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Title: The Thought and Dream of You
Summary: Viggo is restless. But not worried. Not at all. The story of Viggo's and Orlando's first night together in NZ.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: They're not mine, and I don't know anything about them. I'm not making any statement about their personal lives, sexual preferences etc. It's all just for fun.
A/N: Written for [ profile] vo_xmas (2007) as a gift for [ profile] lady_razzle who asked for the following: NZ fic. I would love some good old NZ fic. - Happy Christmas!
Beta: [ profile] namarie120 - Thank you so much!

The Thought and Dream of You

It is a chilly evening, and Viggo has lost track of time. It is not October anymore, he knows that much, but then there is a gap. It might still be April, but it could very well be May, early May, though, certainly not later in the year.

It is a chilly evening, and Viggo is restless. He rises from his chair, even though his body is exhausted and even though he has just sat down. He lights a cigarette and sits down again. He reaches for the sketchbook and the pencil and begins to scrawl. After a minute or so he lays both paper and pencil down and gets up once more, sighing.

On his way to the kitchen Viggo switches off the lamps, and darkness drifts into the room. Lights from outside leave their weak, reluctant shimmer upon the floor and furniture. He hears a distant sound of a car approaching and stopping, tires on gravel and an engine dying, and then a door opens and is slammed shut. A dog barks, and someone calls for silence. Footsteps. Silence.

Viggo takes a bottle of beer from the fridge and returns to the table. The cigarette glows in the ashtray. Viggo's eyes focus on that smouldering, smoking source of light, staring at it, gnawing at it, drawing and sucking it in until it settles firmly in the center of his chest. It warms his body, yes, but it also stings a little, deep down inside him, where it rests inside his heart. The sensation spreads, and Viggo's hand rises and comes to rest against his breastbone. He hisses, hoping the stinging gleam will not draw blood. One cannot be too careful.

Viggo flexes his shoulders and feels how the small glowing weight shifts inside him. His hand pats his chest, and he can feel the vibrations reverberate through his body. His heartbeat quickens, and his breath hitches.

He reaches for the cigarette and takes a deep draw. Closing his eyes, he exhales slowly. His thoughts drift away from the glowing ash and travel backwards in time. It has been a good day on set. Exhausting, yes, both mentally and physically, but also challenging and productive. Sean and Orlando were good, almost reaching the level of intensity they were aiming for. Viggo knows that Peter will be content with at least some of the dailies.

Viggo enjoys having Sean back. A smile creeps onto his face as he remembers the welcome party a few days ago. Good to have him back, he thinks.

And Orlando. The smile deepens, and for a moment there the sharp sting inside Viggo returns. He takes another drag from the cigarette, opens his eyes and crushes the butt in the ashtray. He brings the bottle to his mouth and lets the cool glass slide over his lips, lets the scent of hops and barley fill his nose. He purses his lips and blows against the small opening of the bottle. The high-pitched whistling noise makes him chuckle.

Viggo takes a swig and sets the bottle down again. He wipes his mouth and leans back in his chair. The embers inside have almost expired, and all he can feel now is a distant presence - a faint glow and some remaining warmth. His breath evens.

A knock on the door disrupts the silence.

Viggo pushes back his chair, rises and walks through the hallway. Another knock, knuckles against wood, a little louder this time. He opens the door and finds Orlando standing on his doorstep, hands in his pockets, shoulders tense, shivering slightly.

"Come in," Viggo mumbles and opens the door a little wider.

Orlando slips past him, and Viggo closes his eyes and inhales.

After a second or two, Viggo shuts the door and follows Orlando. "Have a seat," he says and steers Orlando towards the living-room. "Be right with you."

He fetches another bottle of beer from the fridge and sits back down. Orlando chooses the chair on the opposite side of the table. Viggo shoves the other bottle towards Orlando and takes another swig from his own.

"You're sitting here in the dark?" Orlando's voice is filled with a slight smile.

