Slippery Slope 6/?
Aug. 16th, 2005 04:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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vigorliTitle: Slippery Slope
Chapter: 6/?
Author: Rocketbalm
Pairing: OB/VM
Rating: R-ish for language
Summary: the fallout, a realization, an understanding
Content/warnings: AU
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Blatantly not true, fiction
fic•tion (fik shen)
An imaginative creation or a pretense that does not represent actuality but has been invented. A lie. A literary work whose content is produced by the imagination and is not necessarily based on fact.
Author’s note: I really struggled with this chapter for some reason. I always knew what I wanted to say and where I wanted it to go, I just couldn’t get it on paper the way I envisioned it. In the end what I outlined for one chapter has now stretched into two because of all the information and dialogue that I had to get through. It was a heavy slog but I think I’m as happy as I’m going to be with it so here goes nothing…
Chapter 6
Viggo had a good match, no a great match. Today’s win gave him the confidence he needed going into the Whistler Classic Squash Tournament at the end of the week. It had been a long road to get back to the top of his game physically not to mention mentally, and now he sensed he was peaking at just the right time. As a side benefit, the stress of the upcoming anniversary and all its painful memories had been worked out of his system on the court. As for the tension of being so close to his gorgeous and rather tempting house guest, that came flooding back as soon as he came home and heard the shower running. Just the images of Orlando, hot, wet and naked were enough to make his cock twitch.
He closed his eyes and lost the battle to suppress the memories of what it felt like to share a shower with someone. The way the water would bead and form rivulets that ran ever downward across each plane of muscle, dipped and pooled in each indentation begging to be tasted like a fine wine. The slippery slide and slap of slick skin on skin, the sound of water joined with throaty moans reverberating in the enclosed space, caressing senses like the hands of an unseen lover. Viggo made his way into his bedroom and gave himself over to the vivid images as he stroked himself to completion biting his bottom lip to keep from moaning Orlando’s name upon his release. Viggo lay there catching his breath wondering whether Orlando was thinking about him in his shower and if his thoughts would have the same results.
Orlando stood letting the water pulse against his skin willing it to wash away the images he couldn’t erase and hoping the sound would drown out the questions that screamed in his mind. He shivered in spite of the heat of the water, as he tried to cleanse himself of the guilt that came with invading his hosts’ privacy, someone he had hoped would become, at the very least, a good friend.
Viggo composed himself, while images of the younger man still painted his memory. It had been a long time since anyone occupied his spare thoughts the way Orlando did. There were so many things about him he found intriguing. Once you got past the stunning looks and started to peel back the layers, there was far more to Orlando than the happy-go-lucky ‘pretty’ actor the media, by his own admission, portrayed him to be. There was a depth and intelligence that he hesitated in showing, almost as if he was unsure he’d be taken seriously; the genuine joy and wonderment when he learned something new or discovered how breathtaking a sunset on the mountains could be; the kindness that radiated from him when he spoke about his cousin’s autistic child or worry in his voice when he heard of an abandoned dog; and the overwhelming sadness and aura of abandonment that surrounded him, drawing you to him, wanting to give comfort and love. A truly enticing package, one Viggo longed to unwrap but for a few things. He knew that Orlando had slept with women -- that much he had admitted during their conversation about ‘Kate’, though the circumstance had been less than ideal. That made him at the most bi. He suspected from their conversations that he had at least one experience with a man yet Viggo couldn’t determine if it was an experience Orlando might ever consider repeating. None of that actually mattered when you considered the daunting possibility that Orlando was in some form or another dependant on prescription meds.
Viggo sighed and made his way downstairs, intent on making lunch for both of them before spending the afternoon in his studio. He had just set out all the ingredients to make tuna melts when Orlando sat himself quietly at the table.
“Hey.” Orlando greeted him reservedly.
“Hey yourself, did you sleep any better after you got back to bed?” He kept his tone light noting the other man’s distant manner.
“Um, yeah, fine thanks.” Viggo watched as Orlando was avoided making eye contact him. He wondered if the conversation from the night before was bothering him or if it was something else. Viggo remembered how it felt to hold Orlando’s hand in his own and was concerned that maybe he had made the younger man uncomfortable. Lost in thought he continued making lunch, not bothering to ask Orlando if he was hungry.
When the sandwiches were ready he slid a plate toward his young guest and sat down facing him. Orlando looked up at the plate in front of him and gave Viggo a small smile that barely changed the line of his usually expressive mouth. “Thanks.” He murmured.
The two men ate in silence for several minutes before Viggo broke the stillness. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked hoping to draw out what was bothering him. Orlando shook his head sharply, before returning to his sandwich. “You know I’m said to be a pretty good listener, or if you’d rather not talk, perhaps you’d like to do something to take your mind off things for a while.”
Orlando squirmed in his seat nearly knocking over a vase of fresh flowers as he fidgeted. The thought of Viggo being so kind to him was making the guilt sit heavy in his gut. He couldn’t look up, knowing that the sight of Viggo, looking at him with compassion would be his undoing. Realizing Orlando wasn’t going to respond, Viggo continued. “You know, we could spend the afternoon in the studio together. I have few things I’m working on for my next show and you mentioned you liked to sculpt -- I have some clay left from a series I created that failed miserably. It’s yours if you want it. Sometimes I find losing myself in the creative process is a great outlet for what ever is bothering me.”
Orlando paled noticeably, and Viggo was shocked by the look of anguish that flit across the young man’s face. He reached his hand across the table hoping his touch would give him comfort only to be rebuffed by a shaken Orlando.
“Orli?” Orlando flinched at the use of his nickname, it was the first time Viggo had used it and he knew he had done it out of concern. He didn’t know whether he wanted to run and hide in the shame of what he’d done or if he wanted to confess and hope for forgiveness. His mouth opened as if to speak and nothing came out. He jumped up and stood there holding onto the back of the chair, he pushed it into the table, conflicted, not knowing what to do.
Viggo was truly concerned now. The fear on Orlando’s face worried him. What had happened while he was gone? Had someone phoned him and caused him pain? He could only hope that whatever it was Orlando would open up to him. He gave him a reassuring smile. “What is it, Orli? Talk to me.”
“I... I…” The young man stuttered, the words choking him. “While you were gone, I went into your studio.” He his words ran together and came out in a rush.
Viggo was visibly relieved. “Orlando, when I told you that you could go in there whenever you wanted, I meant it.” He watched the younger man swallow, his hands trembled on the back of the chair and Viggo realized that what ever was bothering him, it hadn’t come out yet. “Orlando? What ever it is we can figure something out.” Thinking perhaps he had had an accident and spilled something or knocked something over.
