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fellowshippers2003-12-29 11:22 am
peace-song.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2003-12-29 11:22 am
Idolized
Title:Idolized
Author: Heather
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: Mature-ish. Adult if you will.
Disclaimer: Not bloody likely.
Warnings: Um, It's AU...But other than that...
Author’s note: Like I said, AU. I can't recall were I got it from. I think it stands alone, I might write a sequel, who knows.
Orlando scuffled into the smokey bar, a regular haunt for the young man. Sometimes he just fooled around; went home with a guy, maybe. But usually, when he was lonely, lonely like he was now, he only went with one man.
Orlando’s first employer was one hell of a guy. American, yes, “We can’t all be perfect,” Orlando would tease him with that one. Mr. Mortensen would laugh, pat Orlando on the back, and tell him to get back to work. Orlando really didn’t care that he was older that him, “Age is relative, Old Man.” He loved the man. He idolized the old man, looked up to him, a role model. He was tall, roguish good looks, and blonde hair, that in the right light, seemed red, then gold.
That was the only picture he held in mind when he was with one of these men. Emblazoned in his mind, and the only vision behind his eyes when he was enveloped in ecstasy.
It was all short-lived. Orlando’s mother made him quit after Mr. Mortensen got a woman pregnant, she claimed it set a bad example for her son. All she cared about was what was good for her son. She had heard him. Late at night after coming home, the name on his lips when he did it. It was for the best, she assumed. Mr. Mortensen never touched Orlando, but his Mother never knew. Orlando always wanted it to be different. Soon, too soon, he found out. Mr. Mortensen, wife, and child were back in the States. Nobody’s perfect.
He stooped in the corner to keep the wind out of his lighter. This place was drafty, no doubt about it. He shrugged off his coat, hung it up in his personal hook. (The gal behind the bar gave him a nameplate for Christmas last year as a joke.) At the bar, he chatted with a few cute boys, too young to take home. Orlando was lonely tonight. He needed an older gent to live his fantasy with. He ditched the pretty boys to scan the room for someone to fit his needs. They’ll probably find a nice place to shag, he thought, they make a nice match.
Then he saw him. Sitting alone, having one of those “American” beers. If that’s what you can it, a beer. That would make Mr. Mortensen laugh. Orlando would love to hear him laugh again. Orlando stared until he caught the man’s attention. He locked eyes with Orlando, then licked lips in such a way that Orlando was instantly hard.
Orlando got up and stalked over to the man’s table, swinging his hips ever so slightly. He perched himself gracefully on the man’s lap and placed his lips on the other man’s. The man took what was given him, plunging his tongue into the pliant mouth of the younger man who laid himself out for him.
“Name you price, kid.”
“Name your pleasure, old man,” Orlando nuzzled the man’s throat while he decided.
“That’s tough, kid. I don’t even know your name yet. I’m . . . ” Orlando silenced him with a finger to his lips, “No names.”
“Okay then. You. Outside. Now. What’s your price?”
“For you, love? I’ll make you one hell of a deal,” Orlando stood, and grasped the man’s necktie, stroking it, promising illicit acts. The man stood and followed Orlando outside. He watched the younger man swish around a corner.
Orlando waited knowing that the older man would follow, but he was caught unawares by him, grinding him up against the wall. Orlando knew when to match his force, then draw back, twisting his groin alongside the older man’s erection. Orlando matched the man’s moans, and snaked his arms around his torso, pulling his sweaty shirt off. The man started to nip and tease Orlando’s skin, worshiping him like a foreign idol.
Urgency flooded their veins, the man started grappling with Orlando’s zipper, dropping the young man’s jeans, finding nothing underneath. Kinky Brits. He gave Orlando his hand, and the boy licked, lapped, and sucked until they were slick and he urged the man to get it done. The man wondered if the boy went down. I bet he’s a pro. Hmm, maybe later . . .
The man prepared his new young lover slowly, drawing out moans and leaving him gasping every time he hit the boy’s sweet spot, “Now . . . please, V– . . . Please.” Orlando was losing his control. He was losing his ability to keep it in.
The man rid himself of some offending pieces of clothing before pushing into the lush, young thing he was holding up against the wall. The brick scraping against the unmarred, silky back he envisioned. Orlando cried out, then wrapped his legs around the heavenly waist of the older man filling him. He increased their pace. The old man keeps up nicely. I might have to keep him.
Soon the pair felt the tug of release pulling on their reins, and with a final glide upwards, the man went over the edge, bringing his young lover to cry out, “Viggo!”
Orlando slumped over the shoulder of the older man, curling like a kitten into the crook of his neck.
“How’d you know?”
“Know what, Love?”
“My name. ”
Author: Heather
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: Mature-ish. Adult if you will.
Disclaimer: Not bloody likely.
