For One Moment of Love - Chapter 1
Title: For One Moment of Love
Authors: JeyHawk (jeyhawk) & Moraya (mesnica)
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: AU, Angels, Vampires
Beta: tularia and namarie120, special thanks to bwitched83uk for helping with Briticisms
Disclaimer: We are known liars in this community, yet we have the indecency to deliver a brand new set of lies, hoping that we will somehow convince you that Viggo and Orlando are a couple in an alternative universe. *shakes head* Would you believe the nerve of some people?
Summary: When an Angel and a Vampire meet worlds clash and everything that once seemed true and right will be questioned.
Prologue
CHAPTER 1
Orlando had never really been able to make up his mind about what he liked least about the ancient halls he called home, the cold or the terrible echo. In late September the cold was really starting to get to him and the fact that you couldn't even twitch without it bouncing off the walls became less important. During summer when the weather outside was more pleasant and some warmth actually managed to seep in through the various cracks it usually used for escaping, the loudness of the place was more of a problem. It wasn't even as if the place was really loud, it was rather the opposite of loud. Everybody tiptoed around and talked in hushed whispers, which just made the constant echoes that carried every sound round and round and round that much more annoying. Lying in his narrow bed at night Orlando liked to close his eyes and pretend that the constant murmurs were the voices of lost souls telling him the stories of their lives. This night he wouldn't be going to bed anytime soon though, it was in fact time for him to get out and do good deeds. Not that he felt particularly good at the moment, mostly he just felt low. He'd never heard of a depressed angel before, the good work they did was supposed to be reward enough, but he guessed that someone had to be the first. He just wished they'd used someone else for a guinea pig. Every day was just the same, seeing the same sights, doing the same things, and lately that had been getting to him in a way it never did before. He used to see every day as a blessing, now it was just another day to get through.
Rubbing his hands together in a feeble attempt to ward off the cold, he set about his nightly routine: putting on his threadbare jacket, wrapping a scarf around his neck, pressing a cap down over his unruly curls, and checking the pockets to see that he had everything. He glanced at himself in the mirror and smiled slightly. He didn't look like an angel, and that was for sure. If anything he would have taken himself for a struggling artist. For a moment he let his wings show and flapped them slightly; white delicately feathered wings with a span of more than 6 feet suddenly protruding from his back and a halo appearing above his head, partly hidden by his bulbous tweed-cap. He smiled again at the deranged picture he made and let his wings fade back out of view.
The corridors were mostly abandoned when he left; he saw a few other angels but only in passing and he didn't have to talk to anyone. He didn't feel like talking, or - truth be told - doing good deeds, but he would still do it since that was who he was.
~*~
Once he got out on the street he stood still for a few moments, letting the chill seep through his clothes as he waited for that special feeling that told him he had to be somewhere. No such feeling seemed to be forthcoming, so he wandered towards the underground, pretty sure that he would know what line to take and where to get off when he got there.
He showed his Oyster Card to the automatic reader and walked into the station, slowly making his way down into the underground. Tube stations made him nervous, he didn't like being underground at all, but it was a necessity in his job such as it was. Usually by now he would have gotten a feeling that told him if he was supposed to go left or right, backwards or forwards; if he was supposed to take the tube, the bus, walk or run. Since no such feeling had been forthcoming he'd let his feet guide him, and strangely enough they seemed to know where they were going.
After a while he got a feeling that his body was acting on autopilot; it seemed to know where he was going even though he did not. He boarded the first train of the district line that stopped at the platform, and after a while he suddenly got up and stood before the doors waiting to get off at the next station.
As the tube pulled to a stop Orlando stepped off and glanced up at the station sign that told him he was in Earl's Court. It had been a while since he last roamed those parts, but every now and then duty called him to Brompton Cemetery; that was a known haunt for gay men and therefore often a site for random violence.
It was funny how often Orlando's duties had him saving gay men from various plights, but he had always figured God knew that Orlando was a non-practising gay man. He had never had sex, but occasionally he masturbated despite the guilt trip it gave him, and he always fantasized about men. Especially one man who had given him the only kiss he'd ever received.
It had been some 500 or 600 years ago and he supposed that the man was dead since many, many years; but Orlando still cherished that memory like a prized possession, even though he knew it was wrong of him. Over the years he'd forgotten what the man looked like although he was sure he'd been handsome, but the memory of those lips burning into his would never leave him. He supposed it was a sin, hanging on to a memory like he was doing, but he just couldn't let it go. It had been the single most exhilarating and intense moment of his life, he'd never felt so alive.
Orlando was undecided for a moment before taking the exit leaving him closest to the cemetery, and he took a deep breath of relief once he was out in the open again. He'd rather battle the chill in his thin clothes than stay underground a minute longer than necessary. Once outside though, the autopilot seemed to be turned off and his body told him nothing. So after a few more deep breaths, he chose the street leading him to the cemetery and started walking.