Orlando couldn’t look Viggo in the eye. He knew that now that he had opened the door that he had to be brave enough to walk through it. He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes and the tightness in his throat as if he were already grieving for the relationship that had just begun to grow. Taking a deep breath he confessed. “I waited until you were gone. I went in, knowing what I was doing was wrong and I didn’t stop myself.”
Viggo’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do Orlando?” His voice an icy calm.
“I went to find the sketches you’d done last night – ones I don’t think you wanted me to see. I… I should have just asked but I didn’t think you would show them to me. I knew they were private. I don’t know why, I just had to know.” His voice was soft and almost childlike, his eyes brimming with tears obviously distressed. “I’ll just go pack my things now and get out of your way. I’m, I’m so sorry Viggo.” His tears were now streaming down his cheeks, his voice quavering.
“Sit down Orlando.” Viggo commanded before he could move. The silence in the room hummed with tension. Seeing the hesitation in the younger man he added, “Now!” Orlando flinched and looked up and saw the emotion in the older man’s eyes and thought it best to just sit and take what ever abuse he had coming to him.
//You stupid little shit. How dare you defy me. *smack* You think you’re smarter than I am Orlando? You think you can do any of this without me? Think again. You’re nothing but a two bit actor that everyone has to prop up so the damn movie won’t fail. You can’t even remember to take your pills regularly so you won’t hold up production. You’re nothing without me Orlando, don’t forget that. Nothing.//
Viggo saw the terror in the young man’s eyes and as much as he wanted to reach across the table and shake some sense into him he realized that wasn’t the route to take. He wondered if his reaction stemmed from some sort of physical abuse in his past. He carefully swallowed his anger, forcing himself to calm down and breathe regularly.
“So did you find what you were looking for? Did my sketches answer your questions for you, Orlando?”
“I… I… I’m sorry.”
“Yes, you’ve said that. You’re sorry. That’s all good and well Orlando but what does it mean. Don’t just spout apologies that don’t carry any weight. What are you sorry *for*?” Viggo’s voice was dangerously low but calm.
Orlando was visibly shaking now, tears rolling down his face, off his chin and onto the table between them. “I’m sorry for touching your things?” He answered confused, still waiting for the rage he was sure was still to come.
“Are you sorry for touching my things Orlando; or are you sorry that you broke my trust; that you stole from me the opportunity to explain things when I was ready. Or are you sorry that you weren’t strong enough to keep your secret. I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t said anything. So what is it exactly that you are sorry for?” By the last question, Viggo’s voice had lost almost all of its residual anger. As Orlando sobbed brokenly at the table it took all of Viggo’s strength to resist going to him and comforting him, knowing that Orlando needed to start owning his own mistakes and cleaning up his own messes.
“Orlando, look at me.” The young man raised his head, eyes still swam with tears and his bottom lip quiver slightly. “What are you sorry for?” His voice soft and warmer than before.
“I’m sorry I let you down.” He began softly, sniffling slightly. “I’m sorry I’m broke your trust. ”I’m sorry I fucked everything up before I got a chance to really know you.”
Viggo watched the young man carefully for any sign of dishonesty before he responded. “Orlando, I’m not going to lie to you. Part of me is furious that you, on some level, felt it was acceptable to betray my trust and creep around to pry into my personal things. I don’t even have to ask if the ends justified the means, your face tells that story. And, I suspect you weren’t prepared for what you saw and you have questions begging to be asked.” Viggo paused for a moment to get his thoughts in order. “I’m not prepared to give you answers Orlando. I might have been, if the opportunity had been presented again. It wasn’t and you decided on a different course of action, and with that there are consequences.” Orlando practically whimpered under Viggo’s intense scrutiny. Sensing his distress, Viggo made sure his words held some warmth yet remained firm. “I don’t want you to leave Orlando, in fact I think that would too easy. What I would like, is for you to care enough to stay and want to repair the breach you created in our friendship. Are you willing to do that?” Viggo reached across and placed his hand over the younger man’s in support. Orlando tried to meet his gaze and failed as his eyes slid downward and away while giving a brief nod of consent.
“I truly am sorry Viggo.” He practically pleaded looking for some sort of forgiveness.
Viggo hesitated before continuing, shoring up his resolve. “Orlando I can’t give you the absolution that you’re looking for – that only comes when you begin to forgive yourself.” He started gently. “And I’m not just talking about what happened today, I’m talking about forgiving yourself for what ever got you to this point. What ever made you feel so damaged and unworthy, what ever gave you the disregard for boundaries, both yours and those of others? Once you start to forgive yourself for that, you’ll be on the right path and I can’t help you get there.” Viggo sounded almost regretful, as if he would like nothing better than to help the young man; though that was a step he was not prepared to take.
Viggo stood and reached for some tissue. Making his way around the table he handed the tissue to Orlando and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I was going to spend the afternoon in the studio – my offer still stands. You’re welcome to join me when ever you’re ready.” He gave the younger man’s shoulder a squeeze and made his way up to the studio.
Entering the safe haven of his studio he sat down in exhaustion. It would not have been difficult to lose his temper with Orlando; in fact he wondered if he had been too easy on him. There was something in the way the young man had flinched when he raised his voice had stopped him from truly losing it with him and made him think that perhaps Orlando had abuse issues as well. That might explain why no one seemed to want to hold Orlando responsible for his actions, even Sean and the two Hobbits sheltered him and cleaned up his messes – hell they probably didn’t even realize they were doing it anymore. Perhaps that was a result of what ever went down in New Zealand – Sean had alluded to it when he had come back from the re-shoots subdued and pensive, but he never went into detail. Viggo wouldn’t expect any less; after all, Sean kept his own confidences without question.
The situation worried him, it felt so familiar. Though the pattern differed in places, but the emotions were the same. It was a battle that Viggo never wanted to fight again and even when the echoes of memories began to ripple through him, with their warning loud and clear, he could not walk away. What he needed was objectivity, he needed to step away from his growing attachment to Orlando and look at things impartially. He knew he couldn’t offer the young man much more than understanding tempered with accountability, anything else would be foolish. Thinking back, it was hard to know if he had said and done all the right things downstairs -- it was a fine line between support and co-dependence, especially with his own troubled past.
