FIC: Beginning, Part 3
Sep. 17th, 2006 06:10 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
stormatdusk.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
vigorliFIC: Beginning, Part 3
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stormatdusk
Pairing: V/O
Beta: None for this part
Rating: Adult (PG for this part)
Disclaimer: This is only fiction.
This is part 3 of the prequel to a drabble "Forgiveness." It picks up directly from Part 2, just posted.
When Orlando woke the next morning, Viggo was gone.
As he blinked at the empty bed next to him, the sense of certainty he’d felt the night before evaporated. He’d stayed awake for hours, long after the older man was snoring softly, stroking Viggo, whispering to him. He’d needed to be sure Viggo felt as loved as he could possibly make him feel. Viggo had been okay. Right?
What had he done? He’d never struck Viggo before, had never even imagined it. Even with the best of intentions, as had been the case last night, maybe he’d crossed the line. What was he thinking, doing something like that without even a word to Viggo ahead of time? Bloody idiot, he fretted. What’s he feeling? Where is he?
Orlando hurried down the steps, pulling on a thin robe as he descended. He reached the main floor and, hearing Viggo’s voice, turned toward the kitchen. At least he’s here so we can talk about this, Orlando tried to reassure himself. He rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks.
Viggo was standing at the stove, making omelets. Singing.
Nude.
Low -
ri -
der - drives a little slower…
Low -
ri -
der - is a real goer…
Orlando’s grin split his face from ear to ear.
Hips shifting, cock swinging, Viggo was unaware of his audience, and also some of the words to the song he was bouncing through, or so his frequent bouts of humming seemed to indicate. His still pink ass waved temptingly as he danced.
Orlando leaned against the wall, arms crossed, only too happy to enjoy his favorite one-man show for a few more moments before he spoke.
“Don’t tell me eggs a la pubes are on the menu this morning….”
Viggo halted mid-tune and quirked a crooked grin. “Aw c’mon; a little fiber is good for you.” He turned to smile into Orlando’s eyes. “Hey.”
Orlando crossed the room to wrap his arms around Viggo. “Hey back,” he murmured, resting his forehead against the other man’s. “You’re doing okay, yeah?” His thumbs painted soothing circles on Viggo’s back.
Viggo slowly tilted his head, nudging Orlando’s nose softly with his own and then pressing their lips together chastely. They stood there, Viggo barely moving soft lips over Orlando’s, yet somehow managing to transform the simple kiss into a reaffirmation of his life’s commitment to Orlando.
“Mmmn, yeah,” Viggo eventually broke the kiss. “Starving, too.” He smiled and turned back to the eggs. “Grab some plates?”
They ate breakfast rather quietly, stealing almost-shy glances at each other and smiling between forkfuls.
Viggo would think it through, as he did most things. Orlando would as well. They would talk about what had happened, what it meant, and what they wanted as they moved forward. But for that morning, Viggo was content to just be happy, to be secure in their love, and to allow Orlando’s devotion to him to wash the cares of the world away for a while.
Author:
stormatduskPairing: V/O
Beta: None for this part
Rating: Adult (PG for this part)
Disclaimer: This is only fiction.
This is part 3 of the prequel to a drabble "Forgiveness." It picks up directly from Part 2, just posted.
When Orlando woke the next morning, Viggo was gone.
As he blinked at the empty bed next to him, the sense of certainty he’d felt the night before evaporated. He’d stayed awake for hours, long after the older man was snoring softly, stroking Viggo, whispering to him. He’d needed to be sure Viggo felt as loved as he could possibly make him feel. Viggo had been okay. Right?
What had he done? He’d never struck Viggo before, had never even imagined it. Even with the best of intentions, as had been the case last night, maybe he’d crossed the line. What was he thinking, doing something like that without even a word to Viggo ahead of time? Bloody idiot, he fretted. What’s he feeling? Where is he?
Orlando hurried down the steps, pulling on a thin robe as he descended. He reached the main floor and, hearing Viggo’s voice, turned toward the kitchen. At least he’s here so we can talk about this, Orlando tried to reassure himself. He rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks.
Viggo was standing at the stove, making omelets. Singing.
Nude.
Low -
ri -
der - drives a little slower…
Low -
ri -
der - is a real goer…
Orlando’s grin split his face from ear to ear.
Hips shifting, cock swinging, Viggo was unaware of his audience, and also some of the words to the song he was bouncing through, or so his frequent bouts of humming seemed to indicate. His still pink ass waved temptingly as he danced.
Orlando leaned against the wall, arms crossed, only too happy to enjoy his favorite one-man show for a few more moments before he spoke.
“Don’t tell me eggs a la pubes are on the menu this morning….”
Viggo halted mid-tune and quirked a crooked grin. “Aw c’mon; a little fiber is good for you.” He turned to smile into Orlando’s eyes. “Hey.”
Orlando crossed the room to wrap his arms around Viggo. “Hey back,” he murmured, resting his forehead against the other man’s. “You’re doing okay, yeah?” His thumbs painted soothing circles on Viggo’s back.
Viggo slowly tilted his head, nudging Orlando’s nose softly with his own and then pressing their lips together chastely. They stood there, Viggo barely moving soft lips over Orlando’s, yet somehow managing to transform the simple kiss into a reaffirmation of his life’s commitment to Orlando.
“Mmmn, yeah,” Viggo eventually broke the kiss. “Starving, too.” He smiled and turned back to the eggs. “Grab some plates?”
They ate breakfast rather quietly, stealing almost-shy glances at each other and smiling between forkfuls.
Viggo would think it through, as he did most things. Orlando would as well. They would talk about what had happened, what it meant, and what they wanted as they moved forward. But for that morning, Viggo was content to just be happy, to be secure in their love, and to allow Orlando’s devotion to him to wash the cares of the world away for a while.
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