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zebraljb.livejournal.com) wrote in
fellowshippers2005-12-29 12:20 pm
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Unexpected Gift 5/6
author: zebraljb
rating: eventually nc17
disclaimer: AU, but without any bad intentions towards the people I don't know
note: for the vo_xmas challenge asking for an AU with Top!Orli
Viggo made sure Orlando could walk well on his own before quickly leading the way across the parking lot. He unlocked the passenger door, shoved the magazine and some other things to the floor, and waited for Orlando to climb in before closing the door behind him. He rubbed at his face as he walked around the car. Things were going to get very interesting very quickly.
Viggo got into the car and started the engine. “What are you still doing here?” Orlando asked.
“Hmm?” Viggo said vaguely.
“You left hours ago. Why are you still here?” Orlando leaned against the car door.
Viggo sighed. There was no good way to get out of this. If he told the truth, he’d seem like a psycho. If he lied, it would just dig the hole deeper, and he really didn’t feel like lying to Orlando any longer. “Look, Orlando, let me just say one thing, okay? I never ever meant to hurt you.”
“You said that already. What’s going on, Peter?”
“My name isn’t Peter. I mean, it is, but it’s my middle name.” Viggo took the highway out of the city, heading for the wealthier section of town. “I usually don’t use my first name.”
“What is your first name?”
Viggo ignored him. “I find that I get judged by my name, just as I’m sure you get judged by your pretty face, right?” Orlando shrugged. “Those men judged you by your looks. They assumed you were gay.”
“They were right,” Orlando said without thinking, then clapped a hand over his mouth.
Viggo clenched the steering wheel. He didn’t need to hear that. He didn’t need to know that he had one tiny slim chance with Orlando. “My name is Viggo,” he said as he turned into his development.
“Viggo. I’ve heard that name before. The man who runs Mortensen Enterprises has the name Viggo. I remember it because I always thought it was such an unusual…” Orlando stared at the gated estate looming ahead of them. “…lovely name,” he finished, eyes wide. “Holy fuck.”
Viggo rolled down his window and entered a few numbers on a keypad. The iron gates swung open. He nodded at the security guard. “Evening, Dave.”
“Mr. Mortensen.” The guard nodded back. “Have a good evening.”
Viggo drove the car up to the house, opening the garage with the remote clipped to his sun visor. He carefully pulled in, the heavy door closing behind them. “Now…about that ice. We can go into the kitchen from here.” As soon as his car door opened, the garage was flooded with light.
“Holy fuck,” Orlando whispered again, staring at the Ferrari and the Rolls Royce.
Viggo smiled timidly. “The Rolls was my father’s. I can’t bring myself to get rid of it.” He unlocked the door to the building. “Right through here.” Orlando followed at his heels as Viggo flicked on the light. “Have a seat.” He pointed to a long island in the middle of the giant kitchen. Viggo obviously used this kitchen on a regular basis; he moved with ease and immediately found what he was looking for. He handed Orlando a dishtowel filled with ice. “Put this on your face.”
“Do you have…uh…staff?” Orlando asked weakly.
“A housekeeper and a butler,” Viggo said, smiling. “I really only need the housekeeper, but John’s been with the family forever, and I can’t bear to let him go. I let him think he’s necessary.” Viggo sat across from him. “Just let me talk, okay, and then I will listen to whatever you have to say. I’ll also drive you home as soon as I’m done talking, if it’s what you want.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want anything to drink?” Viggo asked suddenly. “I could use something.”
“Yeah. Something strong,” Orlando requested, and Viggo smiled faintly. He went to a cabinet, coming back with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He poured one and gave it to Orlando, who sipped at it.
“Obviously you know my family. Even if the family name wasn’t so incredibly high profile in this area, my first name is less than common.” Viggo grinned. “You’d understand what it’s like to have a unique first name.” Orlando barely nodded. “I need time to be Viggo. Not Viggo Mortensen, just Viggo. Not a lot of people know Viggo; my friend Sean does, my brother does. My mother does, though she doesn’t really like him. Viggo sits around in his boxers and watches baseball. Viggo works on his car.”
“Viggo paints,” Orlando said softly.
