It was the way that Johnny looked at him, Orlando realized, that made him lose control. That made him want to smash everything, anything, if he could only make that look disappear for one blissful moment.
But it wasn't that he didn't like the way Johnny looked at him, thoughtful and with a hint of a smile decorating his face. No, it was the way that look made him feel. Johnny could make him turn a brilliant shade of red, thus making a fool out of himself. And the worst part was that Johnny didn't seem to realize this.
It amazed Orlando that he could even finish the scene without losing it. It wasn't at all like him to almost ruin a take, or at least never this bad. Thanking the heavens that he hadn't fallen flat on his face, both literally and figuratively speaking, he hurries away, ignoring the stares from the other cast members.
Arriving at his hotel room he decided he wants to get rid of some of his feelings, replacing the ache inside with another one, a more physical aching. So he goes to the rehearsal room, ready to swordfight with his shadow until he drops.
He never gets to that. The moment he opens the door he regrets he wanted to train in the first place. Johnny is standing with his back towards the door, fencing without an opponent just like Orlando had planned on doing. Until now.
Mesmerized he watched Johnny stab and move, his moves perfected after weeks of training. Nevertheless he continued, determined to make his performance more than perfect. And Orlando just stared, torn between joining Johnny and leaving again.
Before he gets the chance to decide what he wants to do - needs to do - Johnny turns around, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees Orlando. The sight is both funny and breathtaking. Johnny, his sword frozen in mid-air, a confused and yet delighted look on his face. A look that Orlando finds highly attractive.
And that's what scares him.
When Johnny moves again, Orlando is unable to move. Seeing Johnny approach him like this, grinning almost crazily, almost undoes him.
Without a word, Johnny grabs another sword and throws it at Orlando, who almost lets it slip out of his hands again. He manages to catch it, albeit only just, and produces a smirk. And still not saying anything, they start to train.
For almost an hour they strike and dodge, jump and duck. Completely lost in the moment, Orlando bites his lip as he evades another of Johnny's attacks, but fails to notice the jacket he'd lots at the beginning of their training.
The concentration in his eyes makes way for confusion when he slips and tumbles backwards, landing flat on his back. It doesn't hurt him, but the blow knocks the air out of his lungs.
And then Johnny is there, leaning over him, asking if he's okay. A nod, and Johnny smiles, relief obvious in his eyes. And yet he doesn't back off, just stares at the younger man with a look Orlando has learned to know and fear because of the feelings it gave him.
Still not bothering to say a word Johnny leans forward, his lips claiming Orlando's as realization dawns.
Maybe this is what Johnny had planned all along. All the time he'd looked at him with *that* look, every calculating gaze, every studying glance had been to set up his plan of attack. Maybe it was meant to be, maybe it was his - their - fate.
And it was no use fighting fate, right?
So Orlando responded to the kiss, slowly at first but as seconds passed by unnoticed more fiercefully. Hands roaming bodies, exploring, claiming.
Until Johnny breaks the kiss and gives Orlando another examining look. But this time, Orlando doesn't feel like ravishing things. Well, maybe Johnny. Neither of them speak, but the silence still isn't uncomfortable. There are moments when no words are needed, when they would only be a waste of energy.
When Johnny pulls Orlando to his feet he smirks, making sure he doesn't let his friend go again. And Orlando doesn't struggle. Struggling against destiny, after all, makes no sense.