City of London, Part 13.
Oct. 1st, 2005 10:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seethingheathenTitle: City of London
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
limeysugar.
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Elijah Wood
Rating: PG-13 for language and innuendo.
Disclaimer: Not true. Fiction.
Author's Notes I: SQUICK ALERT! In the UK, the age of consent is 16. This story takes place in the last year of school for the boys (who in the series are the same age.), which makes them 17, almost 18. I am well aware that some people will not read anything wherein the characters are under the age of 18, hence the warning. There will be no descriptive sex, just angst, innuendo, and salty language. If this bothers you, don't read it. Simple as that.
Author's Notes II: Heavily inspired by the recent AU school fics bymarrymemerry and deleerium, and by the film Get Real. If you haven't seen it, do.
Read the first twelve parts.
“The only one who’s forgotten anything is you,” Elijah pushed. “Jesus, I feel like I’m in an episode of Dawson’s Creek. Look, talk to him. Go to his house.”
“Go to his house? Are you fucking kidding me?” The halls were starting to fill, and Dom dropped his voice. “I can’t do that.”
“You can. No one has to know about it but you and him. I’m not going to tell anyone, if that’s what you think. I’m not setting you up for anything. But he carries your picture in his wallet, for fuck sake.”
“I- you- I have to go. Just don’t mention this little exchange to anyone, or it’s your head in the toilet.”
“Yeah, okay.” Elijah watched Dom walk to the end of the hall where Nick Spencer was standing. Maybe, just maybe, he’d gotten through to him in some small way. And he wasn’t sure whether to be glad of that or not.
**
“What the fucking hell did you do?” Elijah had to pull the phone away from his ear, Orlando was yelling so loudly. “You’re not meant to- Christ. He was here. Dommie was here.”
Dommie. Not Dom or Dominic, but Dommie.
“He was here and he said you sent him. What are you doing to me?”
‘I’m trying to help you,’ Elijah wanted to say. Instead, he hung up the phone and went and sat on his bed. He knew Orlando wouldn’t ring back.
**
It was Elijah’s turn to miss school on Friday. He told Mrs Watson he was ill, and she kept him in bed with tea all day. Every time the phone rang, his stomach sank and he waited for Mrs Watson to come in and tell him it was Orlando wanting to talk to him. The one time she did, he pretended to be asleep, and she went out without trying to wake him.
It was nearly five in the evening when Elijah got out of bed and went into the kitchen. There was a note on the table telling him that Mrs Watson had gone to the neighbour’s, and that Orlando had rung to say he’d be coming round at six. She had told him Elijah was in bed ill, but the door key would be in the flowerpot on the stoop just for him.
‘Who does that?’ Elijah thought, and debated removing it before Orlando got there. He wanted to be upset, but he knew Mrs Watson would have no idea he was avoiding Orlando, or even why. He got a drink of water, and went back to his room.
**
At ten past six, Elijah heard the click of the doorknob turning. He shut his eyes and tried to even out his breathing so Orlando would think he was asleep.
“I know you’re awake, bastard. And I know you’re not sick.” Orlando sat on the foot of Elijah’s bed and toed off his trainers. “Skiving off is my trick, remember?”
“Ugh.”
“On second thought, maybe you are ill. Mentally. Now move over.” Elijah moved against the wall so Orlando could lie next to him in the bed. “You’re a strange little man, Sherm.”
“I guess you’d know.”
“Why did you do it? I thought we had it sorted, me and you.”
“He- okay, look. He was waiting for me the other day, and he had the fucking balls to ask me if I cared about you. You want to see a strange little man, you should look at him. One minute he’s talking about how great it would be to kick your dick in up to your shoulder blades, and the next he’s saying that you’re his property and all that shit.” Elijah shifted so he was looking at Orly instead of the ceiling. “And I said he should go talk to you.”
“Fair enough. Warn a bloke next time, yeah? It’s not an exaggeration to say I nearly pissed myself when he rang the bell.” The corners of Orlando’s mouth turned up in a smirk. “Aren’t you even going to ask what happened?”