“Viggo paints,” Viggo repeated, nodding. “I have a studio upstairs. It’s my favorite room in this whole damn place.” He finished his drink and poured another. “I was still there tonight because I stay every night you work, as long as I don’t have to be somewhere very early the next morning.” Orlando choked on his drink. “I stay to make sure that you’re okay, that you’re safely in your car and on your way home.” Viggo shook his head. “Tonight I wasn’t paying attention. I was reading that stupid magazine.” He clenched his hands into fists.
“You saved me,” Orlando said softly. “If it wasn’t for you…”
“You wouldn’t have that bruise,” Viggo interrupted.
“If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be in that parking lot, a dick in my mouth, maybe even another one up my arse,” Orlando said bluntly. “Thank you. Thank you SO much. You…you…”
“I did what anyone would do,” Viggo said. Orlando raised an eyebrow. “I know I’ve lied to you, Orlando, but it was never with malicious intent. I just wanted you to like me for me. And I’m not some kind of stalker, that I promise you. Everything I’ve done has been with the very best of intentions.”
Orlando sighed, shaking his head. “This has been a very enlightening evening.” Viggo snorted but didn’t reply. “You say you wanted me to like you?” Viggo nodded. “How?” Viggo looked at him strangely. “Sorry. That made no sense. Are you just looking for a new friend, someone to be Viggo with instead of Mr. Mortensen?” Orlando poured himself another shot, then downed it quickly. “Or are you looking for something more?” He watched Viggo swallow deeply. “I don’t go around blowing men I hardly know, in parking lots or otherwise, Viggo.”
“No! I never thought that! Never wanted that!” Viggo protested violently. “I mean, I want it, have thought about it…I mean, I’m interested…oh, fuck.” Viggo closed his eyes.
Orlando chuckled. “And you run a business? I can’t imagine you giving a speech in a boardroom, saying “oh fuck” when it’s not going your way.” He touched Viggo’s hand. “I’m assuming you’re gay.”
“Yes,” Viggo said softly. “Another thing I pretty much have to hide right now. If I had something concrete, a true relationship, I’d come out. But right now I can’t just go to a gay bar and try to connect with someone…it looks really bad.”
“Understandable. I don’t like those places myself.” Orlando put down the towel and slowly walked around the counter to stand by Viggo. “I have been nursing the most amazing crush on you for weeks now. You come into the restaurant, and it’s like a weight lifts off of me for that short time you’re there.”
“What?” Viggo whispered.
“You make it all go away, just by smiling at me,” Orlando said shyly.
“Seeing you helps me sleep at night,” Viggo confided quietly. Orlando blushed.
“Well, looks like we’re in the same boat, then.” Orlando took Viggo’s face in his hands and gently kissed him. “Except that your boat is a yacht, and my boat is more like a dinghy.”
Viggo didn’t smile. “I can’t erase what I am, Orlando. This is part of me, too.” He waved a hand at the lavish house. “But it’s not all of me.”
“I can’t erase what I am, either. I refused to be a kept man, not working just because you have money.”
“You make it sound like something’s going to happen between us,” Viggo said, trying hard not to sound too hopeful.
“I’d like something to happen,” Orlando admitted. “How about you?”
“I don’t have any long-term goals,” Viggo said, ever the businessman. “But short-term? I’d love nothing more than to take you through this house to show you my studio, and maybe even my bedroom.” He took Orlando’s slender hand in his. “However, I am totally fine with just showing you the studio, then taking you home.”
Orlando tugged Viggo off the stool. “Lead me to your studio, Michelangelo.”
They held hands as Viggo led him through the large house and up the stairs. He didn’t bother pointing things out; much of it had been left to him by his father, and he didn’t feel like changing anything. The second floor was more his domain. “Okay.” Viggo took a deep breath, smiling at Orlando. “Not many people get to see this. Be kind.” He turned on the light and let Orlando walk in ahead of him.
“Oh, Viggo.” Orlando walked up to the three easels in the middle of the room. Various finished and unfinished paintings leaned against the walls. “I don’t know much about art, but I love them. The colors…”
“I’m glad,” Viggo said, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I love it. I’ve had a showing or two, mostly charity things, but I’d love to actually fill a whole gallery for a serious show.”
“You could. This stuff is great.” Orlando turned around, a brilliant smile on his face. “You really are an artist.”
Viggo colored slightly, scuffing his foot on the ground. “Not really, but thank you. Your approval means a lot. I’m just so glad you’re not angry at me for lying.”
