made their way to the back of the club,
looking around for Pete. Viggo almost didn’t see him
before he ducked behind a corner, having seen a police
officer in his club.
“That’s him!” Viggo yelled out, pointing, and the
officer ran after Pete. 
“Sir!? Sir!? I need to speak to you!” The officer
cried. 
	Pete kept running, but just as he got to the back
door he realized his mistake, and he stopped. His eyes
darted to the sides, searching for another way out,
but the police officer was already on him, gun drawn.
“Pete? Is that your name?” The officer asked.
“Yes, officer, it is.” Pete asked, putting on a cool
front, but his face had flushed white.
“Pete what?”
“Pete Nelson.” 
“Okay, Mr. Nelson, do you have a man by the name of
Orlando working here?” The officer asked.
“I did.” Pete replied calmly.
“Did?” 
“He quit yesterday.” Pete said, glaring at Viggo.
“Said he didn’t want to perform any more.”
“That’s a lie!” Viggo cried out, and the officer put
up a hand to shush him.
“Do you know where he is now?” The cop asked.
“Nope, no idea.” Pete said. “Now if you’ll excuse me,
I have performers to audition.” He walked quickly
away.
“Look, Officer Tavington, I know that guy is lying!”
Viggo said. “Please! You have to search this place,
he’s here somewhere!”
“I’m sorry. I can’t do anything without a warrant.”
The cop said. “Let me go back to my car and see if
there’s anything I can bust this guy for, which there
most likely is, and I’ll come back.”
	Viggo let out an exhasperated sigh. “Fine.” And
Officer Tavington disappeared. Viggo pounded his head
against the door, on the big, red, EXIT sign. Wait,
EXIT. This was the door Orli always came in and out
of. He knew that. Unlocking the bolt, Vig glanced
around and slipped quietly out into the dark alley. 
“Orli?” He whispered loudly. “Orlando?”
No answer.
	Viggo walked down to the end of the alley, looking
around the corner at the busy streets. No Orlando.
Turning around quickly, Viggo’s foot suddenly slipped
out from under him, and he went sliding to the ground.

“Oooommph!” Viggo cried out, catching himself with his
hands. “Shit.” He was laying in a puddle of oil, where
a car had leaked, and was now spread all over Viggo’s
clothes. Sitting up, Viggo saw something else on the
ground, but it wasn’t oil. Dipping his finger into the
liquid, Viggo saw his finger stain red. Blood. 
“Oh my god, Orli.” Viggo whispered to himself. “God
no.”
	Bringing himself to his feet, Viggo trotted down the
alley in the other direction, but realized after a few
blocks that it dead ended. Turning in a circle, he
searched desperately for something, anything that
would let him know where Orlando was. 
“You lookin’ for him?” A voice startled Viggo, and he
spun around to see a homeless man with a cigarette
sitting in the shadows of the corner. The man was
pointing cross the alley, to a dumpster, and at first
all Viggo saw was the metal bin, but then his eyes
focused on something laying between the dumpster and
the wall.
“ORLI!” Viggo cried, and ran to the boy. Rolling him
over, Viggo could see dried blood coating Orlando’s
mouth, chin, and nose. A gash had been made in his
left eyebrow, and blood had poured into his eye,
drying there. His clothes were torn and ragged, and
bruises covered his body. Viggo could see a nasty bump
on Orlando’s right arm, where it looked broken.
“Orlando? Can you hear me?” Viggo asked, pressing his
finger to Orlando’s radial pulse. It was faint, but it
was there.  “Come on, love, you’ll be okay.” Viggo
tried to reassure himself, but it didn’t work too
well. Scooping  the lifeless body in to his arms,
Viggo ran down the street, to Officer Tavington’s car.
“Please, Orlando, stay with me. You have to hold on.”
Viggo could feel tears threaten to spill from his
eyes. “You have to stay with me, keep fighting. Don’t
let that fucking bastard beat you. You can’t let him
win. Come on, Orlando, fight! Please fight. You have
to fight, you have to be okay. You have to be okay
because I love you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Seven
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Blank. Everything around Orlando was blank. He had no
conciousness of time, place, or being. All around him
was dark. Why was it so dark? Looking around, Orlando
searched frantically for a place to get away, to find
whatever, or whoever he seemed to be looking for,
though he didn’t know what or who they looked like. A
faint calling reached the man’s ears, but it was
muted, as if he had cotton stuffed into the orifices
on the sides of his head. The calling continued, and
at last Orlando could understand what the words spoke.
It was his name. Someone was calling his name! Someone
who loved him, who cared enough about him to try to
save him from this dreariness. Here! He wanted to
scream. He tried, over and over again. Here! Here!!
HERE!!! And yet no matter how loudly the screaming in
his head seemed to be, the one who was calling his
name did not seem to hear him. Nevertheless, after a
few life-long moments, Orlando could feel vibrations
coming from the floor beneath him, and suddenly he was
in the air. Warmth surrounded him, and he could hear
mumblings in his ears. This was the person who loved
him. It had to be. He heard the person whispering, and
heard the words “hold on” in his ear. Hold on? Hold
onto what? To the darkness around him? Why would he
want to do that, when he could just let himself go,
right now, right here. Here in these warm arms. But
then another whispered phrase pushed its way through
the cotton in his ears- “I love you.” 
	It was then that Orlando noticed it. Far, far away,
at the farthest end of the farthest black corner in
his mind, was a tiny, little, white speck, and as
Orlando stared at it, it seemed to grow larger and
larger. Run! Orlando commanded himself. Run to the
light! That’s where he is! And he ran. Oh how he ran!
The darkness wouldn’t claim him, not now, not this
time. This time he had something to hold on to. This
time, he had Viggo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Viggo sat in the chair beside the hospital bed, right
where he had been for the past three days and nights.
His skin had taken an odd, yellow parlour, and dark,
black circles encompassed his eyes. The doctors had
said that Orlando was stable- in physical health, that
was. He had a concussion, a broken left wrist, six
fractured ribs, a huge gash on his head that took
sixty stitches to close- but according to the doctors
he was fine. But not in mind. In mind he was unsteady.
Those few words were playing in Viggo’s mind like a
broken record. He may never wake up. He may never wake
up. He may never wake up. Never? That was a really
long time. Sure, Orlando would be alive, you could
keep anyone alive these days on a breathing machine,
for however long you wanted them “alive.” But just
because they were “alive” didn’t  mean that they
talked to you. They didn’t sit up in bed in the
morning and smile at you, the sun dancing in their
hair. They didn’t come home, flop onto the couch
beside you and say “God you look good. I had such a
shitty day” and then let you sit there and hold them
for hours on end. No, they didn’t do any of that.
Instead, they just lay there, their chests steadily
rising... falling... rising... falling... over and
over again, until “never” ended. 
	Another tear spilled down Viggo’s cheek. The past
three days they’d come in turrets, never stopping. His
sobbing had ceased in the first day, and his uneasy
breathing. Now he just let tears fall silently and
steadily down his face, as he continued to whisper to
Orli, to beg  him to come back to him.
“Please, Orlando. I know its hard, I know that your
life may not seem like something worth coming back to,
but we can make it something worth living.  You don’t
have to go back to your old job any more, never again.
Please? Just come back to me? Please. I love you.” As
always, there was no response, but for the rhythmic
“bleep” of the heart monitor. Viggo lifted Orlando’s
hand to his face and began kissing it gently, tasting
the saltiness of his own tears as they pooled in
Orlando’s palm. At last darkness took him, and Viggo
fell into an uneasy sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Orlando was almost there. He’d been running for so
long... so hard... He had to be nearly there. Reaching
out his hands in front of him Orli grabbed for
something, anything, but found nothing. 
“PLEASE!” He screamed as loud as he could. “Let me go
back! You have to let me go back! I love him!”
	Orlando’s feet continued to pound across the
darkness, eating up the floor as he ran, still
reaching for the bright light in front of him.
	 And then he wasn’t. Suddenly, a tingling sensation
spread through his body, starting at his chest and
working its way all the way to his fingertips. He felt
a steady ‘bump... bump... bump...’ in his chest, which
blended with an oddly familiar sound around him. His
hearing became clearer, and he recognized that sound.
He’d heard it before. Forcing his eyes open, Orli
stared at the little green line that travelled up and
down on the screen. “Bleep, bleep, bleep.” As his eyes
focused, Orli looked around the room, and finally saw
what he was looking for. 
	A mass of dirty colored hair surrounded the face, but
he knew who it was who lay there, face down, holding
onto Orlando’s hand as if death itself couldn’t take
him away- and it couldn’t. Orli smiled and gently,
weakly, moved his hand up to the soft face- which was
covered in a few day’s stubble- and let his fingers
trace the etchings of age. The face flinched, and
suddenly, staring up at him were two huge, blue orbs,
followed by a loud gasp. Orli smiled, and could think
of only one thing to say.