In the darkness Viggo can see that Orlando has placed his hands on the table, palms flat against the surface.

"Yes," Viggo answers slowly. "I was restless."

Orlando nods briefly and tilts his head. "Worries?"

Orlando's skin is pale in the half-light, almost white, and his eyes glitter.

"No," Viggo says and shakes his head. "Not at all." He clears his throat and brings the bottle to his lips once more. "I was just restless."

"Are you still?" Orlando reaches across the table and touches Viggo's elbow.

"No," Viggo answers and places his hand on top of Orlando's, his thumb brushing over Orlando's skin. "Not anymore." He grins. "You were good today."

Orlando withdraws his hand and frowns. "I don't know."

Viggo rises and turns on the light. He walks over to where Orlando is sitting and reaches for his hand.

"You were." He squeezes Orlando's hand slightly before he lets it go. He pulls up a chair, turns it around and sits down facing the other man.

"How can I help?"

Orlando hesitates. "I don't know," he says again and shrugs. "I just feel as if... I don't know." He sighs.

"I'm not used to having Sean back."

"Ah," Viggo says. "But that's something you can use. Don't you think?"

Orlando rises.

"Maybe," he reaches for his bottle and takes a deep swallow. "Maybe. I don't know." He sets the bottle on the table and turns towards the door.

"Thanks for the beer, Vig." He looks back over his shoulder. "And for the advice."

Orlando walks out of the door and across the hallway.

Viggo can hear how Orlando opens the front door and how the door closes behind him. He gets up and follows Orlando. He knows that Orlando has taken only a few steps away from the door. He knows that Orlando is turning around now, walking back to the house, up the stairs. He smiles as he opens the door.

Orlando is standing on his threshold again, very much the same picture as before. He is biting his lips this time, and a faint blush has spread over his cheeks.

"That wasn't what you came here for," Viggo states. "The beer. The advice."

Orlando shakes his head.

"No." He pauses. "I was restless, too."


"Not at all." Orlando smiles.


Viggo reaches for Orlando's hand and pulls him inside. Closing the door behind them, he draws Orlando closer and brings their lips together. He can feel Orlando's smile against his lips.

"Good," he mutters, and his hands reach up to cup Orlando's face.

Orlando leans into the touch. "This is what I came here for."

"I know," Viggo breathes against Orlando's lips. "I knew you'd come. I have been waiting for you."

"God," Orlando sighs as Viggo's arms close around him. "Finally." He rests his head against Viggo's chest. "What took you so bloody long?"

Viggo can feel Orlando's words vibrate against his body. Carefully, he reaches for Orlando's chin, lowers his head and brushes his lips over Orlando's.

"I wanted us to be sure," Viggo whispers. "And I wanted you to come to me." He kisses Orlando again. "Like this."

Orlando opens his mouth and lets the tip of his tongue run over Viggo's lips. "Mmmmmm," he hums. "More."

This is when Viggo dives in. His hands cup Orlando's face again, and he presses his lips against Orlando's. His tongue opens Orlando's mouth and delves into the warm, wet cavern.

Their tongues probe and caress around gasps and moans. When the kiss ends, both men are out of breath.

"Come," Viggo says and takes Orlando by the hand. He leads him into the bedroom and closes the door behind them.

They try to take their time undressing each other, hands exploring skin as it is uncovered. Clothes pile up in the wake of their movement towards the bed.

"We're leaving a trail," Orlando mutters in between kisses, and Viggo grins.

Viggo has seen Orlando's sun tattoo before, but he spends a long time caressing and licking it, kneeling in front of Orlando when they're both naked. His hands cup Orlando's buttocks as he caresses the tattoo and licks Orlando's erect cock. He ceases his ministrations after a while and looks up.

"You're as beautiful from below," he says.

Orlando smiles and plays with Viggo's hair. "Get up," he murmurs. And again, "Get up!", a little more demanding, when Viggo doesn't obey, but buries his face in Orlando's groin instead. "I want to hold you again."

