vigorli

Title: When Angels Fall

Author: Bwitched83uk (bwitched83uk@aol.com)

Type: RPS

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Viggo/Orlando

Summary: Orlando’s has a crush on his history teacher.

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: rawiyaparand *snoggles her*

Feedback: Please Sir, I want some more.

Dedication: Merry Christmas elivishlady09, hope you like it J

When Angels Fall

The classroom was quiet, only the faint, distant noises from the field where the soccer team were practicing filtered in. The smell of the chalk on the blackboard and the baked bread from the cafeteria down the hall filled Orlando's nostrils, and gave him a sense of comfort and safety. He loved school, longed for it even, not like his classmates who bitched about it all day and daydreamed of the weekend ahead.

School for Orlando was a place to escape, to learn new things. His favourite lesson by far was History, and not just because of Mister Mortensen. Orlando loved learning about the past, imagining a world that existed long before he ever did. He didn’t care that his friends teased him about being the teacher’s pet; Orlando would gladly be his pet any day. That was why when Mister Mortensen had asked him to stay behind after class and help him with the upcoming history week that the school was hosting, Orlando had eagerly said yes.

He had just turned eighteen and was in his last year of school. The thought of leaving this place to go to college made him feel ill. No, the thought of never again seeing Mister Mortensen made him feel ill. He had never known anyone like him. He was so confident and kind. He never lost his temper, and he was one of those rare teachers who really loved what he did and the influence he had on his pupils’ lives.

Orlando had fallen for him the second they met: he had only been fifteen and had never been with a man, despite having known for a long time that he was gay. When he had later heard the rumours going around school that Mister Mortensen himself was gay, Orlando had felt as though his heart was going to explode from both joy and fear.

"Sorry about that," Mister Mortensen said as he entered the classroom. He shut the solid, wooden door behind him and smiled at Orlando warmly. "I didn’t mean to keep you waiting."

Orlando got to his feet instantly and shook his head. "No, that’s alright. I wasn’t waiting long. I mean I was, but I don’t mind."

Mister Mortensen smiled at Orlando's stuttering and went to retrieve some supplies from the store cupboard at the back of the room. "I really appreciate this, Orlando," he said as he remerged with an armful of things. "Did you tell your parents you would be late home?"

Orlando nodded and went over to take some of the things from Mister Mortensen's arms. As the backs of his hands lightly touched Mister Mortensen's chest, Orlando swallowed hard and tried willing his checks not to turn red. "They won’t care anyway, they both work late."

Together, they set down the supplies on Mister Mortensen's desk and Orlando watched as his teacher retrieved another chair to place beside his own. "Have a seat." He gestured to the newly placed chair as he sat on his own.

Orlando did as he was told; imagining that they were sitting so close that he could feel the heat coming from the other man’s body.

"How are things at home?" Mister Mortensen asked as he opened a notebook and read down his list of things to do.

Orlando shrugged his shoulders a little and unzipped his sweater before placing it on the back of his chair. "Okay, I guess."

The truth was things weren’t okay. Orlando's dad barely spoke to him. Orlando knew his dad wished he was more athletic like his older brother had been. His dad simply didn’t know how to talk to him, so he didn’t even try. That was why he loved being at school so much, surrounded by his friends.

They had been working on their project for half an hour when Mister Mortensen stood up and went to the backroom. When he came back, he was holding a small C.D. player. "Now that everyone else has gone home, I thought we could listen to some music while we work," he said with a warm smile. His sandy blonde hair and blue eyes gave him a Nordic look, like he could have been a Viking or a Norse God in a past life.

"What kinds of music do you like, Orladno?" Mister Mortensen asked as he placed the C.D. player on the desk and retrieved some C.D.’s from the drawer in his desk.

"Um, I don’t know. I like The Beatles and, uh, David Bowie," he answered shyly. His friends were constantly teasing him for his taste in music, but he just didn’t like the music of today.

"Really?" Mister Mortense's eyebrows shot up. "Well, I just so happen to have some Bowie here."

"Great," Orladno said with a little too much enthusiasm. He was just so happy that they both shared the same taste in music.

Mister Mortensen laughed softly at Orlando's fervour and smiled at him again. He knew that Orlando had a crush on him, and knew that he shouldn’t encourage it, but there was just something about the boy that made him smile. Orlando had a unique mixture of innocence and maturity that was very rare.

