ficlet 1 (geek!Orlando/Viggo, PG)
untitled Geek!Orlando ficlet for dpitman's birthday. first posted at Adult Viggo.
author: stormatdusk
pairing: V/O
rating: pg
disclaimer: this is fiction.
warnings: none
Parking in Mr. Mortensen's driveway - Viggo, darn it; he'd asked Orlando to call him Viggo - Orlando sat for a second, trying to calm his nerves before going to the door. Viggo was so… handsome. And his deep, soft monotone made Orlando's palms sweat. Well, more than usual. He took a few relaxing breaths, then conducted his company's Big Three P's for Success™.
Pocket protector. Check. He brushed an imaginary crumb off the "ORLADNO" stitched in red on his breast pocket.
Paperwork. Check. He was at the right address and had already glanced over the client's history of purchases and repair issues.
Project confidence and positive energy. This step was always a stretch. He pasted on a smile and wildly pumped a fist in the air, smacking the steering wheel. He bandaged up the small cut, making a mental note that the first aid supplies in the pocket protector were dangerously low.
Okay, time to go. He walked up the sidewalk and rang the bell.
Viggo opened the door, muscled chest bare, ratty jeans slung low on his hips. He smelled of toast. Orlando blinked.
He loved toast.
The sight of the man was almost enough that Orlando needed to open the very top button of his shirt.
Thumb jamming up the taped bridge of his thick glasses in nervous habit, the technician spoke softly. "Having problems again, Mr. Morte - Vigg - Mr. Viggo? I thought we got everything worked out yesterday…."
"Not quite everything, Orlando," Viggo rumbled. "Please come in. I'm afraid you might be here a while; there's a lot I need your help with." Orlando shivered under the man's blue gaze. He felt startlingly, but not at all unpleasantly, like he was a brand new HP ProLiant BL460c server featuring Dual-Care Intel® Xeon© Processors, in a room full of - well, guys like Orlando.
He squeezed through the gap between the door frame and Viggo's chest, and the door closed behind them.
ETA: continued here
author: stormatdusk
pairing: V/O
rating: pg
disclaimer: this is fiction.
warnings: none
Parking in Mr. Mortensen's driveway - Viggo, darn it; he'd asked Orlando to call him Viggo - Orlando sat for a second, trying to calm his nerves before going to the door. Viggo was so… handsome. And his deep, soft monotone made Orlando's palms sweat. Well, more than usual. He took a few relaxing breaths, then conducted his company's Big Three P's for Success™.
Pocket protector. Check. He brushed an imaginary crumb off the "ORLADNO" stitched in red on his breast pocket.
Paperwork. Check. He was at the right address and had already glanced over the client's history of purchases and repair issues.
Project confidence and positive energy. This step was always a stretch. He pasted on a smile and wildly pumped a fist in the air, smacking the steering wheel. He bandaged up the small cut, making a mental note that the first aid supplies in the pocket protector were dangerously low.
Okay, time to go. He walked up the sidewalk and rang the bell.
Viggo opened the door, muscled chest bare, ratty jeans slung low on his hips. He smelled of toast. Orlando blinked.
He loved toast.
The sight of the man was almost enough that Orlando needed to open the very top button of his shirt.
Thumb jamming up the taped bridge of his thick glasses in nervous habit, the technician spoke softly. "Having problems again, Mr. Morte - Vigg - Mr. Viggo? I thought we got everything worked out yesterday…."
"Not quite everything, Orlando," Viggo rumbled. "Please come in. I'm afraid you might be here a while; there's a lot I need your help with." Orlando shivered under the man's blue gaze. He felt startlingly, but not at all unpleasantly, like he was a brand new HP ProLiant BL460c server featuring Dual-Care Intel® Xeon© Processors, in a room full of - well, guys like Orlando.
He squeezed through the gap between the door frame and Viggo's chest, and the door closed behind them.
ETA: continued here