Lady Croft (zebraljb) wrote in zebraljb_fic,
Lady Croft

Two in the Morning, 1/1, NC17, Viggo/Orlando

So, I wrote this for Musiquephan (sorry, can't remember how to tag other users anymore) because she asked for VigOrli. It's not my best work, because Josh kept interrupting, but yeah. It's based on the NKOTB song "Two in the Morning."


“Baby, m’home!” Viggo called as he entered Orlando’s townhouse. He sighed and kicked off his shoes. The phrase “no place like home” had special meaning today. It had been a horrible day, tons of interviews, busy busy busy, but he felt like nothing had gotten accomplished. “Orli?”

“In here.”

Viggo followed his lover’s voice to the small den. Orlando was curled up in a tee shirt and sweatpants watching TV. “Mmm, hi there.” Viggo leaned down for a kiss, and Orlando offered him his cheek. Viggo kissed the smooth skin, but frowned. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Orlando stood. “I just have a lot on my mind today. Chinese okay for dinner?”

“Uh, sure,” Viggo said, scratching his head. “What a day. I’m gonna take a shower. Whatever you order for dinner is fine.”

“Okay.” Orlando headed for the kitchen and the drawer where they kept all the carry-out menus.

“Unless you want to join me.” Viggo leaned in the doorway, a sneaky smile on his face.

“Not really. I already showered.” Orlando pointed to his damp curls and smiled a little. “Thanks, though.”

Viggo’s frowned deepened. He couldn’t remember the last time Orlando had refused to shower with him. “Um, okay. I’ll be upstairs.” He slowly turned around and plodded to the steps, his shoulders hunched.

When Viggo was finally back downstairs, the Chinese food had arrived, and Orlando was back in the den. “How was your day?” Viggo asked politely, picking up chopsticks and a plate.

“Fine,” Orlando shrugged. “Did some shopping, made some calls.”

“Sounds busy,” Viggo teased.

“Not as important as YOUR day, I’m sure, but I got things done,” Orlando said, and Viggo drew back as if he’d been slapped.

“Orlando, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. What are you talking about?” Orlando flipped channels and stopped on a documentary. “Everything’s fine.”

“Sure it is,” Viggo said, making sure to exhale and count to ten before leaning back. He kept his plate on his lap and ate with one hand, putting an arm around Orlando’s shoulders with the other. Orlando leaned away, putting his weight on the arm of the sofa. “Orlando…”

Orlando’s cell phone rang and he grabbed it from the coffee table. His face lit up. “Hey, Bill! How are you, man?” Orlando put his plate down and left the room, chatting a mile a minute.

“Fuck.” Viggo threw down his chopsticks, appetite long gone.

I know you must’ve had a long day, ‘cause at six o’clock I heard you say there was something that was on your mind, but you ain’t told me and it’s almost nine. Now it’s nine o’clock and I thought we could talk, but you ain’t givin’ in, girl …will this ever end? Girl, it’s almost ten, gotta know if you’re mad at me before Grey’s Anatomy, ‘cause we could drag this out all night, until it’s two in the morning, girl, what do you wanna do, do you wanna fight? Wanna say goodnight, if you tell me you want it, this could be over…

The evening continued in this downward spiral until Viggo was so frustrated he wanted to pull out what little hair he had left. He followed Orlando around the house like a puppy, trying to get him to open up without acting like someone’s mother. Orlando insisted everything was fine, answering Viggo in brief one-syllable snaps that finally sent Viggo into his studio to paint.

As Viggo angrily slapped paint on a canvas, he ran the day through his head, trying to figure out where in the world he’d gone wrong. He had talked to Orlando in the morning, in the car on the way to the interviews, and everything had been fine. Orlando had promised him a lavish dinner to be followed by a scrumptious dessert of Orlando Naked in Bed, and the day could not have moved slower after that. They hadn’t spoken again, so Viggo could NOT figure out what he’d done to make Orlando turn into this ice sculpture of a man.

They’d been together eight years, and Viggo thought they were in that place where they could talk about ANYTHING. They got on each other’s nerves, because that’s what couples did. Viggo liked things organized and mellow and controlled. Orlando liked things haphazard and spontaneous and crazy. Their opposites melded together to make a perfect combination, or so Viggo thought. Unless Orlando didn’t think that way anymore.

Viggo’s paintbrush froze in mid air. Maybe Orlando didn’t feel the same way. “Good God,” Viggo said out loud. What if…what if he’d found someone else, or wanted out?

Viggo took the paintbrushes over to the sink and washed them out, deep in thought.

Viggo followed the sounds of the TV up to the bedroom. Orlando was in bed with a bag of chips, a habit of his that Viggo hated and Orlando knew it. “Hey,” Viggo said hesitantly. “I was…was gonna go out for a bit. Grab a beer. Want to come?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Orlando said, licking salt from his lips. “Have a good time.”

“I’ll try.” Viggo started to leave the room, then came back in. “I love you,” he said, his heart in his throat as he bent down to kiss the curls he loved.

“You, too,” Orlando said, his eyes never leaving the television.