He hadn't gotten very far when he heard a choked scream from a narrow alley between two buildings. He turned sharply and hurried into the darkness, jumping to the side when a dark form shot past him. His job was not bringing criminals to justice, even though he did occasionally. His job was saving innocent lives, and the victim of whatever criminal acts had been committed was still in the alley.
After a few more steps into the alley he spotted two shapes standing close together, a male and a female. His heart did a double take when his senses told him the male form was a vampire and he acted purely out of instinct, launching himself forward and knocking the man to the ground.
They landed in a heap, rolling around and grappling for control until Orlando finally managed to get the upper hand. He pinned the vampire down, only to be hit over the head with a handbag that must have been filled with bricks.
"Ouch," he said rubbing at the back of his head and turning to look at the woman he’d presumably just saved. "What did you do that for?"
"I think she was trying to save me," the Vampire said, sounding amused.
"Shut up," Orlando growled at him. "Why were you trying to save him?" he asked the woman that really looked more like a girl to him.
"Because he saved me," she said somehow making it sound like Orlando was an idiot.
"But he's evil," Orlando said and immediately realized how idiotic it sounded.
"Do you know him?" the girl/woman asked.
"No," Orlando admitted.
She shook her head like she couldn't really believe her ears.
"You know what?" she said. "I think I'll just head home and leave the two of you to whatever you two have planned. From up here it doesn't look like something that needs a spectator." For a second she looked wistful. "Thanks for saving my handbag. I won't take this short cut home from work again."
"You don't want me to walk you home?" Orlando asked feeling a bit stupid.
"I think not," she said with emphasis before turning on her heel and walking away.
Orlando looked after her, wondering what just happened. In her eyes he was the evil or possibly insane one, not the vampire he still held pinned to the ground. That was a first.
"Are you going to let me up… Angel? Not that being underneath you doesn’t seem like a good place to be, but the ground is pretty cold," the Vampire said.
Orlando blushed and hastily got to his feet, watching the vampire warily as he did the same.
"What were you really doing to that girl?" he asked sourly.
"Girl? You don't get out much do you? She was in her thirties at least… and I was saving her. She told you."
"Yeah, right," Orlando said, taking a closer look at the vampire who was brushing off his long woollen overcoat.
The vampire straightened and looked back at him with a lazy smile. Orlando swallowed audibly; the man was gorgeous. He vividly cursed whatever fool had decided to give the angels a libido when they weren't allowed to have sex, because his body responded instinctively to the sight before him.
The vampire was slightly taller than him and looked to be older, but Orlando was willing to bet he had a few centuries going for him there. A manly handsome face was crowned by red blond hair and made beautiful by intense blue-grey eyes. A stubbled jaw with a cleft chin enhanced the effect of masculinity, and lush kissable lips that were saved from being feminine by the narrow upper lip and an enthralling scar completed the picture.
"Stop using your evil wiles on me, Vampire," he spat out angrily, since that was the only reason he could think of for his violent reaction to the other man.
"Huh," the Vampire said, looking at him like he was touched in the head.
"Your evil nasty vampiric ways won't work with me," he warned, even though he had a feeling he was talking more to himself than the vampire that was still looking strangely at him.
"They shouldn't," the Vampire said. "You're a supernatural being and thus immune to whatever wiles I might have, of which I have none I assure you." He looked thoughtful. "Well, at least none that are important to this particular conversation."
Orlando knew he should walk away and leave the disaster he'd made of their conversation and his reaction to the vampire behind, but he just couldn't do it. He couldn't walk away from the intense feeling of being alive that the vampire gave him. Every part of his being was reaching out towards this creature of darkness in a way he'd never experienced before. Inside he was screaming for the vampire to touch him while on the outside he was trying to put some space between them.
"So angel, do you have a name?" the Vampire asked.
Orlando hated himself when his body gave a pleasant little shudder at the use of a nickname that really wasn't one. Calling someone else angel was an endearment; calling him angel was a statement of fact.
"Orlando," he murmured. "You?"
"Orlando," the Vampire smiled. "A beautiful name for a beautiful face. I'm Viggo."
Viggo. A fleeting memory rose in Orlando's mind at the name, but it was gone again before he could grasp it. He frowned inwardly as every time he knew that there once had been something in his mind that he just couldn't recall anymore.
"Flattery won't get you in good graces with me," he hissed at the Vampire then, not sure if it really was Viggo's remark that made him angry but taking it out on him anyway.
"I was merely observing the truth," Viggo countered. "You have to know that you're gorgeous, even when you're fuming as you are now."
"The truth." Orlando snorted. "You don't really expect me to believe that a Vampire would tell anyone the truth, do you?" The Angel couldn't remember the last time he had been this irritated at someone, usually he was always calm and composed no matter the situation, but merely looking at this Vampire got his blood boiling.
