vigorli

Last week I was truly overwhelmed by all of the wonderful comments in regards to my fics. Thank you everyone for enjoying these! This latest one was brought about by me reading something about Orlando becoming a vegetarian (I didn't know when he did, just that at some point in his life, he starting rooting for veggies *grin*) and my complete inability to cook.

Title: Quiche
Author:

ranmaru
Rating: PG-15
Summary: Orlando is hungry. Viggo is confused.
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, just playing
Beta'd by the lovely

lenalove!

Orlando was at a loss. He knew for a fact that he was good-looking, intelligent and great in bed. He knew that Viggo liked walking around barefoot and being bit on the neck as he came. He knew never to tell Elijah something just after he’d woken up or even just before he fell asleep because it would never be remembered. And he knew that having long hair, even if it’s a wig can be a hazard when shutting car doors on a windy day.

He knew these things.

He did not know how to make quiche.

And he was hungry.

This was a problem.

Viggo had made a quiche the week before and Orli had by chance found the list of ingredients while prowling the kitchen for supper. His stomach had rumbled as he’d remember how good Viggo’s quiche had been then he’d gotten hard remembering what had happened after the quiche was gone.

Orli was hungry and horny and feeling incredibly pathetic about life in general.

In front of him on the kitchen counter were the list and a pile of vegetables. The Brit brightened when he realized that the next step had to be to chop up the vegetables. Easy. He could do that. He quickly found a sharp knife and got to it.

When he was finished he was crying and smelled of onion but feeling better. He looked at the list again. Cheese was in the refrigerator. And milk. He looked at the date and frowned. Unfolded the top and sniffed. Still good. Triumphant, he returned to the counter then turned back around for the eggs.

Now he had everything. He reread the list. Yes, he had everything. He looked back at the list. Now what?

Nothing. The list failed him.

Orli would deny later that he’d whimpered but he had and it was a helpless little noise unfit for a man who was playing an elf almost three thousand years old. Brown eyes glared at the list.

It didn’t burn. It stared back mockingly. If it had been sentient, it would have laughed. Orlando let it flutter to the floor and stomped on it. Twice.

A glance at the oven reminded him of the ceramic dish Viggo had used. It took a few minutes of rooting around in the cabinets but he found it and placed it on the counter near the useless ingredients. No it wasn’t the ingredients that were useless. It was the chef.

Orlando stuck his tongue out at the vegetables and flipped off the dairy products.

He pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sat down facing the door. Arms resting before him, he glared at the door, willing it to open.

Stupid quiche. Stupid Viggo for not showing Orli how to make it. Would that have been so hard? What was it? Some kind of secret Mortensen family recipe? Was quiche Danish? No, danishes were Danish. Right? What was the plural for danish?

Orli let his head drop to his arms. His stomach rumbled.

He whimpered.

At least he wasn’t horny anymore.

But he knew how to take care of that. Hell, he could pull his dick out now and have a go at it. Right here in the kitchen even! That would show who was boss around here.

He’d unbuttoned his jean and was about to work on the zipper when he heard the doorknob rattle. Muttering about foiled plans and evil quiche gods, Orli got himself righted and resumed glaring at the door.

Viggo was smiling on the first step but by the second he looked concerned and a bit puzzled. “Um, hi?”

“Quiche,” Orlando tried to hiss but hissing was hard when the word started with a “k” sound and ended like “sh”. All the more reason he didn’t like it.

The older man blinked, opened his mouth to speak then seemed to think better of it and closed it again. Then he reached behind and nudged the door shut before turning back to Orli. “Quiche,” he said, clearly not understanding he was saying it wrong.

“I wanted some.”

“We ate it all last week,” Viggo said slowly. The he looked over Orli’s shoulder and saw the pile of vegetables. “You’re making more?”

Orli slapped his hand on the table and the satisfaction he got from watching Viggo jump overrode his need to hop around and whine because that damn well hurt. He stood up, trying not to look like he was cradling his now injured hand, even if he was and that was another thing the quiche could be blamed for. “No, I’m not making more.”

“Okay.” Viggo took a hesitant step forward.

“I can’t make any more because I don’t have the instructions.”

The bastard smiled. Orlando ground his teeth.

