Fandom: Celebrity RPS
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Sean Bean
Challenge: AU Orlibean. Sean is hired to kidnap Orlando who he assumes is a spoiled rich kid who turns out to be anything but, when the ransom isn't paid the order comes down for Sean to kill him. It's a race against time to get them both to safety. Written for amygirl's request at the_challenger.
Summary: Sean's little brother has a taste for the ponies but no talent when it comes to choosing winners, and owes a local gangster a lot more money than he can come up with. Sean agrees to do an "easy job" in payment of the debt -- kidnapping a spoiled young punk named Bloom and hanging on to him while the gangster gets a ransom from the lad's family. It should've been a simple job, but then things started to get complicated.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone you recognize. I know nothing about their social lives or sexual activities, more's the pity. This is fiction, period. It is done as a labor of love and I make no money from it.
Previous Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four
The dark, forty-ish man who pushed his way in as soon as Sean had opened the door was actually someone Sean recognized. His name was Donny and he was one of Merriwether's low-level lieutenants. He was about Sean's height and husky, but with a gut to him and a round, soft face that came from a good decade or more of having other boys to do his leg-breaking for him.
He stood as though he intended to take over the space, his eyes sweeping the room. He smirked at Sean and in a too-loud voice said, "Hey there, Sh--"
Sean body-slammed him into the wall, one hand clamped over the idiot's mouth. Blokes like this, they understood only two things, fear and power, and he'd given Sean the perfect opening to prove he was a player in this game and not just another chip.
"Do not say my name," he hissed, letting all his anger surge up into his voice and show on his face. "The boy hasn't seen me and doesn't know my name and it's going to stay that way." He didn't bother making any threats. He let Donny jerk against him a few times, just enough to make it clear that Sean -- who still worked for a living -- was the stronger of the two, then took a quick step back and released him, still glaring.
Donny glared back and twitched as though he were thinking of going for Sean. Sean just stood there, ready. Part of him was actually hoping the bastard would try it -- he'd a lot of frustration and stress packed inside him and a good brawl would be a welcome way of letting it all out.
The other man didn't take it past a nasty look, though. He was alone and probably hadn't had to deal with anything like this by himself for a while. Sean might not be a professional knee-capper but he was large enough and strong, and he'd run the streets as a lad. He was dangerous enough and he was clearly past the edge of angry. Donny backed down.
He straightened his coat, still glaring right into Sean's eyes. They both knew he'd been the one to refuse the fight but he was going to pretend he hadn't submitted and that it didn't matter anyway. Sean was good with that, so long as the fucker knew not to mess with him.
"I'll go get the stuff, then, and you can get back to your boss." Sean gave the man a hard look, then turned his back and walked over to the bedroom. He was hoping the fucker'd stay put but no such luck; after a moment he heard footsteps at his back.
The hairs at his nape prickled and he half expected to feel a knife between his ribs or at least a knee to the kidney but he made it into the bedroom all right. Orlando was still exactly where Sean had left him and he was tense and trembling, projecting fear like nobody's business. Either the kid had an unsuspected talent for acting or he was truly terrified.
Sean pulled a folding knife out of his pocket and chose the smallest blade. He used it the least and so it was the sharpest. He snarled down at Orlando, "Stay still or I'll cut yeh," before grabbing one of the lad's curls sticking out from under the scarf, tugging it out straight and cutting it off in one clean slice. The soft hair wound gently around his fingers and he felt a fleeting wish that he could keep it.
He shot a look over his shoulder to where Donny was leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed, smirking at Orlando's awkward, handcuffed sprawl on the bed. "Did yeh bring somethin'? Bag, envelope?"
Donny just looked at him, one eyebrow raised.
Sean sneered back at him and thought for a bit, then headed into the bathroom. There was a stack of ancient magazines on the back of the toilet and that'd do. He hated leaving Orlando alone with the fucker but he couldn't help it and couldn't show he minded.
He grabbed a magazine off the top of the stack and tore a page out of it. He folded it in half, slipped the brown curl into it and folded it again. That'd do and if not then that was Donny's look-out.
