Birthday FIC: Scones

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

For queen_mean_jean! Happy Birthday! Sorry it's so late but I just got back today! Hopefully, you read this at breakfast tomorrow! (Even if that will make it a belated b-day pressie!)

Title:  Scones
Author:  ranmaru
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Orlando doesn't like store-bought scones, Henry is 14, and Viggo likes the idea of getting some privacy.
Disclaimer:  Don't know, don't own, just playing.

Orli looked at the package of store bought scones and tried not to shudder. He met Viggo’s eyes and hoped like hell he didn’t look as disgusted as he felt but from the amused grin his lover was wearing, it wasn’t working. Henry was still rambling on about how great the scones were and how he and his father get them for breakfast every time they stayed at the ranch and Orli kept his own mouth shut because he didn’t want to hurt the kid’s feelings.

 

But Christ…scones in a box? Cold, crumbly scones that had been sitting on the shelf for god knew how long? It was blasphemy. He really had to start rethinking his relationship with these damned Americans.

 

Of course, that’s when Viggo brushed up against him and Orli got hard and forgot all about unnatural scones.

 

Until the next morning.

 

Henry had gone to see his friends for a while the night before and Viggo had taken advantage of his son’s absence to fuck Orlando until he passed out and ended up walking with a slight limp and dreading the moment he’d have to sit in one of the wooden table chairs. The Brit also couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face, but that was oh so very okay.

 

As he gingerly made his way to the kitchen he smelled sweet blueberries and hot butter and then he remembered Henry’s happy face as he’d placed the white, cardboard box of scones into the cart the previous day. He winced, whimpered then forged bravely ahead. Maybe he could say Viggo fucked the appetite right out of him or something.

 

No, that would not be appropriate to say to a fourteen year old. In front of his father. Even if it was his father who made Orli cry from coming so hard. The Brit had to stop and take a moment to reminisce but he realized he was only delaying the inevitable and sighed.

 

“Was I too rough on you?”

 

Orli sucked in a breath as the question was whispered in his ear and arms came around him from behind. He leaned back into Viggo and mmmm’d happily as the older man nuzzled the side of his face, Viggo’s stubble scraping over his own unshaved cheek. “No,” he murmured, closing his eyes and breathing in horse, hay, and Viggo. “But I’ll be topping tonight.”

 

Viggo snuffled a laugh into Orlando’s neck. “Maybe I can make Henry sleep out in the barn. He’s been asking about using the loft for privacy, like that damned Superman show he watches.”

 

“I’d make some agreeing noise but I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Orli turned around and wrapped his arms around Viggo’s waist.

 

“Let’s leave it at this: Henry gets the loft and privacy, I get laid in private with you.”

 

“I’m a mean broom pusher,” Orli told him after giving his lover a peck on the cheek. “But don’t ask me to play carpenter.”

 

“I’ll be Jesus if you’ll be Mr. Clean.”

 

“Isn’t he the bald guy?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Orli frowned. “I’m not shaving my head to satisfy your kinks, Vig.”

 

Viggo chuckled and threaded his fingers through Orli’s messy hair. “Don’t worry, I love your hair. Especially when you-“

 

“I can hear you guys!” Came Henry’s exasperated voice and Orli grinned.

 

“I think we’re traumatizing your son.”

 

Viggo steered Orli into the kitchen where the younger man cautiously lowered himself down onto a chair. “I’m sure he just wanted us to get back to discussing his ‘Fortress of Solitude.’”

 

It clicked in Orlando’s mind what Viggo had been talking about with the loft and Superman, though he still didn’t know what show he had referred to. “Oh! Right! Man, Henry, that’s going to be so cool!”

 

Henry was beaming. “You’re really going to let me…”

 

“I’m not winterizing it any more than it already is,” Viggo warned. “When it gets cold, your ass sleeps in the house.”

 

“Well, yeah,” Henry said, rolling his eyes. “I’m not stupid, Dad. It’s like the Arctic here in the winter.”

 

“And no girls.”

 

“Dad!” Henry blushed and turned his back to his father and Orli who shared a grin.

 

“I was fourteen once too, son.” Viggo sighed. “A really long time ago.”