“That’s why you’re so pissy? Jesus Orli.” Viggo leaned his sword carefully against the wall near the door before walking over to the counter. “Well, you’re missing the-“

“I don’t care.” Orli got the distinct feeling he was sulking, especially when Viggo gave him a look over his shoulder, but he didn’t care. He hated quiche. “I hate quiche.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do. If you ever make it again, I’ll stop having sex with you.”

Now that was just a bald-faced lie because stop having sex with Viggo? Yeah right. But it sounded threatening even if Viggo rolled his eyes and looked slightly annoyed.

“Orli-“

“I want pizza.”

Viggo surveyed the chopped vegetables. “I can do that.”

“I want to order out.” Oh yeah, adulthood was just getting farther and farther away now.

Viggo covered his face with one hand as his shoulders quivered and Orli suspiciously moved closer to make sure he wasn’t laughing. He was. Bastard. He was in league with the evil quiche gods. A devoted follower of all things Quiche-like.

“Fine, I’ll go find the Hobbits and see what they’re doing.” In what could have been a flounce but wasn’t because Orlando Bloom was a Man and did not flounce, the Brit turned and started for the door.

“I have never, in my life, known anyone quite like you.”

This made Orli stop because it kind of sounded like a compliment. He glanced back. Viggo was leaning back against the counter, his body shielding Orli’s view of the bad quiche ingredients. He held out one hand and Orli found himself moving closer. It was like being caught in some kind of Viggo Tractor Beam. Help me Gandalf the Grey, you’re my only hope.

“There’s a slight possibility I’ve gone mad,” he mumbled into Viggo’s neck.

“I’ve heard a strict vegetarian diet will do that to you.”

Orli considered giving Viggo a good poke in the stomach but he was feeling very warm and comfortable and didn’t feel like moving.

Of course that’s when his stomach rumbled.

Viggo pushed him away, and picked up the phone. “What do you want on your pie?”

“I want fruit on my pie,” Orli said irritably. “I want peppers and mushrooms on my pizza.”

As Viggo spoke to someone who could only be in league with the Quiche gods, Orli decided to ignore the pile on the counter and relocated to the livingroom. Maybe he could meditate and rid himself of the bad Quiche Karma.

He’d almost found his center when the floor creaked and he opened one eye to glare at Viggo.

“Not going to clean up your mess?”

“No.” He shut his eye. He wanted Zen. He wanted quiet.

He felt Viggo sit behind him then long legs slid over his thighs and strong hands began kneading his shoulders. Oh screw Zen. Orli slumped back into Viggo’s chest and moaned.

“Feel better?” Viggo asked a few moments later, the warm breath against his ear making Orlando shiver.

“Mmmm.” Hunger was replaced by something else that was similar but had nothing to do with food and Orli twisted around until he was able to tumble Viggo back and lay on top of him. This was a good position.

Viggo was making those lovely needy noises and Orli was unzipping the older man’s jeans when the doorbell rang. Orlando sat back on his haunches, a panting Viggo spread out before him and closed his eyes. “Goddammit!”

He was still sitting there when Viggo returned with the pizza.

“Bad day?”

Orli opened his eyes as Viggo sat near him on the floor and opened one of the pizza boxes. The Brit took a piece and stared at it a second before taking a bite. It wasn’t bad and he swallowed before answering.

“No, why?”

“Oh, no reason.” Viggo set down the box and took his own piece and they sat there munching contentedly for a while.

“I’m full,” Orli announced after his third piece. Viggo looked up as he bit into his second.

“So?” How could the man make talking with his mouth full sexy?

“So we should finish what we started.”

“Making out on the floor?” Viggo wiped his mouth and tossed his slice into the box. “How about we move into the bedroom?”

Orlando considered this. It was even further away from the kitchen and if anyone rang the doorbell, there was a chance they wouldn’t hear it. “Okay.” He got up and held out a hand for Viggo.

“Have I told you lately you’re insane but I love you anyway?”

Orli grinned. When they were standing face to face he bussed his lover on the lips. “It’s part of the charm.”

“Maybe tomorrow I’ll teach you how to make quiche.”

Orli’s leisurely walk turned into a stalk. “That’s it! No sex for you!”

Viggo’s laughter followed him down the hall.

END