Look to the West where the Ocean is (3:2/3)

[romi.livejournal.com]

Title: Look to the West where the Ocean is (3:2/3) Read part 3:1 here

Author: Romi (romikas at gmail.com or romika)

Beta: evil_scarrlett; all remaining mistakes mine only

Pairing: V/O but Orlando is married to Sean Astin

Rating: NV 17

Summary: AU. Orlando is a young Brit who lives in Santa Barbara, California; sometimes he wonders what he is doing there.

Disclaimer: This is not for real, it is just the name, "Real Person Slash" that is real around here.

Feedback: Yes if you like Romi likes that too.

Warnings: Angst. Brr.

Notes: If you remember that the story starts on a Wednesday- well, it doesn't any longer, it started on a Tuesday. Original idea for this fic; dalehead. Manip made by xandrinucchia. There will be a short sequel to this fic.

Look to the West where the Ocean is

Three:two

The nice house in the nice Californian suburb town had; as before was mentioned; a nice and well-kept garden. The younger of the two spouses in the house spent a lot of time keeping it neat- he grew Penstemons (he never gave up hope they would attract hummingbirds),

Honeysuckles (had been given to him after their wedding to plant), and White Sage (he loved listening to the wasps and bumblebees flying in and out of the flowers’ necks) among other plants.

It was one part of the garden that was extra well planned though- the rear. When Sean had decided to build a pool Orlando wanted it in the front- he had some ideas about the phoenix aspect of the garden and that meant ponds or water in the front. But that is where Sean's limit was reached and he said no to the phoenix aspect. The front was for cars Sean said and the cars got all of the square feet; save a thin flower bed flush to the front wall of the house.

The left side- as counted from facing the front door- was the side that opened on to old mister Mortensen's garden. On that side you could walk from the front to the back; a narrow stripe of gravel and the fence that became a narrow stripe of grass and the cypress hedge. No other plants grew there.

The sun shone generously in the rear of the garden. This and the privacy aspect as opposed to the phoenix aspect were Sean's valid arguments for building the pool in the back of the house. Orlando had stood many hours all together watching the lawn being covered by oiled oak and stone and tile. He had fed the builders muffins and coffee and listened to their conversations about life in California. They asked him about England and he had replied politely.

The oak deck had a screen built of thinner oak planks on the Mortensen side and the cypresses on the other side so it was cozy and secluded. The garden furniture were solid cherry finished with a layer of high quality penetrating oil Sean explained the ten first times they sat in the garden; Sean never saw the funny thing about those words when Orlando chuckled.

Where the oak deck ended the Italian marble began. They were large rectangular blocks of exclusive pale blue stone framing the swimming pool. The stones never got too hot or too cold- even at noon the stone was comfortable to walk on. Orlando often went to sit in the garden after he’d cleared the table in the mornings; he brought a cup of tea and the morning paper. The oak had a strong, pleasant smell and the tree felt smooth and soft under his bare feet.

The pool was nothing special though. Rectangular in shape (the marble was cut rectangular with the same proportions), deep in one end, shallow in the other. A broad set of tiled steps led into the water and in the water a small cleaning robot lived. He moved constantly and ate leaves and dirt that fell into the pool; Orlando thought he was funny.

Today the cherry garden table was laid for a two person grill lunch; on a tray lay two baked potatoes wrapped in foil (almost done- to be put on the coal just before the meat was done). The grill was lit and the coal had the perfect temperature; ready to cook whatever was put on its rack. But the maker of the lunch, the decorator of the lunch table and the lighter of the grill was not there to finish the meal. He was flat on his back on the Italian marble by the pool.

He was naked and over him leaned the equally tall but broader Viggo- equally naked too and on his knees in the blue water. Viggo leaned over Orlando to see as much as possible of the beautiful face while a finger of the right hand tried its way into Orlando.

"You are so tight," Viggo said calmly to the trembling body under him. "I find it hard to believe you let me in twice yesterday- or- today?"

