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10 February 2004 @ 01:54 am
FIC: "And you still wonder why she loves you?"  
Title: "And you still wonder why she loves you?"
Author: Osiris Brackhaus (OsirisBrackhaus@aol.com)
Website: Fafnir's Lair: http://www.morningchilde.com
Part: 1/1
Pairing: Orli/Heath (maybe also Orli/tea-bowl, but that's taking it a bit far...)
Rating: PG13
Archive: Yes, but please ask first.
Feedback: Sure, hit me!
Warnings: major fluff
Summary: Sometimes, things as simple as a tea-bowl can spark unexpected passions...
Disclaimer: not mine, sigh...
Dedication: To Beryll, who inspired this ficlet with a tiny tale of her own...


----


"Oh Honey, look what I've brought back from the set's canteen!"

Orli's mirthful yell made it only halfway through to the kitchen, where Heath was just busy preparing a small supper.

"Orli", Heath shouted back, "You know I can't hear a word you say when you're in the bedroom!"

Swearing silently to himself, Heath wondered once again why it was always his turn on kitchen duties when it was so hot outsides that he ended up wearing nothing but an apron and shorts. Even a meal as simple as scrambled eggs turned into a risky business when your arms and most of you chest are free to catch every single fucking bit of flying hot fat.

"Here, look. I've snatched us another tea-bowl", Orli explained calmly, having sneaked into the kitchen unnoticed.

Only casting half a look at the thing, Heath said:

"Yeah, nice. Come sit down, diner's ready."

Rummaging around in their small kitchen, both of them soon settled around the wooden table in the centre of the room, the tea-bowl, half-forgotten, rested peacefully next to the sink.

"I'd already grown fond of it the last time we were in Wellington, and as it was still there when I came back now, I just could not bring myself to leave it there", Orli started to chatter after having heaped a generous amount of eggs onto his slice of bread already sporting quite an array of cheese and chives and other stuff Heath didn't want to pay too close attention to.

He only stared at his lover for quite a time without comprehension, then asked:

"You couldn't leave what?"

"The tea-bowl", Orli replied with a mock frown. He knew that when his Heath was busy cooking, it was hard to turn his attention to anything else.

"Oh."

The blond actor turned around, still chewing, watching the tea-bowl with real interest for the first time.
A timeless, classical piece of fine china, cream-coloured, maybe even with a hint of peach. Unadorned, yet the spidery, dark lines of cracked, vintage glazing on it's outside made it look like a lovely, old piece. A tiny chink missing on the rim only added to the appearance.

"So where you say you've got it from?", Heath asked as he turned around again.

Grinning, his lover answered:

"From the canteen on the set in Wellington."

"And why didn't you buy it?"

With an irritated shrug, Orli replied:

"Honestly don't know. Maybe I was afraid it belonged to someone else. I was so fond of it when we originally worked in those studios, and when I came back for the re-takes, it was still there. I think I would have missed it if I left it there again."

"Mmmm... "

For a moment, both men were silent, watching the vintage piece of ceramic on the sink.

Finally, Orli said humorously:

"It's probably quite irritated now that there's not so many people around anymore. But I think it'll adjust well...

"I think it is very happy to be with you now", Heath replied dead serious.

"And why you think it is? There were many others around using it as well."

"Even a whore can fall in love..."

The serious tone of his lover's voice made Orlando blink in irritation, and as the implications of Heath' last sentence slowly trickled into his mind, he stared at him with an unbelieving smile.

"You're joking! Why do you think it's in love with me?"

"But isn't that obvious why she's in love with you?", Heath explained with a knowing smile, gesturing with his fork.

"Just imagine you were her, a lonely piece of china among the many bland IKEA pieces of a movie set canteen..."

"Heath, you've got a serious problem."

"Shut up, you man with a heart of stone, imagine and listen to your heart."

