FIC: Rosso Luna 1

[bwitched83uk.livejournal.com]

Title: Rosso Luna

Author: Bwitched83uk (bwitched83uk@aol.com)

Rating: NC-17 overall.

Pairing: Viggo/Orli

Summary: AU. An artist who has lost his inspiration travels to Rome to find himself again, where he meets a young English man who will help him find his muse.

Disclaimer: This story is complete lies. This never happened. I do not know these men, nor claim to. This is a work of complete fiction for your enjoyment, I make no money from it.

Beta: The betalicious Soar38 *Kisses*

Archive: www.geocites.com/b_witched83uk

www.livejournal.com/users/bwitched83uk

Feedback: Feeds my praise addiction.

A/N: Marco was a waiter in Turkey who broke my heart when I was 15 so I'm paying him back by having Orlando punch him in the face :)

Chapter 1

 

The little bed-and-breakfast room that Viggo would be staying in for the next few weeks, was either pokey and tasteless, or quaint and charming, he had yet to decide which. The brown velvet curtains were certainly not needed in the Italian summer heat, they didn’t even close all the way.

He lit up a cigarette and moved to the open window with the ledge seat. He sat down, legs dangling out of the window, and blew the smoke out into the hot midday air. The room consisted of a double bed, too low down in Viggo’s opinion, a chest of drawers, two bedside tables and an old brown chair with a rip in it.

Viggo had been led to believe that all Italians had good taste. Viggo had clearly been lied to.

He closed his eyes and felt the sun warm his face. He had only been here for three days and already he had gotten a nice, golden tan to his skin.

He could have stayed in a nice hotel, with un-ripped chairs and a whole lot less brown, but he wasn’t here to be pampered, he wasn’t here to be comfortable. He was here to try and remember himself.

He smiled sadly as he thought about how everything in his life up to this point had been leading to this trip. He had been to Italy before, to this very city, many years ago. It had been the summer before he went to art school, he was eighteen and had backpacked his way over from Denmark, where he had been visiting his father’s family.

He had spent eight weeks in Rome, living every day as though it might be his last. His days were spent painting and his nights were spent drinking cheap wine and making love.

Viggo was an artist, he was able to see beauty for what it was. He didn’t care whether his lover had a penis or not although, there were certain things a lover with a penis could do that one without one couldn’t.

His bed was never empty but his favourite, and the most frequent of his lovers, had been a young French boy named Jean-Christophe. Viggo thought later, once they had parted ways, that he might have been a little in love with the beautiful French boy. It was the summer of ‘75 and free love was a beautiful thing.

Viggo had never felt as inspired as he did that summer, and he hadn’t ever since. He had then started school in New York and loved every second of it. Parties were a nightly event and cheap beer and wine, along with a generous helping of home grown pot, gave Viggo the inspiration he needed to turn out what his teacher described as "Far out, dark and beautiful shit, man."

Viggo had fucked him once or twice, surprisingly not to help his grades, they were doing fine by themselves, but because his teacher had introduced him to Led Zeppelin and Viggo had felt he owed him one… or two for introducing him to what was, at the time, the greatest love of his life.

Then came Chris, or Chrissie as she went by back then. She wasn’t beautiful in a classic sense, her nose was a little too big and her cheeks were a little too chubby, but she was still beautiful in her own way. She was the girl who was always smiling. When Viggo met her she had been wearing a red, velvet dress that just covered her thighs. Her long, dyed black hair was pulled off her face by a scarf being used as a headband.

She had danced around the room, pouring tequila down everybody’s throats. She was a party girl and Viggo wanted her. So he fucked her. The strange thing was, he fucked her again the next night, and the next. Soon she had practically moved into his small flat, still encouraging him to sleep with other people. It was the perfect relationship.

Viggo’s art was being sold. His ‘far out, dark, beautiful shit,’ was making a name for him amongst the art scene. The summer before he graduated, he asked Chrissie to marry him. That summer they went on a road trip to Vegas and were married by Elvis. They were so happy during those first few years. Then their son Henry had come along and they had both agreed to stop fucking around.

Viggo wasn’t entirely sure when it had happened or what had caused it, but Chris had started drinking, heavily. Viggo had taken to spending hours in his studio, painting nothing but what he thought of as crap. His agent disagreed, and so did the clueless fools who bought them, but Viggo knew they were shallow imitations of what he used to paint.

He and Chris had torn each other apart and had only decided to stay together for Henry’s sake. It was his son's last year at home, he was off to college at the end of the summer, and was currently at soccer camp, which is why Viggo was currently sitting in a too-hot room in Rome, smoking himself silly.

Live at home without Henry was something viggo was dreading. Live at home, alone, with Chris. He felt as though he had lost the man he was suposed to become. He was someone else, someone he never wanted to be.

