vigorli

Okay, this one had been languishing unfinished for years. Then I started posting here and received such awesome reviews that it has made me go into my WIP file and see if I can't complete some. Here's one that seemed to come together. Hopefully, you can't see any difference in what was written back in '04 and what I wrote last week! Oh, and um, forgive me for attempting to use English terms and trying to pull off an Irish accent on 'paper.'

Title: Better Late than Never
Author:

ranmaru
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Just when things seem hopeless...
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, just playing.

“Sorry Orli, we kind of wanted it to be a Hobbit thing.” Elijah’s weak smile made Orli’s stomach tighten.

“Right! Anyone over five-six need not apply.” Billy snickered at his own joke and tipped back another beer. Beside him Dom nodded more than necessary.

“Oh fuck you,” Orli mumbled, turning to leave the inebriated Hobbits to their own mini gathering.

“Maybe we can get together tomorrow,” Astin suggested, and got pegged by a peanut for his kindness.

“Maybe, I’ll just go find out what Viggo’s doing then.”

“He’s out.”

Orli stopped and looked at Elijah in surprise. “Out? He didn’t mention he was going out.”

“What are you, his mother?” Dom yelled before collapsing against Billy, who pushed him away. He was laughing as he fell on the floor.

“No I…where’d he go?”

Astin shrugged. “Miranda told him it was a secret.”

The name froze the Brit’s blood. “Miranda? Miranda Otto?”

“No, Miranda the stablewoman.” Elijah rolled his eyes.

“It could happen,” Orli said in his own defense.

“She’s sixty-something you dick!”

“Maybe he likes older women!”

“Guys!” Astin got up and put a comforting hand on Orli’s shoulder. “I don’t mind if you stay-“

“Uh no, I’m good.” Orli grinned and backed towards the door. “I’ll find something.”

“Or someone,” Elijah said with a smirk.

“Yeah, right. I hope you all have terrible hangovers tomorrow.” Orli made it out the door but he heard the patter of peanuts as they hit the door behind him.

There was only one thing to do at a time like this, Orli determined as he walked back towards the trailer he was sharing with Viggo and Bean. “Off to the grocery, buy enough alcohol to sink a ship and get pissed by my onesies,” he said aloud. He stopped. That had sounded less pathetic in his head.

“Okay then, Plan B.”

“What’s plan B?”

Orli jumped and spun around to see Bean coming towards him. “Get pissed with someone other than myself?”

“The Hobbits busy?”

“Yeah.”

“And Vig’s with Miranda.”

Orli shrugged. “Just you and me, man.”

Bean threw his arms around Orlando’s shoulder and began to lead the younger man to his car. “Cheer up, I’ll pretend to be the Man who would be King and you can pretend you’re not hot for his middle-aged ass, and it will be fun.”

Orli tripped and grabbed hold of Bean before he did a face plant. “Wh-what?”

“I live with you, Orli. I’m not blind.” Bean unlocked the passenger door. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve caught him giving your ass a look or two.”

Orlando had to open the car door or else he’d be looking behind himself. “Yeah?”

“Get in, idiot.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes before Orlando had to ask. “You were serious, when you said that about Viggo and my ass?” He winced at the pathetic little hopeful rise in his voice at the end.

Bean chuckled. “Yeah, I was serious.” He gave his passenger a glance. “Do you ever watch the dailies?”

Orlando shrugged. “Nah, I hate watching myself. I see mistakes everywhere and overdo it the next day or whatever. They make me paranoid.”

Bean nodded in understanding. “It took a while to get over that,” he sympathized. “But,” he said, as he pulled into the parkinglot of a small pub, “you might want to get over yourself and watch them.”

Orlando flipped off his co-star over the roof of the car as he got out. “Fucker. What are you going on about?”

“Ah nothing,” the older man sighed, but he was grinning. “Just…watch our once and future king. Seems the Man has a thing for Elves, and not of the female variety.”

Orli felt his jaw drop. “You’re taking the piss.”

