Ficlet: Sweet (V/O, 1/1)
Title: Sweet
Author: laeglass
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I made it up.
A/N: Because I still love 'em. Beta'd by silvan_lady.
The number is strange, but the voice on the other end is familiar, and Orlando's suddenly quite happy that he's sitting down. How long has it been, exactly? And exactly why should he care because the years fall away with a suddenness that makes him reel.
Not that he hasn't been thinking about Viggo lately; he has.
"How's little Flynn?" Viggo asks, and Orlando is happy that Viggo should ask after him rather than Orlando.
"He's... the sweetest kid you could ever hope to meet." Woefully inadequate, but as a father to father, Orlando believes that Viggo knows what he means.
"Well, he should be. He's yours."
Orlando's eyes widen and he breathes out, his mind suddenly stalling.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you --"
"No, no, it's not that," in a hurry to explain, "that was a lovely compliment. A lovely thing to say. Just surprised me, 's all."
"I still manage that?"
A genuine laugh this time. "You always managed that. You're crazy, I never knew what to expect from you. Except the unexpected. No-one ever calls me sweet."
Viggo laughs too, from across the ocean for all Orlando knows, but he's very near. Three years, Orlando decides suddenly. Three years since they last spoke. Not counting the postcards. Viggo might be calling him because of the latest postcard, because he was suddenly reminded of this once-green boy with stars in his eyes, now turned father.
"Now that's a shame. Perhaps people don't want to annoy you by stating the obvious."
Viggo is making fun of him, and that's alright, because that's yet another thing that no-one ever does with him, and Orlando starts to wonder if he comes across as forbidding somehow, that only Viggo can slip into this familiarity with him where others dare not venture.
"Yeah, because I get so annoyed with compliments," he says with a chuckle. "They sicken me."
"Do you get much sleep?"
He considers. Never having been a good sleeper, much less a heavy one, he sleeps more than he expected he would. He tells Viggo as much.
"He's not a cranky baby then?"
"Not at all. I thought I'd get a full night's sleep on his tenth birthday, if that, but so far it's been really good. Of course I'm not home all the time..."
It's taken him years to really understand why Viggo needed to weigh in Henry's opinion before signing up for the Rings, but he gets it now. If there was a way to ask Flynn if he could, or should, take a role that takes him halfway across the country (if he's lucky), or halfway across the world (if he's not so lucky), he would do so.
"Do you remember that time in Wellington, when we saw the two blokes with the baby, and I asked you if you thought they were a couple, or if they were just friends?" he asks, his mind casting back into that particular sunny day in 2003, when he was wearing the largest pair of sunglasses he could find just to keep people from seeing how much he was glowing, and how much it had to do with the man he was with.
Viggo is silent and Orlando knows he's thinking; Viggo never makes thinking noises, he just goes completely silent, leaving you to wonder what will come out of his mouth when he finally decides to speak.
"I remember."
"You said you thought they were friends."
"You said you thought they were a couple."
"They could have been," Orlando says, a touch defensively. "Two blokes raising that kid, you know, as equal parents, no matter what anyone says."
Viggo is silent again, and Orlando counts to ten in his head before he speaks again.
"You're right, they could have been."
He feels like he's made some kind of point, but doesn't really know what it is.
"Well, I should probably get going," he says reluctantly. "I need to leave the house in ten and still haven't decided what I'm going to wear. A meeting. You know."
"Okay, I'll let you go," Viggo says, and Orlando is suddenly, inexplicably seized with the urge to say don't.
Then the urge passes, and they say goodbye.
Until next time.
finis
Author: laeglass
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I made it up.
A/N: Because I still love 'em. Beta'd by silvan_lady.
The number is strange, but the voice on the other end is familiar, and Orlando's suddenly quite happy that he's sitting down. How long has it been, exactly? And exactly why should he care because the years fall away with a suddenness that makes him reel.
Not that he hasn't been thinking about Viggo lately; he has.
"How's little Flynn?" Viggo asks, and Orlando is happy that Viggo should ask after him rather than Orlando.
"He's... the sweetest kid you could ever hope to meet." Woefully inadequate, but as a father to father, Orlando believes that Viggo knows what he means.
"Well, he should be. He's yours."
Orlando's eyes widen and he breathes out, his mind suddenly stalling.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you --"
"No, no, it's not that," in a hurry to explain, "that was a lovely compliment. A lovely thing to say. Just surprised me, 's all."
"I still manage that?"
A genuine laugh this time. "You always managed that. You're crazy, I never knew what to expect from you. Except the unexpected. No-one ever calls me sweet."
Viggo laughs too, from across the ocean for all Orlando knows, but he's very near. Three years, Orlando decides suddenly. Three years since they last spoke. Not counting the postcards. Viggo might be calling him because of the latest postcard, because he was suddenly reminded of this once-green boy with stars in his eyes, now turned father.
"Now that's a shame. Perhaps people don't want to annoy you by stating the obvious."
Viggo is making fun of him, and that's alright, because that's yet another thing that no-one ever does with him, and Orlando starts to wonder if he comes across as forbidding somehow, that only Viggo can slip into this familiarity with him where others dare not venture.
"Yeah, because I get so annoyed with compliments," he says with a chuckle. "They sicken me."
"Do you get much sleep?"
He considers. Never having been a good sleeper, much less a heavy one, he sleeps more than he expected he would. He tells Viggo as much.
"He's not a cranky baby then?"
"Not at all. I thought I'd get a full night's sleep on his tenth birthday, if that, but so far it's been really good. Of course I'm not home all the time..."
It's taken him years to really understand why Viggo needed to weigh in Henry's opinion before signing up for the Rings, but he gets it now. If there was a way to ask Flynn if he could, or should, take a role that takes him halfway across the country (if he's lucky), or halfway across the world (if he's not so lucky), he would do so.
"Do you remember that time in Wellington, when we saw the two blokes with the baby, and I asked you if you thought they were a couple, or if they were just friends?" he asks, his mind casting back into that particular sunny day in 2003, when he was wearing the largest pair of sunglasses he could find just to keep people from seeing how much he was glowing, and how much it had to do with the man he was with.
Viggo is silent and Orlando knows he's thinking; Viggo never makes thinking noises, he just goes completely silent, leaving you to wonder what will come out of his mouth when he finally decides to speak.
"I remember."
"You said you thought they were friends."
"You said you thought they were a couple."
"They could have been," Orlando says, a touch defensively. "Two blokes raising that kid, you know, as equal parents, no matter what anyone says."
Viggo is silent again, and Orlando counts to ten in his head before he speaks again.
"You're right, they could have been."
He feels like he's made some kind of point, but doesn't really know what it is.
"Well, I should probably get going," he says reluctantly. "I need to leave the house in ten and still haven't decided what I'm going to wear. A meeting. You know."
"Okay, I'll let you go," Viggo says, and Orlando is suddenly, inexplicably seized with the urge to say don't.
Then the urge passes, and they say goodbye.
Until next time.
finis