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viggorli_xmasContinued from part 1.
Orlando woke up alone, which wasn’t a surprise, but it was dark outside which was. He rolled over to grab his mobile from the bedside table, only to remember that he wasn’t at his apartment in LA, but at Ian McKellen’s house in England, and he had no idea when was the last time he’d even seen his phone, never mind used it.
Shit.
He had a faint headache but nothing too bad, though his body felt like he’d been part of the Hobbit wrestling match from earlier. He wondered if he missed supper, if he missed Bean and Astin’s arrivals. He sat up with a groan and considered borrowing back under the covers and just calling it a day, but he could still smell Viggo and Jesus there was a lot they needed to talk about.
“Confusing man,” Orlando muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and hissing at the cold wood floor. When the hell had he taken off his socks? He didn’t remember Viggo doing it.
He quickly used the bathroom and changed into a clean pair of jeans and a dark green button up that his sister said went well with his coloring. Whatever that meant. He’d told her that since he had brown hair the green shirt made him look like an upside down tree. She hadn’t been amused.
He could hear voices as he made his way down the staircase, Beans’ voice being the loudest. When the group came into view, Orlando could see Bean acting out whatever story he was telling, using Elijah as a prop. He could see Viggo at the far side of the room, and hoped to get over there to sit beside him on the ornate love seat without being seen in the dim, fire lit room, but he should have known better.
Bean swept him up into a hug so tight he feared for his ribs, and planted a smacking kiss on his cheek. “There’s our Southern Softie,” he said with a grin.
“Get off, you Northern Bastard,” Orlando playfully growled, hugging him back before pushing him away. He could see Viggo hiding a smile as he sipped camomile tea from a mug. “They let all sorts in here.”
“Must do if you’re here.” Bean added insult to injury by giving Orlando a slap on the bum as he tried maneuvering around him. “Admit it, you missed me.”
“Not a bit.” Orlando nonchalantly sat beside Viggo, and ignored the knowing look Bean gave him.
“Where’s our lost Hobbit?” Viggo shifted until his knee was pressed to Orlando’s.
“Flight was delayed.” Elijah held up his mobile and wiggled it. “He won’t be here until tomorrow morning.”
“I pity the airline,” Dom said with a snicker. “We’ll be hearing about it from the time he lands until he’s back in America.”
“Oh god,” Elijah groaned. “We planned a trip to see Windsor Castle and then we’re booked on the same flight home.”
On the floor, leaning on Dom’s knee, Billy began to laugh. “Better find ear muffs!”
“He’ll just need a good distraction,” Ian pointed out. “Each time he brings it up-”
“Snog him,” Dom finished with a nudge of his elbow to Elijah’s side. Billy snorted and smacked his calf.
The warmth of the fire was competing with the warmth of the knee pressed to his, and Orlando was entirely too conscious of the man beside him. Listening to the familiar voices, the laughter, it was like being transported back in time, and Orlando had to remind himself that he was no longer that naive kid who had worshipped Viggo without a care. He watched Dom reach down to card his fingers through Billy’s short hair and remembered seeing pictures of himself or the others in various magazines while filming that asked if there was something more than friendship between the members of the Fellowship. Remembered the questions from friends and family, from his management and publicist.
Lulled by the fire, his friends, the shadow-filled room, Orlando let himself remember the exact moment when he’d been so thankful that nothing had happened with Viggo in New Zealand because it had finally dawned on him how it would have effected his career. At the same time, he’d hated himself for it, hated Hollywood and ignorant people who prized money over love, because he had loved Viggo then, with a purity that he’d never feel again, jaded as he’d become with a trail of failed relationships and movie credits behind him.
“What are you thinking?”
Orlando leaned just a little closer to Viggo and considered the man’s softly spoken question. This wasn’t the place to have the talk that was long overdue, but he could say one thing that Viggo deserved to hear.
“I missed you.”
He heard Viggo’s swift intake of breath, as if he was surprised by the admission, and Orlando’s heart was hurt by that. Viggo had to have known, especially after their naps earlier, wrapped up in each other’s arms and so close Orlando could feel and hear Viggo’s heartbeat. He sighed, and turned to whisper in Viggo’s ear, “Later, when we’re alone, I want to show you how much I missed you.”
