ficlet 7 (geek!Orlando/Viggo, adult)
author: stormatdusk
pairing: Viggo/Orlando
rating: adult
warnings: m/m sex; otherwise, none
disclaimer: this is only fiction.
a/n: starts here
picks up directly from part 6
a/n2: this part is dedicated to rocketbalm, because i love her attitude and i hope to give her a smile.
a/n3: look what puterpatty found: TOAST!!!
*laughs till it's not fun any more*
Friday night. Not Laundry Night this week. Nope, this week, Friday Night was Date Night.
Date With Viggo Night.
Oh god.
He was ready two hours early. He took a shower, got out a fresh shirt, put on extra Speed Stick. Then the nerves kicked in, again, and he paced and got sweaty and had to take another shower and put on another fresh shirt. With extra, extra Speed Stick. Then it was finally time for the short drive to the restaurant.
Orlando parked around the corner and walked toward the little Italian cafe Viggo had suggested. He could see Viggo standing in front. Viggo was wearing jeans and a brown jacket that was the same chocolatey color of the pet ferret he’d had in junior high. Orlando wished for the hundredth time that Tribbles had never climbed into that dryer….
Come to think of it, Orlando wasn’t sure if he had ever seen Viggo in a shirt before.
He looked really good.
Viggo looked so good that Orlando even forgot to be nervous for a minute. Instead, his heart pounded in a different kind of way, not like usual. And he felt… eager, almost, to just get there, to be closer to Viggo. Weird.
Nice, though.
Viggo smiled when Orlando walked up. That was nice, too.
“Hi,” Viggo said. His glance flickered down and back up. “Did you come straight from work?”
Oh god, that’s right. Talking was pretty much required on a date. Orlando’s nerves flared again.
“No, I got off earlier - - um - - early, today. Why?” Orlando asked uncertainly, thumbing up the bridge of his glasses.
Viggo’s finger lightly traced the red “ORLADNO” on Orlando’s pocket. “No reason,” he smiled, doing that crinkly-eye thing, too.
Orlando’s breath hitched a little at the barely-there touch on his work shirt. “They spelled it wrong,” his voice came out in a whisper. “My name, I mean.”
“Yeah,” Viggo whispered back. They stood like that for a moment. Viggo dropped his hand and straightened. Orlando took a shaky breath.
“Ready to get a table?” Viggo asked.
Orlando nodded.
They were seated in a booth and a server appeared. Viggo ordered a glass of wine.
“Do you have A&W Cream Soda?” Orlando asked hopefully.
The server shook his head.
“Ginger ale?” Orlando tried again.
The server nodded and left.
Orlando shrugged. “I love Cream Soda, but it’s not the most popular thing out there.”
“The best things often aren’t,” Viggo murmured.
Orlando blinked.
There was a pause. Strangely, sitting there in silence together wasn’t nearly as terrifying as Orlando had thought it would be.
Huh.
After a pause, Viggo’s voice came gently. “Did Elijah come to my house yesterday because you were uncomfortable?
“Um - - uh… no! The store’s just been really busy with people calling with problems with Vista, and…....” Orlando stared at Viggo’s nipples. It was so not fair that he could never look people in the eye when he was fibbing.
Oh god. He was staring at Viggo’s nipples!
“I wouldn’t blame you if you were uncomfortable,” Viggo continued, thankfully, as if he was unaware of the nipple-staring.
Orlando looked up gratefully. “I guess… I guess I was embarrassed, yeah. I’m really sorry that I… that you….”
Viggo covered Orlando’s hand with his own warm one. “I want to apologize again. I came on too strong. I’m just glad you agreed to come to dinner with me.”
Orlando just sat there, mouth agape.
“So tell me how you came to work at the store. Have you always been into computers?” Viggo steered the conversation to lighter topics.
Orlando said there wasn’t that much to tell. Yeah, he’d always loved computers, ever since he got his first Commodore 64 when he was 13. It just came naturally to him. And he really liked helping people understand their systems and get more out of them… even though it was hard talking sometimes. To people. Because of being shy.
“It’s obvious that you really enjoy what you do,” Viggo encouraged.
“Yeah. I guess I do,” Orlando said, almost as if it was just occurring to him. The realization made him smile.
Viggo sat back in the booth. “Wow,” he exhaled.