Viggo looked calmly at the seething Angel in front of him. "You don't know many Vampires, right?" he asked finally. "We're not those monsters the mortals make us out to be."
"Of course, and Santa Claus really exists."
"Actually, yes. After all he is based on-"
"I know that!" Orlando yelled. "But that's got nothing to do with this."
"You were the one that brought it up."
The Angel was pretty sure that if he'd been a mortal he would have hit Viggo by now. It would feel so good to let this anger out in a physical way. But even though there wasn't a straight rule against violence, he was pretty sure that it would be wrong to act aggressive.
Orlando clenched his fists against his sides and his eyes flashed as he tried to will his emotions to ebb down. The Vampire, Viggo, looked at him with a smile lingering on his lips.
"It doesn't take much to upset you, gorgeous," he said. "I wonder if you would flush as prettily in bed."
Orlando's anger rose to an almost unbearable level, and he was just about to turn on his heel and walk away, lest he did something irrevocable, when Viggo suddenly moved in and kissed him. The anger dissipated the moment Viggo's lips touched his and Orlando found himself leaning into the kiss.
His mouth seemingly opened on its own volition since suddenly Orlando found it invaded by the hot tongue of the Vampire, sliding against the Angel's, stroking and caressing it. It felt like heaven on earth and Orlando melted, giving himself over to his body's urges.
It could have been seconds or hours that passed until Viggo forced his mouth away from the Angel's. He almost grinned looking at the flushed form in front of him; Orlando's eyes were closed, his lips red and swollen and he breathed heavily.
It took Orlando all his willpower not to attack the Vampire and force his mouth on him again, even if that was frankly all he wanted right now. A few minutes passed while he stood unmoving in the dark alley and concentrated on taking deep breaths until he felt brave enough to open his eyes.
And looked at an empty street. He spun around quickly and saw only the back of the Vampire as Viggo rounded the street corner.
~*~
Without stopping to think he followed him, running to catch up with the Vampire that had a head start on him.
"Where are you going?" he asked when he'd managed to come up behind Viggo.
"To a party," the Vampire said blandly without looking back.
"I mean, why did you do that? Kiss me like that?"
"Why did you kiss me back?" The Vampire retorted, crossing the street before them without even looking to see if it was clear.
Orlando followed him, only stopping when a loudly honking horn alerted him to the fact that he was about to be run over by a car. He paused long enough for the car to pass, before chasing after the infuriating Vampire that hadn't even had the decency to look back to see if he was okay. Viggo disappeared through the gates of Brompton Cemetery and when Orlando followed him, the Vampire was suddenly nowhere to be seen. Orlando glared at nothing in particular and walked further into the cemetery, trying to get a feel for where Viggo might be hiding. He hadn't gotten very far when he heard movement behind him and two arms came around him from behind.
"Why are you following me, Orlando?" Viggo asked, his breath hot and moist against Orlando's ear. "Eager for another taste of my lips, are you?"
"No," Orlando exclaimed, fighting against the arms that were like an iron band around his upper body, keeping his arms locked to his sides. "I don't want you to kiss me again."
"Liar," Viggo chuckled, letting him go.
Orlando spun around, intending to tell Viggo what a despicable creature he was, but the words got stuck half way out. Viggo was simply beautiful in the gloom of the cemetery, and Orlando found himself moving closer without really meaning to. The Vampire opened his arms to him with a smile playing on his lips and Orlando dove right into them, pressing his lips against the Vampire's in desperation.
He couldn't stop himself as Viggo let him command the kiss; he pushed his tongue deep into the Vampire's mouth as he wound his arms around Viggo's neck. His body was afire with intense desire and if he could he would have crawled into Viggo's skin. Never in his thousands-and-then-some years had he felt such a need to touch and be touched.
Viggo seemed to feel the same way if the tightness of his arms around Orlando's waist was anything to judge by, and when Viggo's fingers wound themselves under the hem of Orlando's shirt it didn't feel like an intrusion but rather like the most natural thing in the world.
Shivers ran down the Angel's back in waves as Viggo caressed the soft skin of his back and sides. Desperate for contact, Orlando attacked the Vampire’s clothes, trying to get his hands on Viggo's body too, but the long coat hindered every attempt.
Frustrated, Orlando broke the kiss. "Take it off," he demanded against the Vampire's mouth, not losing his tight grip on him.
Viggo smirked and loosened his grip on the Angel, then pried Orlando's hands from his body and took a step back.
"Not here," he said, grabbing Orlando's hand and pulling him deeper in the cemetery.
The Angel wanted to protest being kept apart from the body his innermost essence seemed to crave, but the small contact of the Vampire's hand on his was enough for him to stay quiet for now.
They made their way between the old graves and crypts quickly. At any other time Orlando would have looked around, taking in the details of stone statuettes or inscripted poems under names long forgotten; but tonight he couldn't take his eyes from the Vampire that had him forgetting every rule the Angels ever had made in a heartbeat.