Viggo had spent a quiet hour in the studio sorting through his thoughts before Orlando came and stood meekly in the doorway, obviously uncomfortable to be so close to the scene of his perceived downfall. He wondered briefly if Orlando had taken more pills to get up enough courage to come to the studio. Standing at an easel, canvass swirled with colour, Viggo motioned for him to come in with a gentle wave of his brush. “I cleared a space for you over there.” He gestured to a clear workspace that held a large piece of clay wrapped in plastic, some sculpting tools and a comfortable work chair. “There’s an old pottery wheel in the store room if you want to use it. Anything else you might need is in the closet at the far end and anything you can’t find just holler.”
Viggo watched Orlando hesitate as if he wanted to speak and then changed his mind and slowly walked to the work space cleared for him and stared at the clay for many long minutes. The young man took a deep breath and began to unwrap the clay almost reverently, stroking the cool smoothness like a lover. After a few tentative minutes he was working the clay with skill and passion, the malleable material warmed in his touch becoming an extension of his own being. Viggo was enthralled, and soon realized that his brush had remained poised in the same position, paint dripping down his hand and onto the floor for the several minutes. In a moment of clarity he discovered that his skin was warm and flushed with the recognition that he was falling in love with this beautiful young man and it scared the shit out of him.
Viggo bent his head and tried to concentrate on his work, the effort was for naught. His eyes inevitably would return to Orlando, who was lost in his own creative process. Every movement was graceful – so unlike the young man he had picked up, tripping and stumbling through the airport. Viggo wondered which man you would find in bed -- a bumbling klutz or a lissome lover – either one would be difficult to turn away. He spent the afternoon alternately musing about Orlando as a lover and admonishing himself for even going there, especially after his moments of objectivity earlier.
He was interrupted from his thoughts by a shouted greeting from downstairs. “Vig, Orlando… come out come out where ever you are. Or should I be saying put some clothes on I’m coming up.” Brian gave a snort of laughter as he made his way upstairs knowing full well that Viggo would be in his studio, his routine rarely varied when he was getting ready for a show.
“We’re up here YB, as if you didn’t know.” Viggo responded mildly. Orlando turned away from his work in time to see Brian burst in the door with a slide of sock feet across the floor, followed by a makeshift pirouette and curtsy. “Should I ask what brought you here or is this just a way to get out of doing real work for a change?” Viggo asked without looking up.
“Nah, I came to see if I could spring Orlando from Chateau Viggo for a few hours. I thought he was ready for a modified work release program before he gets full parole tomorrow when our rainbow coloured brethren have left town. Figured he’d be about to crack from staying with ‘crazy artist guy’ and thought he might want to come for a ride with me and head over to the restaurant to pick up dinner for all of us. Dom and Elijah are still joining us right?” Brian had sprawled himself across the back of the settee as if he had become part of the furniture. “What do you say Orlando, you up for a break from this guy yet?”
Orlando looked at Viggo not knowing what to say, not wanting to offend him by going and wanting more than anything to get away for a while and accept Brian’s generous offer. “Um, I...”
“Why don’t you go Orlando? Brian will be unbearable during dinner if you don’t. Besides, since you haven’t worked with clay for a while, the muscles in your hands will probably be cramping and sore soon anyway.” Giving Orlando the out he needed.
He shot Viggo a look of gratitude he answered with a cautious smile. “Sure. I’ll, um, just put my things away and clean up here and change. I’ll be a minute, yeah?”
“Sure, take your time. I’ll just hang out and torture Mr. Serious over here.” Brian glanced at Viggo sensing that something was amiss. Orlando carefully covered the clay and cleaned the area he was working in quickly and efficiently. After he finished washing off his tools and his hands he headed off to change. Brian rose from the settee and stood beside Viggo. “So what happened? You and the matinee idol have a tiff?” He asked quietly with a touch of humour.
“It’s nothing Brian. I just have a lot to mull over right now.” He answered, not really wanting to get into a discussion about Orlando right then.
“Okay. I know this is a hard time for you – it is every year. I just want to make sure that you’re okay. You’ll let me know if you need to talk. I don’t want to have to come here and hold your paintings hostage until you talk, all right.” He smiled and rubbed Viggo’s back tenderly. “It’s time to start living again Vig. Don’t close yourself off, okay. And I’m here when ever you need me, you know that.” He placed a soft kiss on the older man’s cheek and walked off to find Orlando. Viggo stared after Brian for a minute, not knowing what to make of his comments. Finally he walked to rail of the loft called down, stopping the pair before they left.
“Hey YB, wanna take your Rover?” He asked jiggling the keys he had dug out of his pocket over the rail.
“Nah, keep it for now, I don’t think Orlando would appreciate the Sea-to-Sky highway experience from within the depths of your road beast. Besides, I like driving the ‘vertible. Which reminds me, you better bring a hat.” He turned to Orlando with a grin.
“I expect you’ll be back before Dom and Elijah get here?”
“Yes Dad, were you this bad when I lived with you?” He asked rhetorically, while he slipped on his boots.
Viggo continued to watch the younger men get ready – both amazingly beautiful, one blond, the other dark – and wondered why Orlando would ever want to be with him when he could have someone like Brian; the thought filled him with sadness.
Saying their goodbyes they stepped out into the waning afternoon light and into Brian’s butter yellow, immaculately restored, 64 Comet convertible. Orlando smiled admiringly as Brian turned over the engine and it came to life with a warm purr.
“Wow, nice ride.” Orlando grinned.
“Yeah, she’s my baby.” Brain replied reverently.
“She looks practically new!” He said in awe. “She must be very special.”
“You could say that. My Dad gave her to me on my seventeenth birthday. He died a couple of months later so she was the last thing he ever gave me.” He smiled wistfully. “I drove her hard for a few years, not really giving her the respect she deserved so by the time I was 22 she was trashed. I put her on blocks until I started making enough money to have her refurbished. Now, she is the beauty you see before you, the woman in my life so to speak.” Brian laughed cheekily.
“She’s amazing, you did a good job.”
“Thanks.” Brain made his way down the drive and on toward the village. Orlando was glad he had come with Brian, he hoped it would give him an opportunity to know his agents brother better as well as get more insight into his host. It wasn’t long until they fell into the easy rapport of the evening before, Brian understood that Orlando craved information about Viggo and he was willing to oblige him up to a point.
“Um, back at the house, Viggo called you YB?” Orlando questioned still admiring the chrome detailed interior.
