Walk On By - The Sequel, part II
Title : Walk On By - The Sequel; part 2
Author: dalehead
Pairing : Viggorli
Rating : PG right now but later it will morph into NC-17
Summary : Sometimes life happens.
Disclaimer: This is entirely made up.
Author’s Note: For gattodoro because she’s a Red.
“Right Vig, you ready?” George glanced at his watch. He was not a sentimental man. “For gawd’s sake, will you get a fucking move on, our Nick’ll look after the place for you, no need to be looking like that…”
“Right mate, we’re ready for you,” the driver poked his head round the door. “And if I get a bleedin’ ticket…”
“You won’t get a fucking ticket,” George took a deep breath and bellowed. “Vig? Move you fucking arse else I am gonna kick It..”
“No need to shout.”
“Well for fuck’s sake, will you stop bellyaching on like a fucking girl and get in the van.”
Sighing Viggo, hurried out. He wished he hadn’t been appointed van weasel but for some reason Orlando had decided he wanted to drive the majority of stuff down to Devon on his own.
“Right then…” finally it seemed they were ready for the off.
~~
”Vig,” Orlando still looked ill. “I can’t live like this anymore.”
“You don’t mean…” Viggo still defaulted to feeling like the flotsam and jetsam in Orlando’s life at times of stress, convincing himself that he wasn’t wanted in this relationship any more.
“Oh dear god, Vig, this is not about you, you gotta stop thinking every fucking thing is about you, this is about me. I can’t live like this. I’m too fucking scared to go out and about. I miss Tel, I feel guilty, I hate myself and I hate our life here. I want to move.”
“Move? What out of London?” this was something he thought they’d decided they didn’t want.
“Yeah, Paula emailed me. Dave, Tel’s cousin, remember him, he’s a Scouse bastard but he’s not a Manc so,” Orlando shrugged. “He’s started a new business near Exeter, Tel was thinking of going in with him but …” his eyes darkened and he cleared his throat. He still hadn’t cried and this worried Viggo. He knew Orlando needed to cry but he knew it was something that would happen when it happened.
“But I thought…”
“I know, babe,” Orlando’s voice was very gentle. “But we can’t … I can’t stay here. Every time I go out I imagine it’s gonna happen again, I’ve never been so scared in my fucking life. I love London and I’ll miss the footy but …” he looked out of the window. “You don’t have to come with me you know? Frank would give you a room at the pub…” he faltered and looked at Viggo.
The first thing Viggo noticed was the fear, the second thing he noticed was how thin and pale his Orlando looked. “Of course I’m coming with you, I …” he knew how much Orlando hated flannel. “I love you, I always want to be with you…”
The third thing Viggo noticed was the relief on Orlando’s face. “Okay, well we’ll go down to Devon tomorrow…” he got up and went to Viggo, wrapped his arms around him and for once let himself be held. “You know I love you too, right?”
~~
It was the first home Viggo had for years, he was sad to leave it but he knew they were doing the right thing. Orlando had been having terrible nightmares, he knew this because he was the one who changed their sheets in the middle of the night, held his lover and murmured nonsense to him until he was able to go back to sleep.
“Can’t you talk to me about it Orli?” Viggo had asked. “If you talked about it, well it might help?”
“Help?” Orlando was snarling like a caged beast. “I dream about Tel, I see him every night and then I see him getting killed over and over again, who the fuck is it going to help? That cunt of a counsellor keeps trying to talk about…” he wouldn’t say her name, Viggo knew he was referring to his best friend, the one who died, who OD-ed when he was still a teenager.
“Orlando? Talking helps, whether you want to admit it or not.”
“Bollocks, I’ve done with talking, I just want to get out of here. This place,” he gesticulated wildly. “It’s become so claustrophobic … everywhere I go I’m surrounded by ghosts…
So they had taken a trip down to Exeter, met up with Dave who was a good lad, despite his supporting Liverpool but as he and Orlando were united in their hatred of Man U, it was all going to work out just fine. They had a similar sense of humour and Dave’s best mate was gay, so there was no having to hide from him.