Viggo stopped in a dark corner of the large cemetery, next to a stone sarcophagus shaded by several huge trees, and pressed the Angel against the hard surface of the tomb.
Orlando shivered as Viggo raised his hand to stroke softly over the side of his face before leaning in and pressing his lips on the Angel's. His hand came up again, clutching at the Vampire's strong arms, drawing the body nearer to his own.
The tongue in his mouth caressed Orlando's, sliding against it languidly and inviting the Angel's to play with it. A whimper sounded in the silence of the night, and Orlando realized that it must have come from him.
Viggo's hands had taken up stroking his skin under the soft fabric of his T-Shirt again, and he was reminded that he wanted to feel the Vampire too. This time, though, Viggo seemed to understand Orlando's frantic struggle with the woollen coat, and he quickly divested himself from it, before joining his mouth to the Angel's once more. Orlando managed to pull Viggo's shirt up enough to get his fingers in under it and moaned when he felt hot skin beneath his fingertips. He'd never touched anyone like this before, never felt their skin tremble under his fingers. He pushed his hands further in under the shirt until he found the light matting of hair on Viggo's chest, winding his fingers in it.
A startled moan escaped him when one of the Vampire's hands reached down and cupped him through his pants. No one had ever touched him there before and he couldn't believe how good the warm weight of Viggo's hand felt against his hard cock. Without even meaning to he pushed his hips against Viggo's hand, looking for much needed friction as he slid his own hands around Viggo to caress his back.
"Please," he whispered in hushed gasps when he tore himself away from Viggo's mouth. "I want…"
Orlando cut himself off, he didn't really know what he wanted. He knew of sex between men of course, about what parts went where, but it was on a highly theoretical level and his fantasies, to be honest, weren't all that exciting.
Viggo seemed to know what he meant, because he opened Orlando's fly and pulled his pants down so that he could free the angel's cock from his boxers. Orlando closed his eyes, suddenly shy. He'd understood over the years that men spent a lot of time worrying about the size of their penis and how it compared to others'. He hadn't, but suddenly he found himself wondering if it was a good size or not.
"Easy," Viggo said against Orlando's ear, his breath hot against the angel's chilled skin.
Orlando tried to suppress the tremors and the sound that kept spilling from his mouth when Viggo fondled him softly, but he couldn't.
"I'm sorry," he gasped. "I've never… no one ever…" Orlando's words disappeared in a moan.
Viggo's hand stilled and he let go of the angel's dripping cock in favour of making the pleasure-dazed Orlando look at him.
Orlando blinked, trying to focus on Viggo's blue-grey eyes, but his eyes kept crossing as pleasure continued to sizzle along his nerve-endings. It seemed Viggo didn't have touch him intimately for fireworks to go off through out his body, he only needed the Vampire's touch anywhere for that.
"Thank you," the Vampire said. "For letting me be the first one to touch you like this."
Orlando wanted to answer something, but he couldn't find any words, so he pressed his lips to the vampire's again. Viggo opened his mouth and readily welcomed his tongue, letting it twine around his in a slick heated kiss. Orlando moaned, pressing himself closer to Viggo, almost coming when his cock brushed against the rough material of the vampire's pants. Viggo seemed to sense his need and reached down to take hold of Orlando's cock again, stroking it with slow sure moves.
Orlando tore his mouth away from Viggo's, whimpering in blind need. The vampire used his other hand to hold Orlando tight against his body and whispered soft kisses all over the angel's face. Orlando clenched Viggo's upper arms hard enough to hurt as he neared his climax. Viggo lifting his head to look at him was the last thing he was aware of before a bone shuddering wave of bliss crashed down over him and he was coming with alarming intensity. His orgasm seemed to go on forever as hot seed pumped out of him coating Viggo's hand.
When the pleasure finally subsided Orlando's knees were so weak that he had to lean against the sarcophagus to be able to keep upright. He looked up to find Viggo looking at him, his eyes dark with lust. Orlando knew he ought to reciprocate in some manner, but before he got the chance to say or do anything, Viggo was bending down and retrieving his coat from the ground. Perceiving it as a brush off, Orlando quickly busied himself with zipping up, shivering in the cold that he had momentarily forgotten all about in favour of the heat inside.
"You should really get yourself a thicker jacket," the Vampire said against his ear, and for a moment his lips pressed against Orlando's cheek.
"Can't afford it," Orlando mumbled and as he turned his head, Viggo was gone.
When he craned his neck he could see Viggo walking through the cemetery, his dark coat billowing around his feet in true vampire fashion, and this time Orlando didn't feel like following him. Their words of goodbye told him everything he needed to know about what had happened between them.
To him it had been an earth shattering, faith shaking experience, to Viggo it had just been another night on the town. Dejected, his legs finally gave up keeping Orlando standing and he sank down next to the stone tomb.
