Sight Unseen (03)

[okinay.livejournal.com]

Sight Unseen (03) by okinay
Pairing: Vig/Orli
Rating: NC17
Beta: My other half – piedpiperme
Disclaimer: Ever heard the song 'Cotton Eyed Joe'? It's all BULLSHIT!
Summary: An accidental wrong number changes the course of two men's lives.





Chapter 3

Orlando hurt.

And it wasn’t just the ordinary, garden-variety hurt either. His muscles screamed in protest as he slowly removed his clothes, the tiniest of movements triggering another round of stabbing pain that left him gasping.

He finally managed to step into the steaming shower, but only after a litany of curses that could give a seasoned sailor a run for his money. Bracing his hands against the front wall, he bent his neck and let the hot water run down over his shoulders and back, hoping it would soothe at least part of the ache there. He’d deal with his legs later. Right now it was his back that needed attention.

Once the hot water had dulled the pain in his protesting muscles, he slowly left the confines of the shower and went in search of the muscle relaxers he had left over from his last bout of testosterone-driven insanity. Orlando was nothing if not prepared. Experience taught him to *always* have an extra muscle relaxer, or two, on hand for just such emergencies. The effects might not last long, but at least they would alleviate some of the pain that was sure to return.

Not bothering with the hassle of getting dressed, he crawled onto his bed and waited for the medication to kick in. He had been floating in a haze of calmness for a little while when he heard his phone ringing.

“Yeah?” he managed to say when he pulled the receiver down onto the bed with him and laid it beside his face.

“Orlando?” came the voice through the phone line.

“Mmm hmm.” He really didn’t have the strength for much more than that.

Viggo’s brows furrowed and he looked at the clock. It was only seven in the evening. “Were you sleeping?”

Orlando smiled. “Sleep? No. More like drifting,” he mumbled.

Concern laced Viggo’s voice as he spoke. “Are you okay?”

“Debatable.”

“Care to tell me what’s going on?” Viggo prodded.

“Fucking hurts,” the young man whimpered.

“What does? Orlando, what happened?”

“All fucking Chad’s fault,” he mumbled.

Viggo stamped down the fear that threatened to overwhelm him. The young man was making no sense, what-so-ever, and it was making Viggo a little worried. *Fuck that, not just a little … more than that … a whole lot more than that,* he thought.

“Orlando, please tell me what’s going on. What did Chad do?” The older man’s imagination was running rampant and one thing stood out above all the rest … Viggo shivered. He did not want to think this Chad person had hurt his Orlando *that* way. If he had, he was a dead man walking. He’d tear him from limb to limb, and then some.

*Whoa, back the train up for a minute there, buster,* he thought. Since when did he start thinking of Orlando as his?

*Try the minute you heard his voice and realized you felt something for him.*

Pushing his inner-voices aside, he concentrated on Orlando.

“Orlando,” he said with a stern voice.

“Hmm?”

“Do I need to call 911?”

Orlando snorted into the mattress. “No. ‘M okay. Just a bit sore, is all.”

*Well, that was a little bit better,* Viggo thought with relief. At least he was stringing more words together.

“Care to tell me why you sound like you’re three-sheets to the wind?”

Orlando smiled. “Muscle relaxers are excellent little pills, don’t you think?”

“Not if they affect you like that, they’re not,” Viggo said honestly. “So, tell me what happened to cause you to sound this way.”

The young man chuckled. “Just me being me, really,” he started as he slowly rolled over so that he was lying on his back, groaning as he did so. Viggo closed his eyes against the pain he heard hiding just beneath the surface of the sound and wished he could help. “It was one of those extremely rare afternoons where a couple of us didn’t have anything on the schedule, and we took advantage of our time off, so to speak. So there we were, Chad and I, tagging each other on one of the backcountry runs, which is out of bounds mind you, basically trying to outdo each other. We’ve ridden these slopes plenty of times before, so we know where each outcropping is, which ones we can do tricks from.”

