vigorli

Almost done with the old stuff. Still more WIPs to finish but I think some of them are going to remain unfinished for another few years. Then it's on to the new stuff! And maybe some LoTR scenes?

Title: Eye of the Beholder
Author:

ranmaru
Rating: R
Summary: Orlando reads Recent Forgeries but his reaction is less than Viggo expected. (Going by the date, the book was released before LoTR started filming, right? If not, excuse the screwed up timeline!)
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, just playing.

Viggo wasn’t sitting on pins and needles as Orlando flipped through the book he’d given the Brit. And later, he definitely wasn’t watching his lover’s face for every miniscule nuance of expression as Orli listened to the CD that accompanied the book. No, he was simply so enamoured with his sexy British lover that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of him. Yes, that was it.

Since that was the case and he really didn’t care all that much what Orli’s opinion of Recent Forgeries was, Viggo couldn’t logically explain why, when Orlando said he liked Viggo’s work, the older man was feeling hurt because his lover couldn’t look him in the eyes as he spoke.

“You’re a bad liar, elf.”

Orli’s blond-wigged head shot up. “I-I don’t know-“

“If you can’t tell me the truth, don’t tell me anything at all.” Viggo stared into lost brown eyes for a moment before calmly getting up and walking away.

Viggo let his shoulders slump little by little as the façade of Aragorn was closeted for another night. He’d noticed when he’d stepped into the make-up trailer, that Orli’s blond wig was already draped over its Styrofoam dummy head, brushed and gleaming. It had been surprisingly easy to forget what had happened before the shoot. Aragorn didn’t care about art books or poetry CD’s, he was too busy trying to save Middle Earth, but now Viggo was left to his own thoughts and he wasn’t sure what to feel.

It was warm outside, the night lit by a bright new moon. The Dane walked slowly back to the trailer he was sharing with Orlando. They were alone now that Bean had flown home. Peter had told them soon they would be able to return back to house-living but Viggo hadn’t minded the close-quarters that much.

The only light came from the ‘bedroom’ and Viggo found himself stopping to watch the curtain-drawn window for a glimpse of Orli’s shadow. After a moment he looked away and moved to the door.

“I’m back,” he called softly, closing and locking the door behind him. He could see Orli’s legs as they moved, swinging to the edge of the bed as the young man sat up.

“Long day,” Orlando said, hands gripping the edge of the mattress on either side of him. He was clearly upset about something.

Viggo made a noise of agreement as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. “I need a shower.”

“I’ve already taken one.”

“Leave any hot water for me?” Viggo teased.

Orli’s smile looked forced and Viggo sighed. Three steps carried him to the bedside and he bent down, lifting Orli’s chin. “I’m not angry with you,” he whispered, gently pressing his lips to Orlando’s. The younger man wound his arms around his neck and Viggo knelt down between the Brit’s legs to deepen the kiss.

“I’m sorry Vig,” Orli said as they parted, resting his forehead on the older man’s shoulder.

“We’ll talk after my shower. Okay?” Viggo kissed Orli’s neck. He stood up and brushed his hands over the top of the Brit’s bristled head and Orlando batted him away with a glare.

Viggo made quick work of his shower, washing the important parts extra carefully and skimming over the rest. He exited the tiny bathroom naked except for the towel he was busy drying his hair with. Orli was still on the bed, though he’d lain on his side, head propped up on his hand.

“You look good wet,” he said, brown eyes drawn to the artist’s middle. Viggo could feel a stirring in his blood.

“We should talk first.” He wrapped the towel around his waist watching with amusement as the younger man sighed and dropped to his back to stare up at the ceiling.

“Fine.”

The Dane frowned at his lover. “You’re obviously bothered by this.”

“About being turned down for sex? Of course I am.”

“Stop it,” Viggo muttered crossly. “You know what I mean.” He sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on the far side of Orlando, leaning over to look down at the younger man. Orli turned his head away.

“What is talking about this going to do but make you angry with me?”

Viggo shook his head. “I won’t be angry.”

“Hurt then. I heard it in your voice earlier. I’m not deaf.”

“Okay, I’ll admit I was hurt.”

“See?”

“Most people don’t like to be lied to Orlando, I’m no exception.”

Orli looked up at him, eyes glistening but Viggo knew there wouldn’t be any tears shed. “I just…I don’t want this to…ruin things.” The Brit levered up and scooted back until he was sitting cross-legged. He trailed his fingers down Viggo’s cheek then let his hand fall to his lap. “I like being with you.”

“One has nothing to do with the other. You don’t have to like my paintings or poetry, just understand that it’s a part of me that I’ll always want to share with you.”

Orli grinned. “There were a few poems I liked. And some of the photographs. Like the butterfly in the pond? I just don’t get...the dolls? What the hell? And the pigs?” Orli shuddered. “And most of the artwork just… I like…pictures I can understand, like a seascape or a portrait of some famous Victorian or a saint or whatever. Looking at your paintings…” He frowned. “Hurts. Not all of them but a lot of them and I just want to look away and find something that doesn’t make me want to hit something.”

Viggo smiled. “I’ve been known to bottle up my anger and sadness and use it as the paint on the canvas,” he admitted.

“It shows. Um, about the CD?”

Viggo bit his lip. Orli was looking like a guilty child about to confess to blaming the dog for his crime in order to help lighten the punishment he knew was coming. “What about it?”

“You know I get turned on by your voice right? I mean, I’m man enough to say I’ve been close to spontaneous orgasm when you say my name but…”

“But?”

“Stick to singing in Elvish.”

Viggo began to laugh as he tackled the younger man. Orli tried turning the tables and they wound up in a furious tickling match that ended with them both on their backs, breathing hard and smiling. At some point Viggo had lost his towel and Orli was shirtless.

“Ready to admit defeat?” Viggo gasped, nudging his lover in the side with his elbow.

“Never.” Orli reached over and patted Viggo’s semi-erect cock. “I’d be willing to make it worth your while if you did though.”

“You said you liked my singing.” The older man closed his eyes to enjoy the touch.

“I do, but, I don’t know. I didn’t see it as singing on the CD, just like, making the words longer and they really didn’t seem to fit the music. I’m sorry, maybe I’m tone deaf or something.” Orli turned on his side and began to stroke Viggo in apology. Or something. Viggo didn’t care as long as he didn’t stop.

“Okay, we’re done talking.” He mimicked Orli and lay on his side. “Take these off,” he said, snapping the elastic waist of Orli’s sweatpants.

“Demanding human, aren’t you?” Orli grumbled as he wiggled out of his pants. Viggo enjoyed the show but quickly moved to cover Orli’s naked body with his own.

“Yes. Now I’m demanding make-up sex.”

“We weren’t technically arguing, so how is it make-up sex?” Orli settled his hands on Viggo’s bum and began rubbing in small circles.

“You’re making up for your lack of…” Viggo thought for a moment. “Lack of artistic understanding.”

“Hmm.” Orli frowned. “I see. This may be something that will take a while,” he warned, fingers dancing close to Viggo’s cleft. “I have a lot of making up to do.”

Viggo brushed a kiss over the younger man’s soft lips. “I have time.”

“Think you’ll ever write a poem about me?”

“I can’t paint something?”

The smack to Viggo’s innocent behind was loud in the small trailer.

END