TBC…
Authors: JeyHawk (jeyhawk) & Moraya (mesnica)
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: AU, Angels, Vampires
Beta: tularia and namarie120, special thanks to bwitched83uk for helping with Briticisms
Disclaimer: We are known liars in this community, yet we have the indecency to deliver a brand new set of lies, hoping that we will somehow convince you that Viggo and Orlando are a couple in an alternative universe. *shakes head* Would you believe the nerve of some people?
Summary: When an Angel and a Vampire meet worlds clash and everything that once seemed true and right will be questioned.
Prologue
CHAPTER 1
Orlando had never really been able to make up his mind about what he liked least about the ancient halls he called home, the cold or the terrible echo. In late September the cold was really starting to get to him and the fact that you couldn't even twitch without it bouncing off the walls became less important. During summer when the weather outside was more pleasant and some warmth actually managed to seep in through the various cracks it usually used for escaping, the loudness of the place was more of a problem. It wasn't even as if the place was really loud, it was rather the opposite of loud. Everybody tiptoed around and talked in hushed whispers, which just made the constant echoes that carried every sound round and round and round that much more annoying. Lying in his narrow bed at night Orlando liked to close his eyes and pretend that the constant murmurs were the voices of lost souls telling him the stories of their lives. This night he wouldn't be going to bed anytime soon though, it was in fact time for him to get out and do good deeds. Not that he felt particularly good at the moment, mostly he just felt low. He'd never heard of a depressed angel before, the good work they did was supposed to be reward enough, but he guessed that someone had to be the first. He just wished they'd used someone else for a guinea pig. Every day was just the same, seeing the same sights, doing the same things, and lately that had been getting to him in a way it never did before. He used to see every day as a blessing, now it was just another day to get through.
Rubbing his hands together in a feeble attempt to ward off the cold, he set about his nightly routine: putting on his threadbare jacket, wrapping a scarf around his neck, pressing a cap down over his unruly curls, and checking the pockets to see that he had everything. He glanced at himself in the mirror and smiled slightly. He didn't look like an angel, and that was for sure. If anything he would have taken himself for a struggling artist. For a moment he let his wings show and flapped them slightly; white delicately feathered wings with a span of more than 6 feet suddenly protruding from his back and a halo appearing above his head, partly hidden by his bulbous tweed-cap. He smiled again at the deranged picture he made and let his wings fade back out of view.
The corridors were mostly abandoned when he left; he saw a few other angels but only in passing and he didn't have to talk to anyone. He didn't feel like talking, or - truth be told - doing good deeds, but he would still do it since that was who he was.
~*~
Once he got out on the street he stood still for a few moments, letting the chill seep through his clothes as he waited for that special feeling that told him he had to be somewhere. No such feeling seemed to be forthcoming, so he wandered towards the underground, pretty sure that he would know what line to take and where to get off when he got there.
He showed his Oyster Card to the automatic reader and walked into the station, slowly making his way down into the underground. Tube stations made him nervous, he didn't like being underground at all, but it was a necessity in his job such as it was. Usually by now he would have gotten a feeling that told him if he was supposed to go left or right, backwards or forwards; if he was supposed to take the tube, the bus, walk or run. Since no such feeling had been forthcoming he'd let his feet guide him, and strangely enough they seemed to know where they were going.
After a while he got a feeling that his body was acting on autopilot; it seemed to know where he was going even though he did not. He boarded the first train of the district line that stopped at the platform, and after a while he suddenly got up and stood before the doors waiting to get off at the next station.
As the tube pulled to a stop Orlando stepped off and glanced up at the station sign that told him he was in Earl's Court. It had been a while since he last roamed those parts, but every now and then duty called him to Brompton Cemetery; that was a known haunt for gay men and therefore often a site for random violence.
It was funny how often Orlando's duties had him saving gay men from various plights, but he had always figured God knew that Orlando was a non-practising gay man. He had never had sex, but occasionally he masturbated despite the guilt trip it gave him, and he always fantasized about men. Especially one man who had given him the only kiss he'd ever received.
It had been some 500 or 600 years ago and he supposed that the man was dead since many, many years; but Orlando still cherished that memory like a prized possession, even though he knew it was wrong of him. Over the years he'd forgotten what the man looked like although he was sure he'd been handsome, but the memory of those lips burning into his would never leave him. He supposed it was a sin, hanging on to a memory like he was doing, but he just couldn't let it go. It had been the single most exhilarating and intense moment of his life, he'd never felt so alive.
Orlando was undecided for a moment before taking the exit leaving him closest to the cemetery, and he took a deep breath of relief once he was out in the open again. He'd rather battle the chill in his thin clothes than stay underground a minute longer than necessary. Once outside though, the autopilot seemed to be turned off and his body told him nothing. So after a few more deep breaths, he chose the street leading him to the cemetery and started walking.