“What?” Orlando asked.
Viggo looked at him in silence for a moment. “I’ve never seen you smile before. It’s…” Viggo shook his head a little. “…wow.”
Orlando eyes got big. He looked down at his lap, cheeks burning. And smiled again.
Wow.
Dinner went well. Maybe a little bit awkward here and there, but pretty much, it went well. Really well, even. Orlando was sort of shocked as he moved to leave the restaurant with Viggo, to look back and see that yeah, it had gone well. Really well, even!
Viggo was so nice. And he asked Orlando about himself. And then listened to Orlando talk. And he seemed interested. Orlando had talked more tonight that he usually did in a week. And he’d enjoyed it!
And Viggo had talked, too. He’d told Orlando that he was a painter, and a writer. And despite the fact that Orlando had no clue about any of that stuff, he’d found himself hanging on Viggo’s every word as he told him how his art was his livelihood, but it was also his life. Orlando had been amazed to find himself asking Viggo a question or two, and even more amazed that Viggo seemed to think the questions were good ones.
Just, wow.
Then they were standing outside the restaurant, Viggo having paid for dinner despite Orlando’s offer to go Dutch, saying that Orlando could pay next time.
Next time?
Um. Wow.
Orlando stood there, his hands shoved in his pants pockets, having no clue what to do or say. Viggo was standing close, just looking at him.
Gosh, Viggo’s eyes were pretty. Even in the dark, they were all sparkly blue and gray. Orlando could smell the material of Viggo’s jacket - leather, he supposed, like the more expensive laptop bags at the store - and the garlic wafting out of the restaurant. And toast. Which now, he knew, must be just Viggo. Oh god.
“Can I walk you home?” Viggo’s voice was very low.
“Oh… um… I parked just around the corner,” Orlando stammered. Viggo’s eyes didn’t drop their gaze. Orlando couldn’t look away.
Viggo gently encouraged Orlando’s hand from its hiding place in his pocket. He moved his thumb in a soft back-and-forth caress on the back of Orlando’s knuckles.
“I’m very attracted to you,” Viggo rasped.
He lifted Orlando’s hand, unfolding Orlando’s fingers and pressing his mouth to Orlando’s palm for a few lush seconds. His eyes never wavered from Orlando’s wide-eyed gaze.
“Me?” Orlando croaked, mesmerized. He felt like a little rabbit, hypnotized by Viggo the Cobra, like on that one special he watched on the Discovery Channel last weekend with Elijah. Okay, yeah, he learned that snakes don’t really hypnotize their prey, so that was just a myth. But if Viggo suddenly zapped out his tongue and started sniffing the air like snakes did, Orlando was going to freak.
No tongue though, snake or otherwise. Just warm, soft lips soft on Orlando’s sensitive palm, causing little shooting stars to bounce around inside him like the bumper cars at the fair.
“Mm-hmm. You.” Viggo lowered Orlando’s hand, but still held it in both of his own.
Orlando was breathless. His glasses slipped down on his nose, and he didn’t even care.
“I promised myself that I would behave like a gentleman tonight,” Viggo said, so very quietly. “I don’t want to scare you away. But you need to know that I very much want to see you again. Is that alright?”
“Yeah,” Orlando the Hypnotized Bunny managed to whisper.
They exchanged phone numbers. Orlando would have Viggo’s number at the store, but Viggo gave it to him again, saying he wanted him to have it for himself, not just for work.
They went their separate ways then.
Orlando drove? flew? transported? home. He couldn’t have said what route he took or how he got there. His head was spinning. He walked into his house and realized vaguely that he could still get a start on the laundry.
But no, he didn’t want to do the laundry.
He wanted to be with Viggo. He wanted to smell him. He wanted to touch him, and kiss him. And he wanted for Viggo to touch him and kiss him back.
He wanted to know what was ahead, even if it was scary and unknown.
He wanted to….
He picked up the phone and dialed the number with a shaking hand. Viggo’s smooth tones answered. “Hello?”
“Um. Hi,” Orlando managed. “It’s me. Orlando.”
“Hello, Orlando,” Viggo’s voice made Orlando’s cock stand up and beg.
“I - - I want - - ,” he scratched out.
Viggo’s breath rushed out. “How fast can you get here?”
Orlando thumbed up his glasses, and grabbed his keys.
