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vigorliPairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: NC-17
Candle
Viggo grazed his knuckles against the door, before taking a somewhat shaky breath. And knocking.
It wasn’t loud enough and Viggo expected no answer. But it was Orlando who had asked him to come over later, wasn’t it?
And maybe Viggo wasn’t knocking on his door out of desire, but out of a misplaced possessiveness, a need to check on him - Viggo didn’t know which meant what and which was worse. He knocked nevertheless, and then waited with his forehead leaning against the cool wooden door. When he felt movement on the other side, heard keys twisting and locks being unlocked, he drew back slightly, not knowing what expression to set his face in.
Orlando was half naked when he appeared. Beads of water shone on the coveted skin, exposed as it was down to the waist, around which a towel was wrapped. Viggo was ready to apologize for something, when Orlando looked at him. As if he knew. Expected. Waited. Maybe getting ready.
He stepped aside, smiling as Viggo passed him and walked into the living room.
There were no words spoken.
They found themselves in the bedroom, the walls dancing, throbbing under the candlelight. Viggo remained silent while Orlando undressed him without hurry, their glances never leaving each other‘s. When they were both naked, Orlando kissed the shadows and flames that quivered on Viggo’s body. And Viggo took hold of wet hair and pulled in, pulled up, pulled down. Orlando’s mouth obliged.
And now they were on the bed, kicking the bunched sheets with their feet, digging into the mattress with elbows and knees and chins and hands. Viggo arched his chest underneath Orlando’s tongue, feeding him his nipple, his flesh. He moaned. He begged.
His fingers dug into Orlando’s buttocks and he pushed up, bringing the two cocks together, while he opened his mouth hungrily into Orlando’s. When Orlando withdrew teasingly, Viggo’s eager mouth darted up to maintain contact, neck flexing, chasing the younger man’s smirking lips.
A hardly audible whimper escaped him, as Orlando smiled and pressed him back against the pillows with firm gentleness. Tiny flames licked at Orlando’s orbs as he reached out, away, on the right, taking hold of one thick candle from the nightstand.
Viggo’s eyes widened when Orlando brought the candle to hover over his chest. There was something in his grin that made the man shiver in sickening anticipation. His breath was stilled in his throat.
Orlando’s eyes commanded Viggo’s gaze, kept it firmly. Viggo stared raptly into their darkness and the flames reflecting onto it. Something voracious in his eyes, something sinister. And then there was heat. Liquid heat, burning him. He groaned, not so much in pain as in surprise. In pleasure, as the hot burning bites melted down his chest to his belly.
He looked down. Orlando had tilted the candle over his chest, kept it there to drip its wax, bit by bit, drop by agonizing fiery drop, on Viggo’s skin. They both watched enraptured as the heat trickled and burned him, then eased off to a kind of solid coolness. Viggo became exquisitely hard, and bucked underneath Orlando who had pinned him there, between his thighs.
“Oh, Jesus, baby…” he said, shivering under the smoldering drops that hit his skin. Orlando smiled smugly at him, dipped his fingers into the pool of wax that had gathered around the candle’s flame and run them along Viggo’s cheek. And then puff, he blew the flame out. Viggo felt the smoldering smell tickle his nostrils.
With a low growl, he grabbed Orlando, turned him over and climbed on top of him. He kissed him hard, devouring him, as smudges of wax rubbed off on Orlando’s chest. Needy sounds were made into Viggo’s mouth, and he lost it. Hands pushing thighs apart, grabbing hips, clutching, lifting.
Orlando arched into Viggo with a moan, his throat curving back, becoming bruised by teeth and ragged animal breaths.
Pensive
When he woke up, rather unwillingly, from the sweetest sleep he had in weeks, Viggo wasn’t there. A massive feeling of disappointment grounded him at once into reality. He slipped into a pair of sweatpants and a tee, and went out.
Viggo was there, sitting on the couch, staring at something in his hand. The light that poured in from the windows was milky and weak.
“What time is it?” Orlando asked with his voice coarse as he approached Viggo from behind, not wanting to enunciate the demented relief he was experiencing at the moment. “Must be early, why don’t we go back to bed?”
