Growing Room: Sweet Sorrow 2/2
Mar. 19th, 2005 10:46 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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vigorliTitle: Growing Room 2: Sweet Sorrow 2/2
Author: Rainweaver13
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Summary: Last-minute jitters
Rating/Warnings: NC-17. AU in that this takes place "now," but blithely refuses to take into account current realities.
Disclaimer: Don't own them, don't know what they do in their private lives; wouldn't want to - they are their own. This is fond fiction.
A/N: These boys just won't leave me alone.
This is a followup to a longer fic, Breathing Room, which can be found here:
Breathing Room Look under Personal Fics
Late January 2005, L.A. 4:52 a.m.
It was Viggo's car all right, the blue gas-conserving, planet-saving hybrid. And there sat Viggo, on the ground in front of the car, leaning back against the bumper, eating from a large bag of M&Ms. An open box of donuts and an extra-large coffee container sat on the ground beside him. Head leaned back against the grill and eyes half-closed, he didn't seem to have noticed Orlando's approach.
"What the bloody fuck are you doing?" Orlando asked, keeping his voice low on account of the neighbors, coming to a stop against the security gates, the bat hanging easily from one hand.
Viggo rolled his head over slightly, considered Orlando's arrival, then went back to his candy munching. "Pfeffernusse," he said thoughtfully, then repeated it because he liked the way it felt on his tongue. "Pfeffernusse."
"Have you lost your mind, y'daft hippie?" Orlando moved to one side so he could reach the keypad to open the gates. "Are you stoned?" he whispered. "You do realize you're sitting in the grass on the side of the road at five in the fucking morning." He had to pause for a moment to make sure he got the combination right, then step back as the gates swung open.
Viggo picked up the coffee cup and took a meditative sip, looking up at what he could see of the stars through the always too bright lights of L.A. It was never much. Yet another thing he hated about this fucking city; even the stars stayed away from it, probably embarrassed by the humans degrading their good name on the ground.
Orlando slipped through the opening gates and walked over to crouch beside Viggo, trying to keep on the drive as much as possible. "Viggo, love..." he said gentle, reaching out to brush rumpled hair back from the older man's face. "You're sitting on the ground and it's wet."
"'Sokay. Want a donut?"
"Not right now." Orlando considered him thoughtfully. He didn't seem particularly sad or upset, just... vague. "What's a fefernoose?"
"Cookie. My grandmother used to make them. Mortensen. In Denmark." Viggo put down the bag of candy carefully and helped himself to another donut. "Means peppernut. They had black pepper in them and some kind of liquor, and powdered sugar all over. I loved those cookies."
"And... that's why you needed donuts and candy?" Orlando guessed, leaning one shoulder against the car.
"I was dreaming. That's what woke me up. About going to Denmark when I was a kid." He licked glaze from his fingers absently.
"Good dreams?" As much as Orlando had learned about Viggo in their time together, vast chunks of the older man's life remained unknown ground. Orlando found himself fascinated by the blank spaces but wary of them as well. Here be dragons, after all, it always said on the edges of old maps of the world.
"Not so much." Viggo polished off the last of the donut and went back to the coffee. "Visits to Denmark were always... unsettling. I loved it there." Sip. "But you never knew what you'd be going back to when you left. Sometimes the same place, sometimes different. Sometimes just a different house in the same town, but one time a whole different country."
He picked up the bag of candy again and held it up toward Orlando. "Want some?"
"No, thanks. I don't like to do chocolate before breakfast."
"Your loss." Viggo dug out a handful of candies and fed them steadily into his mouth.
"So... you dreamed about going to Denmark and pepper cookies, so now you're sitting on the wet grass in the dark working on a massive sugar rush."
"I reckon."
"Vig, lover... come on back in the house. We can still get a little more sleep before we have to be up for the day." Orlando stroked the shaggy light brown hair. "I need you to keep me warm."
"I'm leaving for Spain tomorrow."
"I know. All the more reason to spend comfy time together, don't you think?" Orlando dropped the bat for a moment to pull his robe tighter around his bare legs. It was chillier in the pre-dawn hours than you'd expect.
The sound of an engine purred toward them and lights swept across them from the back of the car as an SUV passed in the darkness. Probably someone on the way to work. Both pairs of eyes watched the red taillights vanish in the distance, the brown eyes concerned, the blue ones almost angry.