“Like you said, it wasn’t malicious.” Orlando walked over and took Viggo’s hands. He wove Viggo’s arms around his own waist, pressing his body against Viggo’s. “You said something about showing me your bedroom.”
rating: eventually nc17
disclaimer: AU, but without any bad intentions towards the people I don't know
note: for the vo_xmas challenge asking for an AU with Top!Orli
Viggo made sure Orlando could walk well on his own before quickly leading the way across the parking lot. He unlocked the passenger door, shoved the magazine and some other things to the floor, and waited for Orlando to climb in before closing the door behind him. He rubbed at his face as he walked around the car. Things were going to get very interesting very quickly.
Viggo got into the car and started the engine. “What are you still doing here?” Orlando asked.
“Hmm?” Viggo said vaguely.
“You left hours ago. Why are you still here?” Orlando leaned against the car door.
Viggo sighed. There was no good way to get out of this. If he told the truth, he’d seem like a psycho. If he lied, it would just dig the hole deeper, and he really didn’t feel like lying to Orlando any longer. “Look, Orlando, let me just say one thing, okay? I never ever meant to hurt you.”
“You said that already. What’s going on, Peter?”
“My name isn’t Peter. I mean, it is, but it’s my middle name.” Viggo took the highway out of the city, heading for the wealthier section of town. “I usually don’t use my first name.”
“What is your first name?”
Viggo ignored him. “I find that I get judged by my name, just as I’m sure you get judged by your pretty face, right?” Orlando shrugged. “Those men judged you by your looks. They assumed you were gay.”
“They were right,” Orlando said without thinking, then clapped a hand over his mouth.
Viggo clenched the steering wheel. He didn’t need to hear that. He didn’t need to know that he had one tiny slim chance with Orlando. “My name is Viggo,” he said as he turned into his development.
“Viggo. I’ve heard that name before. The man who runs Mortensen Enterprises has the name Viggo. I remember it because I always thought it was such an unusual…” Orlando stared at the gated estate looming ahead of them. “…lovely name,” he finished, eyes wide. “Holy fuck.”
Viggo rolled down his window and entered a few numbers on a keypad. The iron gates swung open. He nodded at the security guard. “Evening, Dave.”
“Mr. Mortensen.” The guard nodded back. “Have a good evening.”
Viggo drove the car up to the house, opening the garage with the remote clipped to his sun visor. He carefully pulled in, the heavy door closing behind them. “Now…about that ice. We can go into the kitchen from here.” As soon as his car door opened, the garage was flooded with light.
“Holy fuck,” Orlando whispered again, staring at the Ferrari and the Rolls Royce.
Viggo smiled timidly. “The Rolls was my father’s. I can’t bring myself to get rid of it.” He unlocked the door to the building. “Right through here.” Orlando followed at his heels as Viggo flicked on the light. “Have a seat.” He pointed to a long island in the middle of the giant kitchen. Viggo obviously used this kitchen on a regular basis; he moved with ease and immediately found what he was looking for. He handed Orlando a dishtowel filled with ice. “Put this on your face.”
“Do you have…uh…staff?” Orlando asked weakly.
“A housekeeper and a butler,” Viggo said, smiling. “I really only need the housekeeper, but John’s been with the family forever, and I can’t bear to let him go. I let him think he’s necessary.” Viggo sat across from him. “Just let me talk, okay, and then I will listen to whatever you have to say. I’ll also drive you home as soon as I’m done talking, if it’s what you want.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want anything to drink?” Viggo asked suddenly. “I could use something.”
“Yeah. Something strong,” Orlando requested, and Viggo smiled faintly. He went to a cabinet, coming back with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He poured one and gave it to Orlando, who sipped at it.
“Obviously you know my family. Even if the family name wasn’t so incredibly high profile in this area, my first name is less than common.” Viggo grinned. “You’d understand what it’s like to have a unique first name.” Orlando barely nodded. “I need time to be Viggo. Not Viggo Mortensen, just Viggo. Not a lot of people know Viggo; my friend Sean does, my brother does. My mother does, though she doesn’t really like him. Viggo sits around in his boxers and watches baseball. Viggo works on his car.”
“Viggo paints,” Orlando said softly.
“Viggo paints,” Viggo repeated, nodding. “I have a studio upstairs. It’s my favorite room in this whole damn place.” He finished his drink and poured another. “I was still there tonight because I stay every night you work, as long as I don’t have to be somewhere very early the next morning.” Orlando choked on his drink. “I stay to make sure that you’re okay, that you’re safely in your car and on your way home.” Viggo shook his head. “Tonight I wasn’t paying attention. I was reading that stupid magazine.” He clenched his hands into fists.