“I love you.” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER EIGHT
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I love you.” Orlando repeated, feeling his voice
become accustomed once again to speech.
	Viggo could do nothing but stare.  Tears began to
trickle steadily down his face. 
“Viggo?” Orli rasped. “Viggo are you alright?”
“Oh my God.” Viggo mumbled. “Are you really awake?”
“Yes, Viggo.” Orli laughed softly. “I’m awake.”
“Thank God.” Viggo said, and lunged from his chair. 
He wrapped his arms around Orlando and kissed him over
and over on this forehead and cheeks, working his way
down until he help Orlando’s hands in his own and was
applying butterfly kissed to his fingertips.
“How are you?” Vig asked quietly. “Are you alright?”
“No.” Orli stated. “I’m in so much pain that
everything is numb.”
“I’ll get the nurse.” Viggo said, starting to stand.
“No.” Orli stopped him, pulling his hands back own to
his level. “I want to talk to you first. I can live
with a dull throb.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Orli repeated. “Viggo, when Pete was...
when he was hurting me, I could only think of one
thing. There was only one thing that kept me from just
going ‘Okay, look, its over. This is where Orlando
Bloom gets written out of the script.’ That thing was
you, Viggo. You kept me from letting go. You mean so
much to me, Vig.”
“I love you so much, Orli.” Viggo said, kissing
Orlando’s hands again. “When I thought you could be in
trouble, or worse, I... I couldn’t stand to think
about it. I swear, Orli, nothing like this will ever
happen to you again. Let me take care of you. It’ll
all be okay.”
“For always.” Orli sobbed. “I’m yours for always.”
“Excuse me, is something the matter...” A feminine
voice in the doorway stopped. “Oh my lord...” The
nurse muttered. “Doctor! Doctor Newman!”
	The sound of footsteps could clearly be discerned
from down the hall, and Viggo recognized the man that
appeared as the doctor who had been attending to
Orlando for the past few days.
“Well...” The doctor said, his mouth agape. “This was
unexpected. You’re awake awfully soon, Mr. Bloom.”
“Really?” Orlando asked, grinning.
“In all honesty, we didn’t expect that you would wake
up for another few months, if ever.” Dr. Newman said,
reaching for Orlando’s arm and checking his vital
signs.
“It takes more than one bloody asshole to keep me
down, sir.” Orlando said, grinning wider.
	Dr. Newman gave Orlando a watch-your-mouth look, and
then laughed when Viggo apologized for Orlando’s foul
mouth.
“Its not foul.” Orli protested, his inner-child
shining through. “I’m just happy.”
“That’s good.” Dr. Newman said. “Happiness helps heal
the mind, body, and soul.” With this he raised an
eyebrow at Viggo.  “And you, sir, have been sitting by
this bed for far too long. Go get some sleep.”
“No.” Viggo stated flatly. “I’m not leaving.”
“There’s got to be someone else who can look over
Orlando, here.”
“There’s not.” Viggo said stiffly. “And I’m fine.”
“I’ll make him sleep, doctor.” Orlando promised.
“Cross my heart.”
“Alright.” Doctor Newman said. “Everything looks
alright here.  I imagine Orlando will be able to go
home within a few days, but for now, he needs *rest*.”
“Yes sir.” Orlando said, snuggling down into his
flimsy hospital blankets. “I’m tired, anyway.”
“Good.” Dr. Newman said, leaving the room.
“Go to sleep, love.” Viggo said, playing with the
curls in Orlando’s hair, and Orli’s eyes began to
droop. 
“I love you, Viggo.” He whispered before dozing off.
“I love you, too, Orlando.” Viggo whispered. “Thank
God you’re alright.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Orlando woke sometime in the night, his body aching
so much that he couldn’t sleep; couldn’t find peace of
mind. Instead, he lay in the hard hospital bed,
partially propped up on pillows, his casted arm that
read “I love you! -Viggo” resting across his chest,
the steady beep, beep, beep of the heart monitor, and
the rhythmic drip, drip, drip, drip of the fluid that
steadily disappeared into his forearm. Viggo lay
asleep on the couch next to the bed, stretched so far
that his feet dangled lazily off the end, and his arm
hung over the side so his fingers brushed the floor.
The dark bags under his eyes had disappeared after
finally being allowed some sleep, and he smiled
happily in his dreams. The door to the hospital room
was open, and Orlando could see the desk outside,
where one lone nurse sat at a computer, occasionally
standing to attend to a patient or person checking in,
but other than that she sat there idly sipping her
coffee and typing. A television somewhere in the hall
was turned down low, so that Orli could not discern
what it was saying, but he knew it was on. A fish tank
sat in front of the desk just outside his room, and
Orlando sat for what seemed like hours and mindlessly
watched the fish swim. One fish caught his eye; a
yellow puffer fish that would swim to one side of the
tank, make a little circle, and swim to the other
side, repeating the process, smiling the entire time.
It wasn’t until the clock next to his bed read 3:12am
that Orli finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Viggo awoke the next morning to the sight of Orlando
staring down at him from his hospital bed. 
“Good morning.” Viggo greeted, kissing Orlando’s
cheek.
“Morning, love.” Orlando said, not tearing his eyes
away from something outside the door.
“What are you staring at?” Viggo asked, following
Orlando’s gaze.
“Skwishy.” Orlando replied matter-of-factly. 
“What!?”
“Skwishy.” Orlando repeated. “The little yellow puffer
fish in the tank. He’s been swimming that pattern
non-stop all night. He looks soft.”
	Viggo wondered for a moment if Orlando was truly
alright, as he stared incredulously at him.
“I’m kidding, love.” Orlando said, tearing his eyes
away from the fish and kissing Vig on the cheek.
“Good.” Viggo said.
“What? You don’t like Skwishy?” Orlando asked,
grinning. “Come on, Vig. I want to take Skwishy home!”
	Viggo just shook his head.
“Well, if not Skwishy, would you do a favor for me?”
Orlando asked seriously.
“Anything.” Viggo replied.
“Could you go to my apartment and feed Toby for me?”
Orlando asked. “Please? He hasn’t eaten for three
days. That’s just wrong.”
“Of course, love.” Viggo replied.
“Good morning!” Dr. Newman came striding in cheerfully
just at that moment. “How do you feel Orlando?”
“Could I have some more morphine, please?” Orli asked.
“Sore?”
“Very.”
“Alright, then.” Dr. Newman said, writing something on
his clipboard. “I’ve got some good news for you.
Everything looks wonderfully, you’ve made an
incredible recovery. If you get a clean bill of health
tomorrow, you can go home tomorrow afternoon.”
“Thank you!” Orlando said. 
“Thank you very much.” Viggo replied.
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Dr. Newman said. 
“Hey doctor!” Orlando stopped the man before he could
disappear out the door. “Does that puffy fish have a
name?”
“Him?” Dr. Newman asked, pointing to the fish
previously dubbed Skwishy. “Well Nurse Mary calls him
Sherman, but just between you and me, I think he looks
more like a Skwishy.” 
	Dr. Newman disappeared, and Orlando gave Viggo a
“how’d-he-know-that? look. Viggo shrugged.
“I’ll go see to Toby.” Viggo said, standing up. 
“Good.” Orlando said, kissing Viggo goodbye. “Say bye
to Skwishy on the way out!”
	Viggo gave Orli an odd look, but as he exited Orlando
could distinctly hear him say “goodbye Skwishy” before
he took off around the corner.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER NINE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	How could someone live in a place like this? That was
Viggo’s first thought when he entered Orlando’s
apartment. Toby was laying casually on the “bed”, but
snarled when Viggo entered, his teeth showing and his
hackles raised. 
“Don’t worry, Toby. It’s me, remember?” Viggo asked,
walking cautiously toward the monster dog. “See? I
have a key.” Viggo dangled the key Orlando had given
him in front of the dog, and Toby lowered his lips.
“There, that’s better.”
	Viggo walked into the little nook that Orlando called
a kitchen and began attempting to scrounge something
up for the dog, who had come over and now sat on the
floor, watching Viggo’s every move. 
“There’s nothing here.” Viggo mumbled to the dog,
pawing through empty cabinets. “Not a thing.” Viggo
set down an expired can of tuna and turned and eyed
the dog. “So what do I do with you?”
	To answer Viggo’s question Toby walked over to the
apartment door and pawed it once, then turned and
regarded Viggo with a stubborn eye. 
“I guess I have to.” Viggo said. “I’ll bet there’s a
pile of shit around here somewhere.”
	Spotting the leash hanging from the doorknob, Viggo
snapped it onto Toby’s collar and proceeded to be drug
down the hall and outside, where the poor animal
immediately proceeded to lift his leg on the nearest
tree available. 
	Viggo sighed. He loved dogs, but he’d never had one.