“No.”
“I’m going to tell you anyway. He apologised. Fucking well apologised!”
“Good.”
“Told him to fuck right off.” Orlando’s smirk became a grin. “And I slammed the door in his face. Felt good, but I tell you what- I know I’ll end up paying for it sooner or later.”
“You almost sound happy about that.”
“I am! Well, no, not really happy, but something better than miserable.”
“Less than miserable is a start, I guess.” At least it was progress. Maybe. But in which direction, Elijah wasn’t certain.
“I know! So, how much time do you think we’ve got before your Gran comes back?”
“She’s not my- whatever. But she’ll be out late, I think, since it’s Friday and she went to play cards.”
“Good, because if you thought I came round to talk about Dominic, you’ve got another think coming.”
**
Elijah’s mum had rung on Sunday morning, beside herself with worry that her son had not bothered to phone her in over a week. Elijah only listened to her half-heartedly, muttering reassuring sounds every few words for good measure. Is he keeping up with his homework? Is he making friends? Does he have a girlfriend yet? He lied and said he’d been seeing a school mate’s sister.
“Oh, that’s nice! What’s her name?” The relief in her voice was tangible, and Elijah almost felt bad for lying.
“Uh, Samantha. She’s Orly’s sister.”
“Orly?”
“Orlando. Friend from school. We were out when you called the other-”
“And you’re seeing his sister?” Emphasis on sister. Elijah could imagine Debbie’s eyebrows raising.
“Yeah, Mom. Samantha. Cute. Pretty brown eyes, soft curly hair.” His mother didn’t have to know he was describing Orlando. “You’d like, uh, her.”
“I shouldn’t have let you go to that boys’ school. Should have kept you here.”
“I said I was seeing a friend’s sister, okay? I don’t have time to go out and meet girls. And I have a bunch of homework, so I have to go. I’ll call you sometime this week.”
“Fine. I love you. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Love you too. And tell Hannah I said hi.” Elijah hung up the phone and stared at it for a full minute before walking away. He felt sick at the thought of lying to his mum, even if she did know the truth anyway. Maybe that’s what made it so bad.
**
The face that stared at Elijah in the mirror didn‘t look like his. There were bags under the eyes and a sharp red line across the cheek where the crease of a pillow had been pressed for too long. Barely visible, just below the left ear, was a faint reddish-purple mark. Orlando had left that on Friday night, in his zeal to prove to Elijah that he was really over Dominic.
“You are so fucked,” he said to not-his face. “And you’re making a habit of talking to yourself in the bathroom. I guess when you start answering back, I should get worried.”
**
On lunch Monday, the sky was grey and heavy, and the pavement was wet from the morning rain. Orlando sat munching on the last bite of his sandwich, and Elijah watched the way the little muscle on the side of his head moved when he chewed.
“Sherm?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re giving me the willies.”
“You’re cute.”
“Shut. Up.” Orlando crumpled up his paper napkin and threw it at Elijah’s head. “Blokes don’t go telling other blokes they’re cute.”
“I meant that in the most manly way possible.”
“Okay, then you’re cute too. In the most manly way possible, of course. Only shorter. Much shorter. And maybe not in the most manly way, after all. A bit girly, really.”
“Dick. So, you on for tonight?” Elijah tossed the napkin back.
“Can’t. I should have told you before, but Dom rang Saturday, and he’s coming round after school.”
“Oh.” There wasn’t anything else to say, and Elijah stood and walked to the bin to deposit the remnants of his lunch.
“I know I’ll regret it, but I want to hear what he has to say. Besides that, you’re the one who encouraged him, remember?”
“Yeah, I know. And I’m glad, but what happened to slamming the door and feeling less miserable?”
“I need to do this. Really. It’s not as though he’s coming for a shag.”
Elijah nodded and turned to walk back into the school for his afternoon classes. He didn’t wait for Orlando to follow.