“hmmm? Oh yeah, it stands for ‘Young Brian’. He gave it too me the first week we met, Mike asked him to keep an eye on me during my first year at university and Vig thought that meant he was to be my keeper and I became ‘Young Brian’ or YB for short. It stuck, though only people really close to me get a way with it. Feel free to use it if you want. What about you? You must have a nickname – Orlando’s kind of a mouthful.”
“A few actually. Most friends call me Orli, one of my oldest friend calls me OB, and the Hobbits and Sean call me the Elf, or rather Prissy Elf – bloody wankers.”
Brian grinned, “Prissy Elf, huh – I think I’ll stick with Orli. I think if we were OB and YB we’d confuse the fuck out of everybody, which actually could be kind of fun. It would drive Vig completely nuts.” The two men laughed at the thought of exasperating Viggo.
“What about Viggo, does he have any nicknames?” Wanting to know all he could about the man.
“Well, mostly we just call him Vig, but back in University there was a time he was known as ‘Mort’.” The blond flashed a wicked grin. “Mort as in Mortensen?” Orli asked not really understanding but wanting to.
“Well that’s what most people thought but the real story is much more interesting.” He giggled. “One night we were all out, usually Vig was the designated driver, but he had just finished his dissertation and we thought he should come out and party with us. He got absolutely gooned, completely out of his gourd and picked up some equally drunk chick. When we left the bar, four of us climbed into the back of a cab and Vig started making out with this girl, not caring that we were all practically sitting in each others laps. Anyway, after a few minutes he’s really getting into it and we look over and realize the girl has passed out and Viggo hasn’t even noticed. He was basically making out with the sleeping dead and we dubbed him ‘the Mortician’ or ‘Mort’ for short.” Brian was laughing at the memory of the story when he noticed Orlando’s open mouthed stare. “Shit, sorry Orli I didn’t realize you’d be offended. I figured with your love life spread across the tabloids, sexual embarrassment was a thing of the past.”
“No, no, it’s not that, it’s just… Nothing, never mind… I just thought… Anyway, Mort yeah. Wow that’s funny.” Curious, Brian prodded him, wanting to know what had distressed the young man. “I don’t know, I guess, I mean I assumed that he was gay. I don’t know why, I just did. It just took me by surprise that he’s not.” Orlando stopped abruptly realizing that he was rambling.
Brian pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and the two men sat there looking at one another. Brian realized that Orlando was struggling with not wanting to pry but desperately wanting to know more about the artist; Brian decided to give him a little leeway.
“Well I wouldn’t call him straight Orlando. He’s been with both women and men, though I think he’s leaned more to men in the last ten years. More than anything I would describe him as loving beautiful people, whether they be beautiful on the outside is irrelevant, it’s what he sees beneath the surface that attracts him; gender tends to be secondary.” Brian smiled knowingly at his passenger, sensing that his earlier distress was from thinking he had lost an opportunity more than anything else. Orlando nodded, absorbing what the other man had just told him and what if anything it meant to him personally. Not wanting the opportunity to pass, he pressed on asking questions of Brian.
“So I was wondering, Viggo’s house… It seems, well big for just him, yeah. I mean he doesn’t seem the type to have such a huge place, he gives the impression that he’d be much more at home with less; he just doesn’t’ appear to be into owning stuff. I don’t know, I don’t think I’m making much sense or explaining it very well.” Orlando ran his fingers through his hair, not really sure himself what he was asking.
Brian looked at him for a moment trying to gage what he should tell the actor, if anything. Finally deciding that sticking to the truth was the best course without revealing too much and explained that originally the artist had it built for his partner, James. And while James oversaw the project, Viggo traveled with his latest show across Europe. There had been all kinds of problems with builders and cost overruns and Vig was glad that James was able to be at home to handle everything. It wasn’t until he returned that he found some things that were off and with a little digging he stumbled across some papers that he wasn’t meant to see. Vig had gone into denial briefly before he figured out that James had embezzled from him for years and most recently had schemed to divert funds allocated to the house into his own bank account and wrote them off as overruns. Vig was devastated, and without going into detail, Brian explained to Orlando that things spiraled rapidly out of control after that. Brian couldn’t be there with him, he was in Hong Kong at the time, opening his latest venture. Instead, Sean had flown over and with very little ceremony kicked James out, convinced Viggo to press charges and supported him in getting the whole legal process underway. Brian stopped then, telling Orlando that it was really Viggo’s story to tell and that he had probably said too much as it was. He then alluded to the fact that there was more, much more, and things had gotten inexplicably worse if that was possible. “Viggo hasn’t really let anyone close to him since then, not that I can blame him. I just wish he would, I don’t know, open himself up to the possibility again, you know.” Brian glanced over to see how Orlando was taking in all this info, and whether he’d said too much, made the wrong assumptions.
Orlando had finally got some answers but found that there were so many more questions. He knew that the man in the horrible sketch was James, he was sure of that now. The poem hastily scribbled on the page made more sense now as did why Sean was there. What ever had happened, Sean had been with Viggo, if not in person, then definitely with his support and love just like he had been there during the New Zealand incident for Orli. The two men sat in the car for a long time talking, both conscious of not revealing too much.
“So why did he go back to the house if it held so many bad memories?” Orlando asked curiously.
“It wasn’t finished until much later, they never lived there together. In fact, I think you’re the only person other than Sean that’s he’s let stay with him. Like I said, he’s been alone since everything happened.” Brain added sadly.
“Fuck Brian, I’m such a twat.” Orlando ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. “I was so wrapped up in my own life that I never even imagined that Viggo might have his own problems. He probably hates having me there in his space.” The memory of what he had done earlier and how he violated the other mans space, flooded him with embarrassment. “I should leave; I need a find somewhere else to stay. Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”
“Orlando. Stop. Viggo would have you stay if he didn’t want you to. In fact I’m asking you to stay, it’s the first time in three years that I’ve seen him let anyone into his life that isn’t part of our inner circle. If he’s at the point where he’s comfortable making new friends, I don’t want to do anything to ruin that. Please Orlando, stay.” Brian smiled and gently squeezed his arm. “Really, I think you should stay.”
Orlando wasn’t so sure. After all the shit he’d put Viggo through already he was probably doing more damage than any good that might come of it. Seeing the look of pleading in Brain’s eyes he knew he’d stay, it’s what he wanted anyway and gave his new friend a nod. “Okay, I’ll stay.”
“That’s great Orli, I’m glad.” In that moment a bond was formed between the two young men, an unspoken understanding that come what may, they would do their best to ensure that the man they had been discussing was kept from being hurt.