Henry had encouraged his dad to go away for the summer, had told Viggo how much he loved him and told him to go and find his smile again. Henry was Viggo’s best friend, the best thing he had ever done. The boy was far older than his eighteen years, and knew that his dad wasn't happy, but he was afraid of what would become of his mum if his dad left. The last decade of putting up with a drunken, bitter wife was a small sacrifice to pay for his son.

This time round though, Viggo was starting off in Rome before making his way over to France for the showing of his best work to date. He was a local hero there and a gallery in Paris had borrowed or rented what was considered to be Viggo’s greatest paintings for a tribute.

There was a knock at the door and Viggo turned to face it, not bothering to get up. "Come in."

A young man in his mid-twenties put his head round the door and smiled at Viggo.

"Ah, Roberto, what can I do for you?" Viggo treated him to his most charming smile. The young man was certainly handsome and Viggo had caught himself thinking of him naked more than was probably healthy.

"Signor, my boyfriend and I are going to a club this night, a club I think you will be interested in," Roberto added with a knowing smile. He had seen the way the American had checked out his arse and had to admit to being extremely flattered. Roberto was the son of the woman who owned the bed-and-breakfast, he had helped her to run the place since his father had passed away a few years back.

"We would like for you to join us. You have been here for three days now and you have stayed in every night."

