Strangers Part 2
Title: Strangers On A Train (2/4)
Rating: NC17 overall
Pairing: V/O
Warnings: EXTREME sappiness and implied/ remembered rape. Not my usual style of fic AT ALL....
Beta: My beloved
momo
Beater: Teh inimitable
Kimmeh
Summary: Orlando's life takes an unexpected turn after a chance meeting.
Orlando stared around himself, feeling small and rather grubby here in the comfortable confines of Viggo’s large car. The driver, Karl, had effortlessly carried Orlando’s bag to the car, making the young man feel weak until Viggo had pointed out his own difficulties at lifting Orlando’s bag earlier on.
Viggo sat back in the sumptuous leather of the car seat, pointing out various sights of the city to Orlando, trying to reassure the lad who seemed somewhat ill at ease and uncomfortable now he saw the luxury with which Viggo surrounded himself.
Orli’s eyes widened as the car drew up to a large gate, pausing whilst Karl spoke into an intercom and then carrying on when the gate opened smoothly. It was a drive of several minutes from the gate to the main house, and it was all Orlando could do not to jump out the car and make a run for it. He was in so far over his head, he had no idea where he was and he was at the mercy of this man who had been so determined to get Orlando back to his house.
What if Viggo was not the philanthropist that he presented himself as, and he ended up a rent boy in a brothel, or a dead body, his mum’s distraught face splashed across the news papers? Quashing these thoughts, Orlando got out of the car after Viggo when it drew to a halt in front of a large house.
“Viggo! You have come home to me!” An elderly woman bustled out of the house and pulled Orlando’s saviour into her arms, kissing his cheeks and subjecting him to such a vigorous hugging that Orlando wondered that he did not turn blue from the lack of oxygen he was surely experiencing.
“Don’t I always, Mama, don’t I always?” Viggo grinned at his mother, well used to the woman’s seemingly infinite enthusiasm for the mere sight of her son. “This is Orlando, Mama, he’s gonna be staying with us for a few days.”
Viggo’s mother turned an appraising eye on Orlando, taking in his dishevelled appearance and the weariness in his eyes.
“Yes, yes, yes.” She spoke briskly, taking Orlando by the hand and leading him inside, talking to him all the time as though he were a small child. “You need a nice hot bath, don’t you, poor thing. And then we’ll tuck you into bed and get some food into you, you’re far too thin, you poor darling.” Orlando looked back over his shoulder at Viggo who shrugged helplessly and followed them inside, knowing how pointless it was to try and argue with his mother when she was on a mission.
In no time at all, Orlando found himself immersed in a large bathtub full of steaming hot water, soaking his troubles away and letting his mind wander, thinking back on the things he had seen during his time in Europe and the sights that Viggo had promised to show him the next day.
Orlando completely lost track of time as he lay dreaming in the bath. Now that his embarrassment and fear had waned somewhat, he thought back over his rescuer’s fine physique and kindly but intelligent face. Feeling his cock begin to harden at the thought of the other man’s body, Orlando reached an idle hand down to massage the organ into full hardness.
Orlando had long since accepted his sexuality. He was as gay as they come and proud of it, but still inexperienced. The previous night hadn’t been the first time he had gotten fucked, but he certainly hadn’t had many partners before and he wondered if he would ever be able to be taken again without the act rekindling memories of the abuse he had suffered the previous night. A knock on the door startled Orlando out of his reverie.
“Are you alright in there, darling?” Mrs Mortensen, who had insisted that Orlando called her Mama, called through the door to him, concerned about the amount of time her young guest had spent in the bath and the lack of noise to be heard through the door. Orlando drowning in her bath would be a rather unpleasant experience, involving policemen and awkward questions, no doubt.
“I’m fine,” Orlando called back, resigning himself to waiting until later on to finish his wank and sliding under the water for a moment to rinse the shampoo off his hair and then standing up in the tub, water sheeting from his body, and climbing out the bath. Orlando wrapped himself in one of the huge towels that had been provided for him, it proving large enough to wrap three times around Orlando’s skinny frame.
