vigorli

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title: Geek!Orlando, part 31
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 30
a/n 2: icon by the loving and loved

galor5

Orlando was a little bit nervous.

Their late dinner was winding down. Orlando was happy to just be spending time with Viggo. But… well… he hadn’t talked to Viggo yet. About… about topping. About all of that. And, well, a lot of times after dinner, they went to bed. And, a lot of times, after they went to bed, they… did stuff.

Orlando found himself staring at the wall in front of him, sipping his cream soda quietly.

“Do you… sell most of your work, Viggo? I’ve noticed you, uh, don’t have much of it. Yourself. Hanging in your house, I mean.” Orlando handed his plate to Viggo after one last bite of yummy baked salmon. Viggo had served them in the living room, insisting that Orlando could keep his foot elevated that way.

“Most of it, yes. I haven’t felt the urge to keep anything for a while now.” He paused, tilting his head. “I do have something now, though, that… that I’d like to hold on to.”

Orlando shivered a little as Viggo’s eyes held him in a warm blue hug. It wasn’t an I’m chilly shiver; he just felt sort of… shivery, all of a sudden. “Could I see it?” Orlando asked.

“You sure you want to get up?” Viggo said, nodding toward Orlando’s foot where it rested on a pillow atop the coffee table. Viggo had built him a cute little ankle nest there.

“Yes, for sure.” Orlando jumped at the chance to stretch. “I’ve been sitting around too much; my butt’s getting sore.” Viggo reached to pull Orlando up to a stand and passed him the crutches that were leaning nearby.

In the studio, Viggo turned on some lights while Orlando breathed in deeply. He loved the smells in here. Sometimes they reminded him of when Sam and he were kids and they used to do those fun oil paint-by-number kits. And sometimes it smelled a little like nail polish. Like that one night when he was fourteen, when he slept away while Sam painted his fingernails with clear polish. The next day Orlando spent an hour wondering what the heck was wrong with his nails that they were sort of peeling this weird shiny stuff, until he finally heard Sam stifling a snort from around the corner and the light bulb went on. Orlando wished he didn’t have that particular nail polish memory. But yeah, it was kinda funny, he guessed.

Orlando still owed her for that, though. Maybe he could think of a way to get her at Christmas this year.

Hey, neat - - Viggo had put up the magnet board Orlando had gotten for him! It already had all kinds of notes and drawings tacked up on it. There were some words torn from a magazine or something, and a bunch of little drawings and scribbles and things. Viggo was so creative.

Orlando tried not to think too much about the fact that he was standing next to the old dresser. The same old dresser where Viggo had… where they had… well, made love that one night… with the candle wax spilling, and the old mirror looking on. Because if he thought about it very much at all, his cock was going to wake up and get bossy, and then Orlando would start acting like a big dork. Again. And Orlando really needed to talk to Viggo about topping, and find out how Viggo felt about it all, like who should when and how often, before his cock got involved.

Geez! What the heck was he forgetting??? That’s it; next time he was on his laptop, he was going to google ‘tips to remember things you know you’ve forgotten but can’t remember.’

Viggo turned an easel to face Orlando, and there it was: the yellow painting. The one that had been on the easel the night they’d made love leaning on this old dresser. The one Orlando had spent time looking at the next morning, wrapped in Viggo’s robe, walking around in the quiet with a mug of Tang that Viggo had bought just for Orlando. He’d loved it then, already, and it wasn’t even done. But now…

Now, it was like… an explosion of pure energy. It was like Viggo had figured out what made light, and sunshine, and joy, and had found a way to put it in the painting. It was all crazy and chaotic and yet… peaceful, somehow. It made Orlando feel warm and tingly and blushy and a little light-headed.

It was like going on the merry-go-round at the state fair, before too many mini-donuts, when he would find the coolest horse that wasn’t already taken, and then lean his head way, way back during the ride, and just let the dizzy take him.

It was… daring, and trust, and… and… passion.

It was beautiful.

He loved how it made him feel. Actually, considering how little he understood about art, he loved that it made him feel.

He clutched at Viggo’s arm, and his wonder came out in a whisper. “Gosh, Viggo. It’s… it’s….”

Viggo was watching him kind of… carefully, almost. Orlando didn’t know what Viggo might be worried about; he couldn’t imagine not liking something Viggo had made. Still, even if Orlando didn’t really like something, he sure would never hurt Viggo’s feelings by saying something not nice.

“Do you… do you like it?” Viggo asked, whispering.

“Geez, it’s amazing!” Orlando said, smiling. “It feels all…strong. Powerful… sort of like a live electrical wire. It’s like… there’s so much going on, all crazy and exciting, and it makes me feel sort of... energized?… but it’s also… well, relaxing. And warm. Happy.”

He turned to Viggo. “Is that dumb? To feel all those different things from a painting?”

Orlando inwardly cringed as the words left him. Maybe that was somehow insulting to Viggo, to ask something like that.

“God, no. Not dumb.” Viggo’s breath whooshed out a little. “I love – … I love – “

Viggo blinked.

… that you feel that way about it.” Viggo swooped in to kiss Orlando, his hands cradling Orlando’s skull, his lips sweet and urgent.