He didn’t know what to do with a dog. Admitting
defeat, Viggo pulled the dog toward his car, cringing
when the animal spread muddy footprints on his white
leather interior, and then bounced happily into the
front seat as if that was where he’d spent his entire
life. 
“Alright, now what?” Viggo asked the dog once he was
in the driver’s seat. “Right, food.”
	Not knowing what kind of dog food to buy the dog, or
where to get it, and badly wanting to get back to
Orlando, Viggo decided on the one thing he knew all
animals craved, human or otherwise: fast food.
“Yeah, I’ll have three double cheeseburgers.” Viggo
told the inaudible intercom at McDonalds. Toby let out
a groan and Viggo turned to regard him, realizing the
dog’s enormous size. “Better make that four.” He said.
	Viggo pulled up to the window and gratefully accepted
the food, unwrapping a cheeseburger and handing it to
Toby. Before the man could pull his hand out of the
way it had been engulfed by the huge cavern that was
the dog’s mouth, and was left sitting with his arm
extended and huge gobs of drool oozing off his palm.
Toby sat with big brown eyes begging Viggo for
another, his tongue lolling from the side of his
mouth. 
“That’s sick.” Viggo said, and unwrapped the next
cheeseburger. “Here, try that.” He said, tossing the
cheeseburger toward Toby. The dog opened his mouth and
suddenly the cheeseburger was no more.
“Wow.” Viggo said. “If I could do that I’d be as fat
as the rest of the American population.”
	Viggo fed Toby the remainder of his meal and then
drove the half hour to his house, where he opened the
car door and the dog leaped out and ran right for the
door. Viggo unlocked the house and pushed the door
opened, and gasped when Toby ran in and jumped right
onto his couch, leaving dog hair and mud all over the
upholstery. 
“Oh shit.” Viggo mumbled. “Well, I guess you can’t
make too much of a mess. You seem good enough. Stay
there.” Viggo turned and left the house, wondering
what he would come home to.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Orlando sat in the hospital bed, peering through the
half-shut lids of his eyes at the fish tank outside. 
“Here, Skwishy! Come Skwishy!” Orlando joked out of
sheer boredom. “Bloody hell.”
“Hello Orlando.” The sickeningly cheery voice of Nurse
Mary entered the room, and Orli tried to stifle a
groan. “How are you feeling this afternoon?”
“Like the whole bloody moon has fallen on top of me.”
Orlando said, looking at the tidy nurse from under his
eyelids. “May I *please* have some more morphine?”
“I’m sorry, Orlando.” Nurse Mary said, documenting
something on her clipboard. “You can’t have any more
until six o’clock.”
“Please?” Orlando begged.
“Hey love!” Viggo’s much-too-cheerful voice entered
the room, the man kissing Orlando’s forehead. “How are
you?”
“She won’t give me any more!” Orlando cried. “And I’m
in severe, brain-crushing pain!”
“He’s had his full afternoon dosage already.” Nurse
Mary explained.
“Then that’s it.” Viggo told Orlando, brushing the
boy’s sweaty hair from his forehead.
“The best I can do is give you some aspirin.” The
blonde nurse said.
	Orlando nodded gratefully and gulped down the two
little pills, then let his head fall back on the hard
pillows. 
“So how was Toby?” Orlando asked once the nurse had
gone. 
“Toby was great.” Viggo said a little untruthfully. “I
fed him cheeseburgers. I hope that’s okay.”
“Sure. He probably loved it.” Orlando smiled, his eyes
drooping. 
“Yeah, a little to much.”
“So can I go home now?” Orlando asked. 
“I’m not sure.” Viggo admitted. “I’ll go find out.
Toby will be glad to see you once we get back to the
house.”
“House?” Orlando asked incredulously.
“Yeah, he’s at my house.” Viggo said.
“Oh shite.” Orlando said. “I never told you. Toby is
really, really bad with water.”
“What do you mean?” Viggo asked, getting a little more
than worried.
“When he was a puppy he figured out how to turn water
faucets on, and now he does it... just for fun.”
Orlando explained. “And he leaves them running.”
Viggo’s eyes widened. “That’s alright.” He lied.
“That’s okay. You just don’t worry and I’ll go find
out how to get you home, fast.”
“I’m sorry, Vig.” Orlando sighed, his eyes closing
even more.
“That’s alright, Orlando.” Viggo said sweetly, kissing
the boy’s head. “Everything is alright now. Everything
will be alright from now on.” 
	Viggo smiled as Orlando’s eyes finally closed, a
small smile playing across the sleeping man’s lips.
“I love you, angel.” Viggo whispered, and tip-toed out
the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER TEN
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	The doctor came in to check of Orlando one last time
before he released him, and after giving the “okay”
Orlando was loaded into a wheelchair and now sat
not-so-patiently while Viggo filled out paperwork and
struggled with the “freaking insurance company.” 
“Okay, finally, I’m done.” Viggo said, turning around
to look at Orlando. 
	Orli looked up at Viggo with bug, puppy-dog eyes and
pouted his lower lip.
“Please?” He whined.
“Please what?”
“Skwishy?”
Viggo sighed. “But... where will we keep him?”
“I thought you said you had a fish tank?” Orlando
asked.
“I do.” Viggo sighed again. “Fish are the only animals
I can keep up with.”
“Good!” Orlando smiled. “Please, Vig? I’ll do
anything! Look how cute he is!”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
	Viggo turned back around to the counter and began
bargaining with the nurse behind the desk. Orlando
only half listened, hearing something about how the
nurse “wasn’t in control of that department of the
hospital” or something along those lines. Orlando was
too busy watching Dr. Newman approach the fish tank
with a bag in one hand, and a net in the other. The
doctor smiled and winked at Orli, and then dunked the
fish net into the tank. Skwishy swam about in a few
circles, before the net came over him and he was
suddenly sent splashing into the little bag. Dr.
Newman tied the bag shut and silently walked over to
Orlando, handing him the bag. 
“You’re my hero.” Orlando said jokingly. 
“Why do you think I became a doctor?” Newman asked.
“I thought it was to help people.” Orlando argued.
“I did help you.” Dr. Newman said, “I made you smile.
A smile is worth a whole lot more than an IV drip of
morphine. Take care, Orlando.” And with that, the
doctor was gone.
	Orlando tucked the bag containing the fish into his
jacket and turned his attention back to the desk,
where the nurse and Viggo were still arguing- Viggo
now to the point of begging her. 
“Viggo?” Orlando asked, tapping the older man on the
side. “Viggo its okay.”
“What?” Viggo asked, his eyebrows raised.
“Obviously the lady loves the little guy, let her keep
him.” Orlando said. “Come on, lets go.”
	Viggo eyed Orlando for a second, before shrugging his
shoulders and stepping behind the wheelchair, pushing
Orlando out the hospital doors.
“I can’t believe you.” Viggo said.
“What?”
“You just randomly changed  your mind like that.”
Viggo said. “That’s unbelievable.”
“I didn’t randomly change my mind.” Orlando said,
glancing around to be sure no one was watching. “I got
exactly what I wanted.” Orlando reached into his
jacket and produced the little fish, who was lazily
swimming circles in the bag.
“Oh crap.” Viggo said. “Orli, did you steal him?”
“Of course I didn’t steal him!” Orlando cried. “I may
turn tricks, but I’m not some common thief! Dr. Newman
gave him to me, while the nurse had her back turned.”	
	Viggo shook his head in disbelief. Here was this
twenty-six year old boy who had just coned his way
into getting a fish that he-for some unknown reason-
dearly loved, without lifting a finger. It was those
damn puppy-dog eyes, Viggo concluded. 
“You know, you may be a man, Orlando,” Viggo said,
“but you act like a little boy sometimes.”
“Only to get what I want.” Orlando smiled.
“Whatever works.” Viggo said, shrugging his shoulders.
	Viggo started to lift Orlando out of the wheelchair
to place him in the front seat of the car, when his
cell phone rang.
“Hello?” Viggo asked, and suddenly his face fell. “Oh
my god. No, no, we’ll be alright. Thanks.”
“What was it?” Orlando asked worriedly. “Was it the
police?”
Viggo nodded.
“He uhm... he got out of prison.” Viggo said quietly.
“Pete got out of prison.”
Orlando’s face suddenly went sheet-white. “For me.” He
whispered. “He’s coming for me.”
“No, Orlando, he’s not.” Viggo insisted. “He can’t be.
Why would he come for you?”
“Because I’m the reason he was in jail.” Orlando said,
a tear trailing down his cheek. “Revenge is all he
wants, its all he cares about. Its like the second
helping on his dinner table. He didn’t get me the
first time so he’ll come back for more because he’s
still hungry. He’s still hungering for me.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER ELEVEN
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Viggo couldn’t help the worried glances he gave
Orlando on the way home. He sat, trying to concentrate
on the road, but every few minutes he would glance
over and look at Orli, as if he thought he would turn
away and the boy would disappear. After half an hour
of traffic, Orlando let out a grumble.
