Title: Death Does Not Become Him
Warnings: supernatural. minor character death, talk of death, language, VERY DARK HUMOR
Summary: What if there were people who could see how, what of and when a person will die? What if one of those people was Orlando? And how does Sean fit into all this?
Disclaimer: None of this is true. I don't own the guys. And it still remains to be seen if I'll hire my jailbird cook back...
Author's Note: unbeta'd cuz I figured you guys would want this chapter soon. *whistles innocently* Also, Shia is the kid from The Transformers movie.
Chapter 1, 2, and 3 - wherein Orlando is at the diner
Chapter 4 - wherein Viggo diaglogues with Orlando
Chapter 5 - wherein Sean makes dinner for Orlando
Chapter 6 - wherein Orlando takes a little ride
Orlando closed his eyes and opened them again, just in case it was all a dream.
His bike was still gone.
If he thought it would actually work, he would try that improbable trick again but he didn't because he really didn't have time for such silly games.
And in the space of time, a few minutes really, since he ran down to the garage and now, the same question kept running on repeat through his head.
How was he going to get to Sean on time?
There was a pit of dread starting to form in the pit of his stomach but he had to squelch it down because he didn't have time to freak out either.
The frantic young man spun around the garage, trying to see if an answer would miraculously appear. Sadly, none was forthcoming.
He could call for a cab, one of the two stationed in all of Los Angeles, but it would take about half an hour to get here.
He could call Viggo, but by the time the older man would get to the garage, it would be too late.
He needed a ride and he needed it now.
Now, as in five minutes ago.
Orlando looked at all the cars around him. He could run back into the office and ask someone nicely if he could borrow their car. And if none of his co-workers were willing, he could sneak someone's keys out of their purse and 'commandeer' their vehicle.
And do some major time for grand theft auto.
Of course, at that moment, that possibility didn't worry him as much as the thought of Sean surprising his attacker and it's grisly outcome.
Orlando ran to the elevator, the resignation clear that his only hope was to convince someone feeling in a charitable mood that he needed their car. It was just as he was about to enter the lift that one of the new drivers happened to be exiting.
"Hey Orli," the young man waved.
Why should he take the extra time to go upstairs when he had a perfectly good ride right here. After all, he was a delivery driver.
"Shane!" Orlando yelled, startling the man.
"It's Shia. Why doesn't anyone ever get it right?" the young man frowned.
"You're just the person I need right now," Orlando quickly panted out.
"Hey whoa!" Shia said as he put his hands in the air. "I'm flattered but...but..."
"Listen, are you going out right now?" Orlando's frenzied mind spat out.
"You mean, am I seeing someone?" the young man asked in confusion. "I'm not seeing someone...but I still don't...um..."
"Oh would you leave off that! Are you going out now? On a delivery. I mean I know it's late..."
"Oh! Um yeah. This just came in," he said as he waved a package in the air. "I have to get it there in half an hour," Shia smiled and started walking toward where the trucks were parked behind the wire fenced in area, whistling as he did so.
"Good," Orlando said as he followed closely behind the other man.
"Um, dude. What's up? This is a restricted area," he said, as he pointed to a sign which read RESTRICTED AREA.
"I need you to deliver something else."
"Oh. Why didn't you just say that in the first place? Where is it?" Shia asked as he looked around Orlando's personage.
"Me. You need to deliver me," Orlando nodded, "to the Los Feliz area...by the zoo."
"Oh, hey. That's not such a good idea," the man said slowly, backing away. "We could get into so much trouble..."
"Like I give a fuck!" Orlando yelled in frustration, his arms waving erratically in the air.
"Hey man, you need to chill, seriously Orli. I can't," Shia said as he shook his head apologetically.
As both men reached Shia's truck, Orlando peered inside. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for. Something that could be used as a makeshift weapon possibly, because he would use one if he had to.
This driver was going to take him where he needed to go and he wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer.
It was rather ironic, he thought, that he would be willing to use a weapon in order to save Sean from a man who brought this all on by using a weapon himself.
"Look Shia. I don't care what'll happen. I need to get there...look if the ruddy suits ask, I'll take the heat, yeah?" Orlando reasoned, one hand on his chest in a gesture of good faith.
