Pygmalion 7/17

[zebraljb.livejournal.com]

Author: zebraljb
Rating: G to NC17
Disclaimer: I've used real people in a fictional story. The story was written with love and affection, and without any kind of malice.



About an hour later, the bathroom door opened. Viggo quickly jumped up from the sofa. He had been watching television, or at least looking at it. It was good for a distraction, if nothing else. Orlando walked out of the bathroom, followed by a shy Elijah, who was swimming in a t-shirt and sweatpants of Viggo’s. “How’re we doing?”

“I feel better,” Elijah said. He still looked as if he had been run over by a train, but he looked a little less scared.

“Are you hungry?”

“Viggo makes a mean omelet,” Orlando told him.

“That’d be fine.” Elijah slowly walked over and sat at the table. Orlando sat across from him as Viggo began to get the ingredients together.

“Are you a vegetarian, too?” Viggo asked. “I can throw some sausage in.”

“Whatever,” Elijah said. He looked at Orlando, who was drumming his fingers on the table. “Don’t start.”

“What?” Orlando was the picture of innocence.

“You wanna yell at me.”

“I don’t wanna yell at you, ‘Lij,” Orlando insisted. He reached over and grabbed Elijah’s hand. “I’m worried about you. Do you see why, now?”

“It was good money,” Elijah said softly. “Woulda paid the rent.”

“You’re behind on the rent?” Viggo turned to look at Orlando, who shrugged.

“I owed some money to someone. Finally got him paid off, and the rent was the sacrifice to do it.”
“You said money was good this week,” Viggo said accusingly.

“I think it’s really none of your business,” Orlando shot back. Viggo nodded and turned back around, shoulders sagging. Elijah glared at Orlando and kicked him under the table.

“These look great,” Elijah said when Viggo sat two plates on the table. “Thank you so much, Viggo. You didn’t need to do this.”

“No, I didn’t,” Viggo said, looking Orlando in the eye. “I’m gonna go shower now. If you need anything, yell.” Viggo went into the bathroom without another word.

“You’re an asshole,” Elijah snapped at Orlando as the bathroom door closed.

“What?” Orlando said. “What did I do?”

“He didn’t have to take us in, Orli. But he did. Know why? Because he likes you. He cares about you.”

“I’m just another shag to him, Elijah,” Orlando said quietly. “Don’t think he’s some kinda Prince Charming, because he’s not. Tomorrow we’ll go back to our lives, and when he wants a lay, he’ll find me.”

“Seems he finds you an awful lot, Orli. And I bet he doesn’t always go begging for a shag, right?” Elijah asked. Orlando didn’t answer. “Quit being a damn git.”

“Quit talking Brit. You’re a Yank,” Orlando said, but he smiled as he said it.

Elijah finished the last bites of his omelet, then yawned. “I’m beat.” He looked startled at his unconscious pun, then actually laughed out loud. “In more ways than one.”

Orlando got up and put their plates in the sink. “Sofa looks comfy.”

“At least it’s clean,” Elijah said. He stood behind the sofa. “I’ve slept on worse.”

They were still looking down at the sofa when Viggo came out of the bathroom. “What’s going on?”

“We’re fighting over who gets the sofa and who gets the floor,” Elijah said. “Orli has a bad back and should take the sofa.”

“Elijah got the shit kicked outta him, and should take the sofa,” Orlando said.

“Both of you should take the bed and Viggo should take the sofa,” Viggo said. “Go. Sleep in my bed.”

“But…” Elijah began.

“You’re exhausted, and the bed is best for you. GO.” Viggo pointed to the bed. “I wanna get some rest, and arguing isn’t resting.”

“Thank you,” Elijah whispered. He crossed the room to the bed.

“Yeah, uh, thanks,” Orlando said softly. Viggo nodded silently and went to turn off all the lights.


Viggo sat up an hour later, still awake. He turned on a light in the kitchen, and used its brightness to find his way back to his bed. He needed another pillow, and he kept them in the deep drawers under his bed. He started to bend down to open the drawer, looking up at the bed. He froze, then slowly stood up. Orlando and Elijah were snuggled close together, with Elijah’s back against Orlando’s chest. Orlando had a protective arm thrown around Elijah’s waist, as if reassuring Elijah that no one would hurt him again, not even in his sleep. Viggo forgot about the pillow and went to find his sketchpad.

After turning on a few more lights in the living area, Viggo padded back over to the bed. He leaned against the wall, quickly moving his pencil across the paper. They both looked so lost and lonely, as if the bed, and sleep, were their only lifeboats in the sea of danger that was the waking world. Finally satisfied with what he had drawn, Viggo bent down, got a pillow, and snuck back to the sofa.

He had turned out all the lights and was just getting comfortable when he heard a pair of bare feet scuffling across his hardwood floor. He frowned in the darkness. He hoped he hadn’t wakened either of them. He felt someone kneel in front of the sofa. “Orli? Elijah? Is everything okay?” Viggo whispered.

“Yes,” he heard Orlando whisper back. “I was lonely.”

“You looked comfy enough,” Viggo said, then mentally shook himself. He sounded almost jealous.

“I was lonely for you.” Viggo felt Orlando’s slender legs straddle him, and he turned to lay on his back. He rested his hand on Orlando’s thigh and realized he was naked.

“Orli…”

“Shhh,” Orlando said, putting a finger over Viggo’s mouth. “Elijah.”

“You don’t need to do this, Orli. I don’t need payment.”

“This isn’t for payment.” Viggo was shocked when Orlando leaned down to kiss him. “This is for me.”

Orlando quickly slid Viggo’s pants down and tossed them to the floor. He must’ve remembered where Viggo kept lubricant and condoms, because they were magically at hand. Orlando moved down to suck Viggo’s cock, and Viggo could barely keep his moans quiet. His hands fisted in Orlando’s hair as Orlando’s talented mouth moved over him. Suddenly Orlando moved back up, slid a condom onto Viggo, and slowly slid down, before Viggo knew what was happening.

“Orli,” Viggo whispered.

“God, Viggo…” Orlando moaned, fingernails lightly scratching down Viggo’s chest. “No one else…like being with you…”

“God, baby.” The endearment slipped out unknowingly as Viggo grabbed Orlando’s waist. The only sounds in the dark loft were their quiet groans and panting breaths. Viggo reached down to stroke Orlando, and Orlando let out a small squeak. Viggo thrust up, coming hard and fast. Orlando arched his back, shooting onto Viggo’s chest. He slowly moved to let Viggo fall out of him, then collapsed onto Viggo’s chest.

“I’m afraid,” Orlando said in a whisper. Viggo kissed his forehead.

“It’s late. Go clean up and get back in bed, okay? We can talk about this another time.” It took everything Viggo had to release Orlando. Orlando gave him another passionate kiss, then tiptoed to the bathroom.

Viggo waited until he heard Orlando climb back into bed with Elijah before he himself got up and went into the bathroom. He closed the door but didn’t turn on the light. He leaned against the door, wondering how in the world he had gotten himself in so deep.


Viggo didn’t sleep well that night. As soon as the sun came up, he got up and went into his kitchen. He read the paper, but didn’t really remember what he had read. Orlando and Elijah were still curled up in a ball in the bed. Viggo could barely look at them. It hurt his heart too much.

He was setting up an easel near the kitchen table when he heard the lock turn on the front door. For a moment he wondered if it was the men who had hurt Elijah. Maybe they had followed them. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a butcher knife. If it WAS them, he’d be ready. When the door opened, the knife dropped with a clatter.

“Hello, Vig,” Sean said, smiling cheerfully.