“After we talk.”
“We can talk in the morning.”
Viggo chuckled and angled his head to brush a kiss over Orlando’s lips, leaving them tingling.
“Something to share with the class?”
Orlando saw the sparkle in Viggo’s eyes, or perhaps that was just the firelight reflected, before he turned to frown at the room, specifically at Bean who was slouched in the chair across from them, tumbler of whisky in hand. His smirk said it all.
“Oh! Who won the pot?” Billy tugged on the leg of Ian’s trousers.
“Pot?” Orlando shared a look with Viggo. “Did you all bet on us getting together this weekend?”
Dom waved a hand. “This weekend? No, more like a million years ago, on a small island in the Pacific.”
“It was an informal thing until that Christmas party, remember?” Bean was watching Viggo. “Our Orlando got pissed and you let him drag you out to dance before he passed out in your lap?”
“Oh god,” Orlando moaned, remembering more about the hangover he’d had the next day, but having the vague memory of nearly smashing Viggo in the nose with a flailing arm.
“I let him sleep with his head on my lap,” Viggo corrected. “You make it sound as though-”
“You didn’t move for two hours while the elf slept.”
“Really?” Orlando grinned. “You never said.”
“He actually growled at someone who came over to take a picture,” Billy added.
“You can imagine how disappointed we were when nothing came of it other than a bit of embarrassment.” Ian gave them a stern look. “I’ve had the bets locked in my safe.” He looked around the room. “I’ll be calling Liv after lunch tomorrow.”
As the others began to talk about who had bet what, Orlando took one of Viggo’s hands, linking their fingers. “I think we’ve done our part as the entertainment.”
“What time will breakfast be served?” Viggo asked, raising his voice to get Ian’s attention.
“Eight o’clock.” Ian made a shooing motion. “Go, so we may speculate on what you’re doing up there.”
“Down to the last squishy detail,” Dom added, and was caught in a headlock by Elijah.
Orlando stood with Viggo, still holding his hand. “We’re going to talk.”
“Lemme hear your body talk, your body talk,” Bean sang quietly, and even Orlando had to laugh at that.
“Daft man.”
“Goodnight,” Viggo offered in that calm voice he liked to use just before all hell broke out, and so Orlando wasn’t the least bit surprised when, after Viggo set his mug on the end table beside Ian, he took off at a run for the stairs, their friends’ laughter following them upstairs.
As soon as the door was closed, Orlando was pressed against it, Viggo kissing him like it was the last time they’d have the chance, but it wasn’t, it would never be the last time if he had anything to say about it. Orlando wrapped his arms around Viggo and lost himself in the taste and feel of Viggo’s mouth.
They had to talk, there was so much they had to say, but there was no way Orlando was going to stop until he had to, not now that he had Viggo right where he wanted him.
*
“If you had said something, I would have said yes,” Viggo said some time later when they were laying in bed, Orlando’s body still buzzing from the touch of Viggo’s hands all over him, sated from an intense orgasm that was, as Viggo had whispered, the first of many. “But I couldn’t make that decision for you.” Viggo was on his back, Orlando beside him on his stomach, arms around a pillow, studying his lover’s profile.
“I was so mad for you.” Orlando smiled at the flush that warmed his face as he thought back to all of the ways he’d tried to impress Viggo. “The fishing trip.”
Viggo’s bark of laughter said it all.
“If you’d rejected me,” Orlando admitted, “I’d have been beyond devastated. I couldn’t take that chance.”
“And I knew what being with me would have done to your career.”
“Not yours?”
Viggo shrugged. “I enjoy acting, but I could live without it.”
Orlando didn’t understand that, not just because he was addicted to acting, but because Viggo was a born actor, was so believable in any role that Orlando couldn’t understand why he didn’t have a room filled with awards. Unwanted awards, maybe, but acknowledgement at least.