"I said no. Now outta my way," Shia said as he tried to push past the desperate man, Orlando not budging. "Dude, this isn't funny anymore."
Orlando peered once more inside and saw something on the dash board. He reached in and grabbed the item.
"Hey, now wh...what are you doing?" Shia asked nervously. "No Orli, now put that down. Just put it down." The young man made hand gestures to try to get Orlando to calm down.
"Don't make me do it man," Orlando said as he held the item out at arm's length, a look of pure determination written on his face.
"Orli...Orli...think about this man," Shia said, his voice trembling. "Put Megatron down. We can talk about this, okay? Amigo to amigo. Come on man. I paid a shitload for that on ebay."
"No, don't come any closer," Orlando said as he started to twist the head off the toy.
"Don't!" Shia yelled. "Don't," he repeated while running his hands through his hair. "Okay, we can talk about this, okay? You want something? I'll get you whatever you want, let's just be real calm about this. Women? You want women...a...a woman?"
"I'm a fucking fag!" Orlando yelled. "What would I want with a ruddy female?! I want a fucking ride!"
"Okay...okay...I'm sorry. I'm just scared. This being my, you know...first hy...hyjacking situation. I don't remember what the Fed-Ex manual said about this. Besides I couldn't get you any women. I mean...look...look at me," he said as he pointed to himself. "I can't even negotiate properly."
"Oh! For fuck's sake. Now I'm getting in the bloody truck and you're going to take me where I need to go...now!" Orlando yelled boldly, making his point by starting to twist the head off the toy.
"Look," Shia said as he held up his hands, "it's cool. It's cool. I'm getting in the truck, okay? See?" Shia made his way to the driver's side door, warily watching Orlando as the man made his way around the truck to the other side, opening the door and carefully seating himself into the passenger side.
"Keep your hands on the wheel," Orlando instructed, "where I can see them at all times," the frantic man's eyes on the driver as he leveled his gaze at him.
"Well," Shia nodded, "that won't...won't exactly be a problem...cuz you know...I have to drive the truck...and...all," Shia laughed nervously and started the vehicle, pulling out of the parking space and into the garage driveway that would lead them outside. "You should...you know...buckle up." Shia laughed while muttering under his breath, "I'm concerned about the safety of my kidnapper. The effects of the the Stockholm Syndrome must be settling in."
Orlando watched out the windshield as Shia drove along the surface streets, giving directions to the young man as needed. He was silently wondering how his life came to this point.
The point where he held a toy made in Taiwan hostage and hyjacking a Fed-Ex truck so he could save his new lover from his fate.
He wondered if he was going to cause Shia, an innocent bystander in all this, some sort of lingering trauma by employing his terrorist tactics.
As they neared the Los Feliz area, Orlando began to navigate more precise instructions to the driver around the smaller streets until they reached a house that Orlando knew. The last time he had seen the dwelling, it had been at night, the colors of the house seeming less brass in the twilight. But now, in the harsh light of day, the colors were more stark and almost surreal.
He couldn't tell if it was the contrast of the sand colored home in the glaring sunlight or his own fear that made things appear all too white.
After all, he was about to confront an intruder in Sean's home armed with nothing but his wits.
And a toy, which in actual fact he wouldn't have as he was going to hand said toy back to Shia as soon as he exited the truck. So he wouldn't even have that in his defense.
As the vehicle pulled into the driveway, Orlando was able to calm his racing heart down and he felt the first stirrings of relief as he noticed something.
Sean's vehicle was not in said driveway.
He had beat his lover home and with time to spare.
"What's this?" Shia asked. "Where...where are we? This where you needed to go? What's so important about here?"
"It's a matter of life and death," Orlando said as he looked at the stunned driver.
"Um...okay," Shia said back. "Can I...um...have Megatron back now?"
Orlando handed the toy back and then took a deep breath in and let it out quickly. He could tell Shia to call 911 because there was a robbery in progress, but he wasn't sure that there was one as of yet or if there would even be one if it was today and suddenly Orlando started to wonder if he even thought this whole thing through. Besides, how would he explain to his helpless driver to call about a robbery in progress when he hadn't even entered the house as of yet. "I need to go inside. You wait here."
