vigorli

Title: A Touch of Orlando. Part 6/7
Author: Artemis Allen
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Orlando/Viggo (mention of other partners)
Beta: And banner maker

silvan_lady; Thank you.
I may have tampered with it because I can’t leave well alone, so all mistakes are mine.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
Word Count: 3,075
Summary: And let me take a long last look, before we say good bye
Notes: I have shamelessly ‘borrowed’ the main plot from a film but I have reworked it so that it’s nowhere near as smart and funny as the original and Orlando probably won't get an Oscar for it. Anyway, apologies to anyone who is at all unhappy about this travesty.

TOO

Earlier Parts

Chapter 6

“Just how big is your fucking office?” Orlando asked.

Viggo’s small apartment was not at all how Orlando had imagined it would be but then again, he reminded himself, Americans had different concepts about size. The apartment was on the third floor of a large building, not quite in Soho but close by on one of the less busy streets in the Covent Garden area. It was modern and smart; there was a decent sized open plan kitchen/dining/sitting room, a large double bedroom with fitted wardrobes and a wet room.

“It’s very big,” Viggo replied with a grin. “I’m very important.”

This didn’t really help to put Orlando at his ease. It was Wednesday evening, the week after they had returned from Northumberland; they had dined at the Shakespeare again and Orlando now understood why Viggo ate there regularly; there were a few essentials in the fridge and some other very random items in the kitchen cupboards but you would have had to be Cordon Bleu Bloom himself to have constructed a meal out of them. The stock of alcohol was better but the wines and spirits all looked expensive so when Viggo asked Orlando if he would like a drink he was initially minded to ask for a glass of water. He settled for, “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

Viggo poured them both a glass of red wine and put the glasses on the low table in front of the sofa before sitting down on it. Orlando was surprised, after the tour of the apartment he’d expected them to move straight to the bedroom. He checked his watch. “My last train is at eleven,” he said.

Viggo looked confused. “Where are you going?”

“Well, home.”

“Why?”

“I thought you’d expect me to leave, you know, afterwards.”

“Of course I don’t expect you to leave, I want you to stay the night, I thought that was understood.”

“Oh, I thought… erm… I would just be here for….”

“My convenience?” Viggo suggested drolly.

“Yes.”

Viggo sighed, “Perhaps we should have talked more last Friday, rather than having all the sex.”

“Perhaps,” Orlando acknowledged.

Their last night in bed together in Northumberland had begun a little awkwardly after the hostile negotiations over dinner. Orlando had still been mad at himself for agreeing so easily and yet ridiculously happy that he would be seeing more of Viggo; but Viggo had been more attentive that night, almost softer, almost romantic; Orlando had been half convinced that this might be love or at the very least that Viggo might be starting to care for him. During their Saturday night stopover in Doncaster the sex, although satisfying, had been perfunctory and he had revised his expectations accordingly.

“Sit down.” Viggo patted the sofa. “And we’ll try to agree on some things, yeah?”

Orlando sat down beside Viggo and waited for the older man to begin. “So?” he queried after a period of silence between them.

Viggo shook his head, laughing. “I don’t know, Orlando, I’m not sure how this works either.”

“Well, that’s not helpful,” Orlando chuckled, leaning in towards the other man and nudging him playfully. Viggo slipped an arm around his shoulders and Orlando stiffened; he wasn't sure he could cope with demonstrations of affection, it would lead him to hope.

“Alright, let’s go for the basics.” Viggo picked up his wine and took a mouthful. “I’d like to see you, as often as is practicable. Practicable for both of us that is. And when you come here I’d like you to stay over. But only if you want to. I’m not insisting on it.”

Orlando wasn’t sure how to respond, he’d expected rules not options. He thought it over; just being here at all was a capitulation he hadn’t meant to happen; but he was here and he was now so invested in this that he would take Viggo on any terms. Viggo did not need to know that of course, and he still wanted to assert himself in this arrangement. “Can I leave a few things here, essentials, you know, like a toothbrush and clean underwear?”

“Yes, of course, that would be sensible.”

“Can I bring groceries?”

“Why?”

“I like to cook. Can I cook here?”

“Er, sure.”

“Can I bring fluffy scatter cushions and a potted palm?”

Viggo’s eyebrows shot up and Orlando felt his lover’s body tense. “I’m joking,” he said, laughing.

Viggo laughed too, then he stroked Orlando’s cheek with his thumb. “You know what, bring whatever you like.”

Somehow, this was worse than Viggo saying no. He should have walked out, he really should have walked out.

******************************************************

“Orlando! Orlando, Darling!”

It was a Tuesday morning in early Autumn and Orlando was crossing Leicester Square on his way back to the design studios. He’d been to pick up some fabric samples from the manufacturer and he had a bag in each hand so he was unable to prevent Cate from embracing him and kissing him effusively on both cheeks.

“Hello Cate,” he said, when he was finally able to pull away, “what are you doing in town? Business or pleasure?”

“Oh, business, Darling,” she groaned, “always business. How are you?”

“I’m good.” He smiled back at her.

“You certainly look good.” Cate seemed to be studying him closely. “Do you have time for a coffee?”