Finding somewhere to live was a bit more problematic but eventually they found a little house on the outskirts of a village about eight miles from Exeter. It was a one bedroomed cottage and the rent was dirt cheap, mainly because there was no central heating and no storage space but to Orlando and Viggo it was huge.
“We’re not gonna have enough furniture to fill this place,” the guy from the estate agents blinked as he listened to Orlando and Viggo.
“The bathroom’s a good size though,” Viggo looked round. “Can we do anything to the place?”
“You can paint but nothing too extreme,” the guy glanced at his watch.
“Okay then,” Orlando looked round. “It’s got no heating, no storage space, the garden’s a mess, there’s not enough room in the bedroom for Viggo to swing from the rafters, so let’s negotiate. If you think I’m paying a monkey every month…”
The guy wasn’t especially surprised. This house had been on the market for months and was taking ages to let. He had been authorised to lower to rent to £300 per calendar month.
“And I’m not fucking well paying council tax and water rates on top of that,” Orlando added. “It’s gonna cost an arm and a leg to keep warm.”
The deal was done and they had themselves somewhere to live.
~~
“You alright son?” George was worried about Viggo.
“Yeah … just thinking about Paula and the kids…”
George sighed. “She’s better off in Braintree with her mum. I spoke to her last night. She sent her love.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, she said she’d bring the kids down for your birthday … if you want.”
“Has she forgiven us?”
“Don’t be such a soft cunt. She was upset for fuck’s sake, her husband had just been viciously murdered. What were you expecting?”
“I know … but…”
“No Vig, no buts. Just ‘cos she lashed out, doesn’t mean she don’t still care about you two, I mean …” George lit a cigarette and opened the window. “Have you called her?”
“No.”
“Well then, fucking muppet. Now … this is the M4 Vig, we’ll be stopping for a fry up in about an hour…” he patted Viggo’s knee and opened his window.
Sitting back Viggo realised that he was going to be one big ache by the time they stopped. As van weasel he had the least amount of room and his legs were practically under his chin. His mobile begun to vibrate, there was a message.
Hey babe. Arrived. Dave helping unpack. See u soon. ILU. x
Viggo smiled and let a glimmer of hope lighten his mood.
Author: dalehead
Pairing : Viggorli
Rating : PG right now but later it will morph into NC-17
Summary : Sometimes life happens.
Disclaimer: This is entirely made up.
Author’s Note: For gattodoro because she’s a Red.
“Right Vig, you ready?” George glanced at his watch. He was not a sentimental man. “For gawd’s sake, will you get a fucking move on, our Nick’ll look after the place for you, no need to be looking like that…”
“Right mate, we’re ready for you,” the driver poked his head round the door. “And if I get a bleedin’ ticket…”
“You won’t get a fucking ticket,” George took a deep breath and bellowed. “Vig? Move you fucking arse else I am gonna kick It..”
“No need to shout.”
“Well for fuck’s sake, will you stop bellyaching on like a fucking girl and get in the van.”
Sighing Viggo, hurried out. He wished he hadn’t been appointed van weasel but for some reason Orlando had decided he wanted to drive the majority of stuff down to Devon on his own.
“Right then…” finally it seemed they were ready for the off.
~~
”Vig,” Orlando still looked ill. “I can’t live like this anymore.”
“You don’t mean…” Viggo still defaulted to feeling like the flotsam and jetsam in Orlando’s life at times of stress, convincing himself that he wasn’t wanted in this relationship any more.
“Oh dear god, Vig, this is not about you, you gotta stop thinking every fucking thing is about you, this is about me. I can’t live like this. I’m too fucking scared to go out and about. I miss Tel, I feel guilty, I hate myself and I hate our life here. I want to move.”
“Move? What out of London?” this was something he thought they’d decided they didn’t want.
“Yeah, Paula emailed me. Dave, Tel’s cousin, remember him, he’s a Scouse bastard but he’s not a Manc so,” Orlando shrugged. “He’s started a new business near Exeter, Tel was thinking of going in with him but …” his eyes darkened and he cleared his throat. He still hadn’t cried and this worried Viggo. He knew Orlando needed to cry but he knew it was something that would happen when it happened.