Opening the door tentatively, Orlando found Mrs Mortensen beaming at him, waiting to bustle him off to a nearby bedroom containing the largest bed Orlando had ever seen. Laid out on the bed was a pair of cotton pyjamas, the kind that Orlando hadn’t worn since he was a child.
“There now, you get dried and into bed and I’ll be up in a minute with something for you to eat.” Mrs Mortensen bustled off, leaving Orlando to towel himself off before pulling on the far too large pyjamas, holding the bottoms up by means of the drawstring fastening and then sliding under the quilt on the large bed, sitting back against the pillows and closing his eyes for a moment in sheer bliss at the exquisite comfort.
Orlando was almost asleep when he heard footsteps nearing the door of his room. Opening his eyes, he was surprised when the owner of the footsteps was not Mrs Mortensen bringing him a tray of food as she had promised to do.
“Hi,” Viggo spoke softly, as though trying not to spook a nervous animal. Orlando smiled sleepily at him, and Viggo returned his smile, slipping into the bedroom and sitting down next to Orlando on the bed. “How’re you feeling? I told you my mother would be trying to feed you up.”
“She’s something special, that’s for sure,” Orlando spoke fondly, already falling under the spell of charisma that the Mortensen family carried around them.
“Do you need to call your mum or anything? She won’t be worried about you?” Viggo asked, wondering how long Orlando had been kept a prisoner before he had been dumped on the train. Orli looked shocked for a moment, he hadn’t thought of his mother since before he had awoken on the train. It was as though the thought of his real life at home made everything seem suddenly more real and broke down the barrier inside of Orlando’s mind, allowing the memories of his abuse to surface.
“Oh… oh god.” Orlando dug the heels of his hands into his temples, as though trying to physically force the memories from his mind. Without knowing how he had got there, the lad found himself in Viggo’s arms, being rocked back and forth comfortingly whilst the memories washed over him.
He remembered the way those hands had wandered all over his body, just hands everywhere and then on his arse, slipping between his cheeks. His screams only encouraged his tormentors and one of them had licked the tears from his eyes, tears that had been shed when the first cock had pushed its way into him. That one had moved slowly, trying to bring Orlando pleasure whilst violating his most private areas.
Another cock had forced its way into his mouth, and a third also, the owners not caring one bit about whether Orlando could breathe. He had almost blacked out by the time number three took his turn at Orli’s arse, this one preferring it rough, and still there were the hands all over him. Orli could still feel them now, and finding his hands free, he shoved at them.
He could vaguely hear calm voices telling him to let go, to let it all out and he opened his eyes for a moment, the sudden hope too much not to check. To his immense relief, Orlando found that what he had felt as hands groping at his body were just a pair of pyjamas, and the voices belonged to Viggo and his Mama, who was stroking Orlando’s curls in much the same way that his own mother did when he was sick.
Orli lifted a hand to his face, and was shocked to find it tear soaked. Looking up at Viggo’s concerned face, he wondered how long he had been lost in the memories.
“I… I’m sorry,” he choked out, embarrassed to have made a fool of himself in front of these kind, kind people. Orli had always been taught that visitors should go out of their way to be no trouble to their hosts, and he felt that all he had been to Viggo since he met him was an annoyance.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Viggo smiled reassuringly at Orli, producing a box of tissues from the bedside table and offering it to the lad. “You feeling a bit better?” he asked, wondering why he cared so much about someone he had only just met.
Orlando nodded, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “I feel like someone’s put me through a mangle,” Orlando said softly, nuzzling into the hand still present on the top of his head. Mrs Mortensen smiled down at him and gestured to Viggo to help him into bed.
“I think we let you sleep now, darling,” Mama said, tucking the blankets around Orlando. “We can work on feeding you up in the morning.”
Orlando nodded, already falling asleep. The tears he had shed had completely worn him out. He was vaguely aware of a motherly kiss being pressed to his forehead and of the sound of Viggo being ushered from the room in front of his mother. The boy was fast asleep before the door clicked shut.
***
When Orlando woke up the next morning, it was to the delightful smell of freshly cooked bread. He opened his eyes and sat up in the sumptuous bed, smiling at Mrs Mortensen who had brought in a tray of breakfast things for him. When Orlando would have stammered a protest, she shushed him, putting the tray down on a wheeled table which she pushed into place so that Orlando could reach it easily.