He strode back into the bedroom. Donny'd moved over to the side of the bed and was looking down at Sean's lad with a gleam in his eye that made Sean's lip curl and his fist clench. He barked, "Move!" and shoved in between Donny and the bed. "Here." He put the folded page into the man's hand, then turned his back on him again and put one knee on the bed to lean over Orlando.
The lad wore a couple of pendants and he figured one of them'd do. And it wasn't as if he'd never get it back either -- it was going to his parents and it'd be waiting for him at home when this mess was done and over with.
Sean grabbed his shoulder and yanked, pulling Orlando into a sitting position with their chests pressed together. Orlando yelped and then gave a whimper of pain. Sean snarled at him to shut up, then reached under his hair with both hands to find the fastening of one of the pendants -- either one, he didn't care which.
The clasps were tiny and he fumbled a bit. The feel of his fingers brushing against the soft, warm skin at the back of Orlando's neck wasn't helping at all. He heard Donny snort behind him and gritted his teeth. He pulled out his knife again, leaned over so he could see what he was doing (and to breathe "Sorry" into Orlando's ear) and slashed through one of the twisted silk cords.
He yanked the thing off from the lad's neck, getting another yelp in the process, and tossed it to Donny. "There," he said. "You've got what you came for."
Sean stood up and turned to face him. He held his hands down by his sides but he kept his face blank and unwelcoming, making it clear that he expected the man to get right back in his car and head off.
The fucker eyed him up and down as though taking his measure. Sean just crossed his arms and eyed him right back.
Donny snorted and muttered, "Fulla yerself, ain't yeh?" and sauntered out.
Sean didn't answer, but followed him out, locked the door behind him and watched through the window until his car disappeared down the narrow drive.
Fuckin' hell. That could've gone better. Not that Sean regretted how he'd handled it -- if he'd backed down then Donny would've hassled him just because he could, and might've messed with Orlando as well. Hell, he wouldn't put it past a prick like that to've taken a finger off the lad just to get in good with his boss -- get him what he'd wanted in the first place and hand it to him done up in a ribbon, to show he could get things done.
He pushed a tense hand through his hair and tried to think. What next?
Merriwether'd be sending the hair and the pendant to Orlando's family and then waiting for an answer, so that gave them a bit of time. But Donny was another player in the game now and he might figure he couldn't let Sean get away with backing him down like that. And Donny was a lieutenant, not just a hired muscle; he had boys working for him. Sean being outside of their organization gave him some freedom but it also made him a problem to the folks inside; letting some single bloke without a gang behind him back him off would get him all nervous, like, and angry. He commanded his boys because they were afraid of him, both personally and for the power he had through Jack Merriwether. If Sean blabbed around that he'd stared Donny down all by himself, Donny'd lose face, which'd make it harder for him to do his job and might eventually get him replaced, maybe the hard way.
The question was whether he'd try to even things up, and if so then how?
The first part wasn't really a question 'cause of course he'd try to get his own back. "How" was most likely coming after Sean with some of his bully-boys and teaching him respect from the end of a good, heavy pipe or something like that. "When" was iffy 'cause Donny's own boss still had use for Sean and wouldn't take it well if Donny messed with him before he'd served his purpose.
Of course, at this point one of Donny's own boys could pretty easily do what Sean was doing, and likely do it better whether or not anyone in Merriwether's organization knew it,so replacing him wouldn't exactly be difficult even if he had an unfortunate accident.
Which led to the question of just why Sean was doing it in the first place. Why bring in some outsider, someone who'd never had anything to do with a kidnapping before and would be just as likely to muck it up as get it right, when he could've handed the task to just about anyone who already worked for him and get at least as good a job done and most likely better? Wouldn't he have been better off getting Sean or his da to cover Tommy's debt? They'd've made payments forever with the interest adding on and never got out from under it -- unless some good fortune would've struck like lightning -- which was just what the loan sharks liked to see. Collecting interest every month forever was good business. Which wasn't to say the family'd have agreed, mind, but Merriwether'd never even proposed it -- why?
The sound of the bed squeaking reminded Sean that Orlando was still trussed up in the bedroom and likely none too comfortable. He hurried back while digging the handcuff key out of his pocket.
"Hang on, lad, and I'll have you out of those." He rolled him up onto his side and went to work on the cuffs, first one and then the other. They went back onto the dresser and he helped Orlando sit up and rubbed his wrists for him.
