vigorli

Author: zebraljb
Rating: G to NC17
Disclaimer: I made this all up, except for a quick nod to a scene from "Pretty Woman."

“Hey, Charlie.” Viggo put the phone between his shoulder and his chin. “How are ya?”

“My God, is this the long lost moody as hell artist I used to know?” A voice crowed in his ear. Viggo grinned and dabbed some paint on the canvas.

“The one and only. Hey…you got any free time on Friday?”

“This Friday? You’re in luck. My ten to close guy bailed on me. Was supposed to be doing piano. You in the mood to tickle the ivories?”

“That’s music to my ears, Charlie?”

The man on the other end groaned, and Viggo grinned again. “Bad, Vig. Very bad joke. I’ll see you at nine-thirty on Friday.”

“I really don’t feel like going out,” Elijah whined. Orlando tugged at his shirt.

“We’re off, ‘Lij. We need to have some fun.”

“We’re never really off,” Elijah grumbled, and it was true. Even if they decided to go to a club, if the possibility was there to make some money, they’d do it. It was the nature of their profession. “I’d rather be sleeping.”

“You can sleep anytime. C’mon.” Orlando led the way down the sidewalk to the city’s busiest street. He was worried about Elijah. He wanted him to smile, to have fun. He wanted the shadows in Elijah’s bright blue eyes to go away for even an hour. “What do you want to do?”

“Let’s go someplace quiet. Listen to some music,” Elijah suggested. Orlando looked at him in surprise. He hadn’t expected Elijah to actually suggest something.

“Music it is. I know there are a few good jazz bars down on the left.”

The club was over half full when Viggo sat down at the piano. He could have cared less. Once he got his fingers on a decent set of keys, everything else faded away. He would play the usual jazz and blues standards, but now and then he’d throw in something original. The crowd was obviously a group that appreciated music that night, because he had to empty his tip jar twice by midnight.

“You really need to come down here more often, Vig,” Charlie said, removing Viggo’s empty water bottle and replacing it with a soda. “You’re a money magnet for me!”

Viggo chuckled. “Only when the inspiration hits me, Charlie, you know that.” It wasn’t often that Viggo felt the need to express himself through music. It wasn’t permanent enough for him. But when the demons were chasing him, it was the silky coldness of a piano that soothed him the best.

“Let’s go in here,” Elijah suggested, looking up at the sign above the door.

“Take Five,” Orlando read. “Sounds safe enough.”

They ducked through the doorway. A man appeared out of nowhere. “Identification?” Orlando handed over his ID and the man gave it a quick glance. He took longer with Elijah’s card, and Orlando held his breath. Elijah’s fake ID was a good one, but sometimes it felt as if their luck was running good for far too long. “Okay. Go in. Enjoy yourselves.”

Elijah nodded and Orlando let out his breath. “Over there. In the corner.” Elijah gave Orlando a shove and they headed for a tiny table to the left of the stage. Orlando stopped walking as he saw who was behind the piano.

Viggo’s head was bent down as he concentrated. Every once in a while his eyes were closed, as if the music was controlling him instead of he playing the music. The song was something Orlando had heard before, but never with such passion behind it. Orlando snapped out of his trance and quickly followed Elijah. “I’ll get the first round,” he said quickly. Elijah sat and Orlando headed for the bar. “Two beers,” Orlando told him. “Whatever you pull is fine.”

“Sure thing.” The bartender got two chilled glasses from a fridge behind him.

“That guy’s good,” Orlando said.

“Who, Viggo?” The bartender said. “Yeah. I get him down here whenever I can. He doesn’t play much, usually just when he’s in a shitty mood…like when he got dumped. That kinda thing. I don’t mind though; he brings me in lotsa paying customers.”

Orlando smiled, handed over his money, and returned to the table. “Orli,” Elijah began. “Isn’t that the guy you saw at the river that day?”

“How did you remember that?” Orlando asked, surprised. They met a lot of men.

“I just do. He looked…nice.”

“He was…is,” Orlando corrected himself.

“How many times did you…”

“Twice,” Orlando answered.

“He’s really good,” Elijah said softly.

“He paints…draws…writes poetry, too,” Orlando said absently. It was some sort of weird fate, seeing Viggo like this. It was as if this time he was in Viggo’s world, instead of the other way around.