Continuing in his best storytellers voice, Heath carefully took the tea-bowl from it's place on the sink and put it onto the table.

"So many people using you, so many unknown faces ever day."

Still hardly believing the show Heath put on right now, Orli shook his head again, but he was curious to see what his lover was up to.

"Sure, maybe there's a regular in between, but nothing serious. They take you out of your shelf, not making any difference between your or any of the other jumbled pieces on the board. Some use you for tea, some for coffee. That's already cruel, but hey, that's your job, and you're good at it."

Fighting a giggle, Orli was hard-pressed to take his lover's performance serious, but Heath was in a damn good mood, and slowly, his seriousness turned in to credibility, and suddenly, the tea-bowl had a soul.

"Sometimes, you're even forced to serve cereals, and there's nothing you can do about it. It's a tough life, but the best you can aim for. You're the oldest of the whole shelf, but still you have far more style than any of the young twits that share the board with you."

Gently, Heath took his lover's hands, careful not to break the spell of storytelling he had so craftily woven, and looking deep into Orlando's eyes, he went on:

"And then, one morning, there is a special customer. Out of nowhere, there is someone who genuinely cares for you. Slender hands take you out of the shelf, and for the first time in what seems to you like ages, there is someone who can appreciate your beauty, cracked and chipped as it may be."

Heath smile widened into his trademark beaming grin as he added:

"And as I know you, you probably have cleaned her carefully before you used her for the first time, didn't you?"

Feeling somewhat spellbound and still very disbelieving, Orli only nodded.

"So this special customer takes you over to the sink, take care to have the water neither too cold nor too hot. Slender hands begin to clean you, gentle fingers touching every single inch of your surface."

Almost dreamily, Heath took Orlando's hand and put it softly against his cheek, a careful caress full of respect and tenderness.

"So long it has been since you have been touched like this. So many years since someone had judged you precious enough not to end up in the dish-washer together with all the others, such a long time since last someone has dried you with a cloth.
Instantly, you know that this customer is different. He will not use you for vile things, neither for muesli nor for coke. You can hardly believe your luck as you are put on a small tray next to a vintage Japanese cast-iron tea-pot, and as you customer fills a tiny bit of hot water into first the tea-pot and then into you, you are close to tears. He KNOWS. And even more important, he cares."

Heath stood up and walked around the table, his eyes never leaving Orlando's. Gently, he sat down on his lover's lap, still holding his hand.

"While both the tea-pot and you are given the precious time to warm up, your thoughts wander to forbidden pleasures. You start to think of the future. Will he keep you? It's improbable, you know. But still, it's a dream you wish to come true with all your heart. You watch him prepare good, Chinese black tea, not in bags, but loose, and you can hardly suppress a shiver of anticipation. And then, suddenly, he pours out the water and puts you back onto the tray, carefully filling you with hot, delicious, invigorating black China Szechuan. His gentle, slender hands take you, wrapping his fingers all around you, touching you everywhere, holding you so firm and yet so gentle."

Letting go of his lover's hands, Heath softly touched his lover's cheeks, still not letting go of his eyes for a second.

"He holds you. Warms his hands on your sides, and you dare to search his face for his lips."

Heath fingers moved down a bit, softly caressing Orlando's lips, touching them only ever so lightly.

"Beautiful, his lips are, fine and curved like designed by Cupid himself. What will it be like when those lips touch you? Will it be as perfect as everything else has already been? You watch his lips move as he blows away some of the steam that rises from the tea you hold for him, and for a long time, you are happy to serve. Happy to give for someone who can appreciate what you do. He is perfect. He is lovely."

A tiny moment of mutual silence passed, both men captured in the image Heath had created in both their minds. And then, the blond actor bent forward to come closer to his lover's lips, and went on.

"He takes you up to his mouth, carefully, almost reverentially, as it should be done with the first sip of tea. And as his lips touch you, you know that he is as perfect as you have imagined him. His first sip is only small, but for you, it is a gift beyond measuring. And then, when he licks off a tiny droplet that has escaped his lips, you know that you were made for him."