“You didn’t need the stigma when your star was rising so damned fast,” Viggo continued, moving to his side so that they were facing each other. “There will still be a stigma, but I don’t honestly give a shit.”
“I think the only ones who will care are our management teams and my Gran.”
“Your Gran?” Viggo shifted closer.
“She wants great-grandchildren and my sister told her not to hold her breath, so it’s on me apparently.”
“We’ll introduce her to Henry. All Grans love him.”
Orlando grinned. “He’s doing well?”
“More than. And our management teams can kiss my ass, though I think my publicist will be happy to finally have something to do. I’ve been told I am a boring client and she feels guilty taking my money each month.”
A yawn stopped Orlando’s response. “Sorry, I can’t believe I’m still tired after sleeping all afternoon.”
“Sleep, we have all of tomorrow.”
“And then? I’ll be in Canterbury for Christmas.”
“I’ll be in Los Angeles.”
Orlando sighed. “When’s your flight out?”
“Thursday.”
That woke him up a bit. “You’re here for week?”
“I was...optimistic.”
Orlando had to kiss him for that.
Optimistic, indeed.
*
“Coffee, coffee, coffee,” Orlando chanted, homing in on the silver carafe on the sideboard in the dining room. He wasn’t even aware of anyone else in the room until Ian said, “Good morning, Orlando.”
“Ian, after I wake up, I might have to snog you stupid.” Orlando poured a cup of dark nectar and added two sugars. He glanced over his shoulder and winked. “Good morning.”
Ian gave a delighted laugh. “As much as I’d love to accept a snog from you, my boy, I think you should save them for Viggo.”
“We may need to take a holiday from acting just to make up for the lost snogs,” Orlando said, trying to keep a straight face, but failing. “I’m not sharing, but I can say that the man is an amazing kisser.”
“I second that,” Billy said as he came into the room and headed for the coffee. “I think my wife appreciates the tips I got from that experience.”
Orlando remembered the exuberant kiss Viggo gave to Billy during the filming of Sam kissing his new wife. After so many takes, when it finally happened to Peter’s satisfaction, Viggo had grabbed Billy and gave the cast and crew something to laugh about for ages. It even made it on to the DVDs during cast interviews. “Remember it fondly, it won’t happen again.”
Billy cackled and took a seat on Ian’s right. “Good night, then?”
“Very good night.” Orlando sat beside him and sighed in remembrance.
“I’m jealous,” Billy declared, but he was smiling. “Now, Sir McKellen, I do believe you promised me Eggs Benedict this fine morning? I need to drown my jealousy in hollandaise sauce.”
“Don’t be impatient,” Ian told him with a smile, before he got up and disappeared into the kitchen that Orlando had yet to see and where he knew there were two cooks busy with readying their meal.
“Dom and Lij went to pick up Astin.”
Orlando sipped his coffee. “Why haven’t we done this before? Just us, not for an interview or photo shoot, but just us?” He’d asked Viggo last night before falling asleep, but all Viggo had been able to say was, “Timing.”
“Those first few years after Rings,” Billy shook his head. “I barely had time to take a honeymoon with my wife, never mind spend time with my friends.”
“I was so busy I couldn’t keep a girl long enough to propose.” Not that he’d ever had the inclination. Orlando decided not to ruminate over his past relationships to see if the problem had been less about his work schedule, and more about the fact that he’d been in love with Viggo too much to love someone else.
“And now life’s calmed down, and we were ready for it.”
“Yeah.” Orlando was about to ask about Billy’s wife to keep himself from thinking about everything that he was ready for now, when he heard the faint sounds of a piano. “I think Viggo is done with his shower.”
They took their coffees to the music room, just off of the living room where they’d laughed in front of the fire the night before, and found Viggo seated at a baby grand. Orlando didn’t recognize the song he was playing, but knowing Viggo, it was simply made up of whatever notes came together as his fingers caressed the keys. Those clever, clever fingers. Orlando shivered and covered it with a cough.
“I know you’re there,” Viggo murmured. “Do you have your phone?”
Orlando got it from his jean’s pocket. “Yeah?”
“I’d like to record this.”
