vigorli

Title: Something else.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Length: 300 words

And then the world ends.

There's just the two of them, and suddenly they've never been less alone. Viggo's soup is only half gone, and Orlando's plate is full of crumbs. Waiters and waitresses continue to scurry to and fro, discreet and oblivious. Other people in the restaurant stand out more vibrantly than before; the children sound louder when their words stop making sense and couples look sharper, incongruous. Viggo is half-smiling.

Today's stories have been rehashed, the best jokes retold, the presumptuous garcon put in his place. And now there's nothing left to talk about. Nothing left to discuss but what happens after the end. Orlando notices the half-smile and tries to deny it. There's always something else for us to talk about, always something else. He hadn't expected it to be like this. Never thought there wouldn't be another something else. He hasn't managed to find out the honest identity of Viggo's favorite novel, they've yet to plan out the projected visit to Chicago, there are at least 17 songs whose real meanings have yet to be adequately disputed, and there's nothing.

"Nothing? As in, just me and my birthday suit and maybe a few trinkets kind of nothing? Didn't think that was your style, mate."

"Nothing as in no background. Just you and everything you're wearing at the moment." It's hard to tell when Viggo's amused if he doesn't want you to know.

"Oh. Right." Orlando wasn't sure when the joke had stopped. Wasn't sure why it would have. Wasn't sure about Viggo.

But Viggo's kisses are very decisive.

It's thundering outside. The clouds are close together, ominous. Orlando clears the curve from Viggo's mouth with his lips. "Want you." It's all Viggo's ever had to say. The rain falls.

"The pictures are beautiful."

A world begins.

Feedback is marvelous.