“Oh, well, er, yes, why not.” Orlando knew that Stefan would be meeting with a client till lunchtime and no one else would miss him. Cate was smiling engagingly and he remembered her as fun company and not at all the ogre Viggo had suggested her to be.

When they were settled with their drinks in the corner of a small café and Orlando had refused to let Cate look in his bags, she sat back laughing and said, “I’m really pleased I’ve run into you again. You intrigued me. I looked you up of course, apparently, as I had guessed, you’re an exciting young designer who is expected to go far.”

Orlando blushed but smiled. “I’m getting too old to be a young designer really, but I love what I do and I work hard at it.”

“Yes, I’m sure you do.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “And how is your friend?”

“My friend?”

“The man you were with at Souris Mort. You’d had an argument. Did you make up?”

Orlando blushed a shade deeper. “Er, yes, yes we did.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Cate smiled but it was a tight little smile. “You’re not still seeing him though, I assume.”

Orlando hesitated. “Well, yes, I am, it’s just casual though, really, you know.”

“Hmmm.” Cate’s eyes narrowed again. “Well, if you’re alright with that and as long as you’re happy.” She leant forward and fixed him with her piercing gaze. “Are you happy with it, Darling?”

Orlando wondered if she was about to interrogate him about his sex life; Viggo had insisted that she was scary, but surely he’d only meant in business situations. It was a pertinent question though. Was he happy?

Over the Summer, he and Viggo had fallen into a sort of routine. Viggo sometimes had to travel and Orlando had to attend fashion shows abroad but if they were both in London he would stay at the apartment on Tuesday or Wednesday nights and, whenever possible, on Sunday afternoons through to Monday morning. There were also, inevitably, the occasional snatched lunchtime quickies; especially if one of them had been away and they felt the need to see each other. They didn’t go out together in London, except for dinners or lunches at the Shakespeare and even those were fewer now because Orlando enjoyed cooking and it was cosier to eat at the apartment. They had spent a couple of weekends away in the country though; at hotels that either had, or were close to, golf courses so that they could play a few rounds. After that first evening in the apartment when Viggo had seemed so comfortable with their arrangement Orlando had thought that the enthusiasm he had demonstrated might escalate, might turn into something else but Viggo had subsequently retreated somehow; he obviously enjoyed Orlando’s company, and the sex was great but they were more like friends with benefits; it was all very… pleasant, and it was exactly what Orlando had expected, wasn’t it?

“I’m not unhappy.” He shrugged and smiled.

“Hmmm,” Cate repeated, her eyes narrowing further. “I think you’re the kind of person who would be much happier in a steady relationship. I can see you picking out furnishings for your home, or picnicking in the park, or strolling hand in hand with your partner on your way to the pub or to see friends.”

Orlando could see it too; damn the woman; that was exactly what he wanted but he knew it was never going to be with Viggo. He tried to dismiss these thoughts and deflect Cate. “Do you maybe have a brother or a cousin you’d like to set me up with?” he asked with a wry grin. It was a situation he had often faced; people always wanted to set you up with their, newly out of the closet, relatives.

“Oh, Darling, if only I had,” Cate laughed gaily. “But I’m sure you must meet plenty of gorgeous young men here in London.”

This too was true. He still went out with Dom and his other friends, especially on Friday and Saturday nights and through work there were invitations to parties and events almost every evening if he cared to accept them. And there had been plenty of approaches recently from men who, in other circumstances, he might have considered taking to his bed, or at least out for coffee but during the few minutes he allowed them to give him their pitch he compared them to Viggo and they were always found wanting; in some ways this surprised him, he had never been seriously involved with an older man before. He was also increasingly certain that eventually Viggo would tire of him so he knew that he should be actively looking for a future partner; but the more time he spent with Viggo, the more his feelings for the man deepened; he was a hopeless case. There had been no indication from Viggo that this was anything but convenient sex and the sex was good, well, better than good, but the glimmer of affection that Orlando had thought he’d detected on their first evening together in London had not developed into anything deeper.

“I’m absolutely spoilt for choice,” he said with a totally false, coy giggle.

Cate’s smile was equally false, but before she could say anything there was a buzz from her watch; she checked it and sighed in annoyance. “I have to go, Darling, I would take you to dinner but I’m booked on the six o’clock train north. But maybe we could do it next time I’m in town?”

“Sure,” Orlando agreed readily. He was relieved that this interview was over and was fully intending to be unavailable if the dinner invitation ever came.

That evening Orlando was just taking a lasagne out of the oven when Viggo arrived at the apartment. He walked straight past Orlando to the drinks cabinet without making eye contact and immediately poured himself a neat scotch. Problems at work Orlando assumed, given the deep frown and disappearance of the scotch in one gulp. He sought an amusing diversion.

“Guess what! I saw Cate today, in Leicester Square, we had coffee,” he said brightly. Then he embroidered. “She tried to set me up with her cousin.”