“Okay.” Orlando found the recording app and stepped closer when he began to record. Viggo didn’t play for much longer, to Orlando’s disappointment. He’d listened to a couple of Viggo’s CDs but had never been there to hear him play in person. He was sure that some people wouldn’t see the beauty in the impromptu song, and Orlando may be biased, but there was something free and wonderful about what he now had saved on his mobile. “What shall I title it?”
“Wait No More.”
“They’re back!” came Billy’s shout from another room, and Orlando hadn’t even heard him leave. Viggo was watching him as he set down his coffee cup and very carefully titled and saved the recording.
“I’ll be spending New Years at the ranch in Idaho.”
Orlando slipped his mobile back into his pocket and cupped Viggo’s face with gentle hands. “Is that an invitation?”
Viggo stood, hands on Orlando’s hips. “It is.”
“Will Henry be there?”
“Just us.”
“We have a lot to talk about.”
Viggo touched his forehead to Orlando’s. “I just want to be alone with you.”
Orlando would have given anything to make it happen right at that moment. He tilted his head to kiss Viggo instead, hoping he was able to put his feelings into the kiss.
“You can do that later,” Bean drawled and Orlando stepped back and turned to give him the finger. “You can’t do that, though. I’m taken and Viggo bites.”
“You do?” Orlando asked with a smirk, earning himself a nip to his earlobe that nearly had his knees buckling. “Oh.”
“Stop that and let’s go. A man can only take so much of watching his friends necking like teenagers.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet, I’m still honing my technique.” Orlando heard Viggo tell Bean and began to laugh.
*
THE END & MERRY CHRISTMAS!!
Orlando woke up alone, which wasn’t a surprise, but it was dark outside which was. He rolled over to grab his mobile from the bedside table, only to remember that he wasn’t at his apartment in LA, but at Ian McKellen’s house in England, and he had no idea when was the last time he’d even seen his phone, never mind used it.
Shit.
He had a faint headache but nothing too bad, though his body felt like he’d been part of the Hobbit wrestling match from earlier. He wondered if he missed supper, if he missed Bean and Astin’s arrivals. He sat up with a groan and considered borrowing back under the covers and just calling it a day, but he could still smell Viggo and Jesus there was a lot they needed to talk about.
“Confusing man,” Orlando muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and hissing at the cold wood floor. When the hell had he taken off his socks? He didn’t remember Viggo doing it.
He quickly used the bathroom and changed into a clean pair of jeans and a dark green button up that his sister said went well with his coloring. Whatever that meant. He’d told her that since he had brown hair the green shirt made him look like an upside down tree. She hadn’t been amused.
He could hear voices as he made his way down the staircase, Beans’ voice being the loudest. When the group came into view, Orlando could see Bean acting out whatever story he was telling, using Elijah as a prop. He could see Viggo at the far side of the room, and hoped to get over there to sit beside him on the ornate love seat without being seen in the dim, fire lit room, but he should have known better.
Bean swept him up into a hug so tight he feared for his ribs, and planted a smacking kiss on his cheek. “There’s our Southern Softie,” he said with a grin.
“Get off, you Northern Bastard,” Orlando playfully growled, hugging him back before pushing him away. He could see Viggo hiding a smile as he sipped camomile tea from a mug. “They let all sorts in here.”
“Must do if you’re here.” Bean added insult to injury by giving Orlando a slap on the bum as he tried maneuvering around him. “Admit it, you missed me.”
“Not a bit.” Orlando nonchalantly sat beside Viggo, and ignored the knowing look Bean gave him.
“Where’s our lost Hobbit?” Viggo shifted until his knee was pressed to Orlando’s.
“Flight was delayed.” Elijah held up his mobile and wiggled it. “He won’t be here until tomorrow morning.”
“I pity the airline,” Dom said with a snicker. “We’ll be hearing about it from the time he lands until he’s back in America.”
“Oh god,” Elijah groaned. “We planned a trip to see Windsor Castle and then we’re booked on the same flight home.”
On the floor, leaning on Dom’s knee, Billy began to laugh. “Better find ear muffs!”