He bent over the back of the couch, digging his chin on Viggo’s shoulder. He realized that what Viggo was holding was his cell.
“Everything all right?”
Viggo murmured something indistinct. Orlando jumped over the back of the couch and landed next to Viggo. He tried to cuddle as close to him as he could, because it was rather cold and his teeth would start clattering soon. He dug one bare foot between Viggo’s thighs, yet the man seemed so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even notice.
“What’s wrong? Why are you so…pensive?” he ventured.
Viggo sighed. He raised the mobile phone and showed it to a perplexed Orlando.
“I’m thinking, when I turn this on, it’s back to reality again for me. It will all flood back in.”
“Yeah…” Orlando agreed. He tilted his head against Viggo’s shoulder, touching the man’s neck with his cold nose. “It’s funny how our realities are dependent on such little evil things.”
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” Viggo made an unsuccessful effort to laugh his despair off. Orlando shrugged.
“It’s life. Why don’t we just ignore reality for a little bit more and go back to bed? Come on, I’ll make you forget,” he promised, using his fingers to turn Viggo’s face to him. He flicked his tongue against the man’s chapped lips, forcing them open gently.
Viggo surrendered, dropping his head back and inviting Orlando’s tongue to plunge as deep inside his mouth as possible. It was as if the ferocity of this could fend off his ugly thoughts of responsibility and loyalty and honesty. No good; pictures of reality, of his other life, came rushing back in his head, and he pushed Orlando gently backwards.
“Don’t be mad at me,” he said.
Orlando licked his lips slowly, and looked seriously at Viggo.
“You know what? I believe we both need some vacations. We need to get as far away from this reality as possible.”
Viggo stared at him, trying to mask his disbelief, already counting all the reasons why this was so wrong or how messed-up of a situation it could get. Orlando sensed his uncertainty, and cringed back.
“I mean…like friends, you know? We don’t have to…you don’t have to…oh, forget it,” he finally gave up with a sigh, untangling himself from Viggo.
“No, I understand,” Viggo nodded. He didn’t understand a thing. “It’s a good idea.”
“Yeah. OK.” Orlando wrapped his arms around his chest. He looked at him trying to convince him that everything was OK. He didn’t mind.
Except he did. But…anyway…
Viggo rose. “I got to go.”
The younger man smiled, as he too rose to see Viggo out. “I know.” A slight reprimand in his voice. Oh, but that’s life, he thought.
Sell
“Oh.” Viggo stumbled in front of the door. “I forgot.”
Under Orlando’s gawp, he drew his checkbook out of an inner pocket.
“What’s this?” Orlando blinked in disbelief. “No way!” he stammered when Viggo also took his pen out, ready to write the check for last night’s rendezvous.
“Well - ” Viggo paused uncertainly. He noticed the anger coloring Orlando’s eyes. “But I owe you…for last night…”
“You know what? This is ridiculous,” the young man huffed. “Bloody amazing. You…” he started, then stopped, searching for better words to express his indignation.
“I choose,” he continued in a more level manner, “to whom I sell my body, and to whom I give it freely. If you can’t understand this…if you couldn’t understand last night…”
He made a violent gesture as if to say he was giving up.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Orlando. Last night was wonderful…”
“Yet, you chose to ruin it by…doing something inconsiderate like this,” he gestured towards the checkbook that was still in Viggo’s hands. “You’re amazing, you know that? You always try to be so good, and so right, and then you simply…you fuck up, man. You just fuck it all up. Do you even know what you want?”
Viggo opened his mouth to say something in his defense, he realized that his honest answer would be “no” so he remained silent.
“I’m sorry.” He looked at the little book in his hands. “I still want to pay you,” he added hastily, and signed the paper. Tearing it off, he shoved it into Orlando’s hand. The younger man stared at it incredulously, then fixed a mocking gaze at Viggo.
“Last night wasn’t for sale, old man. Last night was a fucking gift. Now fuck off and get out. You fucking prick.”
Viggo opened the door.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again over his shoulder. Orlando shut the door close with a big raging bang.
Still no beta.