“Am I? Hm.” Bean opened the door of the pub and walked through without waiting for his companion who was still standing in the parkinglot staring into space.

~*~

The drunken pair took a cab back to the set, singing off-color ditties to the amused driver. Orli tripped twice on the ten yard walk to the trailer, sending Bean into hysterics each time, rendering the man unable to help his friend up. The lights were on in their humble abode and Orli felt that nauseous feeling in his stomach take a turn for the worse. Was Viggo in there with Miranda? Were they doing naked things that they shouldn’t be doing because Viggo was Orli’s? His stomach rolled and he fell to his knees and threw up.

“Mother o’ God,” Bean slurred, his accent heavy. “I’m no’ taking ya drinking no more!”

“What’s going on?”

Orli groaned, humiliation spreading throughout his body at the sound of Viggo’s voice. He felt a hand gently cup the back of his head and he shuddered.

“Think you can make it to the trailer?” Viggo asked softly.

“Eh, jus’ carry the lad. Like a husband does his wife o’er the threshold!” Bean laughed, leaning against the trailer for support.

“Go inside, idiot,” Viggo said affectionately to his friend.

“Yes, my captain, my king!” Bean smacked himself in the chest and fell against the trailer before righting himself and stumbling up the metal steps.

Orli didn’t dare move, afraid that Viggo would take his hand away and yet the smell of vomit was making him feel sick again. “Um…”

“If you’re done, let’s go before I lose my supper as well.” Viggo helped the younger man stand with a hand under his arm. He slid his arm around Orli’s waist. “You’re too young to be doing that,” he berated softly.

Orli snorted. “Stop thinking like an American,” he mumbled, Viggo’s words cutting him. He hated being so much younger than Viggo, hated that gap that marked him as immature and grouped him with Viggo’s son and not his collegues. It was so goddamned frustrating to know Viggo would never see him as anything more than a kid.

“I’m thinking like a father,” Viggo said and Orli felt his heart plummet.

“I think I’m going to be sick again,” he said, pulling away from Viggo and tripping his way into the trailer. He slammed into the wall of the tiny bathroom and yanked the door shut, clutching the door handle and fighting back tears. His shoulder hurt, his knees hurt, his throat burned worse than behind his eyes. Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just accept that Viggo wasn’t available to him, never would be. He’d never be old enough and Viggo would never be young enough. Never.

“Orli?”

“Go away,” he croaked, pissed at Viggo for sounding so concerned when it was his fault Orli was hiding in the cramped space.

“Can I get you anything?

“Go. Away.”

Orli pressed his ear to the door and he would have sworn he heard a sigh before Viggo said, “If you need me…” He was such a bastard. The trailer creaked as the other man walked away from the door, towards the seating area. Orli let go of the door handle. He looked at the closed seat of the tiny toilet and sighed. He didn’t feel sick anymore, just a little dizzy, and his hands fumbled a bit before he could unbutton his jeans. He almost forgot to lift the lid, had a near miss when he leaned too far forward and slapped a hand against the wall to keep himself from falling face first into the pisser while he…pissed. He snickered, shook off, and tucked himself away.

When he finally emerged, his mouth tasted minty fresh, his skin was cool and moist from splashing his face with water, but he was still a bit dizzy and he stumbled slightly when he saw Viggo sitting alone on the couch. Bean must have already gone to bed and Orli decided that was definitely a good idea but before he could turn around, Viggo spoke.

“Come here.”

And Orli slowly made his way towards him because he was pathetic enough to think that even if he was going to get some kind of lecture on drinking and being too fucking young it would be worth it because Viggo cared enough to do it.

Orli dropped down on the couch and groaned because trailer couches did not have the same cushion to them as a regular one. He heard Viggo make a noise and gave the older man a glare when he saw that Viggo was smiling.

“What?” he muttered, slouching down and crossing his arms over his chest. He smelled a little of puke. Shit. “Wait, I need to change first.”