Close to Orlando's waist was Viggo's arm; he leaned on it and sweat from sun and arousal trickled down it. Orlando took hold of the arm where it narrowed at the elbow.

"More," he pleaded, "your mouth again Viggo…"

Viggo smiled and hunched and soon his tongue was sliding around the embedded finger. The sphincter was stretched and the wet mouth and tongue sucked, licked, teased and it made the tremble in the olive skinned body worse. Orlando's legs closed Viggo in and his fingers touched Viggo's hair- he wanted to grab it but even in this heat he did not want to capture

Viggo's head; he hated it himself and couldn’t do it to Viggo.

From the dark blonde head the hands went to Orlando's groin. The fingers traced the damp skin, he held his testes and his mind was blank of everything but the sucking and licking and teasing. Viggo had to speak twice and then act to make Orlando wake up and sit, turn around, and kneel over Viggo's face.

"Come here, my bundle of unleashed heat," Viggo said darkly and guided Orlando's crotch closer; hands placed firmly on the gaunt buttocks. Orlando stood like a dog now; legs weak but held by Viggo who kept him up and served himself from Orlando's lower body. Orlando stared down at Viggo's head and sighed repeatedly, paralyzed by the sweetness of Viggo's mouth engulfing him.

Viggo's hands triggered fuck movements- Orlando's pelvis picked them up before his mind did but when it did Orlando's eyes fell shut and the features of his face got twisted. His nails tried to dig into the crack between two blocks of stone and his hips fucked Viggo's mouth; hours of yoga helped his thighs keep up when all other strength had left him.

Viggo was a skilful lover- Orlando felt nothing of teeth or other obstacles, just slippery bumpy softness and steady sucking. Orlando moved hard, in and out, Viggo's hands urged him to do it harder and he did; mouth gaping and gasping.

But it ended- it ended- Viggo held his thrusting hips back, moved Orlando and sat up. He pulled Orlando onto his lap; held the shaking and sweating and panting body close.

"Why did you stop?" Orlando whispered breathlessly, head on Viggo's shoulder and mouth close to his ear.

"Because I want to be inside you when you have your release," Viggo said.

"No!" Orlando protested. "Release me now- I will come for you later with you inside me but now… don’t leave me hanging."

Viggo listened to Orlando's feverish mumbling and claimed Orlando's lips and his erection in the same instant. A few rubs and a few twists of the foreskin around the neck of Orlando's cock made Orlando scream a muffled scream into Viggo's mouth; Viggo gave him the orgasm and brought a finger into his ass once again. Orlando kept crying; the orgasm was red heat that burned him; he whimpered and gasped again and again, rode the shudders out.

"You are so skilled…" Orlando said. He was exhausted and needed Viggo's steady embrace a while longer, Viggo seemed content to hold the weak and warm result of his relatively easy effort.

"And you are so beyond words lovely," he replied.

~

"Come" Viggo said eventually and a moment later they were in the water. Viggo swam on his back and held Orlando. They had lots of fun when their legs got entangled and kicked each other. They sank too a few times before Viggo got Orlando to trust him enough to relax and float.

Orlando coughed to get all of the water up; Viggo towed him to a part of the pool shallow enough for him to be able to stand and hold Orlando without risk of further water swallowing.

"Have you had many lovers?" Orlando asked. He did float now but held onto Viggo, kissed his shoulder that tasted of sweat and the pool's cleaning liquid.

"A few," Viggo said and Orlando believed him to be honest. It didn’t hurt to hear as much as he had thought it would.

"How can you tell I am special then?" Orlando asked. Viggo had not said that Orlando was more special than any other lover but Orlando knew suddenly that Viggo felt it that way.

"How I know?" Viggo asked back and in his pale blue eyes jest glittered. He shifted Orlando in his arms and said,

"There is a great difference between butts and butts you see, young mister Bloom."

"It is?" Orlando laughed and Viggo took a firm hold of his waist.

"I’ll show you the difference between butts," Viggo said and heaved the laughing Orlando up on the tile suddenly.

"A special butt has a special feel to it," Viggo explained and tickle-squeezed Orlando's bottom; made him squeal with laughter. "It is very appealing and it raises your appetite."

Viggo went on to bite Orlando in what little flesh he could find. "And it raises desire in you and makes you act like a dog in heat, on hormones and instinct."

Viggo carefully pulled the soft and wet and laughing younger man off the marble floor and down into the water again. He stilled Orlando just as carefully; wanted him not to stop laughing but needed to kiss his gleaming mouth.

"Most of all, you can tell Orlando is special from how he feels in your heart," Viggo said and drew Orlando's dark curls back from his forehead and temples. Lips met again; this time chlorine tasting and warm from laughter and smiles. Orlando put his hands over Viggo's to make him keep his grip on the wet tousles.

When the chemical taste gave in an unusual sweetness entered their mouths and their kissing did not cease until what Orlando's had to air what was on his mind. He still did not dare ask Viggo if Viggo had fallen in love like Orlando had but there was something else he wanted too.

"Some special lover you have found who have not yet learned to like to give head."

It came from a need to do it but fear of proposing straight out. Viggo chuckled at Orlando's gloomy pout; his hands held Orlando's face gently.

"You are special in so many more ways than what your mouth could perhaps do to me… but are you sure- the greed you showed my shaft this night indicated differently."

Face to face- a few seconds of complete silence, shallow breaths from both hit the other’s chin.

Rough fingers, softer now from the water, walked down Orlando's sides, under the waterline and round the thighs.

"Do you want to try..?"

Viggo guided Orlando's hands to the waiting erection; slippery in the water, hard just the same. Orlando leaned close to Viggo's face again and asked him to please put his mouth back where it belonged. Devouring each other’s lips they were, Orlando shut his eyes and felt Viggo's hard on in the cool clean water.

"You are so fine," Orlando whispered and Viggo stroke Orlando's chest and his nipples and whispered back how beautiful Orlando was and how good this felt.

So strange this particular fucking device; it did not make Orlando feel the least awkward. He rubbed the skin of it slowly like Viggo had rubbed Orlando's skin but Orlando used both his hands- one was for the testes that Orlando had been so close to kissing but didn’t dare in Viggo's bed. Touching his own had always turned Orlando on; he did a lot when he jerked off.

Touching Viggo's sack made Orlando hard again; the balls were almost like his - firm and trying to escape Orlando's fingers under their thin layer of protective hide.

He heard himself speak; heard himself tell Viggo how he wanted to be open, ass exposed, and legs in the air when he jerked himself off. How he waited for the lover he had so missed- to see him while he rubbed his balls and his cock hard, wanted a mouth around it, wanted something inside himself when he came. And how he had not thought about anything but sex with Viggo from the second he woke up.

Viggo was up on the tiled edge of the pool before Orlando knew it and beckoned for Orlando to come. Orlando went down between Viggo's spread thighs and his mouth took a silky ball; tried to suck it carefully. The fit of pleasure to both Viggo and Orlando was instant. Their eyes met for a moment then Viggo's head fell backwards and Orlando opened his mouth again to try the other orb too.

He sucked Viggo and had to hand-fuck himself in the water, it made him so horny to take Viggo in his mouth and hear the sounds from him. There were some birds in the sky- Orlando would always remember that moment. The birds; the taste of pool water and Viggo's texture, the heat of the sun on his neck, it stayed in his mind for ever.

~

Viggo was a ‘from the behind’ guy he said and Orlando had concluded he was probably a ‘from the behind’ guy too. But the sex on the poolside after Viggo had stopped Orlando from more sucking and pierced Orlando instead was the best so far. Orlando was on his back again; Viggo on his knees or haunches in the water. Viggo was so eager yet so withheld- he fucked Orlando gently and fiercely, jaw firmly bit together, droplets of pool water and sweat running down its contour.

Orlando stared at his face and couldn’t get enough of what he saw. He reached out a hand, grabbed Viggo's jaw and chin, pulled Viggo closer.

"Do you like it, Orlando?" Viggo asked with the thrusts. The stern and concentrated face softened in a smile. He responded to the plea from Orlando, laid his upper body down and Orlando caught him; needed to suck the salt and water off Viggo's neck.

Blood numbed lips did so and then Orlando's head fell back; rocked without will to the side and into Viggo's head. His neck was arched, the weight of the skull rested on a spot almost on top of the head, his throat was exposed to the sun and Viggo pressed his arm under it and held Orlando.

"You have me coming now warrior," he said, pushed breaths in Orlando's ear. "You are the fieriest lover I’ve had."

Orlando spread his legs yet another bit; tendons screaming but something inside Orlando was hit when Viggo leaned from this angle. For a few seconds Orlando could take the pain for the sake of the pleasure. He held Viggo closer

closer

closer

with arms and legs; clawed his nails into Viggo's back when the man in his embrace stiffened and sucked Orlando's mouth so hard the lips screamed with pain too.

~

They wavered in the aftermath for ages it seemed; only separated the inch or so that was needed not to break Orlando's pelvis in two. Resting in the aftermath of a fight to regain Orlando's life; it slowly returned to him but it threatened to slip away again with each passing moment that did not hear Viggo say he loved Orlando too.

~

Viggo got dressed and like the handy man he had turned out to be it did not surprise Orlando that he went to check the grill. Orlando stayed in the pool, dove in deep end, chased the cleaning robot and marveled at the feel and sight of his body when he swam and gazed down on himself through the water.

Each time he went up for air he watched Viggo's back by the cherry tree table. Viggo had the protective trousers on but nothing more yet and his back was as tanned and well built as ever the noon on the Tuesday they had first met.

Viggo so much older than him, Viggo so handsome so strong so gentle; Viggo with hands that worked hard still wrote poetry whenever he had the time. Viggo with his own life somewhere in Los Angeles and only Orlando's to borrow for a few more days. And this was the last day of the working week- tomorrow was Saturday and then Sean would be home all day. But Orlando could still be in the garden alongside Viggo when Viggo painted the house. Orlando just needed to get those garden tools out of the garage tonight and then all day tomorrow was prepared for.

Viggo saw him lurking; nose just above the edge of the pool, fingers holding onto the tile.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked and smiled and Orlando's heart stopped again like it did each time Viggo looked at him and smiled. Orlando let go and fell into the water and he let himself float. He floated for as long as he could hold his breath and when he surfaced again he was not surprised to see Viggo looking down on him.

"Get up now, Orlando, we need to eat, it is long after lunchtime."

~

"How is that cut coming," Viggo asked as if he just like Orlando thought about their first encounter. Orlando held his hand forth and showed Viggo the cut that was well on its way to heal but far from it. Viggo touched the area around it carefully.

"I thought it would be better by now. Does it hurt?"

Orlando shook his head. It didn't hurt very much and especially not when Viggo's magic fingers touched him.

They sat at the table and Viggo had cooked both the meat and the baked potatoes. Orlando ate slowly. He was hungry but his body was slow in general right now; Orlando had been inside to get some butter and the salad; then his feet had moved slowly too. He had stopped briefly and looked at the walls of the hallway that were now almost completely covered in the dark red paint Viggo had put there, it was unusual and looked smart. He inspected Viggo's painting material too- the small indoor roller and the small foldable aluminum ladder.

A creeping feeling inside Orlando had told him he had missed something important and that he would never be happy in that hallway again.

~

Viggo was beautiful even when he ate. Orlando realized that his own eyes were drenched in love; but what did that matter, that was just as true a feeling as everyday dullness that drenched Orlando all other days. The meat was very well cooked; it tasted great; this Orlando believed was not only because of love. But it added to the feeling of having everything he wanted in front of him but only for a short while more.

His lower body was pounding from the unusual strain that Orlando and Viggo had put it through and his heart was heavy in both a good and bad way. He kept peeking at Viggo from under the dark curls and Viggo smiled back at him each time, the small smile he had smiled at Orlando in the kitchen the first day. But the smile did not reach the eyes; the stress that rose inside Orlando was soon unbearable.

They both spoke at exactly the same time.

"It is so well grilled, it is perfect." Orlando said.

"I am leaving in an hour, Orlando," Viggo said.

~

Orlando looked at Viggo and in his eyes was a feeling of devastated insight and shock. But his face was as carved in stone- not moving an inch. He put the fork and knife down and pinched the back of his nose.

"No," Orlando said and his mouth hardly moved either. "You are not." But he knew it was true. Viggo's attempts to speak to Orlando this morning, the few and insufficient painter's tools Viggo had brought with him, the reluctant look in Viggo's eyes now told Orlando it was true. Viggo was not staying to paint the house.

~

That blue t shirt Viggo was wearing when he painted Orlando's kitchen, would Orlando never see it again? He let out a breathing laugh that was really a sob when he remembered how he'd been naked on his bed two days ago, so ignorant of what would happen to him, and how he had wanted Viggo to enter and give Orlando his t shirt to smell.

~

"The sun is so hot today. There will never be any hummingbirds in my Penstemons," Orlando said.

And Orlando would never see Viggo's blue t shirt again.

~

Orlando's hands had left the table and were in his lap now. His head hung heavily and he looked at the hands that held each other, tried to find comfort. It was not fair, they were two and Orlando was alone.

But Viggo was still there, he had come to join Orlando, he squatted next to Orlando's chair and took the mourning hands in his own.

"You didn't know I was leaving today."

Viggo didn't ask but he seemed to want to know why.

"Sean said you…" Orlando tried. But what had Sean said? He'd said he was going to ask Viggo if he could paint the house; Viggo had said he was painting the hallway.

"I thought you were staying to paint our house."

Viggo was silent and Orlando didn't look at him. He looked at Viggo's hand instead, it was warm and held Orlando's hands firmly, and the thumb stroked the skin on one of Orlando's wrists.

Viggo would never see the cut heal. And Orlando, he would never say an honest "I love you too" to anyone but the wind from the west.

"What do you want to do, Orlando?" It was a question from Viggo this time with emphasis and concern in the voice.

Orlando's wishes and what he wanted was dimmed in the fog that was his mind right now. He knew nothing but loneliness and worry; apart from the image of the fat angels and cherubs and women in draped beds he couldn't grasp anything.

"I need to take care of the plants on the kitchen table," he replied and heard the birds in the sky again and saw Viggo's arm rest on Orlando's knee and the bend of his arm where the skin was soft and the veins visible. Orlando saw scars there that he hadn't before. He got his hand out of Viggo's tender grip and reached to touch the diminutive, almost silky, white spots.

"Are you a blood donor?"

He didn't wait for Viggo's response, locked his arms around Viggo's neck instead and was caught in the near fall by Viggo whose embrace could be both warm and compassionate, and so hot it scalded Orlando; but now was neither; just silent and soothing.

"And when the plants and the dishes and the rest of the chores are done…?" Viggo asked and his voice held an earnest plea for Orlando to think, to work through the veil that clouded his mind, to think ahead of the day before them. But Orlando's face was in the crook of Viggo's neck and he inhaled that deeply pleasant smell that was Viggo's and he knew not how he could make his mind work again.

"I love your smell," he thought. "I love your hands and your skin and your touches." He didn't say. Instead his sad and desolate lips whispered,

"When will the Honeysuckle bloom, Viggo, do you know?"

Viggo pressed his mouth to Orlando's temple, then the cheekbone, and then the small bump of a bone just in front of the ear. Orlando opened his mouth a little when the lips went there and moved his jaw- tried to feel Viggo's chin. Viggo re positioned himself and sat on his knees, held Orlando harder and whispered back to him,

"Met by a lake near the sun- Your mouth and eyes, arms and legs, melted as though we'd know each other well…"

Orlando closed his eyes hard and felt the throat tighten.

"… and needed only rekindle warmth of the familiar. As if patience was rewarded and now we'd share everything."

Feather light fingers caressed Orlando's face and Orlando bit the angst back with all strength he could muster. Viggo kissed his head again and sighed.

"I know many things," he said, "but I do not know when your Honeysuckle will bloom, Orlando."

~

During the hour that passed from when the dagger had been stabbed in Orlando's chest

and cut out his heart, cut all the veins and arteries and capillaries; cut out his eyes so he could never see again; his tongue so he could never speak again or kiss for that matter; cut off his ears so he could never hear again; cut the skin off the fingertips so he could no longer touch things and feel them; cut his stomach so the guts fell out on the oak boards with their layers of high quality penetrating oil

Orlando did indeed clear the patio table from lunch things and the kitchen table from the plants; plants Orlando would not touch again ever in his life. But of this he was oblivious then.

The pain he felt was of a kind he had never before believed possible. It was like his hearing was so sensitive each small sound from Viggo in the hallway was of a decibel that could permanently damage the eardrum. Or like his skin was so sensitive the smallest pressure, from holding the butter even, was so intrusive the skin threatened to burst.

He hurt so much he had to rest after removing the last plant. He stood still and pressed his knuckles as far into his mouth as he could. His flexible joints (he had always had very flexible joints) let him fill his mouth with the dented part of his left hand and then he bit it- bit it hard and screamed without sound for as long as his lungs could keep up. Then he put his hands over his eyes and walked by inner navigation to the stairs.

Viggo said something to him. The tone of voice alone made Orlando's heart race; his feet stopped being compliant, he felt a taste of bile in the back of his mouth. Before Viggo could hurt him any more Orlando shut his ears with his hands and prayed to his right leg to please, please, please lift his foot. But Viggo was faster than Orlando's leg and the man with the key to Orlando's happiness in a firm grip took Orlando in his arms.

"Orlando-" he said and this Orlando did hear; he had slipped his arms around Viggo too; they were under his shirt where the skin was so warm and so soft and so full of promises. His face was nested next to Viggo's neck again and Viggo smelled so good, like a man, like a man should, like the man Orlando had lost his heart to and who was on his way to leave him this very instant.

"Are you leaving now?" Orlando breathed- he was out of breath- and Viggo's hands ran over Orlando's upper body and his lips stole Orlando's; soft like petals on roses. The softer his kisses were the more of a man Viggo appeared to be.

"Are you done with your cleaning and your washing?" Viggo asked instead of answering Orlando's question. That meant Viggo was indeed leaving Orlando concluded. And Orlando couldn't watch this man leave in the state he was in now.

"Wait for me," he said. With the strength of a lion he pulled himself from Viggo's embrace and closed his eyes again not to see what Viggo thought of this.

"I'll be right back."

~

In the walk in closet he found the last pair of chinos Sean had given him money to buy, they were stylish if you liked chinos. He found one of his shirts; ironed and starched and very fresh. He had been barefoot because he had planned to touch Viggo's working-boot-clad feet as often as he got the chance today. He hadn't and now it was too late. Orlando found a pair of thin socks and a pair of indoor shoes. Sean had a similar pair.

He took all his clothes off; only hesitated when he got to the briefs but pulled them off too; tried not to come in contact with his own skin. Then he dressed in a new pair of briefs and the chinos and the shirt and the thin socks and the indoor shoes and finally he went to a drawer and took the wedding anniversary necklace out with trembling hands. He did not look himself in the closet mirror; he didn't need to. As soon as the necklace was around his neck and his hair was brushed back from his face Orlando walked downstairs again. His back was very straight.

~

Viggo waited close to the front door. The smell of paint was thick in the air; the vision of Viggo with his face full of emotion blurred on Orlando's retina.

Orlando stopped and stood bravely on the hallway floor that Viggo now had freed from its paper protection. Orlando did not see Viggo's painting tools or any waste; Viggo must have removed them already, and Orlando must have been upstairs longer than he thought.

"Good-" he said. His fingers curled in the chino pockets when his throat kept the last word down.

"…bye. Good bye," he tried and succeeded.

Viggo opened his mouth and for a few seconds Orlando expected just anything from him.

"Good bye-" Viggo replied eventually. Like a question, like he was confirming it, like he said it himself- Orlando couldn't tell which. It was dead silent until Viggo shook his head and closed the distance to Orlando.

"Orlando-" he said but Orlando put a hand up; warded him off. He clenched his hands and his teeth; determined not to say too much.

"Are you married, Viggo?" he asked.

"No," Viggo said softly. "I am not married."

Viggo had given up his attempt to come near; but nothing in his body posture or face or tone of voice revealed any resignation. He spoke just as softly as he had ever done.

"My father lives next door and any time you want to come in contact with me please just speak to him. He can find me any time of day… or night."

"Leave," Orlando said. "Please."

Viggo put a hand on the doorknob but he didn't open the door. His blue eyes gazed at Orlando and Orlando preferred to think that Viggo tried to remember all he could of Orlando before he walked out. That was exactly what Orlando tried to do with the image of Viggo.

"And if you want to kiss me you can't," Orlando said. "This house has seen our last kiss."

~

Orlando waited and waited and waited in the kitchen window not to miss Viggo's departure from Santa Barbara. Not one muscle in his body moved; his eyes were fixed on the U-Haul; his lower body still heavy and warm from the love it had received.

When Viggo walked up to the car finally he was wearing the blue t shirt. Orlando couldn't believe his eyes. His hands went to cover his mouth and a nameless pain- worse than the previous- filled his chest and made his stomach cramp; he retched; almost threw the baked potato up. He forced his eyes open and stared at Viggo's back as long as he was visible.

As soon as the small truck had left Orlando stepped away from the window and reached down, removed one comfortable indoor shoe.

"No…" he said and pulled the sock off. "No!"

He bared his other foot too, stumbled, straightened his back, almost fell over again, and froze in a hunching position to protect his inside from breaking.

"Viggo!" he whispered, pressed his hands to his face. Stood completely still for a few seconds, tried to find his balance.

And then he walked out into the newly painted hallway and he threw himself towards the nearest wet wall.

"Viggo!" he screamed. "Viggo!"

His nails clawed the surface once, twice- over and over again and he slammed his head in the paint once too. From his chest came hissing sounds and he did what he could to ruin the walls, the paint, himself. He bounced into all of the walls in the asymmetric room and he screamed

"No, no, no, no-" without it helping him the least.

He slammed his fists on the wallpaper and paint covered concrete wall to the garage, the tree wall to the kitchen, the plasterboard wall to the living room. He slammed his fists and his body into the walls so many times he ended up covered in paint; exhausted. By then he had no voice left either. He fell to his knees and embraced them, sat on his haunches; like a fetus- heard his pulse ring in his head and felt it hammer in his limbs.

Viggo was gone and Orlando was still here. It was unbearable.

~

When Sean came home Orlando was in the far end of the garden. Orlando had stood there a long time; he wasn't sure how long.

"Darling!" Sean shouted from the veranda door. Orlando turned to look at him; Sean had stopped and seemed afraid to come closer.

"What happened? Why…" Sean said but then the words came to and end and Sean started waving violently, waving to make Orlando come closer instead.

"Why are you covered in paint? What are you doing?"

Orlando watched him; impassive; lips and eyes swollen; curly locks of hair smeared to his forehead. He spoke, quietly and not for Sean to hear, really.

"I am trying to see the ocean- I thought it would perhaps tell me something."

"Orlando!" Sean demanded. "Come here right now and tell me what is going on! You can't behave like this! Messing things up!"

"What do you mean?" Orlando burst out; rage overtaking the pain suddenly.

"You are acting silly!" Sean growled.

Orlando gasped and stared at Sean in disbelief.

"Why have you ruined the paint? The carpenter did not work for free, you know!"

Orlando whined; involuntarily- he couldn't believe his ears.

"And your clothes? Do you think I work all these long hours for you to buy things and then ruin them?"

Orlando hit his chest with his fisted hands and he stumbled up to the opposite side of the pool from where Sean was standing.

"What- the- fuck are you saying?" he hissed. "Do you think I have done this for fun?"

Sean was gaping but this time he found nothing to say before Orlando went on,

"I am dying of pain because I have been left by the first person who saw me- as a person- as someone valuable! I am dying of pain and you speak about my clothes!"

Orlando's chest tightened- he got and instant fear of lung collapse. But he couldn't keep silent.

"Viggo!" he cried and dug his fingers into his wet dark-brown-turned-dark-red hair. "It was him- and he left me!"

Orlando saw the disbelief in Sean's eyes before the man who was his husband spoke. And Orlando had time to think

"Oh my God Viggo saw me- he could tell who I was- better than I ever could-"

And it dawned on him that he had made a very big mistake.

"He…" Sean said, "What do you mean 'he saw me'? What was there to see?"

All air had left Orlando and he needed to regain control over his breathing. He stared at Sean and as always, Sean was not mean, he was just a complete idiot when it came to what Orlando felt.

"He was a carpenter who painted our walls, Orlando," Sean said soothingly. "You have always fancied craftsmen- the same with the pool builders."

Orlando's hands went to the collar of his shirt. It was amazing; here he was, face and hands and clothes covered in red paint and Sean seemed to talk to him as if they were watching the local news on TV.

"Right there," he said hoarsely, "right there where you are standing, we had sex a few hours ago."

Orlando unbuttoned his shirt; ripped a button; revealed his chest. Sean was gaping and shaking his head and Orlando wasn't sure he'd heard. So he spoke louder when he said

"Here, and here, and here-"

He nodded to his chest, showed Sean marks on the skin there.

"These are marks from Viggo's hands and mouth."

"No," Sean said. "You are delirious. You have been to a clinic to cure your asexuality- it is impossible. I am going to call my mother."

"And here!" Orlando said, lifted his chin, made a useless attempt to wipe the paint off, "here are more marks- from last night- when I went to his room and we had sex there too."

Sean clapped his hands together and shouted, "You need help! I am calling Patty!" He looked at Orlando as if he tried to threaten him and then he walked back inside the house. Orlando remained where he was- an inch from the edge of the pool. He stared down into the blue water; watched the robot move. Lifted his arms slowly; stretched them out to the sides.

He let himself fall and the slight pain from hitting the surface was good pain.

~

He spun slowly; floated and made random strokes to stay under the waterline.

The water was colored red instantly; the paint swarmed in clouds and swirls around Orlando and behind him. He watched it and was fascinated by the way it moved.

When he came up for air Viggo stood there- on the poolside, just where the tiled stair began.

Orlando laughed at this true fit of delirium. "Do you know what?" he said and swam to where he could stand. "I told Sean we shagged but he didn't believe me."

"He didn't?" the delusion said.

"No." Orlando chuckled, wiped his face, paint and water gushed down it. "And what more! When I spoke to him I realized that I was wrong when I thought you hadn't fallen in love with me like I had with you. You said a thousand things that I could have listened to. But my ears weren't open."

"Are they now?" Ghost-Viggo asked.

"Yes," Orlando replied and made it to the steps. He couldn't stop laughing. He wanted to see if his touching sense could meet this strange thing too.

"Good," the thing said the same moment Orlando's hand landed on a most solid foot. Orlando narrowed his eyes and peered up at what seemed to be a real person. The Viggo looking person spoke again.

"Because I have come to tell you that I love you and that I am here to take you home with me."

The End