Rocking a little on his crutches, Orlando went instantly breathless. He held fast to Viggo’s waist with one hand, both to steady himself and to pull Viggo closer. He didn’t know if he’d ever been so overwhelmed by a Viggo Kiss. Viggo’s hands held him tight, and his mouth was warm and intense, and his scent filled Orlando’s mind. It was like Orlando was Dorothy, and suddenly a gazillion of the Wicked Witch’s winged monkeys were descending into the forest, darkening everything and chasing and taking.

Only in a really good, good way.

Orlando moaned a little and opened his mouth, letting Viggo in, giving to Viggo, letting him take. God.

He opened his mouth wider.

And a little wider.

And… yaaawwwned.

“I’m sorry!” Orlando whispered, mortified, when he could close his jaw enough to speak without drooling.

“Bed,” Viggo ordered gently. He was smiling. And his eyes were crinkly.

Thank goodness.

A few minutes later, Orlando found himself tucked into Viggo’s toasty bed, naked and sleepy and happy, while Viggo lay next to him on top of the bedcovers and Viggo Fingers gently skated on Orlando’s forehead and down into his hair, smoothing over his scalp. It was wonderful.

Orlando’s cock drowsily pointed out that it was also, for some reason, really sexy that one of them was dressed and one of them was naked. But seeing as his cock was really sleepy, too, it agreeably conceded to file that away under Hot Thoughts to Consider Later.

Orlando sighed with relief when the door finally slid open and he could stretch his legs a few inches. The cabinet was too small for him to sit up straight in, of course, but at least with the door open, he could stick his feet out onto the floor now that the shop was open for the day.

Orlando heard the little bell over the door to the shop tinkle that the first customer of the day had arrived, and wondered what the order would be. He didn’t have to wonder long as a Viggo Sundae was passed down to him.

He wasn’t surprised; Viggo Sundaes were by far the most popular thing on the menu. Orlando sighed and unzipped.

The little ice cream Viggo in the dish smiled up at him.

Orlando started stroking.

It wasn’t long before he was close. The little Viggo in the dish smiled bigger, knowing what was - - er, coming. His little eyes got those tiny cute crinkles, and that was all Orlando needed. He awkwardly arranged the dish near his cock, took careful aim, and came all over the little Viggo.

The little Viggo cheerfully and wetly waved goodbye to Orlando, and Orlando passed the dish back up.

One Viggo Sundae topped.

He heard the cash register ring, and the bell over the door tinkled as more customers came in.

Orlando took a big swig from his water bottle. If a Viggo Sundae topper didn’t stay hydrated, he wouldn’t last long.

The dishes were passed down to him. Um, wow. This order was for three Viggo Sundaes. The three little ice cream Viggos in the dishes smiled up at him.

He started stroking.

It was a little longer before this order was finished, but eventually, Orlando passed back up the three freshly topped Viggo Sundaes.

He chugged some more from his water bottle.

Uh… more customers, already? That was pretty unusual considering the shop had just opened. Well, surely they wouldn’t want…

Viggo Sundaes.

Six. Viggo. Sundaes.

Holy moly.

This time, Orlando had to ask the little Viggos to help him out by posing suggestively and doing naughty calisthenics. By the time the sixth little Viggo stood waving its little ice creamy buns at Orlando, looking back at him wickedly through its little ice creamy legs, Orlando was able to - - just barely - - top him, and then tiredly pass up that last dish.

Orlando hoped fervently there would be a run on chocolate malts and sprinkle-dipped cones and ice cream sandwiches. He needed some recovery time. He chugged a lot more water.

After fifteen more Viggo Sundaes, Orlando was feeling desperate.

He knew he was supposed to stay in his cabinet below the counter for sanitary reasons, but he just had to see what all the noise in the shop was about. He stood up gingerly, trying not to jostle his exhausted cock.

Oh god.

The line of customers wound its way out of the shop and down the street, farther than Orlando could see.

And there were signs all over the shop that read:

SPECIAL TODAY!
VIGGO SUNDAES: THREE FOR ONE!
WANT EXTRA TOPPING? JUST ASK!

Noooooooooooooooo!

---

“Hey, wake up,” Viggo said gently.

Orlando had never been so happy to open his eyes.

“Bad dream?” Viggo asked. It looked like he had been sleeping, too. Orlando nodded.

“Uh… yeah,” Orlando managed. With a quick and hopefully unnoticed touch of his hand, he confirmed that he hadn’t actually been topping things in his sleep, thank goodness. Still, he felt sticky and icky and ice creamy. “I think… I think I’m going to take a shower.” He smiled weakly at Viggo and hobbled to the bathroom, leaving his glasses and his crutches behind.

A minute later, the warm water was streaming down over him. He stood there, eyes closed, and tried to relax.

He really needed to talk to Viggo. He really didn’t want to hurt Viggo’s feelings, but he knew he shouldn’t put this off any longer.

There was a tap on the door, and then Viggo was peeking around the shower curtain. “You okay?” he asked. Orlando squinted at him, and sighed.

“I think - - can we - -… we need to talk,” Orlando said unhappily.

It was really hard to know for sure without his glasses on, but Orlando thought Viggo’s face looked sort of strange.

ETA: continued here