“I was in the stables for most of today. Believe me, I don’t mind if you smell.”

Orlando turned that over and maybe he was drunker than he thought because it made enough sense to make him feel okay about sitting next to the guy that made him hard just from breathing while smelling like vomit. How romantic.

“Let’s get the lecture over with then,” he said, his chin almost hitting his chest. His eyelids were getting heavy and he was fighting the pull to let them just close.

“I’m not…” Viggo sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I just want to know what’s wrong.”

Orli snorted. “No you don’t.”

Viggo was quiet and Orli looked over at him. He was staring at Orli looking hurt. “I do.”

“Vig-“

“Is it because the Hobbits wouldn’t let you stay with them? I could talk to-“

“No! Fuck no.” Orli sighed and let his arms slide to the cushions. He closed his eyes. “Where did Miranda take you tonight?”

“For dinner. A Thai place, you’d have liked it.”

Orlando flinched when the hand closest to Viggo was lifted, cradled between two rough palms. He wanted to pull away, he wanted to open his eyes and see it, see the contrast of his pale skin against Viggo’s tanned flesh. He did neither, just sat there, very still, holding his breath and waited.

“I’m twenty years older than you. I have a twelve year old son and an ex wife. I was experimenting with illegal substances before you were even born.”

Orli gave a little huff of laughter even as his throat and eyes began to burn. His hand was lifted higher, his arm straightened, and he felt the rasp of Viggo’s whiskers before the press of wind- chapped lips against his knuckles.

“I want you so much I can’t sleep. I just lay there and listen to you breathe and Peter thinks it’s the genius of make-up that makes Aragorn look so worn.”

Orli could only stare into Viggo’s pale blue eyes as his world was re-aligned.

“This is not the smartest thing I’ll ever do, but I think it will rank up there with the best.”

“What’s that?” Orli whispered as he leaned towards Viggo.

He didn’t get an answer, just one of those cocky half-smiles that made his stomach clench before Viggo was kissing him.

“Bout fucking time,” Bean muttered, shaking his head. He ducked back through the closed curtain that separated the main room from the sleeping quarters and rolled onto his bunk.

It took about a minute for Orli’s brain to kick-start and then he was shoving away from Viggo. “Vomit!” He covered his face with his hand and tried to get his breathing under control. “Fuck’s sake.”

There was a moment of silence that was broken by a stifled snort of laughter. Orlando peeked between his fingers at Viggo who was pressing his lips together so tightly the skin around his lips was turning white. His eyes were squinted almost shut.

“Oh just laugh,” Orli muttered and suffered in an embarrassed quiet as Viggo gave in to his mirth. It took a while for Viggo to get over it, his laughter turning to wheezing then to intermittent chuckles. Finally, when Orli thought his friend might have himself under control, he dropped his hand and looked up.

“Remind me someday to tell you about the first couple of years I was married.”

Orli blinked. “What?”

“It was…interesting.” Viggo leaned closer and cupped the side of Orli’s face. “And you tasted just fine. Is there any mouthwash or toothpaste left?”

“A little.”

“Good.” Viggo pressed their lips together for a chaste kiss before pulling away. “Want anything? Coffee? Water?”

“Just you,” Orli answered honestly and could have kicked himself for sounding so sappy.

Viggo grinned. “I like that answer, but not tonight. Tomorrow you’re going to wake up with a hangover and that’s not how I imagined our ‘morning after’.”

Orlando smiled because Viggo had imagined it, had been thinking about them being together and Miranda wasn’t part of the equation. He held his hand over Viggo’s and rubbed his cheek against the rough texture of his skin. “Want to share a bunk?”

“I’d love to.”

As they settled together on Viggo’s bunk, Orli found himself immediately becoming tired from being wrapped so warmly and securely in Viggo’s arms. But something was bothering him. “Vig?”

“Hm?”

“You ever fucked a guy before?”

Viggo chuckled softly, the sound deep and vibrating in Orli’s ear. “Remind me to tell you about the year before I got married.”

End