Go to Part Fourteen.
Author:
limeysugar.Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Elijah Wood
Rating: PG-13 for language and innuendo.
Disclaimer: Not true. Fiction.
Author's Notes I: SQUICK ALERT! In the UK, the age of consent is 16. This story takes place in the last year of school for the boys (who in the series are the same age.), which makes them 17, almost 18. I am well aware that some people will not read anything wherein the characters are under the age of 18, hence the warning. There will be no descriptive sex, just angst, innuendo, and salty language. If this bothers you, don't read it. Simple as that.
Author's Notes II: Heavily inspired by the recent AU school fics by
marrymemerry and deleerium, and by the film Get Real. If you haven't seen it, do.Read the first twelve parts.
“The only one who’s forgotten anything is you,” Elijah pushed. “Jesus, I feel like I’m in an episode of Dawson’s Creek. Look, talk to him. Go to his house.”
“Go to his house? Are you fucking kidding me?” The halls were starting to fill, and Dom dropped his voice. “I can’t do that.”
“You can. No one has to know about it but you and him. I’m not going to tell anyone, if that’s what you think. I’m not setting you up for anything. But he carries your picture in his wallet, for fuck sake.”
“I- you- I have to go. Just don’t mention this little exchange to anyone, or it’s your head in the toilet.”
“Yeah, okay.” Elijah watched Dom walk to the end of the hall where Nick Spencer was standing. Maybe, just maybe, he’d gotten through to him in some small way. And he wasn’t sure whether to be glad of that or not.
**
“What the fucking hell did you do?” Elijah had to pull the phone away from his ear, Orlando was yelling so loudly. “You’re not meant to- Christ. He was here. Dommie was here.”
Dommie. Not Dom or Dominic, but Dommie.
“He was here and he said you sent him. What are you doing to me?”
‘I’m trying to help you,’ Elijah wanted to say. Instead, he hung up the phone and went and sat on his bed. He knew Orlando wouldn’t ring back.
**
It was Elijah’s turn to miss school on Friday. He told Mrs Watson he was ill, and she kept him in bed with tea all day. Every time the phone rang, his stomach sank and he waited for Mrs Watson to come in and tell him it was Orlando wanting to talk to him. The one time she did, he pretended to be asleep, and she went out without trying to wake him.
It was nearly five in the evening when Elijah got out of bed and went into the kitchen. There was a note on the table telling him that Mrs Watson had gone to the neighbour’s, and that Orlando had rung to say he’d be coming round at six. She had told him Elijah was in bed ill, but the door key would be in the flowerpot on the stoop just for him.
‘Who does that?’ Elijah thought, and debated removing it before Orlando got there. He wanted to be upset, but he knew Mrs Watson would have no idea he was avoiding Orlando, or even why. He got a drink of water, and went back to his room.
**
At ten past six, Elijah heard the click of the doorknob turning. He shut his eyes and tried to even out his breathing so Orlando would think he was asleep.
“I know you’re awake, bastard. And I know you’re not sick.” Orlando sat on the foot of Elijah’s bed and toed off his trainers. “Skiving off is my trick, remember?”
“Ugh.”
“On second thought, maybe you are ill. Mentally. Now move over.” Elijah moved against the wall so Orlando could lie next to him in the bed. “You’re a strange little man, Sherm.”
“I guess you’d know.”
“Why did you do it? I thought we had it sorted, me and you.”
“He- okay, look. He was waiting for me the other day, and he had the fucking balls to ask me if I cared about you. You want to see a strange little man, you should look at him. One minute he’s talking about how great it would be to kick your dick in up to your shoulder blades, and the next he’s saying that you’re his property and all that shit.” Elijah shifted so he was looking at Orly instead of the ceiling. “And I said he should go talk to you.”
“Fair enough. Warn a bloke next time, yeah? It’s not an exaggeration to say I nearly pissed myself when he rang the bell.” The corners of Orlando’s mouth turned up in a smirk. “Aren’t you even going to ask what happened?”