"Look man, I got you where you wanted to go. I need to deliver this package," Shia pointed to the cargo area in back.
"Wait here!" Orlando's voice barked out.
"I have Megatron," Shia said as he held the toy up and smiled. "You lost your bargaining chip."
Orlando rubbed at his temple and sighed. "Look. I'll pay double whatever you paid for the bloody toy. Yeah? Just...just wait here, yeah?"
"You're serious? What? Really?" Shia looked at Orlando. "Alright," he shrugged and sat back in the seat.
Orlando looked at himself in the rear view mirror, chuckled to himself and exited the truck. He made his way to the back of the house slowly.
So now that he was here, what was he going to do?
He was about to face an armed man, that is if said man in question was even here.
And what if he was the one to get riddled with bullets?
At least it wouldn't be Sean.
Because the thought of Sean and the vision that ran over and over again in his head was not acceptable.
Orlando peered through the kitchen door's window. He couldn't see anything and rested his hand atop the door handle.
Which caused the door to push slightly forward.
Which is not what a normal working doorknob is wont to do.
Looking down at the knob, he noticed the lock had been carefully taken out of the middle.
Whoever this guy was, and Orlando knew at this point that there was a guy in there because the lock had been fine the other night, he was not an amateur.
Slowly, he pushed the door open.
Orlando glanced around the kitchen, noticing the pots and pans that had been washed and left to dry on the counter. They were the same ones from the night of their dinner. They had never even gotten to the first course and had dove straight into dessert.
This brought a faint smile to Orlando's lips as he remembered. He even noticed the little canister on the floor, all its contents spilled out. It had been knocked over when Orlando had been slammed against the wall by Sean's sheer force.
Orlando silently crept across the floor of the kitchen, silently praying the floor boards would not creak and give his position away.
And then it hit Orlando all of a sudden.
He was not alone in the house.
He was here.
Some strange man. A man with a 9mm automatic.
And an itchy trigger finger.
Orlando made his way into the hallway that separated the kitchen from the living room, once again willing the floor boards to not alert anyone to his presence.
He rounded the corner and took in the living room.
Further evidence of the cleaning lady's visit could be seen in the neat and tidy room.
It basically looked the same as the night he had arrived, except of course, for the strange blond man standing in the middle of the room.
Orlando looked at the man's rigid stance. He could clearly see both hands held out, looking at something on the mantel.
There was no gun in either hand.
Orlando had the upper hand here. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.
He had the advantage of the element of surprise.
He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, all done quietly so as to not alert the intruder to his presence.
He could do this.
Viggo always said if you wanted to act a certain way, you needed to think of yourself as the personification of that.
He needed to be cool. He needed to stay frosty.
He needed to personify stealth and quiet.
He was stealth and quiet.
Stealth and quiet wrote to him for advice.
He was Qui-fucking-Jin for fuck's sake.
And with that, Orlando ran forward, yelled a loud, piercing war cry and jumped on the rather broad man's back.
Okay, quiet and stealthy man he wasn't.
Once he had jumped on the stranger's back, the force of it had knocked both men to the floor quickly. It took a moment for Orlando to realize that his prey was flat on his stomach while he straddled the back of his legs. The man had managed to gain leverage and was trying to turn Orlando over onto his own back.
"No you don't!" Orlando yelled at the man, reasserting his weight once more.
A loud "oomph!" could be heard coming from below.
There was another moment of silence before the body beneath him spoke.
"You're not the one who lives here. Who're you?" the man said, his voice rasping out as he was held motionless on the floor.
"Just someone protecting what's his, arsehole!" and with that Orlando applied more pressure to the man's back, another "oomph!" escaping the trapped man's mouth.
"Would you fucking stop doing that!" his captive yelled breathlessly.
There was another moment of quiet and the man spoke again.
"So now that you have me, what do you plan on doing?" he laughed and the action made him cough.
"Haven't thought that far yet," Orlando said, slightly panicky.
Orlando looked around him for something, anything, to possibly tie the man's hands and feet but there was nothing within his reach.
"Can't get up, can you?" came the teasing voice below.
"I'll just bloody sit here. I've got no where else better to be," Orlando said.