“I’m fine!” He said in response to one of Vig’s
glances.
“Are you sure?” Viggo asked. “I could take you back to
the hospital. You’d be safe-”
“No!” Orlando cut Viggo off. “I don’t want to go
anywhere! I just want to stay with you.”
	Viggo reached over and pulled Orli toward him, laying
a kiss on his forehead.
“Then that’s right where you’ll be.” Viggo said, and
smiled when he heard Orli sigh. “I’m sorry I’m
bothering you.” Viggo said as he changed lanes. “Its
just that I love you so much, and I can’t stand to see
you hurt. I can’t believe you’re actually here.”
“You can’t!?” Orli laughed. “Look at where I was two
months ago! Look at where I am now! I can’t believe
I’m here.” Orli pointed to Viggo’s house, which they
had just arrived at. “I can’t believe I found you.”
	Viggo leaned over the seat and kissed Orli softly on
the lips before turning off the car and climbing out.
He pulled Orlando’s wheelchair out of the backseat and
unfolded it, wheeling it around the car to Orli, who
was waiting patiently in the car, seatbelt off and
door open, smiling. 
“Alright my little cherub, in you go.” Viggo smiled,
lifting Orli out of the car and setting him easily
into the chair.
“I couldn’t done that myself.” Orlando said.
“Don’t take away my fun.” Viggo said, rolling Orli to
the front door. “Welcome to your new home.” He said,
pushing the door open.
Silence.
“Vig, I am so sorry.” Orli said quietly.
“My house!” Viggo whimpered, walking inside, leaving
Orli on the front step. Orlando’s face contorted in
worry as he wheeled himself into the house, cringing
at the damage. The living room wasn’t *that* bad. A
few big potted plants had been knocked over, spilling
soil everywhere, and leaves were strewn all over the
place. The kitchen, however, was another story. The
glass sliding door that led to the back yard was gone,
leaving millions of little shards of glass everywhere,
the table had somehow had two of its legs knocked off,
and was leaning all the way to the floor, the bowl of
fruit that had been a centerpiece was scattered over
the floor. The worst thing, however, was what Orlando
had dreaded. 
	The kitchen sink was stopped up, and on. Water
spilled over the counter to the floor, leaving a good
two inches of water on the floor. 
“Good thing the kitchen is lower than the rest of the
house, huh Vig?” Orlando joked half-heartedly, as he
watched an apple drift by his feet.
	Viggo came out of his trance and leapt across the
room, shutting off the water. He stood for a moment
longer before crying “my studio!” and taking off down
the hall.
	Just then a giant, wet, fuzzy ball came gallivanting
through the would-be door, and upon seeing Orlando
charged across the room, taking out the remainder of
the table as he went, and plastered Orli’s face with
kisses.
“Bad dog!” Orlando scolded, but smiled and patted the
dog lovingly. “How could you do this to Viggo’s house?
Huh? That was bad!”
“Well, we know he can’t pick locks.” Viggo said,
re-entering the kitchen. “My studio is fine.”
“Good.” Orlando said. “I’m so sorry. I’ll work to pay
off all the damages.”	Viggo tore his eyes from the
wreckage and looked Orlando in the eye.
“Don’t be sorry, love.” He said, kneeling next to the
brown-eyed boy. “This is not your fault, you don’t
have to work to pay off anything.”
“But I will!” Orlando argued, rubbing Toby’s head. “I
don’t want to be worthless.”
“You are NOT worthless.” Viggo argued. “If you want to
help pay for it you can, but later, when you’re better
and can get a good job. I think the door is the only
thing that will require professional service anyway.”
“Good.” Orlando said, and smiled. “I love you.”
“I love you.” Viggo planted a kiss on Orli’s forehead,
before standing up and walking to the “door”, where he
opened the existing frame and watched the water pour
out of the kitchen and down the steps to the grass
outside.
“I’m really glad I bought a house with a wooden
floor.” Viggo joked, admiring the way the fruit from
the table bounced down the steps with the water.
“Now, I know you can’t do much while you’re stuck in a
chair, but you can run a vacuum.” Viggo said, grinning
wickedly at Orlando. “And my living room is covered in
potting soil.”
“Aye-aye, captain!” Orlando saluted, and wheeled his
way up the step and out of the kitchen, ready to start
cleaning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Thank god that’s over.” Orlando sighed, collapsing
onto the bed where Viggo set him after carrying him up
the stairs, to the protests of Orlando.  After an
entire afternoon of cleaning, the only things that
would lead someone to believe the house had been
raided by a dog was the cardboard-covered sliding
door, and the absence of a kitchen table.
“Vig?” Orlando sat up and looked at Viggo, who was
rummaging through his drawers. “Where are those pain
killers the doctor sent home?”
	Viggo stopped going through his drawers and looked up
at Orli.
“Do you hurt?” He asked.
“A little.” Orlando nodded.
“They’re downstairs. I’ll get them.” Viggo said,
taking off out of the bedroom. 	
	Orlando stood up warily, holding onto the dresser in
front of him. Pictures lined the the mirror, dozens of
them, most of them of Viggo’s son.
“Hey Viggo!” Orlando called as he heard Viggo’s
footsteps coming up the stairs, followed by the sound
of Toby pawing his way behind Vig.
“Yeah?”
“Where’s Henry?”
“He’s at school.” Viggo said, handing Orlando two
pills and a glass of water, and sighing as Toby jumped
onto his armchair and let his eyes drift closed..
“He’s going to UCLA.”
“Oh.” Orlando said, and swallowed the pills. 
“What’s wrong?” Viggo asked, rummaging through the
drawers again.
“Nothing.” Orlando replied. “What are you looking
for?”
“This.” Viggo announced, holding up a pair of
sweatpants. “They’re the smallest ones I have, they’ll
have to do until we can get your own stuff over here
tomorrow.”
Orli laughed and took the sweatpants as Viggo
disappeared into the bathroom.
“Hey Viggo?” Orlando pulled on the sweatpants, trying
to remain steady on his feet.
“Yeah?”
“When is Henry coming back here again?” Orlando asked,
still staring at the pictures.
“Uhm... his last break from school was for
Thanksgiving, and he went to Exene’s for that. Then
there’s Christmas, he comes here this year.”
“Good.” Orlando said.
“Why do you ask?” Viggo asked, reappearing from the
bathroom, teeth brushed and face dripping.
“I just want to get to know him a bit better.” Orli
said, sitting back down on the bed.
	Viggo smiled and pulled Orlando down onto the bed
with him, sighing as the mop of brown curls snuggled
against his chest, a warm hand laying across his
abdomen.
“I’m glad you do.” Viggo said. “You’re part of the
family now, Orli.”
“Are you sure...” Orlando paused. “Are you sure he’s
not upset with me? For being with you?”
“Of course I’m sure!” Viggo said. “Henry’s a great
kid, he doesn’t hold grudges. He’ll love you.”
“Good.” Orlando mumbled as he drifted into sleep. “I
always wanted a son.”
Viggo’s eyes shot wide open.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER TWELVE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	      Viggo stared down at the mess of brown curls,
the eyes that were hidden by lightly closed eyelids,
the strong jaw bone. He looked so innocent. He wasn’t,
but he looked it. Orli had lived a much harder life
than Viggo. He had lived in the real world; a world
where a person would do anything to get money, to be
able to eat something the next day. It was a world
where it was instinct to hit the floor when you heard
a “bang,” and when you walked down the street you put
on your best “mean” face in hopes that people would
think you were tough and would leave you alone. Viggo
had lived in a lie. He sat up here in his nice,
two-story house and grumbled about the fact that he
had to crunch numbers all day. Meeting Orlando had put
his entire world into perspective, and he realized now
how lucky he was.
	Viggo reached out his hand and gently stroked Orli’s
cheek, avoiding the blue and purple bruise that
temporarily marred his features.
“Rise and shine, beautiful.” He whispered, smiling as
Orli grumbled and pulled himself closer to Viggo,
burying his face in the crook of Viggo’s neck.
“Come on, love, we have to go get your stuff today.”
Viggo said.
“Don’ wanna.” Orli mumbled.
“You don’t want your stuff?” Viggo asked.
“I don’t wanna go back there.” Orlando mumbled,
tickling the hairs on Vig’s neck. “I wanna stay here.”
Viggo sighed. “Fine.” He said, and stood up, letting
Orli fall back to the empty bed.
“Hey!” Orli cried, now wide awake.
“If you want to stay here that’s fine by me.” Viggo
said as he disappeared into the bathroom. “But I’m
going to go get your stuff this morning, because I
promised my boss that I’d be in to work today.”
	Orli’s eyes went wide.
