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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 7

a/n 2: I considered writing in Officer Urban pulling Orlando over for speeding and cuffing him for suspicion of driving under the influence of ginger ale and taking him in, and Captain Bean and Officer Urban introducing Orlando to a very enjoyable strip search – Jail!pr0n – woooot!

But I resisted.

You're welcome.

Orlando’s head was all woozy-spinny. Maybe that ginger ale was extra strong. He’d better drive really carefully.

His privates had other ideas, though. Ideas like HURRYUPOHGODGETTOVIGGORIGHTNOWHURRYUP ideas.

James T. Kirk at Warp 9 never moved so fast.

He knew the way by heart, having been to Viggo’s house those many times in the past few weeks. And thank goodness, too, because one wrong turn and he would’ve completely lost his mind in frustration, even worse than he did on that dark, dark day when the Stupid Sucky Sci-Fi Channel had announced they were canceling Farscape. For Pete’s sake: Ben Browder in tight t-shirts, and Scorpius in that funky wetsuit, and Muppets?? Orlando still didn’t know what they could’ve been thinking.

Oh god. He was there, pulling up in front of Viggo’s house. Deep breath.

He flung open the car door and dove out, only to be clotheslined as the purple lanyard he wore around his neck tangled itself around the gearshift. Sure, it was a really good idea to have that extra house key there in case he lost his key chain again, but darn, it hurt when that happened!

He extricated himself and then bounded up to Viggo’s house, rubbing the red choker line around his neck. He didn’t even get a chance to ring the bell before the door opened.

Oh god.

Viggo had gotten even more beautiful in the last half-hour.

“Um….” Orlando said.

He flung himself through the door and into Viggo’s arms.

Viggo was ready, and warm, and solid. He wrapped his arms around Orlando, closing the front door behind him, both soothing and stoking Orlando’s fire in an urgent embrace.

Orlando held Viggo’s face between his hands, searching out Viggo’s lips, his scent, drinking him in. He kissed Viggo with passion and abandon and a little too much spit.

It was wonderful.

Orlando sort of fuzzily wished he had some clue of what he was doing so Viggo might enjoy it even one-tenth as much as Orlando was. But that was only for a few moments, until any sense of coherence began to disappear under the waves of feeling banging through his brain and sluicing through muscles he didn’t even remember he had.

Orlando kept kissing Viggo. He clutched at Viggo’s broad shoulders, at his back, and then bravely though not quite fearlessly found his way to Viggo’s ass. And squeezed.

Oh god.

Viggo’s ass.

It was amazing. It was solid and smooth and had just enough give to let his hands really know they were there. It welcomed him, saying, hi, come on in, sit down and put your feet up, like the feeling he got when his manager wasn’t looking and he stole a few minutes to sink into that $600 La-Z-Boy floor model over in the Office Furniture department. Yeah, any office chair was ergonomically correct these days, but this baby was top of the line, with fully upholstered arms and a mid-pivot tilt.

Viggo’s ass felt like that chair. Only it was Viggo’s ass, so it was even better.

And oh – ...wow. Viggo’s ass could do a pivot-tilt of its own.

Viggo broke the kiss, panting, and moaned Orlando’s name, so deep, so close to Orlando’s ear it made Orlando shiver down to his toes. Orlando kissed Viggo again, and again.

They made it back to Viggo’s bed, somehow, one writhing torso with four legs and four arms. Orlando pushed his hands under Viggo’s shirt, grasping at the heated skin of his back. Viggo’s fingers defeated Orlando’s buttons and bared his chest. It was wonderful.

But Orlando needed more. And soon, because, well – um… just, soon. Really soon.

He pulled back, gasping for air, giving Viggo a desperate glance. “I sort of… oh god, I’m sorry, but if….”

Viggo understood. He stilled his body, putting a few painful inches between them, unable to stifle a slightly pained moan. He paused a few moments to catch his breath and regain a little of his sanity.