“Oh, Orlando, no,” Viggo whispered.

Knowing instantly what the older man thought, he rushed on. “No, nothing like that. No accidents, no broken bones. As soon as he hit the first drop-off, he started stringing together different aerials and it was amazing. So of course, me being the idiot daredevil I am, cannot allow him to have all the fun. I can’t even begin to explain some of the things I did. Hell, I can’t remember half of them now. All I know is that when I got to the bottom of the run, my body voiced its opinion about the afternoon’s activities, loud and clear.”

Viggo waited for his friend to continue, but nothing else was forthcoming. He breathed a small sigh of relief that it wasn’t worse than a few sore muscles, and said as much.

“A few?” Orlando protested. “Try damned near every one of them. I took a hot shower earlier and it helped ease the pain a bit, but the pill worked even better.”

“Kids these days,” Viggo said with a small smile.

“Yeah, well, at least I can still do that stuff, old man,” he teased. “What can you do?”

“Whip your butt for being a smart ass.”

Orlando laughed, feeling somewhat better now. He didn’t want to admit that hearing this particular voice on the other end of the line made him feel even better than the shower or the little magic pill. “You into kink, David?”

Viggo groaned. “I should just hang up and be done with you. It doesn’t matter what I say – you’re going to turn it into something sexual.”

Orlando’s free hand settled lightly on his stomach, his thumb teasing the indention of his navel. “Yeah, well, sue me. I’m a young man with needs.”

An idea was rapidly forming in Viggo’s head. Before he could chicken out, he asked, “Where are you right now?”

“Laying butt-arse naked on my bed.”

“Perfect,” Viggo said with a smile.

“Finally gonna give me what I want?” Orlando asked.

“Depends on what it is you want.”

Orlando’s pulse quickened at the thought of what the other man might be thinking.

“I want you to lay face-down,” Viggo said.

“Kinda hard to wank that way,” Orlando teased.

“Just do as I say,” he instructed and listened to the small sounds Orlando emitted as he rolled onto his stomach.

Orlando propped the phone on the side of his face. “Okay, I’m laid out and at your command.”

Viggo groaned at the image that flashed across his mind. He lay back on his couch, the warmth of the fire relaxing him. “What’s your favorite scented oil?” he asked.

“Fuck if I know. Never been asked. Does Astroglide have a scent?”

“Not that I’m aware of. So you’re not into scented or flavored lube?”

“Nope. What are you up to?”

Viggo would have to remember that for future reference. “How about a nice imaginary massage from someone you barely know?” Viggo teased.

“As long as it’s you, how could I refuse?”

A slow warmth suffused Viggo’s body and he wondered if the young man realized what he had said.

*Or maybe you’re reading too much into things,* he thought, which was probably more accurate of the two assumptions.

“Okay, now close your eyes,” he quietly instructed.

“No problem there, mate,” Orlando quipped as his eyes slowly shut.

“I’m pouring sandalwood scented massage oil in my hands. Now feel my hands as they slowly stroke your neck, my thumbs massaging the muscles at the base. I’m moving to your shoulders now, closing my hands over them and gently squeezing,” Viggo said and through the phone line, heard a deep breath being inhaled.

Orlando bit his lip as the words began to affect him. He slowly lost himself in the seductive voice, imagined that he could feel the work-roughened hands gliding over his body.

“I’m moving down your back now, slowly rubbing the soreness away. Does that feel good Orlando?”

Orlando pressed his hardening cock into the mattress beneath him, trying to ease the tension that was building there. “Yesssss,” he whispered.

“I’m moving down now, rubbing your thighs, relaxing all the muscles in your body with my hands.”

The muscles in Orlando’s leg twitched in reaction to the soothing words.

Viggo took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. He reached down to unbutton and unzip his jeans in an effort to ease the pressure off of his swollen member.

“My hands glide over your ass, slowly kneading each side.”

Orlando moaned as his hips slowly rocked against the surface below him. Viggo took in every nuance that spilled from Orlando’s lips, drank them in as if they were nectar from the Gods themselves.