You can find the first ficlets here
Rating: NC-17
Candle
Viggo grazed his knuckles against the door, before taking a somewhat shaky breath. And knocking.
It wasn’t loud enough and Viggo expected no answer. But it was Orlando who had asked him to come over later, wasn’t it?
And maybe Viggo wasn’t knocking on his door out of desire, but out of a misplaced possessiveness, a need to check on him - Viggo didn’t know which meant what and which was worse. He knocked nevertheless, and then waited with his forehead leaning against the cool wooden door. When he felt movement on the other side, heard keys twisting and locks being unlocked, he drew back slightly, not knowing what expression to set his face in.
Orlando was half naked when he appeared. Beads of water shone on the coveted skin, exposed as it was down to the waist, around which a towel was wrapped. Viggo was ready to apologize for something, when Orlando looked at him. As if he knew. Expected. Waited. Maybe getting ready.
He stepped aside, smiling as Viggo passed him and walked into the living room.
There were no words spoken.
They found themselves in the bedroom, the walls dancing, throbbing under the candlelight. Viggo remained silent while Orlando undressed him without hurry, their glances never leaving each other‘s. When they were both naked, Orlando kissed the shadows and flames that quivered on Viggo’s body. And Viggo took hold of wet hair and pulled in, pulled up, pulled down. Orlando’s mouth obliged.
And now they were on the bed, kicking the bunched sheets with their feet, digging into the mattress with elbows and knees and chins and hands. Viggo arched his chest underneath Orlando’s tongue, feeding him his nipple, his flesh. He moaned. He begged.
His fingers dug into Orlando’s buttocks and he pushed up, bringing the two cocks together, while he opened his mouth hungrily into Orlando’s. When Orlando withdrew teasingly, Viggo’s eager mouth darted up to maintain contact, neck flexing, chasing the younger man’s smirking lips.
A hardly audible whimper escaped him, as Orlando smiled and pressed him back against the pillows with firm gentleness. Tiny flames licked at Orlando’s orbs as he reached out, away, on the right, taking hold of one thick candle from the nightstand.
Viggo’s eyes widened when Orlando brought the candle to hover over his chest. There was something in his grin that made the man shiver in sickening anticipation. His breath was stilled in his throat.
Orlando’s eyes commanded Viggo’s gaze, kept it firmly. Viggo stared raptly into their darkness and the flames reflecting onto it. Something voracious in his eyes, something sinister. And then there was heat. Liquid heat, burning him. He groaned, not so much in pain as in surprise. In pleasure, as the hot burning bites melted down his chest to his belly.
He looked down. Orlando had tilted the candle over his chest, kept it there to drip its wax, bit by bit, drop by agonizing fiery drop, on Viggo’s skin. They both watched enraptured as the heat trickled and burned him, then eased off to a kind of solid coolness. Viggo became exquisitely hard, and bucked underneath Orlando who had pinned him there, between his thighs.
“Oh, Jesus, baby…” he said, shivering under the smoldering drops that hit his skin. Orlando smiled smugly at him, dipped his fingers into the pool of wax that had gathered around the candle’s flame and run them along Viggo’s cheek. And then puff, he blew the flame out. Viggo felt the smoldering smell tickle his nostrils.
With a low growl, he grabbed Orlando, turned him over and climbed on top of him. He kissed him hard, devouring him, as smudges of wax rubbed off on Orlando’s chest. Needy sounds were made into Viggo’s mouth, and he lost it. Hands pushing thighs apart, grabbing hips, clutching, lifting.
Orlando arched into Viggo with a moan, his throat curving back, becoming bruised by teeth and ragged animal breaths.
Pensive
When he woke up, rather unwillingly, from the sweetest sleep he had in weeks, Viggo wasn’t there. A massive feeling of disappointment grounded him at once into reality. He slipped into a pair of sweatpants and a tee, and went out.
Viggo was there, sitting on the couch, staring at something in his hand. The light that poured in from the windows was milky and weak.
“What time is it?” Orlando asked with his voice coarse as he approached Viggo from behind, not wanting to enunciate the demented relief he was experiencing at the moment. “Must be early, why don’t we go back to bed?”