“Oh my gosh, Viggo.” He said. “I didn’t even think
about your job! Did you really miss the last five days
because of me!?”
“Well... yes.” Viggo said. “But that’s okay. I don’t
get sick, I don’t need sick days.”
“I’m so sorry, Viggo.” Orlando said, standing warily
up from the bed.
“Its alright.” Viggo replied, walking across the room
and putting his arm around Orlando, helping him walk
slowly to the bathroom. “I’d rather be with you than
at my job, anyway.”
“I’m glad to know I’m more likeable than a bunch of
numbers.” Orlando grinned as he disappeared into the
bathroom.
	Viggo laughed and sat down in the chair next to the
bay window. He loved his big, black chair... and all
its little... white... furs. Suddenly Viggo’s eyes
flew open.
“Orli!?”
“Yeah?” From inside the bathroom.
“Where’s Toby?”
Silence.
“Uhhhhh...” Came Orli’s reply.
	Viggo took off down the stairs, taking three steps at
a time. Rushing into the kitchen, Viggo scanned for
wreckage. None. Viggo ran down the hall, everything
was in place. Upon entering the living room, Vig found
everything in order, including the dog. Toby lay
stretched out across the couch, his eyes closed, his
tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. 
“Viggo?” Orli’s voice came from the top of the stairs.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Viggo called back. “Everything’s fine. Toby’s
asleep.”
	Viggo gently patted the giant dog’s head, smiling
when the beast licked his hand and followed him into
the kitchen. Viggo opened the cardboard door and let
the dog into the back yard before returning upstairs.
Orlando was sitting on the bed, dressed in the same
clothes he had worn yesterday, downing a couple of
pain relievers.
“Do you fell okay?” Viggo asked, pulling on his shirt.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Orli answered. “I just ache, and my
ribs hurt.”
“Is it bad?” Viggo pulled on his slacks.
“Its okay.” Orli responded. “I can stand a car ride,
if that’s what you mean.”
“Good.” Viggo said. 
“I’ll just come back here afterwards and collapse on
your beautiful leather couch and watch your big screen
television.” Orlando grinned.
“I don’t have a big screen TV.” Viggo laughed.
“Its big compared to my old one.” Orlando said,
standing from the bed. He took a few slow steps toward
the stairs, his hand against the wall to steady
himself, before he stopped. “Vig?”
	Viggo turned around to see the pained expression that
covered Orlando’s face. He dropped the jacket he was
holding and rushed over to Orli, letting the boy use
him for support.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go.” Viggo said. “I’ll go if you
want me to.”
	Orli shook his head.
“I want to go.” He said, his face contorted in pain,
his eyes squeezed shut. “I just...”
	Viggo lifted Orlando into his arms and carried him
down stairs, setting him into his wheelchair that
waited at the bottom of the steps.
“We’ll go when you’re ready.” Viggo said. “When you
feel better.”
	Orli nodded and wheeled himself into the kitchen
behind Viggo. 
“You go on to work, then.” Orli said. “I’ll be fine
here.”
“Are you sure?” Viggo asked as he let Toby inside.
“Yes.” Orli smiled as he ran his hands through Toby’s
fur.
“Alright.” Viggo said. “And while I’m out, I’ll stop
and get some dog food.”
“Okay.” Orli said, wheeling into the living room.
“If you need anything call me on my cell phone.” Viggo
said. “The number’s on the refrigerator.”
“Okay.” Orli said.
“I love you.” Viggo said, placing a chaste kiss on
Orli’s lips.
“I love you, too.” Orli said, smiling at Viggo as he
disappeared out the door.
	Orli turned around, laughing as he spotted Skwishy
swimming circles in the aquarium. All the rest of
Viggo’s fish were hiding, apparently a little freaked
out by the little yellow puffer fish. 
“Come on, Toby.” Orli said. “Lets watch tv.”
	Orlando picked up the remote control before pushing
his chair back so that he was a comfortable distance
from the tv. The man flipped through the channels
mindlessly, laughing at some of the demented things
that came on cable tv. 
“Oh my lord, Marsha! Your hair!... Every time a bell
rings, an angel gets her... Animal crackers in my
soup... The naked mole rat is one of the world’s...
Eat my shorts!”
	Orli smiled and settled on America’s most cherished
television show: The Simpsons. 
	

	Two hours and four Simpsons’ reruns later, Orli heard
a knock on the door. It felt funny to be answering
Viggo’s door. What if it was his ex? That would be
awkward. Then Orli remembered Viggo saying something
last night about calling a glass repair man. That’s
probably who it was. Another knock resounded through
the house, and Orli realised he should probably go see
who it was. Orli whistled for Toby to follow him as he
wheeled down the hall and to the front door. The dog
followed happily behind. Orli reached for the door
knob, but something stopped him. Something inside him
was telling him not to answer the door. Instead, Orli
pushed himself clumsily out of the chair, wincing as
his broken ribs protested his movement. Orli looked
through the little window on the door, peering hard.
At first he didn’t see anyone, but then a familiar,
tattooed face came into view. 
“Hello Orlando.” The figure outside grinned.
	Orli’s face went pale, his breathing becoming rapid
and shallow. Dizziness overcame him, and he fell
backward into his chair, crying out as his ribs
crunched under his weight.
“Come on Orlando, I know you’re there.” The voice
outside teased. “I just want to talk. Open the door.”
	Orli glanced up, making sure the door was locked. It
was. For a moment all sense left Orlando’s mind, he
couldn’t figure out what to do. Then something
snapped, and Orli grabbed the wheels on the chair,
pushing as fast as he could to the kitchen. He
snatched up the phone and began dialing Viggo’s cell
phone number. One, two, three rings...
“Hello?”
“Viggo! Viggo he’s here!” Orli panicked.
“Orli? Who’s here?” Viggo’s voice was laced with
worry.
“Pete!” Orli whispered loudly, afraid that the man
outside would hear him. “Pete’s here! Please come
home, Viggo. Please, please please!”
	Tears began to run down Orlando’s face, and he
clutched the phone so hard his knuckles turned white. 
“I’m coming. I’m coming right now.” Viggo said. “Go
into my studio, Orli, and lock the door. I’m coming
home right now.”
	Orli nodded at the phone before hanging up. He turned
his chair to make his way to Viggo’s studio, but
stopped dead. The cardboard door was wripped through,
leaving a huge hole in the middle, and standing right
there, in Viggo’s kitchen, was Pete. 
“Its good to see you, Orlando. What say we have a
little chat?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Orli stared, wide-eyed, short-breathed, frozen in
fear. 
“Pete.” He whispered.
“Come here, Orlando.” Pete grinned maliciously, and
Orli shook his head.
“Come here.” Pete said firmly.
	Orli shook his head again, unable to move. Both exits
were blocked by this giant of a man. Pete took a step
toward Orli, grabbing the back of the wheelchair and
spinning it around to where Orli’s back was to the
monster.
“No! Let go!” Orli screamed, attempting to punch the
man, but his ribs would not allow him to do so.
	Suddenly something huge came streaking across Orli’s
face, knocking over the wheelchair, sending Orli
tumbling to the floor with a loud cry. His face
contorted in pain as he looked up from the floor to
see Pete on the ground, with Toby towering over him,
teeth latched onto his shoulder. Pete’s light-blue
shirt was quickly staining red. Orli did the first
thing that came to mind- he fled. Moaning in pain,
Orli pulled himself onto his elbows and began to worm
his way down the hall as quickly as he could. He could
hear Pete screaming behind him, and Toby snarling, and
the sound of scuffling. 
	Almost there. He was almost there.... Orli reached
above him for the door knob, a glimpse of hope
resounding through him when he found the knob and
turned it, hearing it click and then the door swing
open. Then another sound echoed through the house. It
was the sound of something heavy, something very
heavy, slamming into something big. And then there
were footsteps; big, heavy footsteps storming down the
hall, toward Orlando. He yelled, and with grim
defiance Orli lunged into the room. But Pete was still
coming. Orli rolled around the other way, screaming in
pain, but forcing himself to do what had to be done.
He shoved his body against the door, panicking when he
saw a hand slip through the crack. Orli braced his
feet against the carpeted floor and pushed as hard as
he could, still screaming, sweat pouring down his
face.
“Orlando!” Pete’s voice boomed. “Get out of there!
Come here right now!”
“NO!!!” Orli screamed, and the door slammed shut. Orli
reached up and flipped the bolt, locking the door from
the inside with a satisfying click.
	Orlando collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming
down his face, clinging to his ribs and abdomen,
curling into a fetal position. In the darkness of the
window-less room Orli could hear Pete banging around
in the house. Orli worried about Toby, about Viggo
coming home. What would Pete do? But before he could
think of anything else Orli slipped into
unconsciousness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Viggo raced home as fast as he could, cursing and
swearing at every little-old-lady who got in his way.