Warnings: Um, It's AU...But other than that...
Author’s note: Like I said, AU. I can't recall were I got it from. I think it stands alone, I might write a sequel, who knows.
Orlando scuffled into the smokey bar, a regular haunt for the young man. Sometimes he just fooled around; went home with a guy, maybe. But usually, when he was lonely, lonely like he was now, he only went with one man.
Orlando’s first employer was one hell of a guy. American, yes, “We can’t all be perfect,” Orlando would tease him with that one. Mr. Mortensen would laugh, pat Orlando on the back, and tell him to get back to work. Orlando really didn’t care that he was older that him, “Age is relative, Old Man.” He loved the man. He idolized the old man, looked up to him, a role model. He was tall, roguish good looks, and blonde hair, that in the right light, seemed red, then gold.
That was the only picture he held in mind when he was with one of these men. Emblazoned in his mind, and the only vision behind his eyes when he was enveloped in ecstasy.
It was all short-lived. Orlando’s mother made him quit after Mr. Mortensen got a woman pregnant, she claimed it set a bad example for her son. All she cared about was what was good for her son. She had heard him. Late at night after coming home, the name on his lips when he did it. It was for the best, she assumed. Mr. Mortensen never touched Orlando, but his Mother never knew. Orlando always wanted it to be different. Soon, too soon, he found out. Mr. Mortensen, wife, and child were back in the States. Nobody’s perfect.
He stooped in the corner to keep the wind out of his lighter. This place was drafty, no doubt about it. He shrugged off his coat, hung it up in his personal hook. (The gal behind the bar gave him a nameplate for Christmas last year as a joke.) At the bar, he chatted with a few cute boys, too young to take home. Orlando was lonely tonight. He needed an older gent to live his fantasy with. He ditched the pretty boys to scan the room for someone to fit his needs. They’ll probably find a nice place to shag, he thought, they make a nice match.
Then he saw him. Sitting alone, having one of those “American” beers. If that’s what you can it, a beer. That would make Mr. Mortensen laugh. Orlando would love to hear him laugh again. Orlando stared until he caught the man’s attention. He locked eyes with Orlando, then licked lips in such a way that Orlando was instantly hard.
Orlando got up and stalked over to the man’s table, swinging his hips ever so slightly. He perched himself gracefully on the man’s lap and placed his lips on the other man’s. The man took what was given him, plunging his tongue into the pliant mouth of the younger man who laid himself out for him.
“Name you price, kid.”
“Name your pleasure, old man,” Orlando nuzzled the man’s throat while he decided.
“That’s tough, kid. I don’t even know your name yet. I’m . . . ” Orlando silenced him with a finger to his lips, “No names.”
“Okay then. You. Outside. Now. What’s your price?”
“For you, love? I’ll make you one hell of a deal,” Orlando stood, and grasped the man’s necktie, stroking it, promising illicit acts. The man stood and followed Orlando outside. He watched the younger man swish around a corner.
Orlando waited knowing that the older man would follow, but he was caught unawares by him, grinding him up against the wall. Orlando knew when to match his force, then draw back, twisting his groin alongside the older man’s erection. Orlando matched the man’s moans, and snaked his arms around his torso, pulling his sweaty shirt off. The man started to nip and tease Orlando’s skin, worshiping him like a foreign idol.
Urgency flooded their veins, the man started grappling with Orlando’s zipper, dropping the young man’s jeans, finding nothing underneath. Kinky Brits. He gave Orlando his hand, and the boy licked, lapped, and sucked until they were slick and he urged the man to get it done. The man wondered if the boy went down. I bet he’s a pro. Hmm, maybe later . . .
The man prepared his new young lover slowly, drawing out moans and leaving him gasping every time he hit the boy’s sweet spot, “Now . . . please, V– . . . Please.” Orlando was losing his control. He was losing his ability to keep it in.
The man rid himself of some offending pieces of clothing before pushing into the lush, young thing he was holding up against the wall. The brick scraping against the unmarred, silky back he envisioned. Orlando cried out, then wrapped his legs around the heavenly waist of the older man filling him. He increased their pace. The old man keeps up nicely. I might have to keep him.
Soon the pair felt the tug of release pulling on their reins, and with a final glide upwards, the man went over the edge, bringing his young lover to cry out, “Viggo!”
Orlando slumped over the shoulder of the older man, curling like a kitten into the crook of his neck.
“How’d you know?”
“Know what, Love?”
“My name. ”
no subject
i think you've just written out a living fantasy. brilliant work!
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-Heather
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-Heather
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Thankies again.
-Heather
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Oooh, yummy! With the sex, and the hot, and the fantasy... Loved it - and perfectly willing to beg for more, if needs be!
Thank you!
Zoe
no subject
-Heather