“What do you want, Orlando?” He touched Orlando’s lips briefly with his own, pulling back when Orlando moved to deepen the kiss.

Orlando swallowed, wide-eyed. “I want… this,” he murmured. “I want you.”

Viggo smiled and kissed him, more deeply this time, before asking, “Have you ever made love before?”

Orlando shook his head. He wasn’t embarrassed. He was only afraid that Viggo would stop. “No,” he said quietly. “I’ve never really wanted to before. But I… uh – I’d like to. With you. If that’s okay.”

Viggo cupped the side of Orlando’s face. His thumb did this slow, stroking thing over Orlando’s cheek. Orlando dimly realized that he didn’t know where his glasses were. He didn’t care.

“I’m honored,” Viggo whispered. “Thank you.”

Orlando smiled.

Viggo smiled, too. “Will you trust me?”

Orlando nodded, still smiling.

Viggo kissed him, long and slow and sweet.

He sat up, shrugged off his own shirt, slithered out of his jeans. He eased back down next to Orlando. Then he helped Orlando the rest of the way out of his work shirt, still twisted around his shoulders. He slid the flat of his hand over Orlando’s chest, over his belly, long soothing strokes of promise and perfection, before he opened Orlando’s belt and zipper and helped him ease out of his pants. Orlando whined a little at the freedom, at the coolness of the air, at the need for more.

Viggo carefully lifted the waistband of Orlando’s Fruit of the Looms over his stiff cock. Orlando’s breath caught and gurgled a little in his throat. Viggo wriggled the briefs until they released Orlando’s cheeks, and slipped them down his long legs, and off.

Viggo stretched out his full length next to Orlando, careful not to touch their bodies together yet, save for one hand to hold Orlando’s face while Viggo kissed him. Orlando was squirming quickly, too aware of the heat of Viggo’s body so close to his own, too heady with his toasty scent and with the sight of those blue eyes and those acres of goldy-tan skin. He whimpered.

“Do you want to hold me?” Viggo asked. Orlando did. He slipped his arms around Viggo and pulled, and their bodies came into full contact. Orlando gasped as his cock lurched against Viggo’s own. Viggo gasped, too.

Viggo licked his palm, then reached between them, capturing the steely lengths in his fist and beginning to stroke. Orlando’s back arched against Viggo’s weight in delicious need. He was… he was going to… oh!

He didn’t even know if he’d spoken out loud. He just knew that Viggo was kissing him, and Orlando was coming. He was coming harder than he’d ever come in his life. He was coming like a fountain. No, like a waterfall. Like Niagara Falls. Yeah, like that time when his dad and stepmom had taken him to Niagara Falls for his 15th birthday, and they had dinner in that revolving restaurant that overlooked the falls, and after dinner the waiter had brought out a big cake and set it in front of Orlando, and the whole restaurant sang happy birthday and there were sparklers on the cake so everybody was looking at him, and the sparklers were shooting little burny sparks onto his arms, and he plastered on a smile to be polite but oh god, with everyone looking at him and singing he just wanted to crawl under the table. Except it was kind of a little bit nice, too.

But yeah, he was coming like Niagara Falls.

And then he was panting, arms still clutched around Viggo, and there was a warm, sticky mess between them, and Viggo was panting too, his lips near Orlando’s ear, and it tickled a little when Viggo kissed him there.

Darn it! He did it again! This was so frustrating!

“Argh!” he panted, sort of surprising Viggo, who pulled back to look at him. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I’m not usually like this!” He blushed a little.

Viggo’s mouth tipped up. “Like what?” he rasped, “Sexy as hell?”

It was then Orlando realized that Viggo had… well – ... come… too. And that Viggo looked very relaxed. And happy.

Hey, cool!

Viggo kissed Orlando again, gently this time. He rolled to his back next to Orlando, smiling, catching his breath.

Orlando smiled. He’d made Viggo come. Well, mostly. Sort of. But it counted. Right?

He felt so manly he could almost feel his beard growing.

ETA: continued here