TBC
Chapter: 6/?
Author: Rocketbalm
Pairing: OB/VM
Rating: R-ish for language
Summary: the fallout, a realization, an understanding
Content/warnings: AU
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Blatantly not true, fiction
fic•tion (fik shen)
An imaginative creation or a pretense that does not represent actuality but has been invented. A lie. A literary work whose content is produced by the imagination and is not necessarily based on fact.
Author’s note: I really struggled with this chapter for some reason. I always knew what I wanted to say and where I wanted it to go, I just couldn’t get it on paper the way I envisioned it. In the end what I outlined for one chapter has now stretched into two because of all the information and dialogue that I had to get through. It was a heavy slog but I think I’m as happy as I’m going to be with it so here goes nothing…
Chapter 6
Viggo had a good match, no a great match. Today’s win gave him the confidence he needed going into the Whistler Classic Squash Tournament at the end of the week. It had been a long road to get back to the top of his game physically not to mention mentally, and now he sensed he was peaking at just the right time. As a side benefit, the stress of the upcoming anniversary and all its painful memories had been worked out of his system on the court. As for the tension of being so close to his gorgeous and rather tempting house guest, that came flooding back as soon as he came home and heard the shower running. Just the images of Orlando, hot, wet and naked were enough to make his cock twitch.
He closed his eyes and lost the battle to suppress the memories of what it felt like to share a shower with someone. The way the water would bead and form rivulets that ran ever downward across each plane of muscle, dipped and pooled in each indentation begging to be tasted like a fine wine. The slippery slide and slap of slick skin on skin, the sound of water joined with throaty moans reverberating in the enclosed space, caressing senses like the hands of an unseen lover. Viggo made his way into his bedroom and gave himself over to the vivid images as he stroked himself to completion biting his bottom lip to keep from moaning Orlando’s name upon his release. Viggo lay there catching his breath wondering whether Orlando was thinking about him in his shower and if his thoughts would have the same results.
Orlando stood letting the water pulse against his skin willing it to wash away the images he couldn’t erase and hoping the sound would drown out the questions that screamed in his mind. He shivered in spite of the heat of the water, as he tried to cleanse himself of the guilt that came with invading his hosts’ privacy, someone he had hoped would become, at the very least, a good friend.
Viggo composed himself, while images of the younger man still painted his memory. It had been a long time since anyone occupied his spare thoughts the way Orlando did. There were so many things about him he found intriguing. Once you got past the stunning looks and started to peel back the layers, there was far more to Orlando than the happy-go-lucky ‘pretty’ actor the media, by his own admission, portrayed him to be. There was a depth and intelligence that he hesitated in showing, almost as if he was unsure he’d be taken seriously; the genuine joy and wonderment when he learned something new or discovered how breathtaking a sunset on the mountains could be; the kindness that radiated from him when he spoke about his cousin’s autistic child or worry in his voice when he heard of an abandoned dog; and the overwhelming sadness and aura of abandonment that surrounded him, drawing you to him, wanting to give comfort and love. A truly enticing package, one Viggo longed to unwrap but for a few things. He knew that Orlando had slept with women -- that much he had admitted during their conversation about ‘Kate’, though the circumstance had been less than ideal. That made him at the most bi. He suspected from their conversations that he had at least one experience with a man yet Viggo couldn’t determine if it was an experience Orlando might ever consider repeating. None of that actually mattered when you considered the daunting possibility that Orlando was in some form or another dependant on prescription meds.
Viggo sighed and made his way downstairs, intent on making lunch for both of them before spending the afternoon in his studio. He had just set out all the ingredients to make tuna melts when Orlando sat himself quietly at the table.
“Hey.” Orlando greeted him reservedly.
“Hey yourself, did you sleep any better after you got back to bed?” He kept his tone light noting the other man’s distant manner.
“Um, yeah, fine thanks.” Viggo watched as Orlando was avoided making eye contact him. He wondered if the conversation from the night before was bothering him or if it was something else. Viggo remembered how it felt to hold Orlando’s hand in his own and was concerned that maybe he had made the younger man uncomfortable. Lost in thought he continued making lunch, not bothering to ask Orlando if he was hungry.
When the sandwiches were ready he slid a plate toward his young guest and sat down facing him. Orlando looked up at the plate in front of him and gave Viggo a small smile that barely changed the line of his usually expressive mouth. “Thanks.” He murmured.
The two men ate in silence for several minutes before Viggo broke the stillness. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked hoping to draw out what was bothering him. Orlando shook his head sharply, before returning to his sandwich. “You know I’m said to be a pretty good listener, or if you’d rather not talk, perhaps you’d like to do something to take your mind off things for a while.”
Orlando squirmed in his seat nearly knocking over a vase of fresh flowers as he fidgeted. The thought of Viggo being so kind to him was making the guilt sit heavy in his gut. He couldn’t look up, knowing that the sight of Viggo, looking at him with compassion would be his undoing. Realizing Orlando wasn’t going to respond, Viggo continued. “You know, we could spend the afternoon in the studio together. I have few things I’m working on for my next show and you mentioned you liked to sculpt -- I have some clay left from a series I created that failed miserably. It’s yours if you want it. Sometimes I find losing myself in the creative process is a great outlet for what ever is bothering me.”
Orlando paled noticeably, and Viggo was shocked by the look of anguish that flit across the young man’s face. He reached his hand across the table hoping his touch would give him comfort only to be rebuffed by a shaken Orlando.
“Orli?” Orlando flinched at the use of his nickname, it was the first time Viggo had used it and he knew he had done it out of concern. He didn’t know whether he wanted to run and hide in the shame of what he’d done or if he wanted to confess and hope for forgiveness. His mouth opened as if to speak and nothing came out. He jumped up and stood there holding onto the back of the chair, he pushed it into the table, conflicted, not knowing what to do.
Viggo was truly concerned now. The fear on Orlando’s face worried him. What had happened while he was gone? Had someone phoned him and caused him pain? He could only hope that whatever it was Orlando would open up to him. He gave him a reassuring smile. “What is it, Orli? Talk to me.”
“I... I…” The young man stuttered, the words choking him. “While you were gone, I went into your studio.” He his words ran together and came out in a rush.
Viggo was visibly relieved. “Orlando, when I told you that you could go in there whenever you wanted, I meant it.” He watched the younger man swallow, his hands trembled on the back of the chair and Viggo realized that what ever was bothering him, it hadn’t come out yet. “Orlando? What ever it is we can figure something out.” Thinking perhaps he had had an accident and spilled something or knocked something over.