"C'mon, people are starting to wake up. Y'don't want to see our picture on next week's Enquirer, do you?" Orlando kept his tone light, brushed fingertips along Viggo's stubbly jaw.
"Yeah, you're right," Viggo murmured, barely audible, and shoved himself upright, leaning over to drop the candy bag into the donut box then pick up the box and the coffee. "C'mon, I'll give you a ride home." With a little smirk of a smile, there and gone.
Moments later they were in the dark kitchen, with gates and garage doors closing behind them. Viggo tipped up the coffee cup and drained it, tossing the empty in the trash, then leaned back against the kitchen counter, looking vaguely lost.
Orlando propped the bat in a corner and walked up against Viggo, resting his head on the familiar shoulder, lips brushing light kisses to his neck. After a moment, Viggo's arms came around him and they stood pressed together without speaking.
"Were you planning to bean me with that bat?" Viggo muttered finally, one hand stroking Lan's back while the other rested atop the swell of a hip.
"If you were a robber, you were a goner," Orlando said firmly. "Nobody breaks into your house."
"Our house." Softly.
"Our house." A gentle nip at the neck. "Come to bed with me?" Orlando rocked his hips against Viggo's, pressing him back against the counter.
A momentary hesitation. "I'm not sure I... I..."
"Kiss me."
Kissing had never been a problem. Just put your lips together and melt, then boil, then erupt into flames. Orlando, picking up an odd sense of hesitation and almost fear from Viggo, took control of the kiss and poured himself into it without restraint. Both hands slid into the still sleep-rumpled hair and held Viggo tight as Orlando tried to communicate every ounce of love and support with lips and tongue alone.
They broke apart, panting, and after a moment of catching his breath Viggo whispered, "Okay," and Orlando led them through the living room and back to their bedroom. Clothing was a matter of untying one knot and shrugging for Orlando, then he moved quickly in front of Viggo and gently slid his hands up under the inside-out t-shirt, pulling it over Vig's head. Viggo just watched, bemused but making no argument, as Orlando unbuttoned his jeans and worked them down over his hips and legs. Only then did Orlando realize the crazy hippie was wearing no shoes. How did he manage to get into stores to buy his sugar fixes?
The clothes gone, he turned his attention to matters at hand and found, as he'd anticipated, not much in the way of arousal. Orlando knew that if he looked up at Viggo right now, he'd see a tight jaw and gaze fixed determinedly somewhere far away. Orlando settled to his knees and gently caressed the leanly muscled body before him, stroking it the way he'd watched Viggo stroke horses to settle them down. Only after a while did he let one hand cup Viggo's balls and leaned forward to take the soft flesh into his mouth. They'd been dealing with this for a month now, and Orlando knew some things that would work and some that wouldn't. Right now, he just wanted to get a response, any response. And there it was, a slight hardening. He tugged on it firmly, sliding his tongue around...
... And there came Viggo's hand on his head, fingers spreading into his hair, tugging him upward. As always.
Orlando stood, smiled at the still always sheepish grin, and kissed hell out of the older man, then fell backwards onto the bed. Viggo crawled on top of him...
"Don't slobber all over me."
"Bossy."
... And slathered wet slobbery kisses all over his chest...
"Disgusting! I told you-"
... And some kisses that stole all his breath away...
"Hmmph. No complaints about that."
"Wha-"
... And claimed ground between his legs to give him a tormenting, slow-motion blow job that brought him to the edge of orgasm at least a half-dozen times and left him high and dry every time before finally employing some digital assistance to take Orlando all the way over the edge of the world and into the vortex of spinning, spangling sensation.
Orlando crawled back into his body to find that it was lying in its favorite place in the world, snuggled up against Viggo's side with his head in the hollow of Viggo's shoulder. He looked up lazily to see Viggo staring at the ceiling with a very small smile on his face.
"Hey, studmuffin," Orlando purred.
"Hey yourself, beautiful." Viggo rubbed his arm gently. "You okay?"
"Better than." Orlando stirred his fingertips through the thicker than usual hair on Viggo's chest, musing mildly on how much it felt like stroking a dog... no, some larger, gentler, but potentially more dangerous beast. "Want to talk about it?"
