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 21

omg new banner made by the thankfully tornado-free
galor5!
toaster of doom!icon cooked up by Chef
alliwantisanelf!
Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Gosh, it was nice waking up at Viggo’s house.
Especially waking up in Viggo’s bed. In Viggo’s arms.
Viggo was still asleep, breathing softly next to Orlando's ear, and his arms were all snug around Orlando’s waist, and his business was keeping Orlando’s butt all nice and warm and sort of... fur-covered.
And he smelled amazing, all toasty-sleepy-Viggo-y.
It was like waking up to find someone had already made Orlando toast. In bed. With hugs and butt-warming services.
All for free.
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Oops. Orlando had forgotten the toaster out on the front seat of the van last night.
Actually... maybe somewhere in his head, he'd sort of decided to leave it there, on purpose. Because, really, what was he supposed to tell Viggo: hi, Gorgeous Boyfriend, yes, I realize that most people have a teddy bear or a lucky rabbit’s foot or something, but since I’ve known you, I’ve become particularly fond of my toaster?
It wasn’t like Orlando needed to have it near him, anyway. He'd just known that he was going to be away alllll night, and well... what if the toaster got lonely?
Okay, yeah, that was weird.
It was still early, Orlando could tell, but he wasn’t sleepy any more. He carefully worked his way out of bed, managing not to disturb Viggo, and slipped into the Viggo-scented robe that he was starting to think of as “his.”
Huh. That was… that was a little freaky.
Kind of nice, though.
He went to the kitchen looking for something to drink.
Orlando had never been a coffee drinker. He always loved the smell of it when his roommate made a pot. And when his mom used to take Sam and him to the mall when they were kids and let them go into the Gloria Jean's store and lift up the lid on the bin of raspberry-chocolate beans and just breeeathe it in for a few seconds. But the taste completely turned his stomach. For a few months, he had tried to be a sport for Elijah's sake, and taste all the variations that Elijah begged him to try from the coffee place down the block from Best Buys ‘R Us – latte and mocha and frappah-something and cappah-whatever – but when it came right down to it, they were all coffee, somewhere down in there, and just, yuck.
It was just weird that some people really seemed to want him to like coffee. Orlando could never understand why. Was it part of some alien plot to take over Earth, to get everyone hooked on coffee and then rule by controlling the bean supply? Maybe Sauron would've had better luck getting the Ring back if there had been coffee in Middle Earth.
Yeah, Boromir totally looked like a coffee guy. Gimli, too.
Huh. It was sort of like Riker's mind game from Risa again. Maybe he should pop in that episode and watch it tonight.
Oh, wait - - he and Viggo were going to watch The Two Towers EE tonight.
This was already turning out to be the best weekend ever!
Anyway, hopefully Viggo would have something in the kitchen besides coffee....
Wow, what was that sitting on the counter?
Was that... Tang?
Orlando blinked.
Viggo didn’t drink Tang. At least, Orlando was pretty sure he didn’t. Not many people seemed to, actually.
Well, Viggo must drink it, because there it was.
Orlando smiled, thinking about Gorgeous, Sleeping, Tang-drinking Viggo, just down the hall, all snuggled up.
He found a mug and mixed up a glass of Tang. Viggo didn’t have any Babylon 5 mugs. Maybe Orlando should get him some, as a gift.
Oh – that reminded him of an idea he’d had. He carried his mug down the hall and stepped quietly into Viggo’s studio. He just stood in one place for a minute, looking around. He hadn’t seen the studio very well, just in candlelight the other night.
It made him feel sort of… reverent, kind of, just being in here, just looking at it all. Everywhere he looked, there was color, and chaos, and texture, and warmth.
It was so different than Orlando's workplace, with all its metal and chrome and plastic and wires everywhere. Orlando loved that stuff, for sure.
But this was... good. This was really good, too.