As "Life on Mars" began playing softly, Mister Mortensen sat back down beside Orlando, brushing the boy’s arm with his own and making him shiver.

"So what is it you like about Bowie?" Mister Mortensen asked curiously as he began making a mock poster to promote history week.

"He’s hot," Orlando answered automatically without thinking. "I mean, um, he’s, oh fuck." His hand shot up to cover his mouth and his eyes widened, not quite believing he had just sworn in front of a teacher.

Mister Mortensen threw back his head and laughed before his face softened into an affectionate smile. "That’s what I like about you: your honesty. Never lose that."

Bringing his hand back down from his mouth, Orlando attempted a shy smile, knowing that his cheeks must be scarlet if the burning he felt there was any indication.

"And you’re right," Mister Mortensen said as he turned back to the poster. "He is hot," he said with a smirk.

Orlando found his eyes glued to the older man’s face. His chiselled jaw with the slight hint of stubble was enough to make Orlando moan at nights as he jerked himself off while thinking about his teacher’s face, his lips stretched around his erection.

He quickly turned away, licking his lips, and wondered if he would ever again get the chance to be alone with the man he had wanted since he was fifteen. Sometimes when the older man looked at him, Orlando thought he saw something, something more than just the interest of a teacher. He was eighteen now, and he would be leaving soon, would it really be wrong if something happened between them?

He turned to look at him again and stopped breathing when he saw that Mister Mortensen was looking back at him intently. Their eyes locked, and the older man knew it was up to him to look away and stop whatever it was before it started, but his eyes remained on Orlando, trapped by the boy’s chocolate brown eyes.

Orlando took in a deep breath, parting his pink, Cupid’s bow lips, and reached out his hand tentatively. Slowly, and trembling slightly, Orlando moved his hand to cover Mister Mortensen's hand that was resting on the desk.

Still, the teacher didn’t take his eyes away from Orlando's. He smiled sadly at the boy and turned his hand so that their fingers entwined. "We can’t Orlando; you know we can’t."

The words were like a sting to his heart, but Orlando wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet. "No one would have to know. I’m old enough, and you won’t be my teacher for much longer."

In his head, Mister Mortensen knew it was a cop out to accept what Orlando was saying, something to tell himself to lessen the guilt. He gently squeezed Orlando's hand and the boy could almost imagine the warmth was spreading right up his arm. "Please," he whispered as he moved closer to the other man.

The need in the boy’s eyes, the sheer need not to be rejected, made the older man’s heart twist. Orlando looked so desperate that he couldn’t bare to hurt him. He reached out his free hand and gently cupped the boy’s cheek. When Orlando slowly turned his head to press a hot kiss to his palm, Mister Mortensen gasped slightly and moved closer. He pulled Orlando closer to him and covered the boy’s mouth with his own.

Instantly, a deep ache pooled in the pit of the teacher’s stomach, and he groaned inwardly as he felt Orlando's lips moving under his own. Orlando's hand came up to clutch the front of Mister Mortensen's shirt, pulling him closer.

He knew how wrong it was; he knew he would wake tomorrow morning hating himself for it, but right at this moment he didn’t care, not with the boy’s soft lips pressed against his.

He licked slowly over the seam of Orlando's lips, making him part them and allow entry. When their tongues touched for the first time, warm and slippery, Orlando moaned and felt his cock swell considerably in his pants.

The young man slipped his hand inside Mister Mortensen's buttoned-up shirt and felt warm, firm skin. He slowly slid his fingers over so that they were resting over a hardened nipple, which he began stroking and teasing. He had never touched another man this way, but he knew that he himself enjoyed having his nipples teased.

So did Mister Mortensen it seemed, if the guttural growl that escaped his throat was anything to go by. The teacher let go off Orladno's face and began to unbutton his own shirt.

Orlando pulled out of the kiss, breathless and flushed. He wanted to see the older man’s body, he had dreamt of how it would look. He watched as the golden-tanned skin was exposed, stretched over hard muscles as it was.

Orlando knew that his teacher worked out three times a week: the man had told him so once. Orlando himself was rather skinny, and a fleeting worry that his own body wouldn’t suffice entered his mind, but he was too hard to care right now. He lifted his own shirt up over his head and watched as his teacher’s eyes darkened. Orlando's body was young and lithe but still firm. Mister Mortensen's eyes were fixed to the cinnamon-coloured nipples on the boy’s chest, and he bent down to see if they tasted as good as they looked.