Finally, his car screeched into the drive, and Viggo
bolted from the front seat, the door still open. Viggo
raced to the front door, cursing as he fought with the
many keys on his keychain. At last the right key fit
into the lock, and Viggo shoved the door open and  ran
inside.  He paused for a moment, searching. Everything
seemed in order.
“Orli?” He called.
No answer.
	Suddenly something came streaking toward Viggo’s
head, and he ducked just in time as the object brushed
past his hair. Viggo whirled around, his body rigid.
There was Pete, the man who sent Orli into fits of
terror, grinning at him. 
“You...” Pete snarled. 
“You.” Viggo said.
	Pete’s fist flew, and Viggo dodged again, grateful
for the fact that even if he was older, he was smaller
built that this man, and faster.  Another fist flew
towards him, and Viggo ducked it, but this time sent
his own fist slamming into Pete’s belly. The man let
out a grunt, but came back at Viggo with equal force,
this time landing a jab right on Viggo’s eye. Viggo
stumbled back, wavering as he tried to hold onto
conciousness. Pete came at Viggo again, fist flying.
Viggo ducked, avoiding this hit, and this time used
all his strength to ram his entire body into Pete,
sending the man flying to the floor. Pete yelled in
rage, throwing his arms out, trying to latch onto
Viggo. Instead his hands caught Viggo in the chest,
and the man went flying through the doorway into the
kitchen. Viggo’s head hit the floor hard, and his
vision blurred. Where was Orli? Was he okay? Viggo’s
time for thoughts ran out as he saw a giant form
lumbering toward him, screaming in anger. Viggo
realized his position too late. There wasn’t time for
him to react. Suddenly Viggo didn’t need to. A white
streak came flying past him, along with a loud roar.
The form hit Pete square on the chest, sending him
flying to the floor. Viggo jumped from the floor,
grateful for that giant, white, beast for once. Viggo
had to do something, he had to act quick. He did the
first thing that came to his mind. Viggo yanked open a
cabinet and reached inside. His hand found something
hard, and he snatched it up and brought it crashing
down on Pete’s head, satisfied when the man went limp.
 Viggo laughed inwardly when he realized he’d just won
a fight with a cooking pot. 
	Viggo dropped the pot, letting it clatter to the
floor. His body ached, and he was sure he’d have a
black eye in no time flat. Toby stared up at Viggo,
the white fur around his mouth stained with blood.
Viggo’s heart plummeted when he spotted Orlando’s
wheelchair on its side in the middle of the floor. 
“No.” He whispered.
	Viggo had to do something with Pete before he woke
up. He rummaged through his drawers, searching for
rope, but settled on plastic garden ties. He pulled
Pete’s hands in front of him and bound them together,
and then the man’s ankles. Praying the man wouldn’t
get away, Viggo looked around, searching for Orlando.
“Orli? Orli!?” He called through the house. 
	Viggo raced down the hall, testing the door to the
studio, glad that it was locked. He pulled out his
keys, finding his studio key on the first try.  The
door swung open, and Viggo flicked on the light. The
sight that greeted Viggo caused him to sob. 
“Orli? Orlando?” He sobbed, lifting the beautiful,
dark curls from the floor.
“Vig...go?” The soft reply came, followed by the dark
lashed fluttering open.
“Orli?” Viggo smiled. “Thank god you’re alright.”
“It hurts.” Orli whispered, unable to speak.
“I’m sorry, love.” Viggo said. “We’ll get you to the
hospital.”
	Orli nodded wearily before his eyes closed again.
Viggo lifted the still form from the ground and
carried him into the living room, placing him gently
on the couch. He picked up the phone and dialed 911.
The voice on the other end was comforting, reassuring.
Ten minutes. They would be here in ten minutes. Viggo
hung up the phone and set it on the table next to the
couch. He stared down at Orlando, who’s face was
etched in pain, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.
‘Please don’t let him be hurt.’ Viggo prayed. He
stroked his hand down Orlando’s face, noticing how it
seemed to ease the boy’s pain. 
“I love you, Orli.” He said, as Orlando sighed and
rested his face against Viggo’s palm. “I love you more
than anything in the entire world.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	As promised, the police arrived in nearly ten
minutes. Actually, eleven minutes and thirty-four
seconds, but who was counting? Viggo watched as Pete
was picked up off the floor and dragged to the waiting
squad car, as several officers patted Toby on the head
and told him “job well done” as well as suggested
remedies for Viggo’s black eye that was quickly
appearing. Once Pete was in the car, a team of
paramedics came in and lifted Orlando gently onto a
stretcher. While two men carried the stretcher outside
to the ambulance another hovered over Orli, shining a
penlight into his eyes, checking his reflexes. Orli
was pushed into the ambulance, and Viggo crawled in
after him, glad he was allowed to remain with him.
“Is he okay?” Viggo asked anyone who would listen.
	Nobody answered, they were too busy checking Orli
over. After a few more minutes Viggo asked again.
“Is he alright?”
“He’ll live if that’s what you mean.” One paramedic
with red hair said. “He’ll be okay. He needs x-rays
and then we can tell for sure what’s wrong. He hit his
head, probably falling out of the wheelchair. It looks
like he has a minor concussion, and all that moving
really hindered his ribs healing, but he’ll be okay.”
	Viggo let out a sigh of relief, but remained clinging
to Orlando’s hand. He watched as one of the paramedics
stuck an IV into Orlando’s forearm. Why did they
always put one of those in? It looked painful. 
	Finally they arrived at the hospital, and Viggo ran
along with the paramedics pushing Orlando, right into
the emergency room. A doctor came flying out a pair of
double doors, listening to what the meds had to tell
him. 
“Dr. Newman!” Viggo cried when he recognized the man’s
face.
“Mr. Mortensen. Can’t say I’m glad to see you back
here.” The doctor said, pointing the meds toward the
radiology department.
“Me either.” Viggo replied, squeezing Orlando’s hand.
	The bed stopped in a room filled with huge, towering
equipment. Viggo didn’t like the looks of that stuff.
Dr. Newman came over then, putting his hand on Viggo’s
shoulder.
“We need you to leave the room.” He said.
“Why? What are you doing? He doesn’t need an
operation, does he?” Viggo spewed out questions.
“No, none of that.” Dr. Newman said, gently pushing
Viggo out the door. “We’re just going to take some
pictures, and we don’t want any of those nasty
radiowaves getting in your healthy little body.”
	The door shut in Viggo’s face. Viggo tried to peek
inside, but the little window on the door was covered
up with something on the inside. Viggo paced a few
times, and then resigned himself to waiting room duty,
taking a seat in one of those hideously uncomfortable
chairs. Viggo picked up the nearest magazine and
flipped open a page. Well that was a sight he just
didn’t want to see, not ever again. Viggo shut the
pregnancy magazine and crossed his legs, bouncing up
and down slightly. His eyes scanned over the waiting
room, landing suddenly on a fish tank setting against
the nurses desk. It wasn’t the same one as before, but
it looked similar. Viggo’s eyes scanned the tank,
finally finding what he was looking for. A puffer
fish. This one was orange, though, and a little bigger
than Skwishy, but it swam patterns, just like the
little fish at home. Instead of circles, though, this
fish swam serpentines up and down the tank. Viggo
relaxed a little bit, watching the puffer fish swim
back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Two terrible hours later, Dr. Newman finally came out
of the back rooms, spotting Viggo and walking over.
“How is he?” Viggo asked. 
“He’s... he’s alright.” Dr. Newman said. “He’ll be
able to go home today, but he’s going to have to take
it easy. Those ribs really took a beating, it
re-damaged the ones that had already started to heal
together. Good thing his wrist was in a cast.  He
needs to get in bed and stay there. I dont’ mind if he
travels a little bit, if you’re willing to carry him
from the bed to the couch or something, but he needs
to be laying down and still.”
“That’s hard for Orlando.” Viggo smirked.
“I figured that.” Newman said.  “But he’s just going
to have to cope.”
“Thanks, doctor.” Viggo said.
“You’re more than welcome.” 
	Viggo watched the doctor leave and then turned to the
nurse’s desk, requesting the paperwork he would have
to fill out. Too much. Oh well. Viggo took the papers
and sat back down, filling out the first question.
Name, well that was easy. Orlando Bloom. This wasn’t
so bad. 
	Half an hour later Viggo handed the papers back and
waiting for the nurse’s ‘okay’ before following a
second nurse down the hall to Orli’s room. Orlando was
laying, his eyes gently shut, his head propped up on
pillows, breathing softly and evenly. Viggo entered
the room and gently took Orli’s hand in his own. The
boy’s eyes fluttered open.
“Viggo.” He whispered, as if that one word were the
most important word in the world.
“Hey love.” Viggo said softly. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“You won the fight. Seven to nothing.” Viggo joked.
