FIC: Camping Sucks (6/7)

[ranmaru.livejournal.com]

 I think I've decided on a VigOrli idea for NaNoWriMo. I have 9 chapter summaries so far... But I'll definitely be asking for some help next week... Especially since it takes place in London (and some in Caterbury). *puppy dog eyes*

On with the fic!

Title:  Camping Sucks (6/7)
Author:  Ranmaru
Rating: R (to be safe but not really)
Summary:  Spiders, peeing in the woods, and compromises.
Disclaimer: Don't know them, don't own anything they've been in, just playing.
Thanks to dienwand queen_mean_jeanfor the beta!

Camping Sucks

By Ranmaru

 

 

PART SIX

 

When Orli awoke the next morning, he opened his eyes and found himself staring at a spider the size of a quarter squatting mere inches from his face. He let out a shriek and struggled to get away but found himself hampered by the sleeping bag. Worse, as he’d struggled to free himself, the spider had been tossed about and now was no where to be seen. This was not a good thing. The fucking eight-legged creepy bastard could, at that moment, be somewhere down in the depths of the sleeping bag. Near his feet. Oh fuck, near his dick!

 

Viggo flipped open the tent flaps as Orli kicked himself free of the bag. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Spider! Bloody damned spider, Viggo!” Orlando grabbed for his jeans and pushed the laughing Dane out of his way. Viggo landed on his butt and just sat there shaking with mirth while Orli hopped around in the cool morning air, flapping his jeans to make sure there were no fucking spiders hiding in the legs before yanking them on.

 

“Stop laughing, you bastard!”

 

Viggo waved a hand and pulled his jean-clad legs up. “Give me a minute.”

 

“I hate camping!”

 

For some reason, this just made Viggo laugh even harder. Orli jammed on his sneakers and stalked off to piss. He wasn’t sure what poison ivy looked like so he chose a spot that was clear of any kind of bushes and leaves. Of course, this left him to water a tree and he wasn’t sure if his urine was acidic but the tree itself was a least one hundred feet high with a large green canopy, so the Brit figured a small amount of pee wouldn’t be that harmful. He was a bit worried about having to take a shit in the woods, but he wasn’t going to think about it until the time came. He just hoped it came after he’d convinced Viggo to go home. Maybe his bowels would wait until they got to Barney’s Diner.

 

When he returned to the campsite, he saw Viggo already taking down the tent, their bags sitting near the small fire the Dane must have lit earlier but Orlando hadn’t noticed. He felt a little guilty because he knew that Viggo had planned on staying another night and maybe hiking during the day but there he was, going against his own wishes to make Orli happy.

 

“I’m such a shit.”

 

Viggo paused in straightening out the nylon so it folded neatly. “Why’s that?”

 

“You want to stay, right?”

 

“Orli.” Viggo shook his head and continued on with his task.

 

“It’s…” Orli sighed and looked down. There was an ant making its way towards his shoe and he stomped on it. “Fucking bugs.”

 

“I was thinking about that,” Viggo said as he began to roll up the tent. “A compromise.”

 

Orli ground his heel on another ant. “Yeah?”

 

“What if we stayed in a cabin? We can still have a fire, go hiking and fishing, but we’ll clean the damned place of bugs and –“

 

Orli began to smile. “Yeah?”

 

Viggo abandoned the tent and approached the younger man. He hooked his fingers in Orli’s belt loops and tugged him closer. “Yeah.”

 

“For me?” Orli wrapped his arms around Viggo’s neck and brought their faces within centimeters of each other.

 

“And for my back,” Viggo admitted. “I’m a bit…sore, and not just my ass.”

 

“Poor baby,” Orli murmured before touching his lips to Viggo’s. They stood there kissing softly for a few moments before Viggo pulled back to say, “Don’t start something you can’t finish. We have a hike out of here and a long drive home.”

 

Orli groaned and pushed Viggo away. “Don’t remind me.” He rummaged in his pack until he found a t-shirt and pulled it over his head. “What can I do?” he asked, standing near Viggo and watching him expertly finish rolling up the tent.

 

“Stand there and look gorgeous?”

 

“Ha ha,” Orli responded dryly. “What about breakfast? I can boil water for coffee?”

 

“Sounds good. There’s instant oatmeal or we could go down and catch a couple more fish.”

 

“Nah, oatmeal works for me.”

 

Viggo just grinned.