“He’ll just need a good distraction,” Ian pointed out. “Each time he brings it up-”
“Snog him,” Dom finished with a nudge of his elbow to Elijah’s side. Billy snorted and smacked his calf.
The warmth of the fire was competing with the warmth of the knee pressed to his, and Orlando was entirely too conscious of the man beside him. Listening to the familiar voices, the laughter, it was like being transported back in time, and Orlando had to remind himself that he was no longer that naive kid who had worshipped Viggo without a care. He watched Dom reach down to card his fingers through Billy’s short hair and remembered seeing pictures of himself or the others in various magazines while filming that asked if there was something more than friendship between the members of the Fellowship. Remembered the questions from friends and family, from his management and publicist.
Lulled by the fire, his friends, the shadow-filled room, Orlando let himself remember the exact moment when he’d been so thankful that nothing had happened with Viggo in New Zealand because it had finally dawned on him how it would have effected his career. At the same time, he’d hated himself for it, hated Hollywood and ignorant people who prized money over love, because he had loved Viggo then, with a purity that he’d never feel again, jaded as he’d become with a trail of failed relationships and movie credits behind him.
“What are you thinking?”
Orlando leaned just a little closer to Viggo and considered the man’s softly spoken question. This wasn’t the place to have the talk that was long overdue, but he could say one thing that Viggo deserved to hear.
“I missed you.”
He heard Viggo’s swift intake of breath, as if he was surprised by the admission, and Orlando’s heart was hurt by that. Viggo had to have known, especially after their naps earlier, wrapped up in each other’s arms and so close Orlando could feel and hear Viggo’s heartbeat. He sighed, and turned to whisper in Viggo’s ear, “Later, when we’re alone, I want to show you how much I missed you.”
“After we talk.”
“We can talk in the morning.”
Viggo chuckled and angled his head to brush a kiss over Orlando’s lips, leaving them tingling.
“Something to share with the class?”
Orlando saw the sparkle in Viggo’s eyes, or perhaps that was just the firelight reflected, before he turned to frown at the room, specifically at Bean who was slouched in the chair across from them, tumbler of whisky in hand. His smirk said it all.
“Oh! Who won the pot?” Billy tugged on the leg of Ian’s trousers.
“Pot?” Orlando shared a look with Viggo. “Did you all bet on us getting together this weekend?”
Dom waved a hand. “This weekend? No, more like a million years ago, on a small island in the Pacific.”
“It was an informal thing until that Christmas party, remember?” Bean was watching Viggo. “Our Orlando got pissed and you let him drag you out to dance before he passed out in your lap?”
“Oh god,” Orlando moaned, remembering more about the hangover he’d had the next day, but having the vague memory of nearly smashing Viggo in the nose with a flailing arm.
“I let him sleep with his head on my lap,” Viggo corrected. “You make it sound as though-”
“You didn’t move for two hours while the elf slept.”
“Really?” Orlando grinned. “You never said.”
“He actually growled at someone who came over to take a picture,” Billy added.
“You can imagine how disappointed we were when nothing came of it other than a bit of embarrassment.” Ian gave them a stern look. “I’ve had the bets locked in my safe.” He looked around the room. “I’ll be calling Liv after lunch tomorrow.”
As the others began to talk about who had bet what, Orlando took one of Viggo’s hands, linking their fingers. “I think we’ve done our part as the entertainment.”
“What time will breakfast be served?” Viggo asked, raising his voice to get Ian’s attention.
“Eight o’clock.” Ian made a shooing motion. “Go, so we may speculate on what you’re doing up there.”
“Down to the last squishy detail,” Dom added, and was caught in a headlock by Elijah.
Orlando stood with Viggo, still holding his hand. “We’re going to talk.”
“Lemme hear your body talk, your body talk,” Bean sang quietly, and even Orlando had to laugh at that.
“Daft man.”
“Goodnight,” Viggo offered in that calm voice he liked to use just before all hell broke out, and so Orlando wasn’t the least bit surprised when, after Viggo set his mug on the end table beside Ian, he took off at a run for the stairs, their friends’ laughter following them upstairs.