He hadn't gotten very far when he heard a choked scream from a narrow alley between two buildings. He turned sharply and hurried into the darkness, jumping to the side when a dark form shot past him. His job was not bringing criminals to justice, even though he did occasionally. His job was saving innocent lives, and the victim of whatever criminal acts had been committed was still in the alley.
After a few more steps into the alley he spotted two shapes standing close together, a male and a female. His heart did a double take when his senses told him the male form was a vampire and he acted purely out of instinct, launching himself forward and knocking the man to the ground.
They landed in a heap, rolling around and grappling for control until Orlando finally managed to get the upper hand. He pinned the vampire down, only to be hit over the head with a handbag that must have been filled with bricks.
"Ouch," he said rubbing at the back of his head and turning to look at the woman he’d presumably just saved. "What did you do that for?"
"I think she was trying to save me," the Vampire said, sounding amused.
"Shut up," Orlando growled at him. "Why were you trying to save him?" he asked the woman that really looked more like a girl to him.
"Because he saved me," she said somehow making it sound like Orlando was an idiot.
"But he's evil," Orlando said and immediately realized how idiotic it sounded.
"Do you know him?" the girl/woman asked.
"No," Orlando admitted.
She shook her head like she couldn't really believe her ears.
"You know what?" she said. "I think I'll just head home and leave the two of you to whatever you two have planned. From up here it doesn't look like something that needs a spectator." For a second she looked wistful. "Thanks for saving my handbag. I won't take this short cut home from work again."
"You don't want me to walk you home?" Orlando asked feeling a bit stupid.
"I think not," she said with emphasis before turning on her heel and walking away.
Orlando looked after her, wondering what just happened. In her eyes he was the evil or possibly insane one, not the vampire he still held pinned to the ground. That was a first.
"Are you going to let me up… Angel? Not that being underneath you doesn’t seem like a good place to be, but the ground is pretty cold," the Vampire said.
Orlando blushed and hastily got to his feet, watching the vampire warily as he did the same.
"What were you really doing to that girl?" he asked sourly.
"Girl? You don't get out much do you? She was in her thirties at least… and I was saving her. She told you."
"Yeah, right," Orlando said, taking a closer look at the vampire who was brushing off his long woollen overcoat.
The vampire straightened and looked back at him with a lazy smile. Orlando swallowed audibly; the man was gorgeous. He vividly cursed whatever fool had decided to give the angels a libido when they weren't allowed to have sex, because his body responded instinctively to the sight before him.
The vampire was slightly taller than him and looked to be older, but Orlando was willing to bet he had a few centuries going for him there. A manly handsome face was crowned by red blond hair and made beautiful by intense blue-grey eyes. A stubbled jaw with a cleft chin enhanced the effect of masculinity, and lush kissable lips that were saved from being feminine by the narrow upper lip and an enthralling scar completed the picture.
"Stop using your evil wiles on me, Vampire," he spat out angrily, since that was the only reason he could think of for his violent reaction to the other man.
"Huh," the Vampire said, looking at him like he was touched in the head.
"Your evil nasty vampiric ways won't work with me," he warned, even though he had a feeling he was talking more to himself than the vampire that was still looking strangely at him.
"They shouldn't," the Vampire said. "You're a supernatural being and thus immune to whatever wiles I might have, of which I have none I assure you." He looked thoughtful. "Well, at least none that are important to this particular conversation."
Orlando knew he should walk away and leave the disaster he'd made of their conversation and his reaction to the vampire behind, but he just couldn't do it. He couldn't walk away from the intense feeling of being alive that the vampire gave him. Every part of his being was reaching out towards this creature of darkness in a way he'd never experienced before. Inside he was screaming for the vampire to touch him while on the outside he was trying to put some space between them.
"So angel, do you have a name?" the Vampire asked.
Orlando hated himself when his body gave a pleasant little shudder at the use of a nickname that really wasn't one. Calling someone else angel was an endearment; calling him angel was a statement of fact.
"Orlando," he murmured. "You?"
"Orlando," the Vampire smiled. "A beautiful name for a beautiful face. I'm Viggo."
Viggo. A fleeting memory rose in Orlando's mind at the name, but it was gone again before he could grasp it. He frowned inwardly as every time he knew that there once had been something in his mind that he just couldn't recall anymore.
"Flattery won't get you in good graces with me," he hissed at the Vampire then, not sure if it really was Viggo's remark that made him angry but taking it out on him anyway.
"I was merely observing the truth," Viggo countered. "You have to know that you're gorgeous, even when you're fuming as you are now."
"The truth." Orlando snorted. "You don't really expect me to believe that a Vampire would tell anyone the truth, do you?" The Angel couldn't remember the last time he had been this irritated at someone, usually he was always calm and composed no matter the situation, but merely looking at this Vampire got his blood boiling.