Orlando couldn’t look Viggo in the eye. He knew that now that he had opened the door that he had to be brave enough to walk through it. He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes and the tightness in his throat as if he were already grieving for the relationship that had just begun to grow. Taking a deep breath he confessed. “I waited until you were gone. I went in, knowing what I was doing was wrong and I didn’t stop myself.”
Viggo’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do Orlando?” His voice an icy calm.
“I went to find the sketches you’d done last night – ones I don’t think you wanted me to see. I… I should have just asked but I didn’t think you would show them to me. I knew they were private. I don’t know why, I just had to know.” His voice was soft and almost childlike, his eyes brimming with tears obviously distressed. “I’ll just go pack my things now and get out of your way. I’m, I’m so sorry Viggo.” His tears were now streaming down his cheeks, his voice quavering.
“Sit down Orlando.” Viggo commanded before he could move. The silence in the room hummed with tension. Seeing the hesitation in the younger man he added, “Now!” Orlando flinched and looked up and saw the emotion in the older man’s eyes and thought it best to just sit and take what ever abuse he had coming to him.
//You stupid little shit. How dare you defy me. *smack* You think you’re smarter than I am Orlando? You think you can do any of this without me? Think again. You’re nothing but a two bit actor that everyone has to prop up so the damn movie won’t fail. You can’t even remember to take your pills regularly so you won’t hold up production. You’re nothing without me Orlando, don’t forget that. Nothing.//
Viggo saw the terror in the young man’s eyes and as much as he wanted to reach across the table and shake some sense into him he realized that wasn’t the route to take. He wondered if his reaction stemmed from some sort of physical abuse in his past. He carefully swallowed his anger, forcing himself to calm down and breathe regularly.
“So did you find what you were looking for? Did my sketches answer your questions for you, Orlando?”
“I… I… I’m sorry.”
“Yes, you’ve said that. You’re sorry. That’s all good and well Orlando but what does it mean. Don’t just spout apologies that don’t carry any weight. What are you sorry *for*?” Viggo’s voice was dangerously low but calm.
Orlando was visibly shaking now, tears rolling down his face, off his chin and onto the table between them. “I’m sorry for touching your things?” He answered confused, still waiting for the rage he was sure was still to come.
“Are you sorry for touching my things Orlando; or are you sorry that you broke my trust; that you stole from me the opportunity to explain things when I was ready. Or are you sorry that you weren’t strong enough to keep your secret. I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t said anything. So what is it exactly that you are sorry for?” By the last question, Viggo’s voice had lost almost all of its residual anger. As Orlando sobbed brokenly at the table it took all of Viggo’s strength to resist going to him and comforting him, knowing that Orlando needed to start owning his own mistakes and cleaning up his own messes.
“Orlando, look at me.” The young man raised his head, eyes still swam with tears and his bottom lip quiver slightly. “What are you sorry for?” His voice soft and warmer than before.
“I’m sorry I let you down.” He began softly, sniffling slightly. “I’m sorry I’m broke your trust. ”I’m sorry I fucked everything up before I got a chance to really know you.”
Viggo watched the young man carefully for any sign of dishonesty before he responded. “Orlando, I’m not going to lie to you. Part of me is furious that you, on some level, felt it was acceptable to betray my trust and creep around to pry into my personal things. I don’t even have to ask if the ends justified the means, your face tells that story. And, I suspect you weren’t prepared for what you saw and you have questions begging to be asked.” Viggo paused for a moment to get his thoughts in order. “I’m not prepared to give you answers Orlando. I might have been, if the opportunity had been presented again. It wasn’t and you decided on a different course of action, and with that there are consequences.” Orlando practically whimpered under Viggo’s intense scrutiny. Sensing his distress, Viggo made sure his words held some warmth yet remained firm. “I don’t want you to leave Orlando, in fact I think that would too easy. What I would like, is for you to care enough to stay and want to repair the breach you created in our friendship. Are you willing to do that?” Viggo reached across and placed his hand over the younger man’s in support. Orlando tried to meet his gaze and failed as his eyes slid downward and away while giving a brief nod of consent.
“I truly am sorry Viggo.” He practically pleaded looking for some sort of forgiveness.
Viggo hesitated before continuing, shoring up his resolve. “Orlando I can’t give you the absolution that you’re looking for – that only comes when you begin to forgive yourself.” He started gently. “And I’m not just talking about what happened today, I’m talking about forgiving yourself for what ever got you to this point. What ever made you feel so damaged and unworthy, what ever gave you the disregard for boundaries, both yours and those of others? Once you start to forgive yourself for that, you’ll be on the right path and I can’t help you get there.” Viggo sounded almost regretful, as if he would like nothing better than to help the young man; though that was a step he was not prepared to take.
Viggo stood and reached for some tissue. Making his way around the table he handed the tissue to Orlando and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I was going to spend the afternoon in the studio – my offer still stands. You’re welcome to join me when ever you’re ready.” He gave the younger man’s shoulder a squeeze and made his way up to the studio.
Entering the safe haven of his studio he sat down in exhaustion. It would not have been difficult to lose his temper with Orlando; in fact he wondered if he had been too easy on him. There was something in the way the young man had flinched when he raised his voice had stopped him from truly losing it with him and made him think that perhaps Orlando had abuse issues as well. That might explain why no one seemed to want to hold Orlando responsible for his actions, even Sean and the two Hobbits sheltered him and cleaned up his messes – hell they probably didn’t even realize they were doing it anymore. Perhaps that was a result of what ever went down in New Zealand – Sean had alluded to it when he had come back from the re-shoots subdued and pensive, but he never went into detail. Viggo wouldn’t expect any less; after all, Sean kept his own confidences without question.
The situation worried him, it felt so familiar. Though the pattern differed in places, but the emotions were the same. It was a battle that Viggo never wanted to fight again and even when the echoes of memories began to ripple through him, with their warning loud and clear, he could not walk away. What he needed was objectivity, he needed to step away from his growing attachment to Orlando and look at things impartially. He knew he couldn’t offer the young man much more than understanding tempered with accountability, anything else would be foolish. Thinking back, it was hard to know if he had said and done all the right things downstairs -- it was a fine line between support and co-dependence, especially with his own troubled past.