“Looks like you weren’t so lucky.” Orli whispered,
reaching up slowly and touching Viggo’s eye. Viggo
winced and Orli pulled away.
“You ready to go home, Orli?” Viggo asked.
	Orlando nodded, so the nurse stepped up and pulled
his IV out, throwing away the needle, and Viggo helped
her set Orli into another wheelchair. Orli groaned in
pain when his body bent, and took a moment to settle
himself into the chair before nodding  for Viggo to go
ahead. 
	They walked from the hospital in silence, put Orli
into the car in silence, and drove home in silence.
Viggo got out of the car and walked around to the
passenger side, smiling at Orli as he sat there, car
door opened, waiting patiently.
“Why don’t I just carry you inside?” Viggo asked. “We
have a wheelchair already inside.”
	Orli grinned and nodded, trying to hold back his
cries of pain when Viggo picked him up.
“I’m sorry, love.” Viggo said, walking to the front
door. Somehow he managed to unlocked the door and get
Orli inside without jostling the boy too much. Once
inside, Viggo kicked the door shut with his toe and
set Orlando laying across the couch with an afghan
over him, handing him the remote control. Toby came
trotting in, resting his maw on Orlando’s stomach.
“Not there, Toby.” Orlando said, moving Toby’s head.
“Viggo! What’s wrong with Toby!?”
	Viggo came running in from the kitchen, holding two
sodas.
“What?”
“Blood! There’s blood all over him!” Orli screamed.
“It alright, Orli. It’s not his blood.” Viggo assured.
“Its Pete’s.”
	Viggo led Toby into the kitchen and wiped off his
face with a damp cloth, getting most of the red out of
his white fur. 
“He’s fine.” Viggo said, taking Toby back into the
living room. Orli was clicking through stations,
looking for something to watch. Viggo started to sit
down in a chair, before a soft word stopped him.
“Viggo?” Orli was looking at him with big, pleading
eyes. “Will you sit with me?”	
“Of course I will.” Viggo stood from the chair and
went to the couch, lifting Orli’s head slightly. He
weaseled his way under Orli so that the boy’s head
rested on Viggo’s lap. Orli sighed. 
“I’m sorry all this happened, Vig.” He said. “I’m
sorry it happened to you.”
“Well I’m not.” Viggo said, rubbing Orli’s shoulder.
“If all this hadn’t happened I wouldn’t have you.
Don’t feel sorry, Orli. Its over now, anyway.”
“Yeah, I know.” Orli said, sighing again. “I love you,
Viggo.”
“I love you, too, angel.” Viggo smiled, and planted a
kiss on Orlando’s forehead. “I love you, too.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


CHAPTER FIFTEEN
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Orlando’s eyes fluttered open, greeted by the morning
light that passed through the blinds on the window.
The television murmured quietly in the corner, left
forgotten on some channel that was now playing a
boring day-time talk show. Orli turned his head to the
floor, watching as Viggo’s chest rose and fell, rose
and fell beneath the thin blanket that covered him.
Toby’s huge maw lay across Viggo’s legs, the dog
letting out an occasional grunt or whine, his eyes
flickering in his dreams. Orlando watched for a long
time more, sighing in contentment. His fingers crawled
across his chest, settling on his ribs that had caused
him so much pain three weeks ago. Now there was hardly
any at all. Orlando had wanted to walk upstairs and
sleep in the bed last night, but Viggo had insisted
that he remain on the couch, where he had been for the
past three weeks. It was starting to drive Orli up the
wall. 
	Smiling, Orli pushed the blanket off his body and
gingerly stood, a wave of relief washing over him when
only a small pain went through his side, but quickly
disappeared. He let his feet fall to the floor,
curling his toes around the blue plush carpet that
covered the wood, not realizing how much he’d missed
putting his feet on this floor. Using his hands to
steady him, Orlando rose slowly from the couch,
grinning when he felt hardly any pain at all. Viggo
had kept him stuck on that sofa for far too long. Oh
well, it had all been for his own protection and
comfort. Finding he could easily stand by himself,
Orli stepped across Viggo’s legs and Toby’s head,
trying to be quiet as possible so as not to wake
either dog nor man. He tip-toed lightly into the
kitchen and opened a cabinet, searching the contents.
Ahhh, there it was. Orli reached in and pulled out the
box of Coa-coa Puffs, grinning wickedly as he poured
himself and bowl and drowned the little chocolate
balls in milk.
“And just what do you think you’re doing?” A voice
boomed from the doorway.
	Orli froze, his spoon half-way to his lips, a
solitary chocolate-ball falling over the edge and
plummeting into the milk. His eyes rose slowly to
those of his lover, an innocent smile playing on his
lips.
“Uhm...  starting the day off right?” Orli said.
	Viggo’s right eyebrow took a journey up, disappeared
under his stray locks of hair that had become
disheveled during the night.
“Yeah, right.” Viggo smirked and walked across the
room toward the cabinet Orli had just been at. “You
know those things are slowly killing you?”
“These may be slowly killing me, but that is quickly
killing you.” Orli responded, referring to Viggo’s box
of Total cereal that he was holding. “Killing you with
boredom.”
	Viggo ignored that statement and sat down at the
table, going through his ritual of pouring milk and
cereal and adding some sliced up peaches. Orlando
continued to eat his kids cereal, but was inwardly
waiting; waiting for the question he knew would come.
“How do you feel today?” Viggo asked.
	Orlando rolled his eyes and sighed.
“I feel great!” He exclaimed suddenly. “Lets do
something today!”
“Something like what?” Viggo asked.
“Like... like....” Orli was at a loss.
“Like sit at home and let me ravish you?” Viggo asked,
leaning closer to Orlando.
	A wide grin appeared on Orli’s lips.
“Yeah, that sounds great.” He said huskily, as Viggo’s
mouth found his neck and began to suck on him. “I
could definitely go for some of that.”
“Good.” Viggo said between butterfly kissed up Orli’s
face. “Because that is exactly what I intend to do.”
“I look foreword to it.” Orli mumbled, his spoon
falling from his limp hand, making a clatter on the
table and splashing little white droplets of milk on
the table and floor.
“It’s been nearly four weeks.” Viggo muttered against
Orli’s skin, his lips finding Orlando’s sweet mouth.
“Too long.” Orli said, but it was lost in Viggo’s
mouth.
“Bed.” Viggo said, and before Orlando could do
anything Viggo had lifted him from his chair and was
making his way upstairs. 
	Viggo eased Orli onto the bed, not wanting to hurt
his delicate rib cage, and carefully held himself
above the man. Orlando’s face was flushed, his cheeks
pink, his lips swollen. His auburn hair was matted and
scraggled across his head, unkept and unbrushed for a
few days atleast, and his eyes, those dark, chocolate
pools were staring up at Viggo with passion and love.
Orli’s breath was erratic and uneven, and a small
smile crept across his lips as Viggo sat and stared
down at him.
“What are you looking at?” Orli whispered.
“Damn you’re beautiful.” Was all Viggo could say, and
Orli smirked.
“As are you.” He replied, reached up and placing a
stray lock of hair behind Viggo’s ear, but it fell
back into his eyes.
“I want you...now.” Orli said after a long pause.
	Viggo nodded in response, and disappeared from the
bed for a moment. Orli whimpered, wanting the warmth
and companionship of his lover back. 
“I’m here.” Viggo assured him, crawling back onto the
bed.
“Never leave me.” Orli said, wrapping his arms around
Viggo’s shoulders.
“Never.” Viggo said, engulfing Orli’s mouth with his
own, at the same time struggling to pull Orli’s shirt
off. The shirt came over Orlando’s head easily, and
Viggo continued to kiss him madly. Somehow his own
shirt came off, and he could wait no longer. Viggo
gently stroked his finger along Orli’s abdomen, and
the lithe frame immediately was lifted from the bed.
Viggo’s fingers hooked around the sweat pants and
pulled down swiftly, exposing Orlando’s excited state.

“Now you.” Orli insisted, and Viggo had no qualms
about being rid of his own pants, which seemed to have
grown rather small suddenly.
	Orli spread his legs, inviting Viggo, nearly begging
him to enter him, to make them one. Viggo gladly
accepted, dipping his index finger into the jar of oil
and sliding it easily into Orli’s sacred entrance.
Another finger was quickly added, and Viggo gasped at
the tightness of his lover. 
“Now...” Orli gasped, and Viggo agreed, nodding his
head in answer. He quickly placed himself against
Orli, watching as the young man gasped, his body
tense. It still wasn’t natural for Orli, for someone
to take him without making him theirs, without beating
him into the mattress. 
“Sshh, love. Relax.” Viggo soothed, stroking his thumb
across Orli’s lower lip, watching as it trembled. Orli
nodded, ready for Viggo to continue, and he did. Viggo
entered slowly, holding his breath as Orli’s tight
head clamped down around him. 