Viggo sighed. He knew Orlando didn't mean the sex problem; they'd come to a sort of accommodation on that during the past month and while he wasn't anywhere near happy about it, at least he wasn't so terribly worried any more.
"Have you decided where you'll be staying while I'm gone?"
Orlando kept his body relaxed, his fingers gentle, knowing that the perilous ground was being approached. "Probably at the Marmont. Lynne's idea."
"Good one. They know about privacy." A small pause while hard-padded fingers drew shapes on Orlando's arm. "They can play the game, too."
"I'll be fine there."
Viggo drew in a deep breath and let it out slow. "I want to do this part, Lan. I want to play Diego Alatriste as much as I've ever wanted anything."
"I know, lover." Orlando's fingers idly circled a nipple. "And you'll be fantastic."
"I'm afraid to go to Spain." The words were so soft they were almost inaudible. "I'll be gone for nearly eight months and we've only just... " A hard swallow, and the rough fingers were digging into Orlando's arm now; Viggo's face pressed against his head, words muffled by chocolate curls. "I'll come back and you'll be moved to a different country."
Orlando's heart stuttered then took off at a gallop. So this is what the dreams were about, about moving toward one love only to lose another or have it change beyond recognition. "I'm not going to lose touch with you, Vig. I promise. I love you. You are the world to me."
Viggo's arm tightened around him, pulled him atop the newly lean body. Bruised blue eyes looked up at him in the pale gray light of earliest dawn. "I can't lose you again, Lan." The simple sentence held absolutely nothing of threat, and everything of calm prediction.
"You'll have to trust me." Orlando pressed a soft kiss to Viggo's dry lips.
"You're bigger than me," Viggo said, and it could mean any number of things, from the purely physical - Orlando's beefy Kingdom of Heaven physique literally made him bigger than Viggo's stripped-down Alatriste leanness - to the career. "You've got the power."
Orlando cupped Viggo's face in his hands and stared directly into haunted blue eyes. "I love you. I don't want anybody else. I've had my scare. You can trust me."
Viggo's face was such a mangle of love, hope and fear that Orlando wanted to just hold him forever, but that wasn't really feasible. He knew his actions in recent years had caused this lack of trust and he couldn't be angry with Viggo for not completely relying on him yet, but it was frustrating. So... when all else fails, go for humor.
"Besides, if I fuck with you again, Henry will kill me," Orlando said, shuddering at the thought.
"Yeah, well... he's a good kid." Viggo recognized the distraction for what it was, and let it go, wishing it would take all the frustrating fears crawling around in his guts with it. "You'll call me every few days?"
"On my honor."
"You'll tell me how Sidi's doing?"
"Absolutely."
"You'll let me know about any new lovers?"
"In excruciating detail."
"Bastard."
"Hey, you asked."
"I'm planning on joining the Senorita of the Week Club."
"For what? To do your laundry?"
"Hey, I'm bi. I know what to do with a woman."
"Fine. I'm off to the islands with Depp. Fear me."
"Depp's so straight these days he couldn't find his way through a maze. Be careful of his weed, though. He lays hands on some powerful shit."
Both mouths were smiling, both heads resting - one on a pillow, the other on a chest, voices growing mumbly as one sugar rush wore off and another interrupted sleep caught up.
"Whass those cookies again?"
"Pfeffernusse. Great word. Fun to say. Pfeffernusse. 's German."
"But you were in Denmark."
"So? We eat tacos."
"Huh?"
"Go t'sleep, elf boy."
"Mmmm...."
-----------------------------------------------
A week later, in Madrid, Viggo received a package from Los Angeles with no familiar return address. He almost sent it back unopened, but he was mildly bored that day so he decided to take a chance.
As soon as he opened the box, the smell dropped him down a thirty-year wormhole of memory.
Pfeffernusse. Two dozen.
He sat with the box open on his legs and laughed until he cried, then he ate pepper cookies until he couldn't stand the thought of another and thought about the elf boy who would be getting ready for the Oscars sometime soon.
Maybe it would all work out after all.
Maybe so.
Author: Rainweaver13
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Summary: Last-minute jitters
Rating/Warnings: NC-17. AU in that this takes place "now," but blithely refuses to take into account current realities.
Disclaimer: Don't own them, don't know what they do in their private lives; wouldn't want to - they are their own. This is fond fiction.
A/N: These boys just won't leave me alone.