“No.”
“I’m going to tell you anyway. He apologised. Fucking well apologised!”
“Good.”
“Told him to fuck right off.” Orlando’s smirk became a grin. “And I slammed the door in his face. Felt good, but I tell you what- I know I’ll end up paying for it sooner or later.”
“You almost sound happy about that.”
“I am! Well, no, not really happy, but something better than miserable.”
“Less than miserable is a start, I guess.” At least it was progress. Maybe. But in which direction, Elijah wasn’t certain.
“I know! So, how much time do you think we’ve got before your Gran comes back?”
“She’s not my- whatever. But she’ll be out late, I think, since it’s Friday and she went to play cards.”
“Good, because if you thought I came round to talk about Dominic, you’ve got another think coming.”
**
Elijah’s mum had rung on Sunday morning, beside herself with worry that her son had not bothered to phone her in over a week. Elijah only listened to her half-heartedly, muttering reassuring sounds every few words for good measure. Is he keeping up with his homework? Is he making friends? Does he have a girlfriend yet? He lied and said he’d been seeing a school mate’s sister.
“Oh, that’s nice! What’s her name?” The relief in her voice was tangible, and Elijah almost felt bad for lying.
“Uh, Samantha. She’s Orly’s sister.”
“Orly?”
“Orlando. Friend from school. We were out when you called the other-”
“And you’re seeing his sister?” Emphasis on sister. Elijah could imagine Debbie’s eyebrows raising.
“Yeah, Mom. Samantha. Cute. Pretty brown eyes, soft curly hair.” His mother didn’t have to know he was describing Orlando. “You’d like, uh, her.”
“I shouldn’t have let you go to that boys’ school. Should have kept you here.”
“I said I was seeing a friend’s sister, okay? I don’t have time to go out and meet girls. And I have a bunch of homework, so I have to go. I’ll call you sometime this week.”
“Fine. I love you. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Love you too. And tell Hannah I said hi.” Elijah hung up the phone and stared at it for a full minute before walking away. He felt sick at the thought of lying to his mum, even if she did know the truth anyway. Maybe that’s what made it so bad.
**
The face that stared at Elijah in the mirror didn‘t look like his. There were bags under the eyes and a sharp red line across the cheek where the crease of a pillow had been pressed for too long. Barely visible, just below the left ear, was a faint reddish-purple mark. Orlando had left that on Friday night, in his zeal to prove to Elijah that he was really over Dominic.
“You are so fucked,” he said to not-his face. “And you’re making a habit of talking to yourself in the bathroom. I guess when you start answering back, I should get worried.”
**
On lunch Monday, the sky was grey and heavy, and the pavement was wet from the morning rain. Orlando sat munching on the last bite of his sandwich, and Elijah watched the way the little muscle on the side of his head moved when he chewed.
“Sherm?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re giving me the willies.”
“You’re cute.”
“Shut. Up.” Orlando crumpled up his paper napkin and threw it at Elijah’s head. “Blokes don’t go telling other blokes they’re cute.”
“I meant that in the most manly way possible.”
“Okay, then you’re cute too. In the most manly way possible, of course. Only shorter. Much shorter. And maybe not in the most manly way, after all. A bit girly, really.”
“Dick. So, you on for tonight?” Elijah tossed the napkin back.
“Can’t. I should have told you before, but Dom rang Saturday, and he’s coming round after school.”
“Oh.” There wasn’t anything else to say, and Elijah stood and walked to the bin to deposit the remnants of his lunch.
“I know I’ll regret it, but I want to hear what he has to say. Besides that, you’re the one who encouraged him, remember?”
“Yeah, I know. And I’m glad, but what happened to slamming the door and feeling less miserable?”
“I need to do this. Really. It’s not as though he’s coming for a shag.”
Elijah nodded and turned to walk back into the school for his afternoon classes. He didn’t wait for Orlando to follow.
Go to Part Fourteen.