Orlando flexed his arms and rubbed his shoulders, hissing in a breath and grimacing in pain. "Sorry," he said. He whispered, as though he were afraid someone might still be nearby and listening. "My arms ached already from before and then getting pulled back again like that...." He trailed off and shrugged.
"Sorry," Sean muttered. He hated having caused the boy any pain but he couldn't regret what he'd done earlier. If Donny'd gotten any idea that Sean was going soft on the lad, he'd have reported it straight to Merriwether and then it would've been the both of them in the fire.
"I think we're good for the night," he continued. "It'll take 'im least a couple hours t'get the stuff to his boss and then get it t'your family, however they're doing that. Then they'll have t'give your da some time to respond and all, so we should be able to get some sleep. Time enough to worry what next in the morning."
Orlando nodded but didn't move. He fidgetted with his fingers for a few seconds, then whispered, "He told me your name."
Orlando sat still and quiet, his head ducked down and his hands clenched in his lap, listening and feeling for any reaction, some sound or a movement of air that might indicate that Sean was angry or might hurt him. The man had been as gentle and kind as anyone could be under the circumstances and had taken good care of him and obviously not wanted to hurt him, but that'd been when Orlando hadn't known who he was.
Knowing his name, Orlando could send him to prison and that changed the situation completely. Or it might've. Now that Orlando was no longer harmless, his captor might well have turned into the one person who'd want to kill him the most, whether his father ever paid the ransom or not.
Sean. Sean might want to kill him.
He didn't say anything right away and when he did it was just a growled, "Fuckin' hell." A big hand closed over Orlando's knee and he was tense enough to jump just a little. The hand squeezed gently and it felt comforting, just as that rich, velvet voice did, even when it was swearing.
"What all did he tell you, then? It were while I was in the loo, yeah?"
Orlando nodded and answered, "He said that I was in luck, that Sean Bean was a... was gay too and that you'd give me a good tupping before the end, if you hadn't already, and he asked if I'd like that."
More low, snarled swearing, then, "And did you believe him, then?"
Orlando shook his head quickly. "No. I mean, I don't know, you might be gay or he might've just been trying to frighten me but even if you are I don't think you'd hurt me like that. If you were going to then you would've already, you've had no reason to wait." He babbled faster as he went on, afraid that Sean might be the kind of man who was horribly offended at the suggestion that he might be gay and that if so he might get a slap or a punch just for saying it but he really didn't think so although it was possible, but the hand just squeezed his knee once more.
"You're right, I wouldn't," he said, and it was obvious he meant to be comforting. His voice wrapped around Orlando like a warm woolen rug. "I like my partners enthusiastic, lads and lasses both. You've naught to fear from me."
Orlando nodded again. He couldn't help but feel his body relaxing with released tension. He'd been sure, really sure, that Sean wasn't the sort to enjoy hurting him, either in the more usual fashion or by raping him, but the fear had been there anyway. Which didn't make a lot of sense but there it was.
The hand lifted off his knee and the arm it was attached to slipped around his shoulders for a rough squeeze. Another hand ruffled his hair and he found himself smiling for the first time since all this had started.
"So get comfortable, then. You need help with your clothes?"
"No, thanks." Orlando'd found himself stripped down to his pants when he'd woken up that morning and had no hesitation about shucking his clothes again now so he scooted across the bed, swung his legs over the far side and sat up, then started unbuttoning his shirt.
He felt the mattress shift and the bed creaked and then the tension released and he knew Sean had stood up. He'd sort of unconsciously expected to hear him leave the room but instead he heard a rustling that sounded like someone getting undressed.
Orlando's fingers fumbled on one of his buttons for a moment, then he swallowed hard and kept going.
They crawled into bed together and Orlando heard the click of the lamp going off. There was barely room for them to lie separately and shifting around for a comfortable position, Orlando's hand brushed against Sean's. The man didn't move it away, so he left his hand there, then slowly burrowed it underneath. The big, warm hand completely covered his, at least when he curled his fingers a bit, and it was a comfort. He knew he wasn't alone, that there was someone nearby looking out for him.
He relaxed, and slept.
Next Chapter: Chapter Six