This is a followup to a longer fic, Breathing Room, which can be found here:
Breathing Room Look under Personal Fics
Late January 2005, L.A. 4:52 a.m.
It was Viggo's car all right, the blue gas-conserving, planet-saving hybrid. And there sat Viggo, on the ground in front of the car, leaning back against the bumper, eating from a large bag of M&Ms. An open box of donuts and an extra-large coffee container sat on the ground beside him. Head leaned back against the grill and eyes half-closed, he didn't seem to have noticed Orlando's approach.
"What the bloody fuck are you doing?" Orlando asked, keeping his voice low on account of the neighbors, coming to a stop against the security gates, the bat hanging easily from one hand.
Viggo rolled his head over slightly, considered Orlando's arrival, then went back to his candy munching. "Pfeffernusse," he said thoughtfully, then repeated it because he liked the way it felt on his tongue. "Pfeffernusse."
"Have you lost your mind, y'daft hippie?" Orlando moved to one side so he could reach the keypad to open the gates. "Are you stoned?" he whispered. "You do realize you're sitting in the grass on the side of the road at five in the fucking morning." He had to pause for a moment to make sure he got the combination right, then step back as the gates swung open.
Viggo picked up the coffee cup and took a meditative sip, looking up at what he could see of the stars through the always too bright lights of L.A. It was never much. Yet another thing he hated about this fucking city; even the stars stayed away from it, probably embarrassed by the humans degrading their good name on the ground.
Orlando slipped through the opening gates and walked over to crouch beside Viggo, trying to keep on the drive as much as possible. "Viggo, love..." he said gentle, reaching out to brush rumpled hair back from the older man's face. "You're sitting on the ground and it's wet."
"'Sokay. Want a donut?"
"Not right now." Orlando considered him thoughtfully. He didn't seem particularly sad or upset, just... vague. "What's a fefernoose?"
"Cookie. My grandmother used to make them. Mortensen. In Denmark." Viggo put down the bag of candy carefully and helped himself to another donut. "Means peppernut. They had black pepper in them and some kind of liquor, and powdered sugar all over. I loved those cookies."
"And... that's why you needed donuts and candy?" Orlando guessed, leaning one shoulder against the car.
"I was dreaming. That's what woke me up. About going to Denmark when I was a kid." He licked glaze from his fingers absently.
"Good dreams?" As much as Orlando had learned about Viggo in their time together, vast chunks of the older man's life remained unknown ground. Orlando found himself fascinated by the blank spaces but wary of them as well. Here be dragons, after all, it always said on the edges of old maps of the world.
"Not so much." Viggo polished off the last of the donut and went back to the coffee. "Visits to Denmark were always... unsettling. I loved it there." Sip. "But you never knew what you'd be going back to when you left. Sometimes the same place, sometimes different. Sometimes just a different house in the same town, but one time a whole different country."
He picked up the bag of candy again and held it up toward Orlando. "Want some?"
"No, thanks. I don't like to do chocolate before breakfast."
"Your loss." Viggo dug out a handful of candies and fed them steadily into his mouth.
"So... you dreamed about going to Denmark and pepper cookies, so now you're sitting on the wet grass in the dark working on a massive sugar rush."
"I reckon."
"Vig, lover... come on back in the house. We can still get a little more sleep before we have to be up for the day." Orlando stroked the shaggy light brown hair. "I need you to keep me warm."
"I'm leaving for Spain tomorrow."
"I know. All the more reason to spend comfy time together, don't you think?" Orlando dropped the bat for a moment to pull his robe tighter around his bare legs. It was chillier in the pre-dawn hours than you'd expect.
The sound of an engine purred toward them and lights swept across them from the back of the car as an SUV passed in the darkness. Probably someone on the way to work. Both pairs of eyes watched the red taillights vanish in the distance, the brown eyes concerned, the blue ones almost angry.
"C'mon, people are starting to wake up. Y'don't want to see our picture on next week's Enquirer, do you?" Orlando kept his tone light, brushed fingertips along Viggo's stubbly jaw.
"Yeah, you're right," Viggo murmured, barely audible, and shoved himself upright, leaning over to drop the candy bag into the donut box then pick up the box and the coffee. "C'mon, I'll give you a ride home." With a little smirk of a smile, there and gone.