“Are you alright?” Viggo asked when he was halfway in.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Orli whispered, his eyes rolling back
into his head, his knuckles white as they clenched the
sheets.
	Viggo continued, pressing his way into his lover,
gasping when at last he was fully engulfed in Orlando,
his balls pressing against Orli’s firm arse.
“God, I love you.” Viggo groaned, but Orli was
impatient. He began to move his body, gripping onto
Viggo’s shoulders and leaving deep nail prints. They
moved as one, up and down, back and forth, in and out,
all in one motion. Orli let out small, nearly
inaudible gasps, as Viggo panted heavily, both staring
deep into the other’s eyes. At last they came, both
with cries of the other’s name and of unyielding faith
and love, and collapsed into each other’s arms. 
	Viggo started to pull out of Orli, but a firm grip on
his shoulders stopped him.
“Not yet.” Orli whispered, and Viggo agreed. 
	They lay there, for who-knew-how-long. Slowly, their
breathing became normal, nearly silent, and their
cheeks turned to their normal hues. When at last Viggo
did speak, it was in a hushed whisper, instead of his
husky, guttural groan. 
“I love you.” He whispered, looking at the now resting
Orlando.
“I love you, too.” Orli said softly, his eyes gently
closed, his arms wrapped around Viggo’s middle.
“Orli?” Viggo asked hesitantly.
“Hmmmm?” Came the hushed reply.
“Will you marry me?” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*Four months later*
	Orlando and Viggo stood facing eachother, the wind
whipping their hair, the sun just peeking through the
overcast clouds. The sound of gulls calling echoed off
the craggy cliffs and the smell of saltwater filled
their nostrils. The waves rolled gently back and
forth, lapping at the sand, threatening to tickle the
men’s bare toes that were curled in the soft, warm
sand. 
	Orlando sighed. This was it. This was the day he’d
been waiting for for his entire life. He pulled his
gaze away from the blue water, letting it settle
instead on Viggo’s eyes; the same color as the ocean.
The blue orbs were filled with love, his mouth curved
into a whisper of a smile, a look of absolute joy and
contentment graced his features.
“Would you like to recite your vows?” The voice pulled
Orli out of his reverie, and he looked momentarily at
the pastor standing before them.
	Orli nodded, remembering that he would go first.
Taking in a big breath of air, Orli began.
“Viggo...” Suddenly Orli was overcome with emotion,
and he wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “Before you found
me, I would lay in bed at night, every night, every
single night, and cry, and fall asleep wishing that my
life was different. The first time I saw you, you were
nothing special to me, just another... another trick.
But I remember that night when you said you wanted to
spend time with me. Nobody had ever wanted to be
around me without wanting something in return. There
was something different about you, and I saw it that
night, and gave it a chance, and somehow, I ended up
here, standing in front of you, and all I can think
about is how much I love you and want to be with you.
Through all those hard times I went through, when all
I wanted is for it to end, you were the reason I kept
fighting, because I knew that if I could just get past
the hard stuff, you would be there waiting for me. You
were my hope, Viggo, and I can’t believe I found you. 
I love you.”
	Orlando could hardly speak the last words, his throat
was choked with sobs. After a moment he regained his
composure, and smiled at Viggo through his last tears.
	Viggo smiled back at Orli, letting him know that he
was ready whenever Orli was. Orli’s vow had moved him,
but he had never really been a crier, not until now.
Now he had only managed to hold back the torrents, but
a few tears had leaked through.
“Orlando... Orli... For the longest time my life was a
big black hole. There was nothing in this world that
held my interest, nothing that would make me truly
happy, until I found you. When I look at you, I see
this incredible gleam of hope. I used to think my life
was hard, until I met you. But even through all those
hard times you had, and when everything and everyone
around you belittled you and pushed you down, somehow
you found the strength to fight back, and  stand there
in front of your enemy with a huge smile. You always
had hope, you always held on. You have this incredible
happiness around you, this inner glow, like a little
candle that no one can put out, and the more they try,
the bigger that candle’s flame gets. You’re so
beautiful, Orlando, inside and out, and I love you
more than anything in the world.”
	Tears streamed down Orlando’s face, and he couldn’t
say anything. He was totally speechless. He opened his
mouth, but his words were choked by a new sob, and he
laughed at himself for his seemingly girlish reaction
to Viggo’s words. He looked over at the people who
were watching, just the few who had been invited-
Henry, Exene, Dale (Viggo’s best friend from work),
Toby (who sat at Henry’s feet, a big dog-ish grin on
his face), and there, sitting in a chair, wiping her
aging eyes, was Orlando’s mother. Orli grinned at her,
wiping his own tears from his cheeks.  I love you,
Orli’s mother mouthed, and Orli mouthed the same thing
back to her. He hadn’t spoken to her in years, sinse
he’d moved to the United States, he hadn’t even known
if she still was alive. But Viggo wanted Orlando to
have someone there for him, and he had wanted
Orlando’s mother. The wonderful man had hired a
private detective to search for Annette Bloom, and
they hadn’t had a hard time finding her.
	Now Orlando turned back to Viggo, who had taken
Orli’s hand and was producing something from his
tuxedo pocket. Orlando couldn’t wait. Viggo had wanted
to choose the rings, as a surprise, and he hadn’t let
Orli see them. Viggo’s hand came up to Orlando’s
outstretched fingers, and eased something cool and
smooth onto his left ring finger. 
“With this ring, I thee wed.” Viggo said softly, and
moved his hand so that Orlando could see the ring.
	Orli gasped. It was stunning! The ring was a smooth,
silver band, with a tiny, red fish on the top. The
fish’s fins were waving, and it looked like it was
actually swimming. It was simple, but gorgeous. 
	Orli reached inside his pocket, where Viggo’s ring
rested. Viggo had put it there just before the
wedding, forcing Orli to swear he wouldn’t look at it.
Now Orli glanced at the ring before he slid it on
Viggo’s finger. It too, had a red fish on it, and Orli
had to laugh. 
“With this ring, I thee wed.” He said aloud, and then
laughed again. “A fish?” He asked quietly as he slid
the ring onto Viggo’s finger.
“It’s not just a fish.” Viggo said. “Its a koi.”
	Orli cocked his head at Viggo in question.
“A koi is a type of Japanese goldfish. In Japanese
culture they are highly prized, and very beloved.”
Viggo explained. “In Japanese the word “koi” means
“beloved. That’s why the fish is there.”
	Orli nodded and tried to hold back a tear. 
“You are wed.” The pastor announced. “You may kiss
your husband.”
	With that Viggo wrapped his strong hand around the
back of Orli’s neck and pulled the young man in close,
pressing his lips to Orlando’s waiting ones. Orli
smiled into Viggo’s mouth. He couldn’t believe this
was real, he couldn’t believe he was now Orlando
Mortensen-Bloom. Viggo’s tongue lapped at Orlando’s
one last time before Viggo pulled away, and he took
Orli’s hand in his own. Together, they turned to face
the small crowd, most of whom were crying, and took a
few steps toward them, hugging everyone and receiving
congratulations. Viggo grinned as Henry approached
Orlando. At first Orlando held back, a little unsure
of what to do, but Henry answered his question as he
flung his arms around Orli and pulled him into a huge
embrace.
“Welcome to the family, Orlando.” Henry said, and Orli
broke into a huge grin.
	Viggo suddenly decided that was enough. He couldn’t
wait to spend some time with his new husband, and he
eagerly grabbed Orlando’s hand and pulled him away
from the crows.
“Thank you everyone, we’ll be seeing you in an hour at
Exene’s house!” Viggo cried, and Orli wondered what
Viggo had planned as he waved at a man standing up the
beach. The man disappeared for a moment behind a large
brush and reappeared with something that made Orlando
gasp. Standing there was a huge, white horse, tossing
his head, his wild mane and tail flying furiously in
the sea wind. 
“Come on, love.” Viggo said, pulling Orlando toward
the horse. Viggo climbed onto the mount and offered
his hand. Orlando eagerly took it and grinned as Viggo
pulled him up behind him. Orlando settled himself onto
the soft, white, rump and wrapped his arms around
Viggo’s waste, burying his face in Viggo’s neck. He
looked back one time at the guests- no, not guests,
family- who were still talking, and smiled, before
Viggo nudged the horse with his heels and together he
and Viggo galloped down the beach, hair flying in the
wind, the sea churning beneath their feet, and love
emanating all around them. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
EPILOGUE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	Life is perfect. I used to think that the entire
world was out to get me, that everyone around me was
thinking thoughts about ways to hurt me, to cause me
pain. Living in the dregs of society, in the “bad”
part of L.A. I was forced to do anything to survive,
to stay alive. There were times, plenty of them, when
I wanted to curl up into a ball and never open my eyes
again, so that I would never have to witness the
horrors of the world. But  eventually I learned that
no matter what happened t