Licking off an imaginary drop of tea from his lover's lips, Heath smiled at the shudder that ran through Orlando's body.
Putting both his arms around his lover's neck, Heath continued his tale, his voice still low, yet harder now than before:

"And when he is finished, he puts you back to all the other cups and mugs on the dirty pile in the kitchen. You feel like being about to break, having been given such grace and beauty, and yet being denied to keep it once more. Right then, you hate the world."

Smiling reconciliatory, Heath added:

"But the next morning, you beautiful customer is back again, and instead of choosing any of the other mugs, he goes and searches for you. No-one else. And he is as lovely and careful as the first time, and yet as non-commitive. But you can live with that. At least, he's a regular now, and one you await every morning with eager anticipation. All the others on the shelf envy you by now, and you bask in the glory of your renewed status. He stays with you almost three month, and it is a lovely time. But then, all of a sudden, he's gone.
He doesn't return, neither the next day or the day after. You dream lover is gone, and with him all the dreams you have had. As if he never existed, and soon, all the old customers with their coffee and cereals are back again.
Only when you think you can't bear it any longer, only when there seems to be no light in your existence anymore, he suddenly is back again it your life."

Gently, Heath kissed his lover's neck, his throat, his chin.

"He is back, and he has got eyes only for you. And your broken heart seems to heal with the first sip of tea he pours into you. He still is the one you dream of, and still the one with the slender hands and the gentle, gentle lips. But this time, he does not abandon you. No, instead, he takes you home, doesn't care for your owner or anybody, just puts you into his bag and keeps you. He takes you home. Brings you home. And he is going to keep you forever."

Staring into Orlando's dark eyes for a long moment, Heath's eyes sparkled with joy as he asked:

"And you still wonder why she loves you?"

"You're fucking mad", Orli stated, shaking his head as the tale's spell slowly wore off. "But you made me really hungry now."

Both men stared at the half-eaten supper, and only as Heath noticed the gentle, rocking motion of his lovers thighs underneath him, he got the point.

"I think, then, that the food will have to wait", he said with a guilty smile, and when Orlando pulled him down onto the floor, ripping off the simple apron Heath still wore, he actually was grateful that his lover had brought home once again an apparently completely useless piece of junk. Though, this time, it had proven to be rather... inspiring.

The end.
 
 
Current Mood: moody
 
 
 
chichiriachichiria on February 10th, 2004 04:18 am (UTC)
OMG LOL! That was priceless *laughs*

Seriously, how were you able to make such a "normal" piece of china so intriguing and errr.. sexy? I loved it!

But the next morning, you beautiful customer is back again, and instead of choosing any of the other mugs, he goes and searches for you. No-one else. And he is as lovely and careful as the first time, and yet as non-commitive. But you can live with that. At least, he's a regular now, and one you await every morning with eager anticipation. All the others on the shelf envy you by now, and you bask in the glory of your renewed status. He stays with you almost three month, and it is a lovely time. But then, all of a sudden, he's gone.

that was my favourite part :)
osirisbrackhausosirisbrackhaus on February 10th, 2004 05:23 am (UTC)
Re:
Dear Chichiria,

actually, that praise belongs mostly to Beryll. It was her who first produced the 'Even a whore can fall in love' line talking about a tea-bowl.
Well, the rest was easy ;-)

Thanks for your kind FB,
take care

Osiris
Beryllrynthjan on February 10th, 2004 07:00 am (UTC)
Re:
Awh... thank you honey!
But how could anybody not come up with a line like that watching you sip from a stolen teabowl? *adores Osiris*
Though it does look even better on Orli* *adores Orli*

*giggle*
Beryll
cecine on February 16th, 2004 09:12 am (UTC)
*laughs* that's one lucky tea-bowl...
Great!