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fellowshippers2004-12-01 06:47 pm
sileya.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-12-01 06:47 pm
Bittersweet Symphony 8/17
Title: Bittersweet Symphony (8/17)
Author: Sileya, sileya@yahoo.com, www.sileya.net,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sileya
Pairing: VM/OB
Rating, Warnings: overall NC-17, AU
Summary: Viggo watches a plane crash and helps the survivors – one of whom will change the direction of his life.
Disclaimer: This is a work of celebrity fan FICTION. I make no claims as to the veracity of this material, it is for entertainment purposes only.
Author’s Note: Beta by the graciousrazzleslash. This plotline is very loosely based on a rather obscure 1980s movie. I’ll reveal the movie after the last chapter, cause I don’t want to risk giving major plot points away.
Feedback: PLEASE.
Previous Chapters
==
==
Orlando sighed happily as the hot water washed over him. He’d been half afraid he wouldn’t be able to feel the water or something similarly weird. He stood under the spray, letting it pound at his shoulder muscles.
Big surprise that you’re tense, Bloom, Orlando told himself. What with the whole getting dead and all.
He chuckled morbidly, grabbing the bar of soap and running it over his chest as the bathroom fogged up.
Viggo sat out in the bedroom at the small dressing table, digging through the drawers for something Orlando could wear. He wasn’t sure how the whole ghost thing and his sweats would work, but he had picked up Orlando’s clothes and saw the dirt and grime from the crash and decided to wash them.
Orlando let his mind wander as the steam enveloped him, and it wandered directly back to Viggo. He sighed as his hand settled on stroking his half-hard cock idly, smiling at the warm tightness in his midsection. He thought about how they’d sat silently under the tree, inches apart. How he had wished for the courage to lean forward and kiss Viggo. How he’d thought for a moment that Viggo would lean forward and kiss him. But Viggo had eventually pulled away.
Viggo was courteous, gallant and kind, Orlando thought, suppressing a sigh. And sexy. Don’t forget sexy. He remembered the warm flush of his body as he’d watched Viggo astride Brego, clad in well-worn jeans and a chambray shirt. I wish we could have met when I was alive. I would have…
Orlando paused. Would have…what? He shuddered as his cock tightened and throbbed, following his train of thought even while his mind shied away.
I would have loved him.
Viggo tossed the clothes he’d chosen for Orlando on the bed, glancing over at the bathroom door that stood ajar. He could hear the water running and thought about setting the sweats just inside.
“Dad?”
Viggo jumped in surprise, turning around. “Henry?”
Henry smiled. “Who else calls you Dad?”
“Uh, nobody. You just caught me by surprise.” Viggo smiled genuinely at his son and glanced back to the bathroom.
Henry’s face turned quizzical and he glanced toward the bathroom. “Is someone here?”
Viggo shook his head quickly. “No, I was just going to take a shower.”
Henry nodded. “Well, can it wait? I need to talk to you.”
Viggo glanced again at the door, and Henry mistook the action. “I’ll turn off the water.”
Viggo opened his mouth to protest, but Henry was already pushing the door open and walking in. He followed close behind, stopping in the doorway when Henry jerked back the shower curtain.
Orlando gasped as he fisted his soapy cock, feeling the eruption coming from deep in his gut, and a whisper of a name falling from his lips. “Viggo…”
When the curtain was thrown back, he jerked in surprise and stifled his howl into a groan, the cool air hitting his overheated skin and throwing him over the edge, his cock pumping in his hand.
Viggo watched with wide eyes, stuck in place, as Henry leaned unknowingly past Orlando’s arching body and turned off the water. His blood pounded in his ears as his brain told him exactly why Orlando was bracing himself against the wall, why his back was arched like that, why he was gripping his spasming cock. He flushed when he heard Orlando’s groan and swallowed hard, looking up to see Orlando’s face, but Henry stood and blocked his view.
“Dad?”
“Bloody hell, Viggo.”
Viggo smiled awkwardly, hearing the strangled whisper from the shower. He woodenly turned in place and walked out of the bathroom, Henry close behind.
Orlando sagged against the wall after they left. He was unable to sort out the feelings -- the wild embarrassment of Viggo seeing him mid-wank, the utter thrill of the amazement in Viggo’s eyes, the crashing pleasure that mixed the two.