As soon as the door was closed, Orlando was pressed against it, Viggo kissing him like it was the last time they’d have the chance, but it wasn’t, it would never be the last time if he had anything to say about it. Orlando wrapped his arms around Viggo and lost himself in the taste and feel of Viggo’s mouth.
They had to talk, there was so much they had to say, but there was no way Orlando was going to stop until he had to, not now that he had Viggo right where he wanted him.
*
“If you had said something, I would have said yes,” Viggo said some time later when they were laying in bed, Orlando’s body still buzzing from the touch of Viggo’s hands all over him, sated from an intense orgasm that was, as Viggo had whispered, the first of many. “But I couldn’t make that decision for you.” Viggo was on his back, Orlando beside him on his stomach, arms around a pillow, studying his lover’s profile.
“I was so mad for you.” Orlando smiled at the flush that warmed his face as he thought back to all of the ways he’d tried to impress Viggo. “The fishing trip.”
Viggo’s bark of laughter said it all.
“If you’d rejected me,” Orlando admitted, “I’d have been beyond devastated. I couldn’t take that chance.”
“And I knew what being with me would have done to your career.”
“Not yours?”
Viggo shrugged. “I enjoy acting, but I could live without it.”
Orlando didn’t understand that, not just because he was addicted to acting, but because Viggo was a born actor, was so believable in any role that Orlando couldn’t understand why he didn’t have a room filled with awards. Unwanted awards, maybe, but acknowledgement at least.
“You didn’t need the stigma when your star was rising so damned fast,” Viggo continued, moving to his side so that they were facing each other. “There will still be a stigma, but I don’t honestly give a shit.”
“I think the only ones who will care are our management teams and my Gran.”
“Your Gran?” Viggo shifted closer.
“She wants great-grandchildren and my sister told her not to hold her breath, so it’s on me apparently.”
“We’ll introduce her to Henry. All Grans love him.”
Orlando grinned. “He’s doing well?”
“More than. And our management teams can kiss my ass, though I think my publicist will be happy to finally have something to do. I’ve been told I am a boring client and she feels guilty taking my money each month.”
A yawn stopped Orlando’s response. “Sorry, I can’t believe I’m still tired after sleeping all afternoon.”
“Sleep, we have all of tomorrow.”
“And then? I’ll be in Canterbury for Christmas.”
“I’ll be in Los Angeles.”
Orlando sighed. “When’s your flight out?”
“Thursday.”
That woke him up a bit. “You’re here for week?”
“I was...optimistic.”
Orlando had to kiss him for that.
Optimistic, indeed.
*
“Coffee, coffee, coffee,” Orlando chanted, homing in on the silver carafe on the sideboard in the dining room. He wasn’t even aware of anyone else in the room until Ian said, “Good morning, Orlando.”
“Ian, after I wake up, I might have to snog you stupid.” Orlando poured a cup of dark nectar and added two sugars. He glanced over his shoulder and winked. “Good morning.”
Ian gave a delighted laugh. “As much as I’d love to accept a snog from you, my boy, I think you should save them for Viggo.”
“We may need to take a holiday from acting just to make up for the lost snogs,” Orlando said, trying to keep a straight face, but failing. “I’m not sharing, but I can say that the man is an amazing kisser.”
“I second that,” Billy said as he came into the room and headed for the coffee. “I think my wife appreciates the tips I got from that experience.”
Orlando remembered the exuberant kiss Viggo gave to Billy during the filming of Sam kissing his new wife. After so many takes, when it finally happened to Peter’s satisfaction, Viggo had grabbed Billy and gave the cast and crew something to laugh about for ages. It even made it on to the DVDs during cast interviews. “Remember it fondly, it won’t happen again.”
Billy cackled and took a seat on Ian’s right. “Good night, then?”
“Very good night.” Orlando sat beside him and sighed in remembrance.
“I’m jealous,” Billy declared, but he was smiling. “Now, Sir McKellen, I do believe you promised me Eggs Benedict this fine morning? I need to drown my jealousy in hollandaise sauce.”
