vigorli

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: Makes Viggo and Orli horny.

Chapter 4

The first man to let Orlando down had been his dad. Of course it wasn’t his fault that he had died when Orlando was only four years old, but Orlando couldn’t help but feel let down none the less.

The second was Orlando’s English teacher, who had called him ‘his Byron’ in private. The man had been so clearly obsessed with him, had stared openly at him and encouraged Orlando to flirt back with him. Orlando had been just fourteen and so in need of a father figure that it hurt, someone for him to hero worship, someone for him to trust. One night his teacher had kissed him, or at least tried to. Orlando had panicked and ran home and made sure he was never alone with the older man again.

The third had been his first boyfriend. Orlando was eighteen and other than a few kisses and fumbled hand jobs with a friend, he was relatively innocent. Gavin was older at twenty-four and more experienced. He had let Orlando down the most, he had taught him about sex, but not making love. As much as Orlando needed to look up to someone, he needed someone worthy of looking up to, and that certainly wasn’t Gavin. Gavin, who smoked grass every night and drank cider and pretended to his mates that Orlando was just a friend and nothing more. God forbid they think him a queer.

The fourth man to let Orlando down was himself. He had let himself fall in love, let himself fall so hard that he feared he would never find a way back up. Of course everyone has to experience unrequited love at some point in their life. Atti couldn’t be blamed for this, he had never been anything but lovely to Orlando. He had taken him under his wing, shown him the gay scene in London, introduced him to his friends and given him a sense of who he was. But Atti had been with his boyfriend for six years and Orlando knew he could never compete with that, so he never tried.

The fifth man was Marco, the handsome Italian he had met during the Easter holidays, while the thirty-five year old had been looking at property to buy, do up and sell on for a profit. Those two weeks had been fantastic and afterwards, when he went back to Rome, he and Orlando had spoken on the phone a lot. The summer holidays came round and Orlando had jumped at the chance to spend the summer with his Italian lover. However, Marco had soon shown his true nature. The older man had been possessive, jealous and in the end, violent. Orlando knew better than to stick around in a relationship like that.

And finally we come to the present day. Viggo. Orlando just couldn’t let himself blame Viggo. He had known the American for only a few days and already he was holding his heart out to him screaming ‘love me,’ ‘take care of me.’ He was pathetic.

Orlando always jumped straight into things, he never thought things through. He was very attracted to the older man and he saw a kindness and a protectiveness in Viggo that went straight to his heart. He had no doubt that Viggo was interested in him, he had been looked at that way enough times to know, but perhaps it was just physical. He knew that men wanted him just because of the way he looked; pretty. Beauty really could be a curse sometimes.

He sighed and rolled over in his bed. The moon was low tonight and she was glowing in through his bedroom window, which was open, trying to catch a stray breeze. He doubted he would sleep tonight, but he closed his eyes anyway and hugged his pillow, burying his face in it.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Viggo sat at his window seat with Maude’s head in his lap. He rubbed her velvety ear absentmindedly and stared up at the moon. He thought back to the other night, on the beach, and the way Orlando’s curls had smelt, like coconut and fresh breezes.

Why did he have to meet the gorgeous young man? Why did Orlando have to have such a spirit within him? He knew why he was so drawn to Orlando, it was because he wanted to be him. He wanted to be with him and be like him. He wanted to be able to break free of his chains and run wild with the kid. He wanted to be kissed and touched and cared for, all things he hadn’t felt in such a long time.

The truth was, he didn’t really know why he was still with Chris. He knew the excuses he made. Chris needed him, if he left her she would fall apart. Henry needed his mom and dad to be together. But the truth was, he was just afraid. He was afraid to break free and no longer have an excuse for his unhappiness. He was afraid to be truly happy, to have something precious and breakable.

Chris drank heavily, but she was far from being a mess. The truth was that only Viggo and Henry could really tell when she was wasted, she had gotten so good at hiding it. Viggo could quite easily blame their failed marriage on her drinking, but he knew there was more to it than that. They had been the best of friends, but not the best of lovers. Over time they had grown to resent each other and they were no longer even friends. They spoke civilly to each other, had dinner as a family, but they no longer slept in the same bedroom, they no longer talked about important things.