"So who are you? One of his faggot friends?"
Orlando ground his body more solidly into the man's back, eliciting another "oomph!"
"Oh, now you're just making me hot," the man said and before Orlando knew what was happening, his captive managed to pull his full weight up off the floor and throw Orlando to the side. Orlando quickly gained his bearing and noticed the gun stashed just inside the man's belt. Before the man could reach for his gun, Orlando grabbed it and held it out in front of him, pointing the weapon's business end at the man's face.
"You gonna shoot me boy?" the man smiled.
"Maybe," Orlando said, his breathing quickening as he realized the full implication of what he was doing.
He had someone's gun and was aiming it at another person.
With the full intention of shooting them.
"Maybe I won't shoot you. Maybe I just want to hold the gun here, so you can't use it until the police come," Orlando shrugged.
"There's just one problem with that," his tormentor smiled wickedly.
Orlando cocked his head to the side and looked at the other man. What could possibly be the problem? He had the gun.
And just as quick as before, the man reached over and grabbed the gun out of Orlando's hands, swiping the younger man's knees out from under him, while pinning the younger man to the floor beneath him. "You see," he said as he held the gun up, "the safety was on so even if you accidentally wanted to shoot me, you couldn't. See? White, safety on, red, safety off, white, on, red, off. On. Off. On. Off," the man said as he flipped the little black switch back and forth, taunting Orlando with his lack of firearm knowledge. The switch landed in the red position, meaning the safety was now indeed off.
"Would you stop that?" Orlando yelled.
"Whassa matter buttercup? I make you nervous?" the man laughed. "You should be," he said as he held the gun and pointed it point blank at Orlando.
But this couldn't be the end.
He remembered. He had looked in the rearview mirror of the Fed Ex truck.
And yet, here he was.
Was this just cruel irony?
The one time he was wrong about anyone's demise it would have to be his own.
The worst part of this whole ordeal, despite his own impending doom, was what would happen to Sean when he came home.
Orlando was quickly snatched out of his gloomy thoughts when the man above him straddled his legs and ground down into his groin.
Or maybe the man didn't plan on killing him just yet.
"So I figure I got time," his attacker leered.
"Time? What?" Orlando asked perplexed. Wouldn't he just want to kill him, get his 'loot' and get out the fuck out of there?
"Maybe we could have a little fun," the man goaded, waving the gun in Orlando's face while reaching down toward the buttons on his jeans.
So this was how it was to be.
"I thought you weren't a faggot, isn't that what you called me?" Orlando sneered.
"Yeah, I'm not. Just an asshole," he shrugged as he now reached down toward's Orlando's fly. "First off," the man said as he switched the catch on the gun to white, "don't want to accidentally shoot my own pecker off."
"It's probably a small target so I wouldn't worry, yeah?" Orlando smirked.
"We're gonna establish some rules," the man breathed out as he leaned over very closely to Orlando's face, incensed by the younger man's last comment. "Wanna know the first rule?"
"Yeah," Orlando said, "never talk about fight club!" And with that, Orlando brought his head up quickly, using the hardest part of his head to butt foreheads with the man above him, knocking the man backwards with the force.
He had learned that trick from a Maori named Sala who had fucked him three ways from Sunday when he had been visiting New Zealand.
While the man reeled back from the force of the blow, Orlando quickly got into a hands and knees position and at breakneck speed, kicked his leg out, hitting the stunned man in the face three times in rapid succession.
He had learned that trick from a kick boxer from Belgium who had given him the most incredible rim job.
Orlando threw an uppercut to the man's jaw, making his head bounce back. Blood and what looked like teeth flew out of his attacker's mouth.
That trick he had learned from a milkman named Jimmy back in London who wanted to be a boxer and who he had sixty-nined with for over an hour.
Once the man's head snapped back, Orlando quickly grabbed the man's arm, spun him around and put him in a choke-hold, cutting off air to his windpipe.
That he had learned from a nineteen year old girl who used it on a over amorous and drunken Dom when he didn't have enough sense to take 'no' for an answer.
Orlando watched as the intruder gasped for breath before slumping down into unconsciousness.