Moments later they were in the dark kitchen, with gates and garage doors closing behind them. Viggo tipped up the coffee cup and drained it, tossing the empty in the trash, then leaned back against the kitchen counter, looking vaguely lost.
Orlando propped the bat in a corner and walked up against Viggo, resting his head on the familiar shoulder, lips brushing light kisses to his neck. After a moment, Viggo's arms came around him and they stood pressed together without speaking.
"Were you planning to bean me with that bat?" Viggo muttered finally, one hand stroking Lan's back while the other rested atop the swell of a hip.
"If you were a robber, you were a goner," Orlando said firmly. "Nobody breaks into your house."
"Our house." Softly.
"Our house." A gentle nip at the neck. "Come to bed with me?" Orlando rocked his hips against Viggo's, pressing him back against the counter.
A momentary hesitation. "I'm not sure I... I..."
"Kiss me."
Kissing had never been a problem. Just put your lips together and melt, then boil, then erupt into flames. Orlando, picking up an odd sense of hesitation and almost fear from Viggo, took control of the kiss and poured himself into it without restraint. Both hands slid into the still sleep-rumpled hair and held Viggo tight as Orlando tried to communicate every ounce of love and support with lips and tongue alone.
They broke apart, panting, and after a moment of catching his breath Viggo whispered, "Okay," and Orlando led them through the living room and back to their bedroom. Clothing was a matter of untying one knot and shrugging for Orlando, then he moved quickly in front of Viggo and gently slid his hands up under the inside-out t-shirt, pulling it over Vig's head. Viggo just watched, bemused but making no argument, as Orlando unbuttoned his jeans and worked them down over his hips and legs. Only then did Orlando realize the crazy hippie was wearing no shoes. How did he manage to get into stores to buy his sugar fixes?
The clothes gone, he turned his attention to matters at hand and found, as he'd anticipated, not much in the way of arousal. Orlando knew that if he looked up at Viggo right now, he'd see a tight jaw and gaze fixed determinedly somewhere far away. Orlando settled to his knees and gently caressed the leanly muscled body before him, stroking it the way he'd watched Viggo stroke horses to settle them down. Only after a while did he let one hand cup Viggo's balls and leaned forward to take the soft flesh into his mouth. They'd been dealing with this for a month now, and Orlando knew some things that would work and some that wouldn't. Right now, he just wanted to get a response, any response. And there it was, a slight hardening. He tugged on it firmly, sliding his tongue around...
... And there came Viggo's hand on his head, fingers spreading into his hair, tugging him upward. As always.
Orlando stood, smiled at the still always sheepish grin, and kissed hell out of the older man, then fell backwards onto the bed. Viggo crawled on top of him...
"Don't slobber all over me."
"Bossy."
... And slathered wet slobbery kisses all over his chest...
"Disgusting! I told you-"
... And some kisses that stole all his breath away...
"Hmmph. No complaints about that."
"Wha-"
... And claimed ground between his legs to give him a tormenting, slow-motion blow job that brought him to the edge of orgasm at least a half-dozen times and left him high and dry every time before finally employing some digital assistance to take Orlando all the way over the edge of the world and into the vortex of spinning, spangling sensation.
Orlando crawled back into his body to find that it was lying in its favorite place in the world, snuggled up against Viggo's side with his head in the hollow of Viggo's shoulder. He looked up lazily to see Viggo staring at the ceiling with a very small smile on his face.
"Hey, studmuffin," Orlando purred.
"Hey yourself, beautiful." Viggo rubbed his arm gently. "You okay?"
"Better than." Orlando stirred his fingertips through the thicker than usual hair on Viggo's chest, musing mildly on how much it felt like stroking a dog... no, some larger, gentler, but potentially more dangerous beast. "Want to talk about it?"
Viggo sighed. He knew Orlando didn't mean the sex problem; they'd come to a sort of accommodation on that during the past month and while he wasn't anywhere near happy about it, at least he wasn't so terribly worried any more.
"Have you decided where you'll be staying while I'm gone?"
Orlando kept his body relaxed, his fingers gentle, knowing that the perilous ground was being approached. "Probably at the Marmont. Lynne's idea."
"Good one. They know about privacy." A small pause while hard-padded fingers drew shapes on Orlando's arm. "They can play the game, too."
"I'll be fine there."