He touched the top of the old dresser. Wow, it was older than he'd realized, the other night when... well - when Viggo had -
when they'd...
when Viggo had... fucked him. Right here. Leaning on this dresser. Like, 30-some hours ago.
Oh god, that had been amazing.
The dresser was carved, dark wood, and there were stains and scorch marks on its top. The candles were sitting there still, with notes and bits of colored papers and other stuff strewn around them. Some of the melted wax had spilled over onto the papers, then hardened on them. It was kind of a mess.
Orlando could see writing on some of the bits. Words, phrases, just stuff, here and there.
...beautiful in your unknowing...
...see if i could touch you deeply enough
to exchange some of my soul for yours...
...too fast and you might hide away...
...buy Tang...
Orlando pushed up his glasses and peered. That was kind of strange, that a little grocery note was there amid all of Viggo's art scribbles.
But art in general didn't make much sense to Orlando, so he was certainly not one to judge.
Maybe Viggo would want to use the magnet board Orlando'd given him. That might help give him some more room to work. Or even just to bring out more candles, since Viggo had said he liked their light.
Yeah, Orlando knew a good gift for Viggo.
He turned his attention to the rest of the room. One painting was sitting on an easel, not covered, as if Viggo had left it intending to come right back. Orlando felt sort of drawn to it. It was a burst of brilliant yellows, all brightness and light. It made Orlando think of energy, of sunshine, pulsing....
“Hey, you,” came quietly from the doorway. Orlando turned.
There was Viggo. Dark blue pajama pants-wearing, bare-chested, sleep-rumpled, gorgeous Viggo. Orlando's insides got all skippy for a second, just looking at him.
Orlando smiled.
Under the Viggo-scented robe, Orlando's dick gave a happy little good morning wave, but he was pretty sure Viggo didn't see it.
Viggo padded over and wrapped his arms around Orlando, mindful of the mug in his hands. He kissed Orlando's temple. “Good morning,” he rasped.
“Hi,” Orlando whispered. Yeah, he almost did feel that way, reverent, he supposed, here in Viggo's studio. Things happened here, good things for sure, but things that Orlando didn't understand. “I hope - - um - - is it okay, I mean... that I'm in here?”
“Absolutely,” Viggo hummed, his lips moving against Orlando's temple, and Orlando's head leaned into the kiss of its own accord. Orlando tried to straighten, but his head refused and kept leaning, tilting toward Viggo's lips.
Maybe that was the problem the other day at the store, when he'd been covering a break in the Wireless Department, setting up a display, and he just could not get that stack of Jabra FreeSpeak Wireless Headsets to stop leaning. He'd taken the stack down again, checked that none of the boxes were crushed or bent, and started over, but nope, that stack was not going to go up straight, no way.
Come to think of it, the stack had been leaning to the east, towards Viggo's house.
Maybe the Wireless Headsets just wanted to be closer to Viggo, too.
Leaning Orlando sure wouldn't blame them.
“Oh good; you found your Tang,” Viggo murmured. “I forgot to tell you last night that I'd gotten some for you for when you're over here.”
Leaning Orlando blinked.
Viggo had...
Viggo had bought Tang? For his house? For Orlando?
“...going to grab a shower, wake up a little,” Viggo was saying. “Then we can talk about what you'd like to do today? Help yourself to anything in the kitchen; I'll just be a few minutes.”
Leaning Orlando watched Viggo leave the room.
Leaning Orlando's dick was feeling really freaking impressed with the whole Tang purchasing thing.
He heard the shower start.
Orlando gulped the last of the Tang, grimacing a bit – he'd made it a little strong today – plunked the mug onto the dresser, and wiped his mouth with the back of his Viggo-scented robe sleeve.
He stalked into the bathroom, dropped the robe, and threw open the shower curtain, startling his dripping wet gorgeous boyfriend.
He climbed into the tub and dropped to his knees.
Butter or NotButter: some things were just worth it.
Leaning Orlando hummed happily.
Yep. Definitely.