“Here now, darling, eat up and then we’ll find you some clothes to wear, hmm?” She spoke softly, in much the same manner Orli imagined she would use when speaking to a small child.
“I have clothes!” Orli protested, wondering if she thought he was homeless or something. He didn’t know what Viggo had said to her the previous night, but was nonetheless grateful for the comfort she seemed only too willing to offer him.
“Of course you do, darling,” Mama Mortensen reassured, “But they’re all in the wash so for today you must borrow something from one of my boys. Unless you would rather go without?” Her look now was mischievous, and Orli giggled, shaking his head to refuse that option.
Leaving Orli to finish his breakfast, Mrs Mortensen bustled off to find some clothes that would fit the slender young man. Her boys were all well grown men if truth be told, all of them built on a bigger scale than Orlando who tended towards the elfin in all aspects aside from height.
When Viggo met Orlando in the hallway a short time later, he found the lad wearing a pair of jeans that he recognised as being his when he was about fourteen, and a baggy t-shirt together with his own ratty trainers and battered jacket. Viggo was dressed in similarly casual clothes, although his own were in rather better condition than Orlando’s.
“Hey,” Orlando spoke shyly, smiling at Viggo from under his bangs and feeling a little awkward in the borrowed clothes which hung on his slim frame. Viggo smiled back at the lad.
“So, Orlando, what do you want to do today? We can go and see some of the sights or just relax here at home.” Viggo wondered if Orlando might be too tired after the events of the past couple of days to spend the day in the city.
“Please… call me Orli. Orlando is what my mum calls me.” Orlando grinned at Viggo who looked understanding. Both men knew what it was like to live with an overbearing mother. “I’d like to go and see the city, if that’s ok?” Orlando asked. “I just want to forget about what happened, put it behind me.”
Viggo nodded, grabbing Orlando’s hand and calling to his mother that they would be back later.
“Quick or she’ll be making us packed lunches and telling us to bring a change of clothes in case it rains!” Viggo explained, dragging Orlando out of the house into the garage. Rather than the massive car from the day before, Viggo pointed to a small convertible, a gorgeous black car that had Orli drooling with envy. Two minutes later, they were away, Mrs Mortensen waving frantically to them to come back and fetch spare coats in case of bad weather.
***
Viggo and Orlando headed towards the harbour to show Orlando the famous Little Mermaid statue. Orlando found Viggo well versed in Danish history and mythology, and listened intently to him as the older man explained the turbulent history of the statue. Walking along the seafront towards the statue, they came across an ice cream seller and Orlando looked hopefully at Viggo.
“Can we get an ice cream?” Orli asked, tugging on the older man’s hand which he had been clutching tightly as they walked along, as though frightened that he would be abandoned in the middle of the city. Viggo had accommodated the young man’s need for this small security with good humour; it was really a pleasure to spend time with Orlando, who was an intelligent young man under all his awkwardness.
“Of course we can. What kind would you like?” Viggo asked, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. He had refused to let Orlando pay for anything, insisting that their day out was his treat to the young man, proof that not all Danes were as unfriendly as those he had met at the train station, not to mention a chance to woo the lad.
Orlando grinned as he licked his ice cream. He was having a great time with Viggo; the older man seemed determined to look after him. The only difficulty was the occasional flip flop of his stomach when Viggo would look at him just so. Orlando told himself firmly that the older man was just being nice to him and that it would be a Bad Idea to fall for him, but he was having trouble convincing himself.
Viggo smiled down at the young man, grinning at the sight of a smear of ice cream on Orlando’s nose. Thinking to himself how cliché this was, Viggo took the handkerchief from his pocket and reached forwards to clean the dollop of cold dessert from the young man’s nose. Orlando giggled as he felt the other man’s hand brush against his face.
“I feel like the heroine in a bad romantic comedy,” Orlando said, with a giggle. “But we haven’t started off on the right foot for that.”
”Oh?” Viggo asked. He hadn’t seen very many romantic films, preferring to watch films with a little more substance to them when he did take the time to watch a movie.