They embrace and press their bodies together, trying to get as close as possible. When their cocks rub against each other, Viggo moans and Orlando's breath hitches.

"Do you have -" Orlando whispers, and Viggo stills.

"Shit. No. Not here." He seems a little flustered. "Wait. Don't go away. I will be back in a second." He kisses Orlando once more and leaves the room.

Orlando sits down on the bed, shivering. His patience is wearing thin. But it is a good feeling, a tightening expectation, a building tension begging to be resolved.

He gets up again, removes the bedcovers and lies down, his hand closing around his straining cock. He moans as he thrusts into his fist.

He looks up and sees Viggo standing in the door, watching him. Viggo's eyes are wide and Viggo is hard, too, very hard.

A throaty moan escapes Viggo's mouth, and he grips the doorframe tighter. His other hand clutches the small tube and the condoms he is holding. He can't tear his eyes away from Orlando, lying there on the bed, touching himself, so achingly familiar and so shockingly beautiful.

Their eyes lock, and Orlando reaches out for the other man.

"Come," he beckons again, his voice husky and filled with longing.

Viggo doesn't have to be asked twice. He is over at the bed in the blink of an eye, kneels down next to Orlando and gently removes Orlando's hand from his cock.

"Let me do that," he demands and closes his fist around Orlando's erection.

The contact with Viggo's skin makes Orlando moan and thrust upwards into Viggo's touch. "Yes," he hisses. "Yes, please."

Viggo lowers himself until he is lying next to the other man, never letting go of Orlando's cock.

Orlando leans in for another kiss, which turns into another and another, open-mouthed, greedy, passionate. Orlando is twitching and dripping in Viggo's hand, and Viggo is thrusting against Orlando's leg, rubbing his hard cock against Orlando's skin.

"I want you so much," Orlando moans. "I've wanted you to do this since... I don't know. For ever."

Viggo smiles. "I wouldn't have made it through Helm's Deep without the thought and dream of you. I would never have made it to here without the thought and dream of you." He reaches around Orlando's body and lets his fingers run along the cleft between his buttocks. Orlando's hips buck when Viggo's fingers brush over his opening.

"Please," Orlando whispers. "No more waiting."

Viggo nods and reaches for the lube. "Turn around," he murmurs.

Orlando rolls onto his stomach and spreads his legs a little. He turns his head to the side and squints at Viggo.

"You are nervous." A slight smile appears on Orlando's lips.

Viggo smiles, too, and nods. "Yes."

"Worries?" Orlando's smile broadens.

"Not at all," Viggo says and lets his left hand run along Orlando's back, down his spine and over his buttocks. "Not in the slightest."

Orlando nods and closes his eyes as Viggo kneels between his legs. "Me neither."

Viggo opens the tube and coats his fingers with the clear gel. Spreading Orlando's buttocks with one hand, he rests his other hand on the small of Orlando's back, caressing Orlando's skin with reassuring tenderness. He gently covers Orlando's opening with lube before he inserts one finger, slowly, carefully.

Orlando moans and raises his hips a little, trying to meet Viggo's touch, trying to draw Viggo's finger deeper. "So good," he murmurs. And: "Finally."

Viggo smiles and begins to move his finger in and out slowly, loosening the tight ring of muscle ever so slightly. After a couple of times, he inserts his finger completely and curls it a little.

Orlando tenses immediately and hisses: "God, yes!" Then he relaxes again and squeezes his muscle tightly around Viggo's finger, causing the other man to moan.

A second finger joins the first, and Viggo begins to stretch Orlando's opening, scissoring his fingers again and again. Then, after a while, he inserts a third finger, opening Orlando wider.

"I'm ready," Orlando urges after another minute or so. "Now. Please."

Viggo stills his movements, takes a deep breath and withdraws his hand. "I want to see you," he presses through gritted teeth. His hands are shaking, and a shiver runs through his body as Orlando turns around until he is lying on his back.