Viggo drew in a deep breath and let it out slow. "I want to do this part, Lan. I want to play Diego Alatriste as much as I've ever wanted anything."
"I know, lover." Orlando's fingers idly circled a nipple. "And you'll be fantastic."
"I'm afraid to go to Spain." The words were so soft they were almost inaudible. "I'll be gone for nearly eight months and we've only just... " A hard swallow, and the rough fingers were digging into Orlando's arm now; Viggo's face pressed against his head, words muffled by chocolate curls. "I'll come back and you'll be moved to a different country."
Orlando's heart stuttered then took off at a gallop. So this is what the dreams were about, about moving toward one love only to lose another or have it change beyond recognition. "I'm not going to lose touch with you, Vig. I promise. I love you. You are the world to me."
Viggo's arm tightened around him, pulled him atop the newly lean body. Bruised blue eyes looked up at him in the pale gray light of earliest dawn. "I can't lose you again, Lan." The simple sentence held absolutely nothing of threat, and everything of calm prediction.
"You'll have to trust me." Orlando pressed a soft kiss to Viggo's dry lips.
"You're bigger than me," Viggo said, and it could mean any number of things, from the purely physical - Orlando's beefy Kingdom of Heaven physique literally made him bigger than Viggo's stripped-down Alatriste leanness - to the career. "You've got the power."
Orlando cupped Viggo's face in his hands and stared directly into haunted blue eyes. "I love you. I don't want anybody else. I've had my scare. You can trust me."
Viggo's face was such a mangle of love, hope and fear that Orlando wanted to just hold him forever, but that wasn't really feasible. He knew his actions in recent years had caused this lack of trust and he couldn't be angry with Viggo for not completely relying on him yet, but it was frustrating. So... when all else fails, go for humor.
"Besides, if I fuck with you again, Henry will kill me," Orlando said, shuddering at the thought.
"Yeah, well... he's a good kid." Viggo recognized the distraction for what it was, and let it go, wishing it would take all the frustrating fears crawling around in his guts with it. "You'll call me every few days?"
"On my honor."
"You'll tell me how Sidi's doing?"
"Absolutely."
"You'll let me know about any new lovers?"
"In excruciating detail."
"Bastard."
"Hey, you asked."
"I'm planning on joining the Senorita of the Week Club."
"For what? To do your laundry?"
"Hey, I'm bi. I know what to do with a woman."
"Fine. I'm off to the islands with Depp. Fear me."
"Depp's so straight these days he couldn't find his way through a maze. Be careful of his weed, though. He lays hands on some powerful shit."
Both mouths were smiling, both heads resting - one on a pillow, the other on a chest, voices growing mumbly as one sugar rush wore off and another interrupted sleep caught up.
"Whass those cookies again?"
"Pfeffernusse. Great word. Fun to say. Pfeffernusse. 's German."
"But you were in Denmark."
"So? We eat tacos."
"Huh?"
"Go t'sleep, elf boy."
"Mmmm...."
-----------------------------------------------
A week later, in Madrid, Viggo received a package from Los Angeles with no familiar return address. He almost sent it back unopened, but he was mildly bored that day so he decided to take a chance.
As soon as he opened the box, the smell dropped him down a thirty-year wormhole of memory.
Pfeffernusse. Two dozen.
He sat with the box open on his legs and laughed until he cried, then he ate pepper cookies until he couldn't stand the thought of another and thought about the elf boy who would be getting ready for the Oscars sometime soon.
Maybe it would all work out after all.
Maybe so.
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no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 01:31 am (UTC)Sorry I'm so late in giving feedback today.
I just love these two... I feel so badly for each of them, just as I did in the previous story. But I do believe that Orlando is going to have to do more than he normally did to assure Viggo that he WILL be there for him this time. As frustrating as that may be he is just going to have to suck it up and be an adult about it (which I think he learned his lesson and won't be so quick to throw away Viggo's love).
Thanks for another wonderful chapter!
no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 01:54 am (UTC)I feel kinda bad for them, too, but if they make it this time it'll be because the relationship is more balanced. Last time, Viggo was doing all the work. Orlando's learning curve is kinda droopy, but I think he's getting it, I really do. Maybe.
The trick, I suspect, will hinge on how well Viggo holds himself together under extraordinary pressure.
Thanks for writing and giving cool feedback! You rock.
Rain
Needing Tylenol