Rated PG13.

It's slashy. Hey, did you honestly expect otherwise?

SCARCELY SO


Johnny liked to be described as an imperturbable man - always in control of everything. Nothing could ever disturb his inner poise or make him lose his cool. Well, apart from maybe coffee deprivation. And, more importantly, a certain curly-haired British lad. See? He was even using British slang now. The bloody kid influenced him far too much. Wow. Rewind. The damn kid influenced him far too much. That’s right, damn. No bollocks and wankers and sod offs for him. Fuck, shit and son of a bitch sounded much better than that stuck-up prissy British.

Except, of course, when Orlando used it. He had the magic ability of pronouncing British in such way that it left Johnny staring in awe, watching those lips curl around those amazingly gorgeous words. Hell, he could even pronounce ‘discombobulated’ sexily. Not that he had ever said it – who would, really – but Johnny could perfectly imagine him doing so. Fuck, he really had some strange fetishes. And then he didn’t even mention his fascination for scars.

Sometimes he thought it was the long scar on Orlando’s back he was in love with. Not that he was in love or anything, but hey, just for the lack of a better term. Clearly he recalled the moment that Orlando had taken his shirt off in front of him right before the sword-training started. When he had turned his back on him, Johnny had been friggin’ ogling him, watching that jagged scar with his tongue on the floor, so to speak. With difficulty he had been able to keep his hands to himself, but damn, his fingers had been itching to touch the reminder of a life-changing accident.

He remembered the first time his fingers had made contact with it, after many a sleepless night. For once he had been happy with the existence of suntan lotion. Normally he couldn’t stand the smell of it - and besides, his Cherokee background had made him quite immune from the sun and its blazing rays – which was the reason he never used it himself. But when Orlando, who carried a bottle of suntan lotion with him wherever he went, had asked him one day if he could help him - he couldn’t reach his back - Johnny hadn’t hesitated for a second. In fact he had been suspiciously eager to pour the white cream in the palm of his hand before applying it onto those magnificent sun-kissed shoulders and, more importantly, onto that muscled back. Finally he’d found an excuse to feel the texture of that ragged piece of skin beneath his fingers and he had followed the movements of his hands with hungry eyes as they slowly ran along the length of the scar. Whereas Orlando’s back was unbelievably velvety, the cicatrice felt peculiar underneath his fingertips, yet not out of place. It didn’t taint the smoothness of the skin – in fact Johnny saw it as a mere adornment.

Hell, he could have fucked it if he’d had the chance.

From that moment on, his fascination had grown. At first, it was mainly the scar he had been interested in – which had made him believe he was some sort of twisted fuck. Who on earth would be obsessed with a scar? Only sick psychopaths, right? And Johnny Depps, or so it seemed. However, gradually he had grown to appreciate the rest of Orlando as well, although the cicatrice stayed the centre of his fixation. It had absolutely nothing to do with love. Love just wasn’t his thing. No, this was plain lust – although that didn’t really comprise the way he felt either. In fact he believed the English vocabulary considerably lacked the words that could describe what he felt. All he knew was that the irresistible Brit with that annoyingly gorgeous accent of his had gotten under his skin.

And the fun part was that the object of his obsession didn’t even realise.

But that was okay – it gave Johnny the opportunity to follow his every move, to watch that athletic body shift fluidly during the sword-trainings, which had become the highlight of his day. Especially the part when Orlando would take off his shirt to get in more comfortable clothes. Johnny realised perfectly well that he was rapidly becoming a big fucking pervert – after all, ogling 25-year-olds couldn’t be called healthy – but then, Orlando was just freaking asking for it. Those low-slung pants of him, showing enough of his boxers to attract Johnny’s attention, were definitely just to tease him, to make him crave and stare in wonder.

Or maybe they weren’t. But still it remained Johnny’s favourite excuse to observe the younger man: Orlando was provoking him. It was completely his own fault. He was too damn attractive for his own good with those untameable curls of his and those tight muscles, and it was completely natural that Johnny was intrigued. Damn kid.

The problem was the blonde. The blonde with that impossibly slim waist, with those awfully long legs and that never-fading smile. He hated her. Or maybe he just hated himself for loving her. She was the exact thing that Orlando needed, except that he was the exact thing that Orlando needed. Wasn’t he? Damn her and her cuteness. Jealousy really wasn’t his thing, but his entire being was filled with green envy when the blonde came into view. Which was quite often, seeing Orlando kept on dragging her to the set. How very inconsiderate indeed.

Oh well, he was already used to the role of spectator really. Observing was probably his favourite hobby. Observing and wishful thinking. If only he could touch that bloody scar again…

Yes, he was stuck, fascinated, obsessed, but in love? Scarcely. Love just wasn’t his thing.

:) That was amazing, Aurora. I could really feel exactly how he was feeling...the jealousy, the hatred...even the fascination of the scar. :blink:

A obsession fetish of scars is something you don't hear of every day so its expected to go:

:blink: :huh:

Yeh, I know it's not and I really don't have a clue where it came from either, hahah. Besides, Depp's scar-fascination was supposed to be in another story, but hey ;)

Thanks, anyway! :)

Nope, in fact, I was hoping it would be. *grins*

:lmao: I don't know why I found these lines so extremely funny, but I laughed my arse off when I read that. You're bloody hilarious, you know that? Ahem.

Odd fetishes indeed! But, as long as they're sitting on Orlando, it doesn't matter at all. ^_^

:drool: :drool: :drool: Woo.. Excuse me while I go and melt in a pool of drool and hormones. I want to be Johnneh goddammit!

Ahaha, I like the thought of Johnny being a pervert. <s>Woot, I'm such a pervert. *shrug*</s> But he's right though, Orlando is begging to be worshipped! Who can honestly blame Johnny for doing that? :tsk:

Oh, yeah.. Right.. *pokes (Kate?) The Blonde* I almost forgot about her. <_<

I feel so bad for Johnny though, even though he's a fictional character. (In this story anyway. Well.. You know what I mean.) Overall, I think this is brilliant.

lol@your comments :laugh:

And thank you MUCHLY for the quotes *cuddles matt*

Am glad you laughed about those lines, hahah.

*kisses*

Whee, I'm cuddled with! :D

I laughed my ass off, I actually did. I don't know why, but woot.. :lmao:

I'm doing my best, I think it's much easier to reply with QR. :D

Woot! I was in the mood for some good story but not quite slash and this one did the trick! Absolutely spiffy! Loved it! =) Awesome! Those details...the way you told the story...Amazing!

Eep! Thank you ever so much! :x

Wow...
I love this...
The point of view is incredibly intersting and so is the portrayal of Johnny!
Wow... really wow...
I'm amazed :)

loved this lin: dunny wjy
Not that he was in love or anything, but hey, just for the lack of a better term.

hug
Laila

^_^ Thank you!

[/imitation of a broken record]

*pops out of no where*

LMAO.

*hides in a dark corner*

:laugh:

What do you mean, you're insane?

Who, me? :noangel: