vigorli

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

super-geeky-cool banner by the totally cool

galor5!

author: stormatdusk
pairing: Viggo/Orlando
rating: adult
warnings: m/m sex; otherwise, none
disclaimer: this is only fiction.
a/n: starts here
picks up directly from part 5

A date.

Like, an actual date. Not like the half-dozen times in the past two weeks when he’d gone over to fiddle with Viggo’s equipment. Er - … well. You know.

A date. With Viggo.

Oh god.

Orlando had left the roses with Elijah so he could give them to his mom; that way they wouldn’t go to waste. He’d fended off Elijah’s eager questioning about Viggo, saying – honestly – that he was going to throw up if he had to talk about it or think about it any more right then. He just wanted to finish his shift and get out and… he didn’t know, but he had to do something to help ease his nerves.

Elijah was a pal about it, and backed off. But he couldn’t resist zipping over to Wiki to check out the meaning of orange roses. And then gleefully informing Orlando.

Oh god.

Orlando was really glad he’d walked to work that day. Though it wasn’t far, maybe the walk home would help relax him, burn some adrenaline. He could get outside, get some fresh air, and for Pete’s sake, think about anything other than Viggo, at least for a few minutes. Yeah.

He strolled past the bakery. The warm, yeasty smell of homemade bread drifted out to tempt him.

Um.

Orlando walked a little faster.

A poster at the mini-mart announced a sale on frozen French toast sticks, two for - -

Oh. Um.

Orlando scrunched his shoulders and walked a little faster.

When he got to the liquor store, he figured he was safe. There in the window was an ad for Asti Spumante, with two hands pictured holding champagne flutes…

…in a toast.

ARGH!

Orlando hobble-jogged the last block to his house. It wasn’t pretty.

The discomfort of jogging a block with a hard-on, though, did help tame said hard-on. By the time he climbed the steps to his porch, he was feeling more in control, and just a little bit proud of himself. Maybe he could go more than ten seconds without thinking of Viggo and making a mess of himself.

He opened the door and threw the mail on the counter.

DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNN.

There it was.

The Hamilton Beach 24559 Model with Extra-Wide-Slots. In Classic Chrome.

Staring at him like the Eye up on Barad-dûr.

He didn’t even know he’d unzipped and grabbed for his dick until he came back to himself, leaning heavily on the counter and panting and wondering what the heck was wrong with him.

Oh god. That toaster was going to need some serious cleaning.

And the Friday Night – er, no – Saturday Morning Laundry pile just got bigger.

He sighed.

ETA: continued here