ETA: continued here
pairing: Viggo/Orlando
rating: adult
warnings: m/m sex; otherwise, none
disclaimer: this is only fiction.
a/n: starts here
picks up directly from part 6
a/n2: this part is dedicated to rocketbalm, because i love her attitude and i hope to give her a smile.
a/n3: look what puterpatty found: TOAST!!!
*laughs till it's not fun any more*
Friday night. Not Laundry Night this week. Nope, this week, Friday Night was Date Night.
Date With Viggo Night.
Oh god.
He was ready two hours early. He took a shower, got out a fresh shirt, put on extra Speed Stick. Then the nerves kicked in, again, and he paced and got sweaty and had to take another shower and put on another fresh shirt. With extra, extra Speed Stick. Then it was finally time for the short drive to the restaurant.
Orlando parked around the corner and walked toward the little Italian cafe Viggo had suggested. He could see Viggo standing in front. Viggo was wearing jeans and a brown jacket that was the same chocolatey color of the pet ferret he’d had in junior high. Orlando wished for the hundredth time that Tribbles had never climbed into that dryer….
Come to think of it, Orlando wasn’t sure if he had ever seen Viggo in a shirt before.
He looked really good.
Viggo looked so good that Orlando even forgot to be nervous for a minute. Instead, his heart pounded in a different kind of way, not like usual. And he felt… eager, almost, to just get there, to be closer to Viggo. Weird.
Nice, though.
Viggo smiled when Orlando walked up. That was nice, too.
“Hi,” Viggo said. His glance flickered down and back up. “Did you come straight from work?”
Oh god, that’s right. Talking was pretty much required on a date. Orlando’s nerves flared again.
“No, I got off earlier - - um - - early, today. Why?” Orlando asked uncertainly, thumbing up the bridge of his glasses.
Viggo’s finger lightly traced the red “ORLADNO” on Orlando’s pocket. “No reason,” he smiled, doing that crinkly-eye thing, too.
Orlando’s breath hitched a little at the barely-there touch on his work shirt. “They spelled it wrong,” his voice came out in a whisper. “My name, I mean.”
“Yeah,” Viggo whispered back. They stood like that for a moment. Viggo dropped his hand and straightened. Orlando took a shaky breath.
“Ready to get a table?” Viggo asked.
Orlando nodded.
They were seated in a booth and a server appeared. Viggo ordered a glass of wine.
“Do you have A&W Cream Soda?” Orlando asked hopefully.
The server shook his head.
“Ginger ale?” Orlando tried again.
The server nodded and left.
Orlando shrugged. “I love Cream Soda, but it’s not the most popular thing out there.”
“The best things often aren’t,” Viggo murmured.
Orlando blinked.
There was a pause. Strangely, sitting there in silence together wasn’t nearly as terrifying as Orlando had thought it would be.
Huh.
After a pause, Viggo’s voice came gently. “Did Elijah come to my house yesterday because you were uncomfortable?
“Um - - uh… no! The store’s just been really busy with people calling with problems with Vista, and…....” Orlando stared at Viggo’s nipples. It was so not fair that he could never look people in the eye when he was fibbing.
Oh god. He was staring at Viggo’s nipples!
“I wouldn’t blame you if you were uncomfortable,” Viggo continued, thankfully, as if he was unaware of the nipple-staring.
Orlando looked up gratefully. “I guess… I guess I was embarrassed, yeah. I’m really sorry that I… that you….”
Viggo covered Orlando’s hand with his own warm one. “I want to apologize again. I came on too strong. I’m just glad you agreed to come to dinner with me.”
Orlando just sat there, mouth agape.
“So tell me how you came to work at the store. Have you always been into computers?” Viggo steered the conversation to lighter topics.
Orlando said there wasn’t that much to tell. Yeah, he’d always loved computers, ever since he got his first Commodore 64 when he was 13. It just came naturally to him. And he really liked helping people understand their systems and get more out of them… even though it was hard talking sometimes. To people. Because of being shy.
“It’s obvious that you really enjoy what you do,” Viggo encouraged.
“Yeah. I guess I do,” Orlando said, almost as if it was just occurring to him. The realization made him smile.
Viggo sat back in the booth. “Wow,” he exhaled.
“What?” Orlando asked.