“Don’t be impatient,” Ian told him with a smile, before he got up and disappeared into the kitchen that Orlando had yet to see and where he knew there were two cooks busy with readying their meal.
“Dom and Lij went to pick up Astin.”
Orlando sipped his coffee. “Why haven’t we done this before? Just us, not for an interview or photo shoot, but just us?” He’d asked Viggo last night before falling asleep, but all Viggo had been able to say was, “Timing.”
“Those first few years after Rings,” Billy shook his head. “I barely had time to take a honeymoon with my wife, never mind spend time with my friends.”
“I was so busy I couldn’t keep a girl long enough to propose.” Not that he’d ever had the inclination. Orlando decided not to ruminate over his past relationships to see if the problem had been less about his work schedule, and more about the fact that he’d been in love with Viggo too much to love someone else.
“And now life’s calmed down, and we were ready for it.”
“Yeah.” Orlando was about to ask about Billy’s wife to keep himself from thinking about everything that he was ready for now, when he heard the faint sounds of a piano. “I think Viggo is done with his shower.”
They took their coffees to the music room, just off of the living room where they’d laughed in front of the fire the night before, and found Viggo seated at a baby grand. Orlando didn’t recognize the song he was playing, but knowing Viggo, it was simply made up of whatever notes came together as his fingers caressed the keys. Those clever, clever fingers. Orlando shivered and covered it with a cough.
“I know you’re there,” Viggo murmured. “Do you have your phone?”
Orlando got it from his jean’s pocket. “Yeah?”
“I’d like to record this.”
“Okay.” Orlando found the recording app and stepped closer when he began to record. Viggo didn’t play for much longer, to Orlando’s disappointment. He’d listened to a couple of Viggo’s CDs but had never been there to hear him play in person. He was sure that some people wouldn’t see the beauty in the impromptu song, and Orlando may be biased, but there was something free and wonderful about what he now had saved on his mobile. “What shall I title it?”
“Wait No More.”
“They’re back!” came Billy’s shout from another room, and Orlando hadn’t even heard him leave. Viggo was watching him as he set down his coffee cup and very carefully titled and saved the recording.
“I’ll be spending New Years at the ranch in Idaho.”
Orlando slipped his mobile back into his pocket and cupped Viggo’s face with gentle hands. “Is that an invitation?”
Viggo stood, hands on Orlando’s hips. “It is.”
“Will Henry be there?”
“Just us.”
“We have a lot to talk about.”
Viggo touched his forehead to Orlando’s. “I just want to be alone with you.”
Orlando would have given anything to make it happen right at that moment. He tilted his head to kiss Viggo instead, hoping he was able to put his feelings into the kiss.
“You can do that later,” Bean drawled and Orlando stepped back and turned to give him the finger. “You can’t do that, though. I’m taken and Viggo bites.”
“You do?” Orlando asked with a smirk, earning himself a nip to his earlobe that nearly had his knees buckling. “Oh.”
“Stop that and let’s go. A man can only take so much of watching his friends necking like teenagers.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet, I’m still honing my technique.” Orlando heard Viggo tell Bean and began to laugh.
*
THE END & MERRY CHRISTMAS!!
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Date: 2013-12-26 06:36 am (UTC)(I had intended to read it yesterday but saw the R rating. Figured as there were minors - who can read some English - within eyeshot of the screen I'd best wait until they were not up as I was not sure how racy it would get. :P)
((I think I know who wrote this so I'm looking forward to finding out who did, so I can see how far off the mark I am. *g*))
no subject
Date: 2014-01-08 01:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-27 11:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-08 01:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-01 11:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-08 02:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-07 09:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-08 02:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-07 09:58 pm (UTC)*hugs*
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Date: 2014-01-08 02:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-08 05:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-08 07:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-09 02:25 pm (UTC)Thanks for sharing your world. *hugs*
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Date: 2014-01-10 02:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-09 10:55 pm (UTC)You're back where you belong. No arguments.
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Date: 2014-01-10 02:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-10 02:21 pm (UTC)