Viggo looked calmly at the seething Angel in front of him. "You don't know many Vampires, right?" he asked finally. "We're not those monsters the mortals make us out to be."
"Of course, and Santa Claus really exists."
"Actually, yes. After all he is based on-"
"I know that!" Orlando yelled. "But that's got nothing to do with this."
"You were the one that brought it up."
The Angel was pretty sure that if he'd been a mortal he would have hit Viggo by now. It would feel so good to let this anger out in a physical way. But even though there wasn't a straight rule against violence, he was pretty sure that it would be wrong to act aggressive.
Orlando clenched his fists against his sides and his eyes flashed as he tried to will his emotions to ebb down. The Vampire, Viggo, looked at him with a smile lingering on his lips.
"It doesn't take much to upset you, gorgeous," he said. "I wonder if you would flush as prettily in bed."
Orlando's anger rose to an almost unbearable level, and he was just about to turn on his heel and walk away, lest he did something irrevocable, when Viggo suddenly moved in and kissed him. The anger dissipated the moment Viggo's lips touched his and Orlando found himself leaning into the kiss.
His mouth seemingly opened on its own volition since suddenly Orlando found it invaded by the hot tongue of the Vampire, sliding against the Angel's, stroking and caressing it. It felt like heaven on earth and Orlando melted, giving himself over to his body's urges.
It could have been seconds or hours that passed until Viggo forced his mouth away from the Angel's. He almost grinned looking at the flushed form in front of him; Orlando's eyes were closed, his lips red and swollen and he breathed heavily.
It took Orlando all his willpower not to attack the Vampire and force his mouth on him again, even if that was frankly all he wanted right now. A few minutes passed while he stood unmoving in the dark alley and concentrated on taking deep breaths until he felt brave enough to open his eyes.
And looked at an empty street. He spun around quickly and saw only the back of the Vampire as Viggo rounded the street corner.
~*~
Without stopping to think he followed him, running to catch up with the Vampire that had a head start on him.
"Where are you going?" he asked when he'd managed to come up behind Viggo.
"To a party," the Vampire said blandly without looking back.
"I mean, why did you do that? Kiss me like that?"
"Why did you kiss me back?" The Vampire retorted, crossing the street before them without even looking to see if it was clear.
Orlando followed him, only stopping when a loudly honking horn alerted him to the fact that he was about to be run over by a car. He paused long enough for the car to pass, before chasing after the infuriating Vampire that hadn't even had the decency to look back to see if he was okay. Viggo disappeared through the gates of Brompton Cemetery and when Orlando followed him, the Vampire was suddenly nowhere to be seen. Orlando glared at nothing in particular and walked further into the cemetery, trying to get a feel for where Viggo might be hiding. He hadn't gotten very far when he heard movement behind him and two arms came around him from behind.
"Why are you following me, Orlando?" Viggo asked, his breath hot and moist against Orlando's ear. "Eager for another taste of my lips, are you?"
"No," Orlando exclaimed, fighting against the arms that were like an iron band around his upper body, keeping his arms locked to his sides. "I don't want you to kiss me again."
"Liar," Viggo chuckled, letting him go.
Orlando spun around, intending to tell Viggo what a despicable creature he was, but the words got stuck half way out. Viggo was simply beautiful in the gloom of the cemetery, and Orlando found himself moving closer without really meaning to. The Vampire opened his arms to him with a smile playing on his lips and Orlando dove right into them, pressing his lips against the Vampire's in desperation.
He couldn't stop himself as Viggo let him command the kiss; he pushed his tongue deep into the Vampire's mouth as he wound his arms around Viggo's neck. His body was afire with intense desire and if he could he would have crawled into Viggo's skin. Never in his thousands-and-then-some years had he felt such a need to touch and be touched.
Viggo seemed to feel the same way if the tightness of his arms around Orlando's waist was anything to judge by, and when Viggo's fingers wound themselves under the hem of Orlando's shirt it didn't feel like an intrusion but rather like the most natural thing in the world.
Shivers ran down the Angel's back in waves as Viggo caressed the soft skin of his back and sides. Desperate for contact, Orlando attacked the Vampire’s clothes, trying to get his hands on Viggo's body too, but the long coat hindered every attempt.
Frustrated, Orlando broke the kiss. "Take it off," he demanded against the Vampire's mouth, not losing his tight grip on him.
Viggo smirked and loosened his grip on the Angel, then pried Orlando's hands from his body and took a step back.
"Not here," he said, grabbing Orlando's hand and pulling him deeper in the cemetery.
The Angel wanted to protest being kept apart from the body his innermost essence seemed to crave, but the small contact of the Vampire's hand on his was enough for him to stay quiet for now.
They made their way between the old graves and crypts quickly. At any other time Orlando would have looked around, taking in the details of stone statuettes or inscripted poems under names long forgotten; but tonight he couldn't take his eyes from the Vampire that had him forgetting every rule the Angels ever had made in a heartbeat.