Viggo poured himself another scotch. “I know,” he said heavily. “I had lunch with her.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

Viggo laughed harshly, “No, it wasn’t nice at all. We had some ongoing business matters to discuss but when Cate invites you to discuss these things over lunch it’s usually because she wants something else that you hadn’t anticipated. You agree to go, because it would be unwise to refuse, desperately hoping that she doesn’t want your balls.” He swallowed the second scotch. “But on this occasion, she did.”

“What? Surely it wasn’t that bad, it’s just business.”

Viggo dropped onto the sofa and stared into his empty glass. “Oh, it really was,” he said with a humourless laugh. “Because it turned out it wasn't just business she wanted to discuss.”

The penny dropped in Orlando’s brain. “Oh! No! Does she know about us? I didn’t tell her anything, I swear.”

“You didn’t have to,” Viggo said. “She already knew. That night we ran into her, I was so fucking relieved to have closed the deal on our original terms and so fucking mad at you for being an ungrateful, uptight, British prick, that I didn’t take any real notice of what was going on.”

“But we didn’t do anything, we barely spoke, you scowled at me for the entire hour. You and Cate just talked about aeroplane engines and ignored me.”

Viggo laughed again. “Yeah, and that was the mistake I made.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ve known Cate for a long time. We are very friendly rivals and, I’m not going to apologise for this but, she knows my M O. That evening she’d found this charming young man who’d apparently fallen out with his friend and then I arrived clearly in need of some stress relief. When she introduced us she was really presenting you to me on a fucking platter as a gift and I didn’t accept you. It must have taken her all of ten seconds to work out that I was the friend.”

“Oh, fuck!” Orlando said, slumping down beside Viggo. “Is she threatening to tell someone? Your boss? Your wife?”

Viggo shook his head. “She knows damn well that wouldn’t bother me, they are both as aware of my preferences as she is. No, I knew she had something serious on her mind. It was a very expensive restaurant. I have no idea how she even managed to get a table but at least she had the decency to conclude our business and then wait for the coffee before she gave me the extended lecture on how I was ruining your life. She told me, very forcibly, that if I cared about you at all, I should give you up because, obviously, there is no future for you with me.”

“But you just said she tried to set us up.”

“Yeah, but for the night, Orlando, just for the night.”

“What if I don’t want to be given up,” Orlando said forcefully, shuffling closer so that he could lean against Viggo’s arm. He was aware that the man hadn’t actually looked at him since he’d walked in, he was very afraid that Viggo had already made up his mind.

“Oh, she was very clear on that eventuality. What you might think you want is irrelevant and it’s my responsibility to persuade you that this is over.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Viggo,” Orlando said, grasping his lover’s chin and turning his head so that they were facing. “I’m here because I want to be.”

“I know you are,” Viggo replied, still trying to avoid Orlando’s eyes. “But that doesn’t mean Cate is wrong, does it?”

“It’s my choice,” Orlando repeated firmly but his stomach was churning. Of course Cate was right, there was no future for him here.

Viggo pulled away from him and leant back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. “I should never have let this happen. That first meeting in the park; I knew you were trouble, I could literally see you thinking, arrogant, fucking, American; he thinks he rules the world.”

“What! Just because I wouldn't give you your ball back.”

“Yeah, you are that transparent.”

“But you kept looking at me.”

“Of course I did, have you any idea how attractive you are? And you were looking right back with those fuck me eyes. I had a hard time walking away. But when I saw you that day on the bus, you looked sadder somehow.”

“I was sort of pondering lost opportunities,” Orlando said truthfully.

“Yeah,” Viggo sighed, “we all regret those. And that’s exactly what happened in the taxi. I realised you weren’t the submissive type that I usually go for because it makes life so much easier, but there was still something about you that intrigued me. I managed to restrain myself until you decided to argue about the fare and then I thought; it would be such a shame if I didn’t take the chance. And again you are transparent, I could see you were waiting for me to make a move.”

“I…,” Orlando began, “I suppose I was, but I was going to turn you down.”

“I know you were and that just added to your attraction and I gave you every opportunity to do it over lunch but you didn't, and by the time we left the Shakespeare that afternoon I wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”

Orlando’s pulse was thundering in his ears; was Viggo admitting that there was more to this than a passing attraction… and yet. “So, now you’re going to end this just because Cate says so?”

“I’m ending it because I should never have started it in the first place.”

Orlando sat for a few moments, upright, rigid, his fingers gripping his knees, trying to fight down the urge to scream at his lover. But Viggo was right they should never have started this; Orlando should have resisted, in the taxi, in the restaurant, in Northumberland, at every point when Viggo made a suggestion Orlando should have said no. But he hadn’t and now there were two options. He could leave, like he should have done all those other times or he could tell Viggo he loved him and beg him not to end this. Then he realised; Viggo had kept saying he was transparent, so presumably Viggo already knew how he felt; that’s why he was acting so fucking guilty. Viggo had just wanted sex and he’d exploited Orlando’s feelings for him to get it.

“You’re a bastard,” Orlando said finally, standing up.

“I’m an arrogant, fucking, American bastard,” Viggo said, “and you knew that all along.”

Grabbing his jacket off the peg Orlando moved towards the door and yanked it open. “Yes,” he said bitterly, “I just didn't realise how much of one.” Then he slammed the door behind him.