The young man quickly jumped from his position on the floor, grabbed the floor lamp and pulled the cord out from the base. He then wrapped it around the his prisoner's hands which he placed behind his back, tying a very efficient knot to secure the make-shift restraints. Locating the other lamp, he did the same with that cord and wrapped them around his ankles, making it impossible for the man to get free.
He learned how to tie the knots from a Boy Scout Troop Leader he had known that was into bondage.
Looking down at the unconscious, bloody, bruised and hog-tied man on the floor, Orlando came to one conclusion.
Except for the whole choke-hold thing, it was quite fortuitous that he was such a slut if only that he could have learned all these life skills which would enable him one day to save his lover's very life.
Orlando picked up the gun, which felt heavy and solid in his hand. He stood over the prone body, aiming the gun once more at the helpless man.
"Oh lookie lookie. The fucking faggot has the gun," Orlando sneered as he held the gun up and looked at it in quiet reverence. "What was it you said again? Oh yeah...safety on," he said as he looked at the white dot, clicking the catch to the red, "and safety off. On," he said as he clicked it once more to white, "off. On. Off," Orlando taunted as he waved the gun back and forth in front of the man, while clicking the catch back and forth, finally landing on the red. "And look! Safety is off, so I guess if I wanted to shoot you, I could. Thanks for the fucking lesson in Firearms 101 arsewipe! Charleton Heston should be sending me my fucking NRA membership in the mail any day now."
"You don't have the balls you little fairy fuck!" the man spat out, a mixture of blood and drool puddling in front of his face.
Orlando kicked the man on the floor.
The man spit again, cursing several expletives along the way. "Look, I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry for what I was about to do to you on the floor. I was just trying to scare you," the man said, the sarcastic look on his face an indication of just how unapologetic he really was.
"Scare me? Is your cock that pathetically small?" Orlando smirked. "This isn't about you trying to fuck me on the floor. You think I care? I would've been laughing my arse off about it the whole bloody time. This is about you trying to take someone away from me that I happen to really care about," Orlando said, his anger coming to the forefront once again.
He kicked the body again.
"Fuck you!!! So you like being Bean's little boy toy? I bet you do. You look like you get off on it," the man sneered while trying to wriggle his way out of the restraints.
There were two things that bothered Orlando regarding what the man had just said, nothing of which had to do with being 'Bean's little boy toy.'
Actually, the idea made him hard as a rock just thinking about it.
No, what bothered him firstly was the fact that he wasn't being defensive about the shooting of Sean. It hadn't happened yet and he wasn't denying that he would have shot him.
It was almost as if he knew he would be shooting him.
And the second...
"How did you know his name?" Orlando questioned.
Things just weren't quite adding up.
It was as if two plus two was adding up to pi.
The man stopped struggling and shrugged his shoulders. "I saw his name...on the mail...in the kitchen," the man stuttered.
"And how did you know I wasn't the man who lived here?" Orlando asked again.
"Because I cased out the place," the man said quickly.
"So you've been watching the place...for four days," Orlando pondered. "For what? He doesn't have that bloody much!"
"Fuck! What is this? We playing twenty questions here?" the agitated thief bit out. "Yeah, I've been casing the whole neighborhood. He doesn't exactly have a security system...or a dog," he muttered.
"See? I knew it!" Orlando said as he held the gun up in triumph. "I am so throwing that in his face. And what's with the gun, eh mate?" he asked as he looked down at the man lying on his side. "Haven't you ever seen the 'use a gun - go to prison' bumper sticker? Now if you'd used a bloody taser, we wouldn't be in this mess, now would we? No, you could've bloody well walked off with the telly and that little stereo system over there, but no! You had to use a gun, didn't ya, ya bloody useless fool," Orlando muttered.
"What are you, some kind of home theft consultant?" The man then pitched his voice higher imitating a feminine drawl. "Oh and when breaking into a mark's home, only use non-lethal forms of protection."
"Oi! What is it with you lot! I don't bloody well sound like that!"
"I don't get you," the man said. "I held a gun at you, and yet you're just sitting here being all flippant fuck with me. Most people get all weird once they stare death in the face. I just don't fucking get you," he said as he shook his head.