Viggo stopped in a dark corner of the large cemetery, next to a stone sarcophagus shaded by several huge trees, and pressed the Angel against the hard surface of the tomb.
Orlando shivered as Viggo raised his hand to stroke softly over the side of his face before leaning in and pressing his lips on the Angel's. His hand came up again, clutching at the Vampire's strong arms, drawing the body nearer to his own.
The tongue in his mouth caressed Orlando's, sliding against it languidly and inviting the Angel's to play with it. A whimper sounded in the silence of the night, and Orlando realized that it must have come from him.
Viggo's hands had taken up stroking his skin under the soft fabric of his T-Shirt again, and he was reminded that he wanted to feel the Vampire too. This time, though, Viggo seemed to understand Orlando's frantic struggle with the woollen coat, and he quickly divested himself from it, before joining his mouth to the Angel's once more. Orlando managed to pull Viggo's shirt up enough to get his fingers in under it and moaned when he felt hot skin beneath his fingertips. He'd never touched anyone like this before, never felt their skin tremble under his fingers. He pushed his hands further in under the shirt until he found the light matting of hair on Viggo's chest, winding his fingers in it.
A startled moan escaped him when one of the Vampire's hands reached down and cupped him through his pants. No one had ever touched him there before and he couldn't believe how good the warm weight of Viggo's hand felt against his hard cock. Without even meaning to he pushed his hips against Viggo's hand, looking for much needed friction as he slid his own hands around Viggo to caress his back.
"Please," he whispered in hushed gasps when he tore himself away from Viggo's mouth. "I want…"
Orlando cut himself off, he didn't really know what he wanted. He knew of sex between men of course, about what parts went where, but it was on a highly theoretical level and his fantasies, to be honest, weren't all that exciting.
Viggo seemed to know what he meant, because he opened Orlando's fly and pulled his pants down so that he could free the angel's cock from his boxers. Orlando closed his eyes, suddenly shy. He'd understood over the years that men spent a lot of time worrying about the size of their penis and how it compared to others'. He hadn't, but suddenly he found himself wondering if it was a good size or not.
"Easy," Viggo said against Orlando's ear, his breath hot against the angel's chilled skin.
Orlando tried to suppress the tremors and the sound that kept spilling from his mouth when Viggo fondled him softly, but he couldn't.
"I'm sorry," he gasped. "I've never… no one ever…" Orlando's words disappeared in a moan.
Viggo's hand stilled and he let go of the angel's dripping cock in favour of making the pleasure-dazed Orlando look at him.
Orlando blinked, trying to focus on Viggo's blue-grey eyes, but his eyes kept crossing as pleasure continued to sizzle along his nerve-endings. It seemed Viggo didn't have touch him intimately for fireworks to go off through out his body, he only needed the Vampire's touch anywhere for that.
"Thank you," the Vampire said. "For letting me be the first one to touch you like this."
Orlando wanted to answer something, but he couldn't find any words, so he pressed his lips to the vampire's again. Viggo opened his mouth and readily welcomed his tongue, letting it twine around his in a slick heated kiss. Orlando moaned, pressing himself closer to Viggo, almost coming when his cock brushed against the rough material of the vampire's pants. Viggo seemed to sense his need and reached down to take hold of Orlando's cock again, stroking it with slow sure moves.
Orlando tore his mouth away from Viggo's, whimpering in blind need. The vampire used his other hand to hold Orlando tight against his body and whispered soft kisses all over the angel's face. Orlando clenched Viggo's upper arms hard enough to hurt as he neared his climax. Viggo lifting his head to look at him was the last thing he was aware of before a bone shuddering wave of bliss crashed down over him and he was coming with alarming intensity. His orgasm seemed to go on forever as hot seed pumped out of him coating Viggo's hand.
When the pleasure finally subsided Orlando's knees were so weak that he had to lean against the sarcophagus to be able to keep upright. He looked up to find Viggo looking at him, his eyes dark with lust. Orlando knew he ought to reciprocate in some manner, but before he got the chance to say or do anything, Viggo was bending down and retrieving his coat from the ground. Perceiving it as a brush off, Orlando quickly busied himself with zipping up, shivering in the cold that he had momentarily forgotten all about in favour of the heat inside.
"You should really get yourself a thicker jacket," the Vampire said against his ear, and for a moment his lips pressed against Orlando's cheek.
"Can't afford it," Orlando mumbled and as he turned his head, Viggo was gone.
When he craned his neck he could see Viggo walking through the cemetery, his dark coat billowing around his feet in true vampire fashion, and this time Orlando didn't feel like following him. Their words of goodbye told him everything he needed to know about what had happened between them.
To him it had been an earth shattering, faith shaking experience, to Viggo it had just been another night on the town. Dejected, his legs finally gave up keeping Orlando standing and he sank down next to the stone tomb.
TBC…