 

“Stone Age,” Henry muttered and Orli snickered, earning a frown from Viggo which he ignored.

 

“Hey, filthy human. Make me some tea.”

 

Viggo raised his brows even as he stood. “Shall I squeeze a bee for your honey as well, my lord elf?”

 

“Tomorrow perhaps.” Orli stuck his tongue out at his lover who licked his lips.

 

“OB, you want butter on your scone before or after I nuke it?” Henry held up a scone in one hand and a knife in the other.

 

Orlando grit his teeth for a second then smiled. “Before, of course.” He could do this; he could eat the scone and pretend they were straight from his mother’s oven and not being radiated on a paper towel. He’d do it for Henry. He’d do it for Viggo. It would be a good experience, pretending he liked what he was eating. He could use it for when he had to act with someone he didn’t like. Or had to kiss someone other than Viggo. He’d sacrifice his tastebuds for his Craft. Now that was dedication.

 

“Voila!” Henry popped open the door of the microwave after it beeped, dropped the pastry onto a small plate and carried the butter-soaked scone over to Orlando who smiled and thanked him. He didn’t actually look at the scone though. He wasn’t mentally ready for that yet.

 

“Henry, thank your mother for this thing, would you?” Viggo said as he poured hot water into a mug from a small plastic pot that was plugged into a wall outlet.

 

“What is it?” asked Orli as he reached for the sugar bowl.

 

“It heats up water faster than boiling it on the stove.” Viggo filled another mug then brought both over to the table. He set one near Orli and pushed the box of tea bags closer to his lover. “Exene bought one for herself and thought I’d like one too.”

 

“Hm.” Orlando really didn’t see anything wrong with boiling hot water the old-fashioned way, just like he would have volunteered to make scones if Henry liked them so damned much. What the hell was it with Americans always using short-cuts?

 

Distracted by his thoughts, he added more sugar than usual to his tea, sipped it and hissed as he burned his tongue. “Thuck,” he cursed, the tip of his tongue held between his front teeth.

 

“It’s hot,” Viggo warned him belatedly.

 

“No thit,” Orlando grumbled. He took a glass of cold orange juice Henry gave to him and held the cool liquid in his mouth, flicking his tongue around, before swallowing.

 

“You have to eat your scone while its hot,” Henry said, sitting down at the table and passing his father a plate with two of the blueberry scones on it, both dripping with butter.

 

Orli nodded. “My Mum makes amazing scones,” he told the boy, blindly feeling for the scone and pinching off a corner. The scones were an irregular triangle shape, he remembered that much, and the corner was a little hard.

 

“Can you?” Henry looked interested and Orli grinned.

 

“Of course! We can make some tomorrow, if you want.”

 

“That’d be cool! We can make them while Dad’s getting the loft ready.”

 

“Hey! I’m not doing it alone,” Viggo protested, his lips glistening with butter. Orli licked his own lips and squirmed a little as his groin picked up on his mental interest.

 

“Can we put a bathroom out there?” Henry asked, neatly side-stepping the issue.

 

“No.”

 

“But Dad!”

 

“But nothing. Piss outside, it’s not like we have neighbors who will see you.”

 

“What about the press?”

 

Orli absently chewed on the bit of scone as he watched the interaction between father and son. He swallowed and reached for his tea.

 

“What about the press?” Viggo twisted the cap off of a jar of instant coffee.

 

“What if someone has a long range lens on their camera or something? They’ll get a picture of me peeing! My dick will be in all of those magazines!”

 

“Henry, when you’re eighteen you can say dick. For now, it’s your penis.”

 

“Willy,” Orli added, dipping his scone in his tea then making a face when half plopped into the mug and bobbed merrily.

 

“Willy?” Henry shoved a whole scone in his mouth and Viggo sighed rubbed a hand over his face.

 

“Call it your willy,” Orli told him, spooning out the scone and dropping the sopping bit on his plate.

 

Henry made a muffled sound of understanding, one hand over his mouth as he chewed. Orlando bravely took another bite of the remaining piece now cold scone and admitted that it wasn’t all that bad for a one time occurrence.

 

“Want me to nuke another one for you?” Henry offered after he’d swallowed.

 

“Ah, no.” Orli smiled apologetically. “Not really hungry this morning.” He hoped like hell his stomach didn’t contradict him any time soon.