ETA: continued here
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 21

omg new banner made by the thankfully tornado-free
toaster of doom!icon cooked up by Chef
Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Gosh, it was nice waking up at Viggo’s house.
Especially waking up in Viggo’s bed. In Viggo’s arms.
Viggo was still asleep, breathing softly next to Orlando's ear, and his arms were all snug around Orlando’s waist, and his business was keeping Orlando’s butt all nice and warm and sort of... fur-covered.
And he smelled amazing, all toasty-sleepy-Viggo-y.
It was like waking up to find someone had already made Orlando toast. In bed. With hugs and butt-warming services.
All for free.
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Oops. Orlando had forgotten the toaster out on the front seat of the van last night.
Actually... maybe somewhere in his head, he'd sort of decided to leave it there, on purpose. Because, really, what was he supposed to tell Viggo: hi, Gorgeous Boyfriend, yes, I realize that most people have a teddy bear or a lucky rabbit’s foot or something, but since I’ve known you, I’ve become particularly fond of my toaster?
It wasn’t like Orlando needed to have it near him, anyway. He'd just known that he was going to be away alllll night, and well... what if the toaster got lonely?
Okay, yeah, that was weird.
It was still early, Orlando could tell, but he wasn’t sleepy any more. He carefully worked his way out of bed, managing not to disturb Viggo, and slipped into the Viggo-scented robe that he was starting to think of as “his.”
Huh. That was… that was a little freaky.
Kind of nice, though.
He went to the kitchen looking for something to drink.
Orlando had never been a coffee drinker. He always loved the smell of it when his roommate made a pot. And when his mom used to take Sam and him to the mall when they were kids and let them go into the Gloria Jean's store and lift up the lid on the bin of raspberry-chocolate beans and just breeeathe it in for a few seconds. But the taste completely turned his stomach. For a few months, he had tried to be a sport for Elijah's sake, and taste all the variations that Elijah begged him to try from the coffee place down the block from Best Buys ‘R Us – latte and mocha and frappah-something and cappah-whatever – but when it came right down to it, they were all coffee, somewhere down in there, and just, yuck.
It was just weird that some people really seemed to want him to like coffee. Orlando could never understand why. Was it part of some alien plot to take over Earth, to get everyone hooked on coffee and then rule by controlling the bean supply? Maybe Sauron would've had better luck getting the Ring back if there had been coffee in Middle Earth.
Yeah, Boromir totally looked like a coffee guy. Gimli, too.
Huh. It was sort of like Riker's mind game from Risa again. Maybe he should pop in that episode and watch it tonight.
Oh, wait - - he and Viggo were going to watch The Two Towers EE tonight.
This was already turning out to be the best weekend ever!
Anyway, hopefully Viggo would have something in the kitchen besides coffee....
Wow, what was that sitting on the counter?
Was that... Tang?
Orlando blinked.
Viggo didn’t drink Tang. At least, Orlando was pretty sure he didn’t. Not many people seemed to, actually.
Well, Viggo must drink it, because there it was.
Orlando smiled, thinking about Gorgeous, Sleeping, Tang-drinking Viggo, just down the hall, all snuggled up.
He found a mug and mixed up a glass of Tang. Viggo didn’t have any Babylon 5 mugs. Maybe Orlando should get him some, as a gift.
Oh – that reminded him of an idea he’d had. He carried his mug down the hall and stepped quietly into Viggo’s studio. He just stood in one place for a minute, looking around. He hadn’t seen the studio very well, just in candlelight the other night.
It made him feel sort of… reverent, kind of, just being in here, just looking at it all. Everywhere he looked, there was color, and chaos, and texture, and warmth.
It was so different than Orlando's workplace, with all its metal and chrome and plastic and wires everywhere. Orlando loved that stuff, for sure.
But this was... good. This was really good, too.