He stood there for a bit, then climbed out and wet a washrag to clean off before wrapping up in a towel and peeking out into the bedroom. They were gone.
Viggo led Henry down to his office, trying to calm his breathing and drive the blush from his cheeks. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck… Viggo wasn’t having any luck calming his thoughts. Did I really hear my name before Henry opened the shower curtain?
“Dad? Are you OK? You’re awfully…distracted.”
Viggo disguised his snort of laughter as a slight cough and sat on the couch. Henry joined him.
“Dad, Christine’s told me about the divorce…”
All lewd thoughts fled Viggo’s mind and he suddenly felt cold. “Henry, let me explain…”
“… and I think she’s being a total bitch.”
Viggo blinked, then his mouth quirked. “Really.”
Henry nodded soberly.
Viggo chuckled and leaned over to hug him. “I suppose you know a lot about women now that you’re in college and all.”
Henry shrugged. “Not really. But I know Christine, and I know you. This has never been the Cleaver family. You and she made life really nice for me – even if she won’t let me call her Mom, now -- and I know you both love me.” He paused and looked seriously at his father. “Just like I know you never loved each other.”
Viggo didn’t know what to say. He clasped his hands and closed his eyes for a moment before looking back up. “What is it you want to talk about, Henry?”
“I think you should fight her to keep Minas Tirith and the stables. They’re your life, and you know it,” Henry said, almost vehemently.
Viggo’s face was pained. “Henry, I can’t control what the judge decides.”
Henry took Viggo’s folded hands in his. “Yes, you can. And I’ll help.”
Viggo shook his head. “I don’t want you to get into the middle of all this.”
“Too late, Dad,” Henry sighed. “Mom…Christine has already been at me to testify about what a shitty father you’ve been.”
Viggo drew back in shock. “I may have been a shitty husband, I’ll give her that. But I’ve always tried to be the best father I could be.”
“And you have been. You are. But you see, she’s not going to play fair,” Henry sighed. “And I don’t think you should either.”
Viggo nodded slowly, listening.
Author: Sileya, sileya@yahoo.com, www.sileya.net,
sileyaPairing: VM/OB
Rating, Warnings: overall NC-17, AU
Summary: Viggo watches a plane crash and helps the survivors – one of whom will change the direction of his life.
Disclaimer: This is a work of celebrity fan FICTION. I make no claims as to the veracity of this material, it is for entertainment purposes only.
Author’s Note: Beta by the gracious
razzleslash. This plotline is very loosely based on a rather obscure 1980s movie. I’ll reveal the movie after the last chapter, cause I don’t want to risk giving major plot points away.Feedback: PLEASE.
Previous Chapters
==
==
Orlando sighed happily as the hot water washed over him. He’d been half afraid he wouldn’t be able to feel the water or something similarly weird. He stood under the spray, letting it pound at his shoulder muscles.
Big surprise that you’re tense, Bloom, Orlando told himself. What with the whole getting dead and all.
He chuckled morbidly, grabbing the bar of soap and running it over his chest as the bathroom fogged up.
Viggo sat out in the bedroom at the small dressing table, digging through the drawers for something Orlando could wear. He wasn’t sure how the whole ghost thing and his sweats would work, but he had picked up Orlando’s clothes and saw the dirt and grime from the crash and decided to wash them.
Orlando let his mind wander as the steam enveloped him, and it wandered directly back to Viggo. He sighed as his hand settled on stroking his half-hard cock idly, smiling at the warm tightness in his midsection. He thought about how they’d sat silently under the tree, inches apart. How he had wished for the courage to lean forward and kiss Viggo. How he’d thought for a moment that Viggo would lean forward and kiss him. But Viggo had eventually pulled away.
Viggo was courteous, gallant and kind, Orlando thought, suppressing a sigh. And sexy. Don’t forget sexy. He remembered the warm flush of his body as he’d watched Viggo astride Brego, clad in well-worn jeans and a chambray shirt. I wish we could have met when I was alive. I would have…
Orlando paused. Would have…what? He shuddered as his cock tightened and throbbed, following his train of thought even while his mind shied away.
I would have loved him.
Viggo tossed the clothes he’d chosen for Orlando on the bed, glancing over at the bathroom door that stood ajar. He could hear the water running and thought about setting the sweats just inside.
“Dad?”
Viggo jumped in surprise, turning around. “Henry?”