Viggo looked at him in silence for a moment. “I’ve never seen you smile before. It’s…” Viggo shook his head a little. “…wow.”
Orlando eyes got big. He looked down at his lap, cheeks burning. And smiled again.
Wow.
Dinner went well. Maybe a little bit awkward here and there, but pretty much, it went well. Really well, even. Orlando was sort of shocked as he moved to leave the restaurant with Viggo, to look back and see that yeah, it had gone well. Really well, even!
Viggo was so nice. And he asked Orlando about himself. And then listened to Orlando talk. And he seemed interested. Orlando had talked more tonight that he usually did in a week. And he’d enjoyed it!
And Viggo had talked, too. He’d told Orlando that he was a painter, and a writer. And despite the fact that Orlando had no clue about any of that stuff, he’d found himself hanging on Viggo’s every word as he told him how his art was his livelihood, but it was also his life. Orlando had been amazed to find himself asking Viggo a question or two, and even more amazed that Viggo seemed to think the questions were good ones.
Just, wow.
Then they were standing outside the restaurant, Viggo having paid for dinner despite Orlando’s offer to go Dutch, saying that Orlando could pay next time.
Next time?
Um. Wow.
Orlando stood there, his hands shoved in his pants pockets, having no clue what to do or say. Viggo was standing close, just looking at him.
Gosh, Viggo’s eyes were pretty. Even in the dark, they were all sparkly blue and gray. Orlando could smell the material of Viggo’s jacket - leather, he supposed, like the more expensive laptop bags at the store - and the garlic wafting out of the restaurant. And toast. Which now, he knew, must be just Viggo. Oh god.
“Can I walk you home?” Viggo’s voice was very low.
“Oh… um… I parked just around the corner,” Orlando stammered. Viggo’s eyes didn’t drop their gaze. Orlando couldn’t look away.
Viggo gently encouraged Orlando’s hand from its hiding place in his pocket. He moved his thumb in a soft back-and-forth caress on the back of Orlando’s knuckles.
“I’m very attracted to you,” Viggo rasped.
He lifted Orlando’s hand, unfolding Orlando’s fingers and pressing his mouth to Orlando’s palm for a few lush seconds. His eyes never wavered from Orlando’s wide-eyed gaze.
“Me?” Orlando croaked, mesmerized. He felt like a little rabbit, hypnotized by Viggo the Cobra, like on that one special he watched on the Discovery Channel last weekend with Elijah. Okay, yeah, he learned that snakes don’t really hypnotize their prey, so that was just a myth. But if Viggo suddenly zapped out his tongue and started sniffing the air like snakes did, Orlando was going to freak.
No tongue though, snake or otherwise. Just warm, soft lips soft on Orlando’s sensitive palm, causing little shooting stars to bounce around inside him like the bumper cars at the fair.
“Mm-hmm. You.” Viggo lowered Orlando’s hand, but still held it in both of his own.
Orlando was breathless. His glasses slipped down on his nose, and he didn’t even care.
“I promised myself that I would behave like a gentleman tonight,” Viggo said, so very quietly. “I don’t want to scare you away. But you need to know that I very much want to see you again. Is that alright?”
“Yeah,” Orlando the Hypnotized Bunny managed to whisper.
They exchanged phone numbers. Orlando would have Viggo’s number at the store, but Viggo gave it to him again, saying he wanted him to have it for himself, not just for work.
They went their separate ways then.
Orlando drove? flew? transported? home. He couldn’t have said what route he took or how he got there. His head was spinning. He walked into his house and realized vaguely that he could still get a start on the laundry.
But no, he didn’t want to do the laundry.
He wanted to be with Viggo. He wanted to smell him. He wanted to touch him, and kiss him. And he wanted for Viggo to touch him and kiss him back.
He wanted to know what was ahead, even if it was scary and unknown.
He wanted to….
He picked up the phone and dialed the number with a shaking hand. Viggo’s smooth tones answered. “Hello?”
“Um. Hi,” Orlando managed. “It’s me. Orlando.”
“Hello, Orlando,” Viggo’s voice made Orlando’s cock stand up and beg.
“I - - I want - - ,” he scratched out.
Viggo’s breath rushed out. “How fast can you get here?”
Orlando thumbed up his glasses, and grabbed his keys.
ETA: continued here