Orlando laughed. "Stared death in the face, yeah? Been there, done that."
And he had the fucking tee-shirt to prove it.
Just then Shia ran into the house. "Dude! What's going on here. Whoa," the driver said as he stepped back. "You kidnapped me so you...you...you could have some kinky, bondage thing...ew...with your lover here?" he said disgustedly as he continued to point to the man on the floor.
"Hey, there's no kink here. I'm not this motherfucker's lover. Hey kid. Kid! Get me outta this, okay?" the man tried reasoning from the ground, crawling toward Shia.
Orlando sighed and looked at the Fed-Ex driver. "Call 911."
Shia looked back and forth between both men nervously, "dude, what the fuck is going on here?"
Before Orlando could answer his edgy co-worker, another voice joined the party. A very sexy, deep voice. "That's what I'd like to know. "
Orlando looked up and saw the most wonderful sight he would ever see.
He had the same shirt on from the vision, and he was standing in the exact same place, in front of the windows letting in the late morning light. Only this time he hadn't surprised an intruder ransacking his home.
"Orli, lad? What's going on?" Sean asked anxiously.
The younger man smiled before walking slowly toward Sean. He put the gun down on the side table, safety on. Orlando stared at Sean, willing the vision of his death to come to him.
But it didn't.
Because he stopped it from happening.
Sean was safe.
Orlando smiled once again and launched himself at the older man, his legs wrapping around Sean's waist as he peppered kisses all over that wonderful characteristically-lined face.
"Lad? What's this about?" Sean queried as he held Orlando out at arm's length, the younger man's legs coming down to rest on the floor.
"I wanted...I wanted to surprise you so I came over early and he was...was in here," Orlando said as he nodded toward the man tied up in the middle of the room. "I fought him Sean. He can't ever hurt you...ever again," Orlando said and smiled, throwing himself once again at the man, burying himself into the smooth, bullet-free chest.
"My hero," Sean laughed into Orlando's hair, suddenly stepping back and holding Orlando at arm's length once more. "You could've been hurt lad. And over what? This...this stuff?!?" Sean asked incredulously, waving his hands around the room. Sean gripped Orlando's biceps while confronting him, a fierce gleam in his eyes. "Now promise me lad you'll never do anything as foolish as that again," Sean said as he shook his young lover.
Orlando looked at Sean, a slightly worried expression on his face.
Sean was rather scary like this.
But of course, it meant only one thing.
A slow smile spread across Orlando's face while he whispered, "you care."
"Of course I do lad," Sean said as he hugged Orlando closely to his chest one more time.
"I'm touched. Hey skippy! Bring me a bucket. I'm gonna hurl over here!" the hog-tied man sneered.
"Right. 911," Shia said as he made his way to the phone, catching on to what was going on.
Orlando could not remember a time he had ever been as happy as he was at that moment. Neither Shia's bumbling through the call to the police nor the obscenities coming from the man on the floor seemed to bother him all that much. Sean was okay and Sean had been worried about him. Orlando held onto the moment, because truly, moments such as these were far and few between in his life. It was while he was buried against Sean's warmth, basking in the afterglow of having everything be perfect, that he suddenly felt something land on his cheek.
He knew that smell.
The smell of something metallic.
Orlando rubbed at the drop of blood on his cheek.
It couldn't be his. He hadn't sustained any injuries.
Orlando pushed off Sean's chest, slowly looking up to where the source of the fluid was coming from.
And there, inbedded in Sean's skull was a hammer.
Ghastly rivulets of blood were flowing freely down his lover's face, dripping down onto his shirt.
"Orli? Are you alright?" Sean asked, concern evident in his furrowed brows. "Orlando?"
Orlando stared at the vision.
Now this was really starting to piss him off.
"Oh bugger!" Orlando sighed.
*keeps whistling innocently*
You didn't really think that was it! Did you?
And if you are reading this, send some sort of fb, just to let me know please. I got more fb on my RL that I posted last night than on the last two chapters. :P
And here's a pic of Shia:
Also, yes, Sala was the actor who played Sauron on the Lotr and Jimmy the milkman was the character Orlando Bloom played in the Calcium Kid.
Orlando going down on Orlando. Oh yeah....