Viggo had spent a quiet hour in the studio sorting through his thoughts before Orlando came and stood meekly in the doorway, obviously uncomfortable to be so close to the scene of his perceived downfall. He wondered briefly if Orlando had taken more pills to get up enough courage to come to the studio. Standing at an easel, canvass swirled with colour, Viggo motioned for him to come in with a gentle wave of his brush. “I cleared a space for you over there.” He gestured to a clear workspace that held a large piece of clay wrapped in plastic, some sculpting tools and a comfortable work chair. “There’s an old pottery wheel in the store room if you want to use it. Anything else you might need is in the closet at the far end and anything you can’t find just holler.”
Viggo watched Orlando hesitate as if he wanted to speak and then changed his mind and slowly walked to the work space cleared for him and stared at the clay for many long minutes. The young man took a deep breath and began to unwrap the clay almost reverently, stroking the cool smoothness like a lover. After a few tentative minutes he was working the clay with skill and passion, the malleable material warmed in his touch becoming an extension of his own being. Viggo was enthralled, and soon realized that his brush had remained poised in the same position, paint dripping down his hand and onto the floor for the several minutes. In a moment of clarity he discovered that his skin was warm and flushed with the recognition that he was falling in love with this beautiful young man and it scared the shit out of him.
Viggo bent his head and tried to concentrate on his work, the effort was for naught. His eyes inevitably would return to Orlando, who was lost in his own creative process. Every movement was graceful – so unlike the young man he had picked up, tripping and stumbling through the airport. Viggo wondered which man you would find in bed -- a bumbling klutz or a lissome lover – either one would be difficult to turn away. He spent the afternoon alternately musing about Orlando as a lover and admonishing himself for even going there, especially after his moments of objectivity earlier.
He was interrupted from his thoughts by a shouted greeting from downstairs. “Vig, Orlando… come out come out where ever you are. Or should I be saying put some clothes on I’m coming up.” Brian gave a snort of laughter as he made his way upstairs knowing full well that Viggo would be in his studio, his routine rarely varied when he was getting ready for a show.
“We’re up here YB, as if you didn’t know.” Viggo responded mildly. Orlando turned away from his work in time to see Brian burst in the door with a slide of sock feet across the floor, followed by a makeshift pirouette and curtsy. “Should I ask what brought you here or is this just a way to get out of doing real work for a change?” Viggo asked without looking up.
“Nah, I came to see if I could spring Orlando from Chateau Viggo for a few hours. I thought he was ready for a modified work release program before he gets full parole tomorrow when our rainbow coloured brethren have left town. Figured he’d be about to crack from staying with ‘crazy artist guy’ and thought he might want to come for a ride with me and head over to the restaurant to pick up dinner for all of us. Dom and Elijah are still joining us right?” Brian had sprawled himself across the back of the settee as if he had become part of the furniture. “What do you say Orlando, you up for a break from this guy yet?”
Orlando looked at Viggo not knowing what to say, not wanting to offend him by going and wanting more than anything to get away for a while and accept Brian’s generous offer. “Um, I...”
“Why don’t you go Orlando? Brian will be unbearable during dinner if you don’t. Besides, since you haven’t worked with clay for a while, the muscles in your hands will probably be cramping and sore soon anyway.” Giving Orlando the out he needed.
He shot Viggo a look of gratitude he answered with a cautious smile. “Sure. I’ll, um, just put my things away and clean up here and change. I’ll be a minute, yeah?”
“Sure, take your time. I’ll just hang out and torture Mr. Serious over here.” Brian glanced at Viggo sensing that something was amiss. Orlando carefully covered the clay and cleaned the area he was working in quickly and efficiently. After he finished washing off his tools and his hands he headed off to change. Brian rose from the settee and stood beside Viggo. “So what happened? You and the matinee idol have a tiff?” He asked quietly with a touch of humour.
“It’s nothing Brian. I just have a lot to mull over right now.” He answered, not really wanting to get into a discussion about Orlando right then.
“Okay. I know this is a hard time for you – it is every year. I just want to make sure that you’re okay. You’ll let me know if you need to talk. I don’t want to have to come here and hold your paintings hostage until you talk, all right.” He smiled and rubbed Viggo’s back tenderly. “It’s time to start living again Vig. Don’t close yourself off, okay. And I’m here when ever you need me, you know that.” He placed a soft kiss on the older man’s cheek and walked off to find Orlando. Viggo stared after Brian for a minute, not knowing what to make of his comments. Finally he walked to rail of the loft called down, stopping the pair before they left.
“Hey YB, wanna take your Rover?” He asked jiggling the keys he had dug out of his pocket over the rail.
“Nah, keep it for now, I don’t think Orlando would appreciate the Sea-to-Sky highway experience from within the depths of your road beast. Besides, I like driving the ‘vertible. Which reminds me, you better bring a hat.” He turned to Orlando with a grin.
“I expect you’ll be back before Dom and Elijah get here?”
“Yes Dad, were you this bad when I lived with you?” He asked rhetorically, while he slipped on his boots.
Viggo continued to watch the younger men get ready – both amazingly beautiful, one blond, the other dark – and wondered why Orlando would ever want to be with him when he could have someone like Brian; the thought filled him with sadness.
Saying their goodbyes they stepped out into the waning afternoon light and into Brian’s butter yellow, immaculately restored, 64 Comet convertible. Orlando smiled admiringly as Brian turned over the engine and it came to life with a warm purr.
“Wow, nice ride.” Orlando grinned.
“Yeah, she’s my baby.” Brain replied reverently.
“She looks practically new!” He said in awe. “She must be very special.”
“You could say that. My Dad gave her to me on my seventeenth birthday. He died a couple of months later so she was the last thing he ever gave me.” He smiled wistfully. “I drove her hard for a few years, not really giving her the respect she deserved so by the time I was 22 she was trashed. I put her on blocks until I started making enough money to have her refurbished. Now, she is the beauty you see before you, the woman in my life so to speak.” Brian laughed cheekily.
“She’s amazing, you did a good job.”
“Thanks.” Brain made his way down the drive and on toward the village. Orlando was glad he had come with Brian, he hoped it would give him an opportunity to know his agents brother better as well as get more insight into his host. It wasn’t long until they fell into the easy rapport of the evening before, Brian understood that Orlando craved information about Viggo and he was willing to oblige him up to a point.
“Um, back at the house, Viggo called you YB?” Orlando questioned still admiring the chrome detailed interior.
“hmmm? Oh yeah, it stands for ‘Young Brian’. He gave it too me the first week we met, Mike asked him to keep an eye on me during my first year at university and Vig thought that meant he was to be my keeper and I became ‘Young Brian’ or YB for short. It stuck, though only people really close to me get a way with it. Feel free to use it if you want. What about you? You must have a nickname – Orlando’s kind of a mouthful.”