“You saved me,” Orlando said softly. “If it wasn’t for you…”
“You wouldn’t have that bruise,” Viggo interrupted.
“If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be in that parking lot, a dick in my mouth, maybe even another one up my arse,” Orlando said bluntly. “Thank you. Thank you SO much. You…you…”
“I did what anyone would do,” Viggo said. Orlando raised an eyebrow. “I know I’ve lied to you, Orlando, but it was never with malicious intent. I just wanted you to like me for me. And I’m not some kind of stalker, that I promise you. Everything I’ve done has been with the very best of intentions.”
Orlando sighed, shaking his head. “This has been a very enlightening evening.” Viggo snorted but didn’t reply. “You say you wanted me to like you?” Viggo nodded. “How?” Viggo looked at him strangely. “Sorry. That made no sense. Are you just looking for a new friend, someone to be Viggo with instead of Mr. Mortensen?” Orlando poured himself another shot, then downed it quickly. “Or are you looking for something more?” He watched Viggo swallow deeply. “I don’t go around blowing men I hardly know, in parking lots or otherwise, Viggo.”
“No! I never thought that! Never wanted that!” Viggo protested violently. “I mean, I want it, have thought about it…I mean, I’m interested…oh, fuck.” Viggo closed his eyes.
Orlando chuckled. “And you run a business? I can’t imagine you giving a speech in a boardroom, saying “oh fuck” when it’s not going your way.” He touched Viggo’s hand. “I’m assuming you’re gay.”
“Yes,” Viggo said softly. “Another thing I pretty much have to hide right now. If I had something concrete, a true relationship, I’d come out. But right now I can’t just go to a gay bar and try to connect with someone…it looks really bad.”
“Understandable. I don’t like those places myself.” Orlando put down the towel and slowly walked around the counter to stand by Viggo. “I have been nursing the most amazing crush on you for weeks now. You come into the restaurant, and it’s like a weight lifts off of me for that short time you’re there.”
“What?” Viggo whispered.
“You make it all go away, just by smiling at me,” Orlando said shyly.
“Seeing you helps me sleep at night,” Viggo confided quietly. Orlando blushed.
“Well, looks like we’re in the same boat, then.” Orlando took Viggo’s face in his hands and gently kissed him. “Except that your boat is a yacht, and my boat is more like a dinghy.”
Viggo didn’t smile. “I can’t erase what I am, Orlando. This is part of me, too.” He waved a hand at the lavish house. “But it’s not all of me.”
“I can’t erase what I am, either. I refused to be a kept man, not working just because you have money.”
“You make it sound like something’s going to happen between us,” Viggo said, trying hard not to sound too hopeful.
“I’d like something to happen,” Orlando admitted. “How about you?”
“I don’t have any long-term goals,” Viggo said, ever the businessman. “But short-term? I’d love nothing more than to take you through this house to show you my studio, and maybe even my bedroom.” He took Orlando’s slender hand in his. “However, I am totally fine with just showing you the studio, then taking you home.”
Orlando tugged Viggo off the stool. “Lead me to your studio, Michelangelo.”
They held hands as Viggo led him through the large house and up the stairs. He didn’t bother pointing things out; much of it had been left to him by his father, and he didn’t feel like changing anything. The second floor was more his domain. “Okay.” Viggo took a deep breath, smiling at Orlando. “Not many people get to see this. Be kind.” He turned on the light and let Orlando walk in ahead of him.
“Oh, Viggo.” Orlando walked up to the three easels in the middle of the room. Various finished and unfinished paintings leaned against the walls. “I don’t know much about art, but I love them. The colors…”
“I’m glad,” Viggo said, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I love it. I’ve had a showing or two, mostly charity things, but I’d love to actually fill a whole gallery for a serious show.”
“You could. This stuff is great.” Orlando turned around, a brilliant smile on his face. “You really are an artist.”
Viggo colored slightly, scuffing his foot on the ground. “Not really, but thank you. Your approval means a lot. I’m just so glad you’re not angry at me for lying.”
“Like you said, it wasn’t malicious.” Orlando walked over and took Viggo’s hands. He wove Viggo’s arms around his own waist, pressing his body against Viggo’s. “You said something about showing me your bedroom.”
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