He bent over the back of the couch, digging his chin on Viggo’s shoulder. He realized that what Viggo was holding was his cell.
“Everything all right?”
Viggo murmured something indistinct. Orlando jumped over the back of the couch and landed next to Viggo. He tried to cuddle as close to him as he could, because it was rather cold and his teeth would start clattering soon. He dug one bare foot between Viggo’s thighs, yet the man seemed so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even notice.
“What’s wrong? Why are you so…pensive?” he ventured.
Viggo sighed. He raised the mobile phone and showed it to a perplexed Orlando.
“I’m thinking, when I turn this on, it’s back to reality again for me. It will all flood back in.”
“Yeah…” Orlando agreed. He tilted his head against Viggo’s shoulder, touching the man’s neck with his cold nose. “It’s funny how our realities are dependent on such little evil things.”
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” Viggo made an unsuccessful effort to laugh his despair off. Orlando shrugged.
“It’s life. Why don’t we just ignore reality for a little bit more and go back to bed? Come on, I’ll make you forget,” he promised, using his fingers to turn Viggo’s face to him. He flicked his tongue against the man’s chapped lips, forcing them open gently.
Viggo surrendered, dropping his head back and inviting Orlando’s tongue to plunge as deep inside his mouth as possible. It was as if the ferocity of this could fend off his ugly thoughts of responsibility and loyalty and honesty. No good; pictures of reality, of his other life, came rushing back in his head, and he pushed Orlando gently backwards.
“Don’t be mad at me,” he said.
Orlando licked his lips slowly, and looked seriously at Viggo.
“You know what? I believe we both need some vacations. We need to get as far away from this reality as possible.”
Viggo stared at him, trying to mask his disbelief, already counting all the reasons why this was so wrong or how messed-up of a situation it could get. Orlando sensed his uncertainty, and cringed back.
“I mean…like friends, you know? We don’t have to…you don’t have to…oh, forget it,” he finally gave up with a sigh, untangling himself from Viggo.
“No, I understand,” Viggo nodded. He didn’t understand a thing. “It’s a good idea.”
“Yeah. OK.” Orlando wrapped his arms around his chest. He looked at him trying to convince him that everything was OK. He didn’t mind.
Except he did. But…anyway…
Viggo rose. “I got to go.”
The younger man smiled, as he too rose to see Viggo out. “I know.” A slight reprimand in his voice. Oh, but that’s life, he thought.
Sell
“Oh.” Viggo stumbled in front of the door. “I forgot.”
Under Orlando’s gawp, he drew his checkbook out of an inner pocket.
“What’s this?” Orlando blinked in disbelief. “No way!” he stammered when Viggo also took his pen out, ready to write the check for last night’s rendezvous.
“Well - ” Viggo paused uncertainly. He noticed the anger coloring Orlando’s eyes. “But I owe you…for last night…”
“You know what? This is ridiculous,” the young man huffed. “Bloody amazing. You…” he started, then stopped, searching for better words to express his indignation.
“I choose,” he continued in a more level manner, “to whom I sell my body, and to whom I give it freely. If you can’t understand this…if you couldn’t understand last night…”
He made a violent gesture as if to say he was giving up.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Orlando. Last night was wonderful…”
“Yet, you chose to ruin it by…doing something inconsiderate like this,” he gestured towards the checkbook that was still in Viggo’s hands. “You’re amazing, you know that? You always try to be so good, and so right, and then you simply…you fuck up, man. You just fuck it all up. Do you even know what you want?”
Viggo opened his mouth to say something in his defense, he realized that his honest answer would be “no” so he remained silent.
“I’m sorry.” He looked at the little book in his hands. “I still want to pay you,” he added hastily, and signed the paper. Tearing it off, he shoved it into Orlando’s hand. The younger man stared at it incredulously, then fixed a mocking gaze at Viggo.
“Last night wasn’t for sale, old man. Last night was a fucking gift. Now fuck off and get out. You fucking prick.”
Viggo opened the door.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again over his shoulder. Orlando shut the door close with a big raging bang.
Still no beta.
You can find the first ficlets here
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Date: 2008-10-02 11:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-02 12:53 pm (UTC)