“A few actually. Most friends call me Orli, one of my oldest friend calls me OB, and the Hobbits and Sean call me the Elf, or rather Prissy Elf – bloody wankers.”
Brian grinned, “Prissy Elf, huh – I think I’ll stick with Orli. I think if we were OB and YB we’d confuse the fuck out of everybody, which actually could be kind of fun. It would drive Vig completely nuts.” The two men laughed at the thought of exasperating Viggo.
“What about Viggo, does he have any nicknames?” Wanting to know all he could about the man.
“Well, mostly we just call him Vig, but back in University there was a time he was known as ‘Mort’.” The blond flashed a wicked grin. “Mort as in Mortensen?” Orli asked not really understanding but wanting to.
“Well that’s what most people thought but the real story is much more interesting.” He giggled. “One night we were all out, usually Vig was the designated driver, but he had just finished his dissertation and we thought he should come out and party with us. He got absolutely gooned, completely out of his gourd and picked up some equally drunk chick. When we left the bar, four of us climbed into the back of a cab and Vig started making out with this girl, not caring that we were all practically sitting in each others laps. Anyway, after a few minutes he’s really getting into it and we look over and realize the girl has passed out and Viggo hasn’t even noticed. He was basically making out with the sleeping dead and we dubbed him ‘the Mortician’ or ‘Mort’ for short.” Brian was laughing at the memory of the story when he noticed Orlando’s open mouthed stare. “Shit, sorry Orli I didn’t realize you’d be offended. I figured with your love life spread across the tabloids, sexual embarrassment was a thing of the past.”
“No, no, it’s not that, it’s just… Nothing, never mind… I just thought… Anyway, Mort yeah. Wow that’s funny.” Curious, Brian prodded him, wanting to know what had distressed the young man. “I don’t know, I guess, I mean I assumed that he was gay. I don’t know why, I just did. It just took me by surprise that he’s not.” Orlando stopped abruptly realizing that he was rambling.
Brian pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and the two men sat there looking at one another. Brian realized that Orlando was struggling with not wanting to pry but desperately wanting to know more about the artist; Brian decided to give him a little leeway.
“Well I wouldn’t call him straight Orlando. He’s been with both women and men, though I think he’s leaned more to men in the last ten years. More than anything I would describe him as loving beautiful people, whether they be beautiful on the outside is irrelevant, it’s what he sees beneath the surface that attracts him; gender tends to be secondary.” Brian smiled knowingly at his passenger, sensing that his earlier distress was from thinking he had lost an opportunity more than anything else. Orlando nodded, absorbing what the other man had just told him and what if anything it meant to him personally. Not wanting the opportunity to pass, he pressed on asking questions of Brian.
“So I was wondering, Viggo’s house… It seems, well big for just him, yeah. I mean he doesn’t seem the type to have such a huge place, he gives the impression that he’d be much more at home with less; he just doesn’t’ appear to be into owning stuff. I don’t know, I don’t think I’m making much sense or explaining it very well.” Orlando ran his fingers through his hair, not really sure himself what he was asking.
Brian looked at him for a moment trying to gage what he should tell the actor, if anything. Finally deciding that sticking to the truth was the best course without revealing too much and explained that originally the artist had it built for his partner, James. And while James oversaw the project, Viggo traveled with his latest show across Europe. There had been all kinds of problems with builders and cost overruns and Vig was glad that James was able to be at home to handle everything. It wasn’t until he returned that he found some things that were off and with a little digging he stumbled across some papers that he wasn’t meant to see. Vig had gone into denial briefly before he figured out that James had embezzled from him for years and most recently had schemed to divert funds allocated to the house into his own bank account and wrote them off as overruns. Vig was devastated, and without going into detail, Brian explained to Orlando that things spiraled rapidly out of control after that. Brian couldn’t be there with him, he was in Hong Kong at the time, opening his latest venture. Instead, Sean had flown over and with very little ceremony kicked James out, convinced Viggo to press charges and supported him in getting the whole legal process underway. Brian stopped then, telling Orlando that it was really Viggo’s story to tell and that he had probably said too much as it was. He then alluded to the fact that there was more, much more, and things had gotten inexplicably worse if that was possible. “Viggo hasn’t really let anyone close to him since then, not that I can blame him. I just wish he would, I don’t know, open himself up to the possibility again, you know.” Brian glanced over to see how Orlando was taking in all this info, and whether he’d said too much, made the wrong assumptions.
Orlando had finally got some answers but found that there were so many more questions. He knew that the man in the horrible sketch was James, he was sure of that now. The poem hastily scribbled on the page made more sense now as did why Sean was there. What ever had happened, Sean had been with Viggo, if not in person, then definitely with his support and love just like he had been there during the New Zealand incident for Orli. The two men sat in the car for a long time talking, both conscious of not revealing too much.
“So why did he go back to the house if it held so many bad memories?” Orlando asked curiously.
“It wasn’t finished until much later, they never lived there together. In fact, I think you’re the only person other than Sean that’s he’s let stay with him. Like I said, he’s been alone since everything happened.” Brain added sadly.
“Fuck Brian, I’m such a twat.” Orlando ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. “I was so wrapped up in my own life that I never even imagined that Viggo might have his own problems. He probably hates having me there in his space.” The memory of what he had done earlier and how he violated the other mans space, flooded him with embarrassment. “I should leave; I need a find somewhere else to stay. Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”
“Orlando. Stop. Viggo would have you stay if he didn’t want you to. In fact I’m asking you to stay, it’s the first time in three years that I’ve seen him let anyone into his life that isn’t part of our inner circle. If he’s at the point where he’s comfortable making new friends, I don’t want to do anything to ruin that. Please Orlando, stay.” Brian smiled and gently squeezed his arm. “Really, I think you should stay.”
Orlando wasn’t so sure. After all the shit he’d put Viggo through already he was probably doing more damage than any good that might come of it. Seeing the look of pleading in Brain’s eyes he knew he’d stay, it’s what he wanted anyway and gave his new friend a nod. “Okay, I’ll stay.”
“That’s great Orli, I’m glad.” In that moment a bond was formed between the two young men, an unspoken understanding that come what may, they would do their best to ensure that the man they had been discussing was kept from being hurt.
TBC
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Date: 2005-08-17 01:34 am (UTC)*Hugs and snuggles*
rb