 

“That’s okay. I mean, we have some leftover,” Henry told him. “If you get hungry later.”

 

“Thank you,” Orli said. He looked over at Viggo who was wiping his mouth on a paper towel. “How about some more tea?”

 

“When did I become your maid?” Viggo asked as he stood and refilled the pot.

 

“Sometime around ten last night,” muttered Orli, as he remembered moaning into his pillow for his lover to don’t stop oh god I can’t take any more please don’t stop.

 

“What happened last night?” Henry asked as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.

 

“Your father-“

 

“Took Orli out riding for too long,” Viggo finished with a glare in his lover’s direction.

 

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it now?” Henry snorted. “I’m fourteen, not stupid, remember?”

 

“Then why’d you ask?” Orli handed Viggo his mug and the older man dumped the contents in the sink.

 

“Just to see what you’d say.” Henry smirked. “I’m going out to visualize my new refuge.” He pushed back his chair and stood up. “I cooked, you clean.” He dashed outside before Viggo or Orli could protest.

 

“He calls it cooking?” Orli sighed and leaned his elbows on the table as Viggo set his mug down and sat down.

 

“Did you do that on purpose?” Viggo asked, gesturing to the mug.

 

“Actually, no.” Orli dipped in a tea bag. “Pure luck, that.”

 

“Snob.”

 

“They weren’t that bad,” Orli reluctantly admitted.

 

“You had two bites.”

 

“That was enough.”

 

“I can make you something else,” Viggo offered.

 

Orli hummed thoughtfully. “Eggs? I liked that mushroom omelet you made yesterday.”

 

“Coming right up.” Viggo picked up one of Orli’s hands and kissed his knuckles. “Are you really okay?” he asked softly, blue eyes searching.

 

“Yeah. It’s a good sore,” Orli said, breathing a little faster. “You’ll see.”

 

Viggo smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

 

 

THE END

Comments

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

^_^

[alilacia.livejournal.com]

*gasps* I'm with Orli. Shop-bought scones are a blasphemy. What are Viggo and Henry thinking? *shakes head*

This was just brilliant! *g*

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

[sveta-111.livejournal.com]

*He’d do it for Henry. He’d do it for Viggo. It would be a good experience, pretending he liked what he was eating. He could use it for when he had to act with someone he didn’t like. Or had to kiss someone other than Viggo. He’d sacrifice his tastebuds for his Craft. Now that was dedication*

I love this!
Thank you.

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

Glad you liked it!

[feenie.livejournal.com]

“When did I become your maid?” Viggo asked as he stood and refilled the pot.

“Sometime around ten last night,” muttered Orli, as he remembered moaning into his pillow for his lover to don’t stop oh god I can’t take any more please don’t stop.

rotflmao!! heee, I loved it!!

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

I have to ask, I know what the lmoa is, but what's the first part? ROTF...?? I know it's good though! ^_^

[feenie.livejournal.com]

heeee

Rolling On The Floor Laughing My Arse Off

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

Ah ha! So it's not just good, it's very good! Yay!

[queen-mean-jean.livejournal.com]

I adore this story!!! Thank you so much!! It is so wonderful to read someone who knows how to write them!!! And scones are one of my fav breakie foods!!!
*squish*

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

I wrote it while eating scones so... Glad you liked it sweetie!

[sarkka]

“Took Orli out riding for too long,” Viggo finished with a glare in his lover’s direction.

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it now?” Henry snorted. “I’m fourteen, not stupid, remember?”

*snorts* =D

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

*grin*

[sitaray.livejournal.com]

lol...this was too funny...and a lil disturbig to me. I actually hate scones!!! It all started when I worked at a Celtic Faire for some cash during college...and I was at the scone booth. And after selling those damn things all day in the roasting hot weather, and smothering them with Jam and what not...I couldn't stand them...lol! Great fic though :)

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

You hate scones?! I can understand why though... ^_^

[tularia.livejournal.com]

Family time! I always love family time! Great interaction, totally believable. Totally adored!

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I'm always making Henry 14...but I realized yesterday that he's 20 or something. Let's hope I remember that when I'm writing the "many years after Rings" stuff! Ha ha!