“But I thought…”
“I know, babe,” Orlando’s voice was very gentle. “But we can’t … I can’t stay here. Every time I go out I imagine it’s gonna happen again, I’ve never been so scared in my fucking life. I love London and I’ll miss the footy but …” he looked out of the window. “You don’t have to come with me you know? Frank would give you a room at the pub…” he faltered and looked at Viggo.
The first thing Viggo noticed was the fear, the second thing he noticed was how thin and pale his Orlando looked. “Of course I’m coming with you, I …” he knew how much Orlando hated flannel. “I love you, I always want to be with you…”
The third thing Viggo noticed was the relief on Orlando’s face. “Okay, well we’ll go down to Devon tomorrow…” he got up and went to Viggo, wrapped his arms around him and for once let himself be held. “You know I love you too, right?”
~~
It was the first home Viggo had for years, he was sad to leave it but he knew they were doing the right thing. Orlando had been having terrible nightmares, he knew this because he was the one who changed their sheets in the middle of the night, held his lover and murmured nonsense to him until he was able to go back to sleep.
“Can’t you talk to me about it Orli?” Viggo had asked. “If you talked about it, well it might help?”
“Help?” Orlando was snarling like a caged beast. “I dream about Tel, I see him every night and then I see him getting killed over and over again, who the fuck is it going to help? That cunt of a counsellor keeps trying to talk about…” he wouldn’t say her name, Viggo knew he was referring to his best friend, the one who died, who OD-ed when he was still a teenager.
“Orlando? Talking helps, whether you want to admit it or not.”
“Bollocks, I’ve done with talking, I just want to get out of here. This place,” he gesticulated wildly. “It’s become so claustrophobic … everywhere I go I’m surrounded by ghosts…
So they had taken a trip down to Exeter, met up with Dave who was a good lad, despite his supporting Liverpool but as he and Orlando were united in their hatred of Man U, it was all going to work out just fine. They had a similar sense of humour and Dave’s best mate was gay, so there was no having to hide from him.
Finding somewhere to live was a bit more problematic but eventually they found a little house on the outskirts of a village about eight miles from Exeter. It was a one bedroomed cottage and the rent was dirt cheap, mainly because there was no central heating and no storage space but to Orlando and Viggo it was huge.
“We’re not gonna have enough furniture to fill this place,” the guy from the estate agents blinked as he listened to Orlando and Viggo.
“The bathroom’s a good size though,” Viggo looked round. “Can we do anything to the place?”
“You can paint but nothing too extreme,” the guy glanced at his watch.
“Okay then,” Orlando looked round. “It’s got no heating, no storage space, the garden’s a mess, there’s not enough room in the bedroom for Viggo to swing from the rafters, so let’s negotiate. If you think I’m paying a monkey every month…”
The guy wasn’t especially surprised. This house had been on the market for months and was taking ages to let. He had been authorised to lower to rent to £300 per calendar month.
“And I’m not fucking well paying council tax and water rates on top of that,” Orlando added. “It’s gonna cost an arm and a leg to keep warm.”
The deal was done and they had themselves somewhere to live.
~~
“You alright son?” George was worried about Viggo.
“Yeah … just thinking about Paula and the kids…”
George sighed. “She’s better off in Braintree with her mum. I spoke to her last night. She sent her love.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, she said she’d bring the kids down for your birthday … if you want.”
“Has she forgiven us?”
“Don’t be such a soft cunt. She was upset for fuck’s sake, her husband had just been viciously murdered. What were you expecting?”
“I know … but…”
“No Vig, no buts. Just ‘cos she lashed out, doesn’t mean she don’t still care about you two, I mean …” George lit a cigarette and opened the window. “Have you called her?”
“No.”
“Well then, fucking muppet. Now … this is the M4 Vig, we’ll be stopping for a fry up in about an hour…” he patted Viggo’s knee and opened his window.
Sitting back Viggo realised that he was going to be one big ache by the time they stopped. As van weasel he had the least amount of room and his legs were practically under his chin. His mobile begun to vibrate, there was a message.
Hey babe. Arrived. Dave helping unpack. See u soon. ILU. x
Viggo smiled and let a glimmer of hope lighten his mood.