Orlando moaned and let his head fall back at the feeling of his teacher’s wet tongue circling the hardened nubs in turn. The older man’s hand slid down the boy’s chest and rubbed teasingly over the bulge in Orlando's pants, squeezing just enough to make Orlando whimper.

Orlando began thrusting his hips upwards slightly, desperate for more contact, which made Mister Mortensen push down harder. He slowly unzipped Orlando's pants and slid his hand inside, smiling against the boy’s chest as he discovered Orlando wasn’t wearing underwear.

He enveloped the hot, hard, silky flesh with his hand and began sliding it up and down the shaft as much as Orlando's tight pants would allow. The feeling of Mister Mortensen's hand on him was wonderful, and he felt his cock pulsate and throb.

The older man continued to work Orlando's cock with his hand, sliding his thumb over the sensitive head. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his subconscious was shaking its head in disapproval, but it was too late to turn back now, and he wasn’t sure he would if he could.

When Mister Mortensen removed his hand, Orlando whimpered desperately and looked at his teacher with pleading eyes. With a quick look at the closed door, Mister Mortensen stood up and pulled Orlando to his feet. "Get on the desk," he said as he fumbled to open his own pants.

Orlando moaned and readily did as he was told. He hoisted himself onto the desk and wriggled his pants all the way down to his ankles. Mister Mortensen yanked them off and let them fall to the floor as his eyes took in Orlando's cock. It was long and much thicker than he had expected. He unconsciously licked his lips before pushing Orlando back, forcing him to lie down, and swooping down to give a quick lick to the head of the boy’s cock. Orlando clenched his hands into fists and bit his bottom lip to stop himself from crying out.

Holding Orlando's eyes, Mister Mortensen licked all the way up his length before suckling gently on the head. The scent of Orlando's arousal filled his nostrils and he pumped his own cock hard.

The older man took Orlando right down his throat, swallowing around it, driving the boy mad. Orlando couldn’t stop his hips from thrusting upwards, and when Mister Mortensen held him down firmly with his free hand, he let out a sob of frustration.

He watched as Mister Mortensen pulled his mouth off his aching cock and sucked on his own finger, wetting it thoroughly. The boy’s eyes widened when he realised what his teacher was about to do. Mr. Mortensen brought his finger down to circle Orlando's asshole, making Orlando gasp and jump slightly.

The older man looked down into Orlando's face: he saw want, no, need, but also fear. The fear he saw made Mister Mortensen even harder. He teasingly pushed against the boy’s entrance at the same time he lowered his mouth back down onto his cock.

Orlando moaned loudly and didn’t know whether he should thrust up into the warm mouth or push back against the finger. As Mister Mortensen sucked harder, his finger slipped inside.

It felt strange to Orlando, but not unpleasant. He closed his eyes, overwhelmed with sensations, and tried to breathe. When Mister Mortensen curled his finger and rubbed over something deep inside him, Orlando cried out loudly and brought his hands up to his teacher’s head, grasping fistfuls of the man’s hair as a way to anchor himself.

He had never felt anything so wonderful, so intimate, and he tried willing himself not to cry.

Mister Mortensen fisted his own cock fervently as he delivered the duel assault on Orlando. He sucked furiously and fucked the boy’s ass with his finger, making sure to rub over his prostate continuously.

It didn’t take Orlando long to cum: he was young and overly sensitive. He came hard, spilling himself deep into his teacher’s mouth. Mister Mortensen swallowed everything that the boy gave and didn’t let up on his finger fucking until Orlando was lying boneless on the desk.

With just a couple more tugs on his own cock, Mister Mortensen shot his load all over Orlando's chest, groaning at the contradiction Orlando made. The boy looked both innocent and sinful at the same time, lying spread naked on his desk, sated and flushed and covered in his teacher’s cum.

After a few minutes of trying to get their breaths back, Mister Mortensen leaned over Orlando's chest and licked his own cum off the slightly sweaty skin. Orlando groaned weakly and watched as he was licked clean.

Mister Mortensen placed a soft kiss to Orlando's mouth before picking up his clothes. He helped the boy get dressed and then dressed himself. "I shouldn’t have done that," he suddenly said.

Orlando looked up at him, his big brown eyes filled with fear. "I’m glad you did," he said timidly.

Mister Mortensen smiled at him slightly and let out a long sigh. "Will your parents miss you if you don’t go home tonight?"

Orladno's face instantly brightened and he shook his head.

"Good; then let’s go back to mine."

The End