Henry smiled. “Who else calls you Dad?”
“Uh, nobody. You just caught me by surprise.” Viggo smiled genuinely at his son and glanced back to the bathroom.
Henry’s face turned quizzical and he glanced toward the bathroom. “Is someone here?”
Viggo shook his head quickly. “No, I was just going to take a shower.”
Henry nodded. “Well, can it wait? I need to talk to you.”
Viggo glanced again at the door, and Henry mistook the action. “I’ll turn off the water.”
Viggo opened his mouth to protest, but Henry was already pushing the door open and walking in. He followed close behind, stopping in the doorway when Henry jerked back the shower curtain.
Orlando gasped as he fisted his soapy cock, feeling the eruption coming from deep in his gut, and a whisper of a name falling from his lips. “Viggo…”
When the curtain was thrown back, he jerked in surprise and stifled his howl into a groan, the cool air hitting his overheated skin and throwing him over the edge, his cock pumping in his hand.
Viggo watched with wide eyes, stuck in place, as Henry leaned unknowingly past Orlando’s arching body and turned off the water. His blood pounded in his ears as his brain told him exactly why Orlando was bracing himself against the wall, why his back was arched like that, why he was gripping his spasming cock. He flushed when he heard Orlando’s groan and swallowed hard, looking up to see Orlando’s face, but Henry stood and blocked his view.
“Dad?”
“Bloody hell, Viggo.”
Viggo smiled awkwardly, hearing the strangled whisper from the shower. He woodenly turned in place and walked out of the bathroom, Henry close behind.
Orlando sagged against the wall after they left. He was unable to sort out the feelings -- the wild embarrassment of Viggo seeing him mid-wank, the utter thrill of the amazement in Viggo’s eyes, the crashing pleasure that mixed the two.
He stood there for a bit, then climbed out and wet a washrag to clean off before wrapping up in a towel and peeking out into the bedroom. They were gone.
Viggo led Henry down to his office, trying to calm his breathing and drive the blush from his cheeks. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck… Viggo wasn’t having any luck calming his thoughts. Did I really hear my name before Henry opened the shower curtain?
“Dad? Are you OK? You’re awfully…distracted.”
Viggo disguised his snort of laughter as a slight cough and sat on the couch. Henry joined him.
“Dad, Christine’s told me about the divorce…”
All lewd thoughts fled Viggo’s mind and he suddenly felt cold. “Henry, let me explain…”
“… and I think she’s being a total bitch.”
Viggo blinked, then his mouth quirked. “Really.”
Henry nodded soberly.
Viggo chuckled and leaned over to hug him. “I suppose you know a lot about women now that you’re in college and all.”
Henry shrugged. “Not really. But I know Christine, and I know you. This has never been the Cleaver family. You and she made life really nice for me – even if she won’t let me call her Mom, now -- and I know you both love me.” He paused and looked seriously at his father. “Just like I know you never loved each other.”
Viggo didn’t know what to say. He clasped his hands and closed his eyes for a moment before looking back up. “What is it you want to talk about, Henry?”
“I think you should fight her to keep Minas Tirith and the stables. They’re your life, and you know it,” Henry said, almost vehemently.
Viggo’s face was pained. “Henry, I can’t control what the judge decides.”
Henry took Viggo’s folded hands in his. “Yes, you can. And I’ll help.”
Viggo shook his head. “I don’t want you to get into the middle of all this.”
“Too late, Dad,” Henry sighed. “Mom…Christine has already been at me to testify about what a shitty father you’ve been.”
Viggo drew back in shock. “I may have been a shitty husband, I’ll give her that. But I’ve always tried to be the best father I could be.”
“And you have been. You are. But you see, she’s not going to play fair,” Henry sighed. “And I don’t think you should either.”
Viggo nodded slowly, listening.
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and uhm shower scene Orli? HAWT...
:) still loving it! keep up the good work (...even though you already finished it. ;p )
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Anyhow, yeah. So far, the only disadvantges to being dead are not eating and not being seen. Except of course by Viggo. And I know that that will quickly get annoying, but right now, life (pun intended this time) doesn't seem so bad for our poor dead little elf.
And I'm seriously wondering where you're going to take all of this in only... 9 chapters. Are you sure there's no more? I wouldn't mind. Really.
*sits down and waits for tomorrow*
Adrienne
no subject