“That sound, Orlando,” Viggo panted. “Jesus.” He was silent for a moment, afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he tried to say anything else. His slid his hand into his boxers and slowly stroked himself.

Orlando’s moans became louder, his breathing ragged. The voice, the words … Orlando reached into the nightstand drawer and quickly found what he was searching for. After rolling to his back, he closed his slicked hand around his cock. “Please don’t stop.”

Viggo heard the rustling through the phone line and knew what Orlando was doing. “Orlando, this is not …” Viggo started to say this was not where he had intended for this to go but was interrupted before he could finish.

“Too late,” he said as he tugged on his nipple ring. “Just … oh fuck,” he panted as want and need crashed through his body. Never before had he been so affected by someone. Orlando didn’t care if this wasn’t what the other man wanted … he wanted it. “Fuck, I wish you were here, David,” he said as began to stroke in earnest.

The name snapped Viggo back to reality but it was the whimpers and erratic breathing he heard that lured him back into the fantasy. He already knew he was going to hell - this just ensured him a first class ticket. His own fist closed around his member and knew it wouldn’t take but a few strokes and he’d be done for.

Might as well go out in a blaze of glory.

“So do I, baby. So do I,” he said quietly, surprised at the ease in which the endearment rolled off of his tongue, as if it were said everyday.

The reply caught Orlando by surprise. He’d been called ‘baby’ more times than he could remember, but coming from this man, it was somehow different. His cock pulsed in his hand, sending several pearlescent streams onto his chest as he realized that this was the first time he wished it were true.

Viggo’s hand and shirt were covered with his own release, his heart beating frantically inside his chest. It was only when it had slowed to a somewhat normal pace that he finally dared to speak.

“Orlando?”

“I’m here,” he said quietly.

God, he felt like a first class asshole for what had just happened. “I’m sorry,” Viggo offered. “That’s not what I had in mind when I started it. I was just trying to help take your mind off of the pain.”

Orlando laughed. “It worked,” he said as he reached over and retrieved a few tissues to clean himself off with. “Are you okay?”

Viggo chuckled. “I’ll survive,” he said as he tried to figure out what to use to clean up with. His shirt was a mess and he didn’t have anything else close by. “Can you hang on a minute? I need to take care of the mess I made,” he said as he pushed himself off of the couch.

“Take as long as you need,” Orlando said. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said as he tossed the tissues into the trashcan beside the bed.

Viggo walked into the guest bathroom and set the phone on the sink before carefully pulling the soiled t-shirt over his head. With that done, he grabbed a washcloth and quickly wiped himself off.

“Done,” he said when he retrieved the phone and tossed the shirt towards the mudroom.

“All better?” Orlando asked as he slid beneath the covers.

“Yeah. So you’re okay now?”

“Much better,” the young man offered as he slowly stretched his back. “Back doesn’t hurt as bad.”

“That’s good. What about work tomorrow?” Viggo asked as he settled on the couch again.

“Today was my last one. I work four on and four off,” he offered.

“Good. You can take it easy tomorrow.”

Orlando rolled to his side, his eyes closing. He cradled the extra pillow against his chest. “Yeah, until about seven anyway, and then I go to my other job.”

“Other job?”

“When I’m not working at the resort on the weekends, I’m a bartender at a nightclub here in town,” he said quietly. “Not the most glamorous job, but it helps pay the bills.”

Viggo heard the relaxing sigh and wondered how much longer his friend would be awake.

“I’m going to let you go now, okay?”

“I’ll miss talking to you tomorrow night,” Orlando admitted as his mind slowly shut down.

“Me too.”

“Gonna get some sleep now. Night.”

“Goodnight, baby,” Viggo whispered before disconnecting the call.

He lay on the couch and pulled the old battered quilt from its back, covering himself. It wasn’t long before he succumbed to sleep’s hold and dreamt of snow covered mountains and brown eyes.

TBC