He replayed the look on Orlando’s face, when he had told him he was still married, again in his head. The young man had looked at him as though Viggo had just broken his heart. He still couldn’t, for the life of him, understand why an incredible young creature like Orlando would even look twice at him. He hadn’t been sure at the time, but the way Orlando’s face had fallen then, told him everything; Orlando had feelings for him. Viggo could have told himself that the touching, the kissing, the open affection the kid gave him freely, were all just due to his friendly nature, but that one look had told Viggo that Orlando had thought something would happen between them.

He had to make this right, somehow. He had to talk to Orlando and hopefully explain to him his situation. He didn’t know what he wanted from Orlando… no, that was a lie. He knew exactly what he wanted, he just wasn’t able to have it… was he?

~~~~~~~~~

"Hey," Viggo said with forced cheer as he opened the door the following morning to find Orlando standing there.

"Hey," Orlando responded, twisting his hands together nervously.

"I was hoping you’d come by. I feel I need to explain some stuff-"

"No, honestly, there’s no need. I’m sorry, I read things wrong and I had no right to just assume… anyway I just came by to pick up Maude." Orlando walked into the room and bent down to attach the lead he was carrying to her collar. "Um, actually I was thinking about driving to France. Maybe it’s not such a good idea, I mean, I don’t want to, you know, um." He stood up, unsure how to end his sentence and found Viggo standing just inches from him.

The American took Orlando’s chin in his hand and lifted his face, forcing their eyes to meet. They were so close and the scent of coconuts flooded Viggo’s senses. His eyes darted down to look at Orlando’s lips as the kid’s tongue darted out to wet them of it's own accord. God, Orlando thought to himself, did Viggo want to kiss him?

Viggo raised his eyes back to Orlando’s and saw such stark vulnerability that he felt his heart ache. Orlando’s eyes were pleading with him. ‘Please, don’t break my heart.’

Viggo swallowed hard and stroked his thumb over Orlando’s jaw. "Will you stay and hear what I have to say?"

Slowly, Orlando nodded and when Viggo moved his hand from his face, he went over to sit on the bed.

"I am married, but it isn’t how you think." Viggo looked at him, finding this a lot harder than when he had practiced on Maude last night.

Orlando simply looked at him patiently.

"Chris and I haven’t shared a bed for almost two years. We’re married in name only. This isn’t an excuse or a reason but it’s the truth and although it doesn’t excuse how I acted-"

"No, Viggo. You didn’t do anything wrong. You never gave me any reason to think that you wanted me-"

"But I do want you," Viggo said before he could stop himself. "I just can’t have you."

Orlando stared at Viggo and felt like he wanted to cry. "I’m too affectionate, I know. Everyone always says. Marco used to say I was like a girl with the amount of cuddles I needed," Orlando said with a weak laugh.

"No," Viggo said quickly. "That’s what I like most about you."

Orlando smiled gently and looked away. "My point, is that I come on too strong. I’m such a twat. I just met you and instantly I just assumed that we were going to… you know, I mean I had known you one night and I thought we were going to end up getting together. I barely knew you and I invited you to travel with me to France. I never think, I just… feel"

Viggo moved closer to him on the bed. "I’m the complete opposite. I think too much and don’t let myself feel enough." He moved his hand to Orlando’s back and rubbed it gently, making Orlando smile softly.

"These past few days, I have felt again and that’s because of you," Viggo whispered. He wanted so badly to take Orlando in his arms and crush his slender body against his own, but he couldn’t, because he knew that if he did, he would never be able to let go.

"So, what do we do?" Orlando asked.

Viggo looked at him for a long time, before sighing and getting up to pace the room. "God, I don’t know." After a long moment, in which Maude had come over and began licking Orlando’s bare ankle, Viggo turned to look at him again.

"I still want to drive with you to France. I know there are a thousand reasons why I shouldn’t and I know that I’m probably sealing my own doom by saying this, but I’m not ready to stop feeling again, not yet."

Orlando looked at Viggo and couldn’t help but smile. He thought that perhaps something would happen between them after all, that they would both say ‘this is wrong, we shouldn’t do this,’ and that they would both feel guilty for it afterwards, but that wouldn’t stop them from doing it.

Orlando could see himself, heartbroken, in terrible pain, because Viggo had just left him to go back to his wife, but he knew he would willingly take whatever Viggo was willing to give, however little that may be.

"Then let’s go to France." Orlando stood up and smiled widely. "We can leave a little earlier than I was planning, so that we can stop off in Paris for your exhibition. That’s if you don’t mind me tagging along to that"

Viggo looked at him, knowing this was quite possibly the very worst idea in the history of bad ideas. "I’d really like that."

TBC