Elijah gave Orlando a worried look. “Orli.”

“Hmm?” Orlando asked, his eyes never leaving the stage.

“You don’t like him, do you?”

Orlando turned to look at Elijah. “Of course not. I mean, he’s a nice guy and everything, but he’s just another paying customer.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Elijah,” Orlando said with a laugh. “God, you sound like my dad or something.”

“I worry about you.” Elijah frowned.

“Stop. It’s my job to worry about you, mate, okay?”

Orlando turned back to the stage, telling himself that Viggo really was just another customer.

Charlie walked up to Viggo at two in the morning. “You’re incredible. Can’t you just work here every night?”
Viggo smiled. “Sorry, Charlie, but no. You know that.”

“You pull ‘em in here like crazy, Vig.” Charlie handed Viggo a few large bills, which he tucked into his jeans pocket. “I’m closing up. Want anything else?”

“No. Would you mind if I stayed for a while? I got something in my brain that I need to work on.”

“Sure. Key’s on the bar, lock up, okay?”

Viggo nodded and turned back to the keyboard.

Orlando approached the bartender as he walked away from the stage. “Excuse me…”

“We’re closed, kid. Why are you still here?”

“I know Viggo. Can I at least say hi to him?”

Charlie looked him over and grinned. He didn’t look like Viggo’s usual type. Nothing like that last Brit he had hooked up with. “Sure, kid. Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” Orlando slowly walked up to the stage. “Viggo.”

Viggo looked down and the music stopped. “Orlando?”

“Hey.” Orlando leaned against the stage and grinned. “You’re something else.”

“What are you doing here?” Viggo hissed.

Orlando’s smile faltered for a minute, then he looked around. “Well, last time I checked, even whores are allowed in public places.”

Viggo closed his eyes. “I am SO sorry. That came out wrong. I am just really surprised to see you.”

“Me and Elijah came in to listen to some music. I didn’t know you’d be here.” Orlando seemed to relax. “You’re amazing.”

“Thank you,” Viggo said with a shrug. “Is Elijah still here?”

“Nah. He was tired. He left about one.” Orlando hopped up to sit on the stage by the piano. “That stuff at the end…was that something I should know?”

“No. It was my own stuff.” Viggo ran a hand up and down the keys. “Every now and then music builds up in my brain, and I have to let it out.”

Orlando stood to stand behind Viggo. He began to massage Viggo’s shoulders. “Like when you’re depressed or something?”

“Who said I’m depressed?” Viggo asked.

“The bartender.”

Viggo snorted. “Charlie needs to mind his own business.”

Orlando’s hands worked in deeper and Viggo moaned. “Maybe I could help you work some of that depression out.” Orlando walked over and wiggled himself in-between Viggo and the piano. Viggo pushed the piano bench back slightly, and Orlando stood between his knees, leaning back against the keyboard. Viggo opened his mouth to speak, but Orlando shushed him with a finger on his lips. Orlando turned a bit, reached into the tip jar, and shoved a handful of bills into his pocket. “Consider yourself paid in advance.”

Viggo moaned again, pulling Orlando towards him. His mouth met Orlando’s stomach, and he shoved at Orlando’s shirt until he could reach bare skin. Orlando hissed as Viggo’s mouth slid up to lap at a nipple. “You have been driving me fucking crazy,” Viggo admitted. He knew he shouldn’t be saying it, but at this point, he didn’t care. “I can’t get you out of my mind.” His fingers opened Orlando’s belt and he shoved down Orlando’s jeans. Orlando was hard already, and Viggo smiled bitterly. He wondered what sort of things Orlando had to tell himself to get it up for any man who paid him. “You’re a dream and a nightmare all in one.”

Orlando grabbed his jeans at the last minute, rescuing a condom and lube from the pockets. “Guess you’ll just have to fuck me right outta your head, won’t ya, love?” Orlando whispered, biting at Viggo’s neck.

Viggo groaned loudly, pushing at his own stubborn jeans. He hoisted Orlando up onto the keyboard, and Orlando hissed at the coldness of the keys on his backside. Viggo quickly prepared himself, lifted Orlando up, and thrust inside.

Viggo thought the sound of Orlando’s ass hitting the keys as he fucked him was probably the most beautiful music he had ever created.