He touched the top of the old dresser. Wow, it was older than he'd realized, the other night when... well - when Viggo had -
when they'd...
when Viggo had... fucked him. Right here. Leaning on this dresser. Like, 30-some hours ago.
Oh god, that had been amazing.
The dresser was carved, dark wood, and there were stains and scorch marks on its top. The candles were sitting there still, with notes and bits of colored papers and other stuff strewn around them. Some of the melted wax had spilled over onto the papers, then hardened on them. It was kind of a mess.
Orlando could see writing on some of the bits. Words, phrases, just stuff, here and there.
...beautiful in your unknowing...
...see if i could touch you deeply enough
to exchange some of my soul for yours...
...too fast and you might hide away...
...buy Tang...
Orlando pushed up his glasses and peered. That was kind of strange, that a little grocery note was there amid all of Viggo's art scribbles.
But art in general didn't make much sense to Orlando, so he was certainly not one to judge.
Maybe Viggo would want to use the magnet board Orlando'd given him. That might help give him some more room to work. Or even just to bring out more candles, since Viggo had said he liked their light.
Yeah, Orlando knew a good gift for Viggo.
He turned his attention to the rest of the room. One painting was sitting on an easel, not covered, as if Viggo had left it intending to come right back. Orlando felt sort of drawn to it. It was a burst of brilliant yellows, all brightness and light. It made Orlando think of energy, of sunshine, pulsing....
“Hey, you,” came quietly from the doorway. Orlando turned.
There was Viggo. Dark blue pajama pants-wearing, bare-chested, sleep-rumpled, gorgeous Viggo. Orlando's insides got all skippy for a second, just looking at him.
Orlando smiled.
Under the Viggo-scented robe, Orlando's dick gave a happy little good morning wave, but he was pretty sure Viggo didn't see it.
Viggo padded over and wrapped his arms around Orlando, mindful of the mug in his hands. He kissed Orlando's temple. “Good morning,” he rasped.
“Hi,” Orlando whispered. Yeah, he almost did feel that way, reverent, he supposed, here in Viggo's studio. Things happened here, good things for sure, but things that Orlando didn't understand. “I hope - - um - - is it okay, I mean... that I'm in here?”
“Absolutely,” Viggo hummed, his lips moving against Orlando's temple, and Orlando's head leaned into the kiss of its own accord. Orlando tried to straighten, but his head refused and kept leaning, tilting toward Viggo's lips.
Maybe that was the problem the other day at the store, when he'd been covering a break in the Wireless Department, setting up a display, and he just could not get that stack of Jabra FreeSpeak Wireless Headsets to stop leaning. He'd taken the stack down again, checked that none of the boxes were crushed or bent, and started over, but nope, that stack was not going to go up straight, no way.
Come to think of it, the stack had been leaning to the east, towards Viggo's house.
Maybe the Wireless Headsets just wanted to be closer to Viggo, too.
Leaning Orlando sure wouldn't blame them.
“Oh good; you found your Tang,” Viggo murmured. “I forgot to tell you last night that I'd gotten some for you for when you're over here.”
Leaning Orlando blinked.
Viggo had...
Viggo had bought Tang? For his house? For Orlando?
“...going to grab a shower, wake up a little,” Viggo was saying. “Then we can talk about what you'd like to do today? Help yourself to anything in the kitchen; I'll just be a few minutes.”
Leaning Orlando watched Viggo leave the room.
Leaning Orlando's dick was feeling really freaking impressed with the whole Tang purchasing thing.
He heard the shower start.
Orlando gulped the last of the Tang, grimacing a bit – he'd made it a little strong today – plunked the mug onto the dresser, and wiped his mouth with the back of his Viggo-scented robe sleeve.
He stalked into the bathroom, dropped the robe, and threw open the shower curtain, startling his dripping wet gorgeous boyfriend.
He climbed into the tub and dropped to his knees.
Butter or NotButter: some things were just worth it.
Leaning Orlando hummed happily.
Yep. Definitely.
ETA: continued here