vigorli

Author: Lara

Rating: NC17 (sigh...Depeche Mode + Orli/Viggo = yum)

Disclaimer: This is a fictional story, using real people, inspired by the movie Oceans 11. It's all made up and unreal.

Note: "In Your Room" by Depeche Mode

THE HOUSE ALWAYS WINS

Six

Three Years Earlier

“Depeche Mode?” Viggo leaned over the slender shoulder. “Who the hell are they?”

The dark curls brushed his face as the head turned. “Only one of the sexiest bands EVER.”

“They can’t be. I’ve never heard of them.”

“And you’re the Sex Music Police?”

“Yes.” Viggo took the cd and put it in his basket. “Let’s go try it out.”

Viggo contained himself the entire way back to his apartment. His companion, however, did not seem to grasp the idea of containing oneself. “I wanna suck you while you drive. Can I?”

“Orlando,” Viggo growled. “I’m driving.”

“I’m not.” Orlando’s hand slid up Viggo’s thigh. Viggo actually squeaked as he felt his zipper being pulled down. Orlando chuckled, then zipped it back up. “Just kidding.” He laid his head down on Viggo’s lap and smiled up adoringly.

“You’re a brat.”

“But you love me,” Orlando said, and Viggo could only nod. There were no words to describe how much he loved Orlando Bloom.

They reached the apartment and Orlando actually made it into the building without touching Viggo. Viggo unlocked the door and looked at Orlando expectantly. “Well?”

“Sit.” Orlando shoved Viggo onto the armchair and began to fight with the plastic wrapped around the cd. Orlando actually growled as he finally used his teeth.

“Neanderthal,” Viggo said, but laughed as he said it. Slender, pretty Orlando was nothing like a caveman.

“There,” Orlando muttered, opening the case and taking out the cd. He put it in Viggo’s stereo and turned up the volume. He smiled at Viggo innocently.

In your room, where time stands still or moves at your will…Will you let the morning come soon? Or will you leave me lying here in your favorite darkness, your favorite half-light, your favorite consciousness…your favorite slave.

Viggo stared at Orlando as Orlando began to undress. The slender hands moved slowly, drawing out the suspense. Even though Viggo knew quite well what was under the tight tshirt and black jeans, he still loved to watch it appear.

In your room where souls disappear, only you exist here, will you lead me to your armchair? Or leave me lying here…your favorite innocent, your favorite prize, your favorite smile… your favorite slave.

Orlando straddled Viggo’s legs, sitting naked on Viggo’s waist as he unbuttoned Viggo’s shirt. Orlando nipped at Viggo’s neck as Viggo’s broad chest was revealed. Viggo wove his hands through Orlando’s curls as they kissed.

I’m hanging on your words, living on your breath, feeling with your skin, will I always be here?

Orlando moved to the floor, pulling Viggo’s jeans with him. Viggo was so aroused that he hardly even noticed Orlando pulling the denim down. Orlando raised an eyebrow when he saw Viggo wasn’t wearing underwear, but he didn’t say anything. He ran his hands softly up and down Viggo’s bare thighs, then moved in to engulf Viggo’s cock with his mouth. Viggo hissed and arched up.

In your room your burning eyes cause flames to arise. Will you let the fire die down soon? Or will I always be here? Your favorite passion, your favorite game, your favorite mirror…Your favorite slave.

Orlando moved up to sit on Viggo’s lap again. He held out his palms, and Viggo covered them with his tongue, wetting them quickly. He felt one hand go to his cock as the other stayed at his mouth. Orlando took turns with his hands, getting one wet as the other stroked, until he seemed to be satisfied. He reached down and guided Viggo to him.

“No!” Viggo whispered. “I’m not wearing…”

“Shh,” Orlando said, moving slowly over and onto Viggo. “It’s okay.”

“Viggo?” Sean Bean said.

“Huh?” Viggo blinked. “Oh, uh, you asked about Karl Urban and Orlando? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What’s this?” Sean held up the poem.

“You’re looking through my things?” Viggo tried to act insulted.

“What’s this?” Sean repeated.

“Just something I was working on?”

Sean read the poem again, silently, finally saying, “I close my eyes, I’d give away my soul to hold you once again, and never let this promise end.” He looked Viggo in the eye. “Don’t fuck with me, Vig.”

Viggo sat down on the sofa, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “Okay, so maybe Orlando is…a friend of Karl Urban’s.”

“A friend?”

“A good friend. A good friend who happens to bend over a table naked whenever Urban asks,” Viggo said bitterly.

“Don’t hold back, Vig, tell me what you really think,” Sean said wryly, sitting down next to Viggo.

Viggo sighed. “I found out about them in jail. I couldn’t believe it at first, then realized it made total sense. Urban loves pretty things. What’s prettier than Orlando?”

“I thought it was over for you two,” Sean said.

“It’s over for Orlando. It’s never been over for me.”

<lj-cut>