Their eyes lock, and Orlando grabs hold of the condom that is lying next to him on the bed. He takes one corner of the foil package into his mouth and tears it open with one hand. His fingers are trembling, too, while he takes the condom from the package and rolls it over Viggo's cock.

Viggo opens Orlando's legs and kneels between them again. He lowers his upper body and kisses Orlando's mouth once more before he licks a trail down Orlando's breastbone, across his stomach and around the sun tattoo. He takes Orlando in his mouth again, and Orlando's hands find their way into Viggo's hair.

After only a few seconds, Orlando tugs at Viggo's hair. "Now, please. I need you now."

Viggo rises and positions himself. He takes his erection in his hand and guides the tip of his cock against Orlando's opening. Both men close their eyes and hold their breath as Viggo breaches Orlando's body. Once Viggo is fully sheathed, Orlando slowly exhales.

"Look at me," Orlando whispers, and Viggo opens his eyes. His world narrows down to Orlando's gaze.

"Breathe." Orlando reaches for Viggo's face and caresses Viggo's temples with his thumbs. "Breathe."

Viggo closes his eyes again and exhales. When he opens them once more, Orlando is smiling at him. "Finally," he mouths, and his body tightens around Viggo.

"I want to move," Viggo murmurs, his arms trembling.

Orlando nods, and Viggo lifts his hips and withdraws almost completely from Orlando's body. He pushes back in, savouring the friction his movement causes, and Orlando's moan echoes his own.

They move together like that until a fine layer of sweat covers their skin, until Viggo's back is glistening and Orlando's forehead and chest are moist.

Viggo is trying to maintain a steady rhythm, but he finds it more and more difficult as time moves on and as their breathing becomes more ragged. Orlando's moans and hisses and Orlando's scent and movements fill his ears, his thoughts, his whole being. He squeezes his eyes shut, and dots of light shoot through the blackness.

"Don't hold back."

Orlando's voice comes from somewhere far away, yet the words reach Viggo in a place he has yet to discover. He thinks there are more words after that, "yes" and "break" and "take" and maybe his name, too, maybe, he isn't sure about that, though.

He lets his body take over, lets Orlando's body guide him, challenge him. His movements speed up until the thrusts of his hips become erratic. Orlando is writhing and moaning underneath him, his breath painting swirling patterns on Viggo's face.

Orlando's hands claw at Viggo's back, drawing him closer, urging him on.

"Come for me, Viggo, please come for me. Make me come, I want to come, now, please. Viggo, Viggo, please, make me yours. Take me, all of me, now, please, pleasepleaseyesplease..." Orlando is panting. Every time Viggo thrusts into him, he moans or screams or hisses, caught in the throes of their passion.

Orlando's words coax Viggo to leave the limits of his body behind. He gives in. He surrenders and allows himself to be swallowed.

With one last strangled moan, Viggo reaches his peak and empties himself into Orlando's tight heat. He feels Orlando shuddering, tensing and then contracting around him. Warm liquid spills between their bodies. Viggo doesn't want this to be over just yet, but he also wants to rest. He longs to rest in Orlando's arms, he longs to sleep with Orlando's warm body and even breathing beside him. He wants this to last for ever.

His arms give in and he collapses on top of Orlando. Orlando's hands caress his back and play with his hair as they both try to catch their breath, exchanging wet, lazy, open-mouthed kisses.

"You undo me, Elf-Boy," Viggo mutters against the skin of Orlando's heaving chest.

"Yeah." Orlando nods and kisses Viggo's hair. "Good."

Viggo rolls off of Orlando and gathers him into his arms. "Thank you."

"Can't stop thinking about tomorrow," Orlando whispers and reaches for the discarded bedcovers.

"Worries?" Viggo asks quietly as Orlando arranges the cover over the two of them.

"No." Orlando yawns. "Not at all."

Me neither, Viggo thinks and kisses Orlando goodnight.

Finally, he thinks.



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February 2012


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