“If this was a romantic comedy we’d start off by hating each other before inevitably falling in love,” Orlando spoke with authority. His mother and older sister were both aficionados of the genre and he had grown up watching all the classics, as well as being forced to take both ladies to all the new releases. Viggo chuckled at Orlando’s enthusiasm.
“I don’t think I mind skipping a step or two,” Viggo answered, quashing his own feelings and glad for the sudden distraction provided by their arrival at the statue. “Look, there she is, just like I told you.”
Orlando gasped, he had not imagined how beautiful the statue was, nor how small. Viggo’s description had been enthusiastic but no mere words could do justice to the statue. Viggo thought to himself how Orlando’s own awkward beauty eclipsed that of the statue.
“Oh HOW can people hurt her when she’s so…” Words failed Orlando as he looked at the statue.
Once again, Viggo was put in mind of Orlando. He was unable to conceive how anyone could behave as cruelly to such beauty as the jerks who had left him on the train. Viggo made a mental note to find out from Orlando what he knew about his attackers and have Karl deal with them if at all possible.
Putting such thoughts from his mind, Viggo devoted himself fully to the day, determined that Orlando was going to have the most enjoyable day of his life today. Viggo was going to see to that.
After enjoying lunch in a small café, Viggo and Orli sat drinking coffee and trying to decide what to do that afternoon. They had spent the rest of the morning wandering the city, Orli snapping photos of everything to show his mother he had explained to Viggo.
“We could go to the zoo…” Viggo suggested, smiling when Orlando’s eyes opened wide with excitement.
“There’s a ZOO?” Orlando asked excitedly, clapping his hands together softly. “I love going to the zoo, all those animals. Do they have monkeys?”
“Well, I haven’t been for a good few years, but I think I can safely say they do have monkeys,” Viggo replied tolerantly. Leaving plenty of kroner on the table to cover their meal, Viggo led Orlando to out to the car ready for the short drive across the city to the zoo.
***
Several hours and ten rolls of film later, Viggo and Orlando were sitting outside the house, Orli leaning his head on Viggo’s shoulder and holding a large stuffed monkey on his lap.
“I had a great time today,” he spoke softly, smiling up at Viggo.
The older man returned his smile, lifting his hand to Orlando’s cheek and gazing into his eyes. “I had forgotten how beautiful Copenhagen really is,” Viggo said, lost in the huge brown eyes of the other man. Orlando nuzzled into the hand that held his cheek and then turned away, looking down into his lap. “What’s wrong?” Viggo asked, concerned for the boy
“I… nothing’s wrong, it just seems like a shame for such a perfect day to have to end.” Orli sounded wistful, making Viggo want to take the boy into his arms. Forcing himself to remember that Orlando needed to be treated with care, Viggo laid a hand on his shoulder.
“The day isn’t over yet, love,” Viggo said, his voice gentle. “I’ve no doubt Mama has made us a huge dinner, and then we can curl up with a movie - one of those romantic ones you like, if you want. After that…”
“After that what?” Orlando asked, turning to look at Viggo with a suddenly hopeful air. Over the course of the day he had given up on the idea of not falling in love, or at least heavily in like, with this man, but he had never dreamed that the feelings could be mutual.
“That depends on what you want, kæreste,” Viggo murmured, his arm creeping around Orlando’s shoulder to squeeze him comfortingly. Orlando smiled and settled into Viggo’s embrace, content to just sit for a moment.
“Are you going to sit out there all night whilst your dinner gets cold?” Viggo’s mother, never one to be shy, stuck her head out of the door and called to them. The two men looked at each other and grinned. It was tempting to stay where they were, but Viggo’s promise of curling up with a movie, and the suggestion of what might come later won over Orlando and he laid his head on Viggo’s arm for a moment before pushing it gently out the way so he could get out the car.
Viggo withdrew his arm and jumped out his side of the car, running round the vehicle to open the door on Orlando’s side and taking the young man’s hand as he stepped out of the car. Viggo slipped one arm around Orlando’s waist, glancing down at him to check that this was ok. Orlando’s own hand clasping his own gave him all the answer he needed and the two men walked slowly to where Viggo’s mother was waiting for them, submitting meekly to the scolding and thorough kissing they were each given.