Viggo thought about it for a moment and realised he was right. He hadn’t come to Rome to sit in a too-brown room and relive his glory days, he had come to make new ones. "I would love to join you, thank you."

~~~~~~~~

"Listen you fucker, I want her back," Orlando shouted as he glared at the dark Italian.

The club was packed and the young Brit could already feel a headache coming on.

"Tough, she is staying with me," Marco glared back at Orlando and turned to walk away from him, when Orlando grabbed his shoulder and swung him back round to face him.

"She’s mine and I’ll fucking kill you to get her back."

From across the room, Viggo watched as a beautiful young man pushed and pulled at another man. He had only been here twenty minutes and already Roberto and his boyfriend had left him. He had been giving serious thought to leaving, going back to the B&B and opening a bottle of red wine, when he noticed a stunning young man start yelling.

Viggo wasn’t sure why he did it, he would probably look back tomorrow and wonder what the hell he was doing, but he found himself walking closer to the arguing pair.

The young man, who Viggo could now hear was British was threatening his ‘friend.’

"She’s happy with me, can’t you let it go?"

"You’re only keeping her to get at me you fucker. You couldn’t give a shit about her!" Orlando pushed him again and Marco punched him in the face.

Viggo gasped, as did a few of the people standing around them. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt the need to step in and defend the gorgeous, foul-mouthed creature.

"Hey, you-" Viggo grabbed the Italian’s shoulder to tell him to break it up, but was rewarded with his own punch to the face. Viggo fell backwards against a group of people who tried to help him stay on his feet.

"You fucking cunt! What is your fucking problem?" Orlando shouted as he pulled back his fist and punched Marco right in the mouth. He moved forward and kicked him in the shin before two strong hands grabbed him from behind.

Orlando turned his head, about to start fighting whoever it was that was holding him back, when he recognised the burly security guard. "Oh shit."

The three men involved in the fight were thrown out of the club and Marco was instantly dragged away by a friend, leaving Orlando and Viggo sitting on the curb in the middle of the night.

"That fucking wanker," Orlando said, his heartbeat slowing after all the excitement. "Are you alright mate?"

Viggo tried to act brave and nodded his headm, but winced when he tried to smile.

"He’s got a punch on him, I’ve been on the receiving end of enough of them to know."

Orlando moved closer to the stranger, who had stepped in to help him, and moved the man’s hand away from his jaw.

"Well, I’m no doctor, but I reckon you’ll live." The young man grinned and held out his hand. "Orlando Bloom." When the stranger looked at him, unsure if that was a joke or not, Orlando rolled his eyes. "Honestly. My mum loved Virginia Woolf just a little too much."

Viggo smiled and took Orlando’s hand gently. "Viggo Mortensen." It was Orlando’s turn to raise his eyebrows and Viggo chuckled softly. "My mum loved a Danish man a little too much."

Orlando grinned and squeezed his hand. "Thank you… you know, for back there."

Viggo looked away embarrassed. "Um, I don’t think you needed my help. You did okay on your own."

Orlando smiled at him and let go of his hand. "Yeah, but it was still nice of you to get involved."

Viggo smiled back, trapped in the boy’s chocolate brown eyes. "You’re English?"

Orlando nodded and pulled a pack of fags out of his tight jeans. He lit one up, took a couple of pulls before handing it over to Viggo, who took it and breathed it deep into his lungs.

At home he had to smoke in the back garden where Henry wouldn't catch him. He told him that he already had one parent's self-destructiveness to worry about, he didn't need another. Viggo's heart broke everytime Henry saw Chris drunk. Back home in New York the Mortensens were well thought of amoungst their group of friends, they had a very active, if not dull social life that Chris insisted they keep. Afterall, she wasn't drunk all the time, and when she was, she was good at hidding it.

"You’re clearly American," Orlando stated. "Did you come with anyone tonight or were you here alone?"

Viggo looked back at the club behind them. "I came with a couple who ditched me the second we got inside."

Orlando grinned. "They do tend to do that."

"So you were fighting with that guy over a girl?" Viggo asked, a little sad that Orlando was so obviously in love with a woman.

"Yeah. He’s such a twat, won’t even let me see her."

Viggo frowned. "Surely he can’t keep her prisoner. She can see who she wants to, surely."

Orlando looked at him and laughed. "Do you wanna see a picture of her? She’s gorgeous mate. Big brown eyes, blond hair."

Viggo nodded and Orlando removed his wallet, taking out a picture and handing it over to the older man.

Viggo studied it for a second before looking back at Orlando. "This is a dog."

Orlando laughed again and nodded his head. "She’s my girl. My Maude. And that cunt wont let me have her back. She was my fucking dog before I ever met him. He’s only using her ‘cos he wants me back, but he knows I wouldn’t piss on him if he were on fire."

"Oh," Viggo smiled before forcing himself not to look so happy. "He’s your ex-boyfriend?"

Orlando turned on the curb to look at the other man. He was handsome in an older man kind of way. He had steel blue eyes and longish sandy blond hair and his voice was hot enough to cut through butter.

"You thought I was straight? You do realise you were in a gay club don’t you mate?"

Viggo looked back at the club again. "Um, no?"

The Brit burst out laughing. "Jesus Christ, I hope you kept your back to the wall then."

Viggo frowned, not really sure what Orlando meant by that, and stood up, holding out his hand to help the younger man up.

Orlando took it and grinned at him before his face went suddenly serious. "Do you have a criminal record, Viggo?"

The American stared at him before shaking his head.

"A completely clean sheet?" Viggo nodded at the question, wondering what the hell was going to come next.

"Good, that’s good." Orlando stood quietly for a moment before nodding to himself. "Right then, let’s go."

"Um, go where exactly?" Viggo asked the already moving man. "Where are we going?"

Orlando turned back round to look at him and smiled wickedly. "We’re going to get my girl back."

Viggo stood still and stared at the beautiful young man for a few seconds before sighing in defeat and following him. Who was he kidding? Looking into those eyes he would probably do anything the younger man asked. He always was a sucker for a pretty face.

"We’re going to break into your ex’s place? That’s against the law you know."

Orlando smiled and took Viggo’s hand in his as they walked. "It’s not against the law if you have a key."

Viggo looked down at their joined hands. Orlando had taken his hand as though it were the most natural thing to do in the world.

TBC

Comments

[selene-vidae.livejournal.com]

Lovely, darling. I can't wait to read more. *smooches*

[bwitched83uk.livejournal.com]

Thanks doll.
*Smooches you back*

[jvampcat24.livejournal.com]

Phew...that was close!
For a second I thought Orli was fighting over an actual woman!
Can't wait for more!
You're quite talented!
You keep this up and I might have to actually friend you ;)

[bwitched83uk.livejournal.com]

Well I am a very good friend :)
Thanks for the feedback. Orli fighting over a woman? Over my dead body.

[obselizabeth.livejournal.com]

i'm ALWAYS looking for good friends...especially ones who write so wonderfully :) (psssst, so you're more than welcome to friend me back!)

this is a WONDERFUL plot....onward to read more :)

(oh, and i was pleasantly surprised to find that we share some mutual friends Ü)

-e

[bwitched83uk.livejournal.com]

I will certainly friend you back :)
Mutual friends huh? Which friends would they be?
Glad you're liking the story so far, more should be up soon
*hugs*

[obselizabeth.livejournal.com]

lady aurora, willowing....more....go look at your user page, our 'mutual' friends are bolded :)

thank you!

[bwitched83uk.livejournal.com]

Ah, that lot. I'll go look a the user page :)

[sparkleghost.livejournal.com]

It's great as always, but you know I love your writing!
You should write a Hayden/Orli story...I'm still holding out hope that pair may enter your repetoire!

[bwitched83uk.livejournal.com]

thanks sweetie.
As for Hayden? I think that Star Wars is possibly my least favourite thing, sorry. He is a cutey but I won't be writting him. Why don't you try writting an Orli/Hayden fic yourself? You never know, you might be able to change my mind about him :)

[sperblovorlando.livejournal.com]

viggo looks at the picture, then at Orlando. this is a dog. I love it!!
linda
sperbl@parknicollet.com

[bwitched83uk.livejournal.com]

Thanks sweetie :)

[wankers-fate.livejournal.com]

*goes off to read chapter 2*