Lights are out, don’t wanna wake you so I’m creepin’ in…I know you’re hurt, cause baby, you’re not sleepin’ in my favorite pair of boxers that you make look so hot girl…girl, you play asleep but I know that you’re not, and now it’s twelve o’clock and I thought I should talk, but girl, you’re not listening. Here we go again, you know I like it when you got your back to me, but not when you’re mad at me, please look at me and say goodnight…

Viggo crept into the bedroom, an eerie light cast by the flicker of the muted television. Going out had been a big mistake. He sat at the local bar for almost three hours, nursing a few beers and brooding. He had never been the kind of man that felt the need to change himself for the person he was with. It was one of the reasons his marriage had broken up. He was Viggo, he was what he was, and if the person didn’t like it, then they weren’t going to work out. He had always thought the quirks and oddities in his personality only made Orlando love him more…at least that’s what Orlando had told him. Viggo had always felt a little shocked that Orlando had picked him, even after all these years. Orlando was like an angel on earth, an angel that left dirty dishes in the sink, spread clothing all over every flat surface, and swore like a sailor when Viggo sucked his cock.

Viggo watched the lights flicker over the face he loved. Orlando was curled into a tight ball on his side, still wearing the sweatpants but without a shirt on. Viggo sighed and kicked off his shoes, trying not to make too much noise, though he was fairly certain Orlando wasn’t really sleeping. Viggo stripped down to his boxers, the plaid ones that Orlando normally stole and kept for nightwear. Viggo sat on the bed, but didn’t lay down. He mentally willed Orlando to roll over and talk to him, but his mental telepathy apparently wasn’t up to par. Viggo sighed again, running a hand over Orlando’s thick curls, down his spine and over his backside. He felt Orlando stiffen.

“I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you.” Viggo’s voice was raw and scratchy in the silence of the room. “You loped across that set, all blond hair and elfin grace. “Hey, m’Orlando, but you can call me Orli,” you said. I remember it as clear as day.” Viggo swallowed hard, sure now that Orlando wasn’t sleeping. “I worshipped you for months. Never let you know, you know, because I was a dirty old bisexual man and you were this breath of fresh air that loved on everyone. When you finally saw it, when you looked at me and I KNEW you knew? I was scared to death. I was scared to death of the way you looked at me. Scared that you would run over my heart and move on. And then you fell in love with me and I could show you what you meant to me, and you never moved on. You just stayed.” Viggo shook his head, unsurprised by the tears that filled his eyes. “You stayed. I was so scared…the most scared I’ve ever been in my life until now.” He wiped at his face. “I know you want to leave, and I can let you go. I’m not sure what made you change your mind, but if you…”

Orlando sat up suddenly. “Leave? I’m not going anywhere, unless you’re kicking me out!”

“Then what’s been going on today?” Viggo stared at him. “You built a ten-foot wall in between us in a matter of HOURS, Orlando. You’ve NEVER been like this. What was I supposed to think?”

“You’re crying.”

“No shit, Orlando…I’m about to lose everything I ever wanted…excuse me for having a breakdown.” Viggo glared at him.

“YOU’RE the one that wants out!” Orlando shouted. Viggo gaped at him. Orlando rolled his eyes and got out of bed. The nightside lamp blinded Viggo as Orlando dug through a pile of magazines and newspapers on the floor. “This. Remember this interview?” Orlando waved a magazine in the air.

“Vaguely…” It was some independent publication that had done a story on what they called “renaissance” celebrities, people who were talented in a variety of mediums.

“Let me refresh your memory.” Orlando snapped the pages like a whip as he flipped to what he was looking for. “Viggo Mortensen seems totally at home with the life he’s created for himself, though he’s never married again. When asked about his romantic life, the actor simply smiles. “I have someone waiting at home for me…have for years. They’re always there, taking care of things, waiting for me. They work, you know, but the best part is that they’re waiting, making my house a home when we’re together.” Really, Viggo?” Orlando flung the magazine at Viggo, who ducked just in time. “THAT’S all I mean to you, after all these years? Sure, I’ve been working when I can, but apparently the only thing I’m GOOD at is being your housewife!”

Viggo shook his head, trying to clear it. “That’s what you thought I meant? That’s not it at all…I was trying to bring across how thankful I am for you…that you’re the rock in all the other crazy things going on. Coming home to you is just that…coming HOME. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing.”

“When I read this today, Viggo, it broke my heart. I couldn’t BELIEVE you…”

“Orlando, this is insane. Crazy.” Viggo carefully approached him, one hand out, like he was trying to touch a wounded wild animal. “Calm down. I don’t…I…I would never see you as something like that. You’re more than that…more than I deserve. Every damn day I’m thankful to still be waking up next to you. Not for what you do, for what you ARE.” Viggo reached out and touched Orlando’s shoulder, and Orlando didn’t move away. “I cannot believe something like this would set you off. What else is going on?”

“I didn’t get that part,” Orlando muttered, and Viggo froze. “One of the Musketeers? I didn’t get it. They gave me some other part. Like the old man or something.”

“I doubt that,” Viggo said with a gentle chuckle. Orlando allowed Viggo to gently rub his arms. “I know you wanted that, Orli, and I’m sorry.”

“I was already feeling old and washed up, and then I read that, and I just felt…not good enough.”

“I am very, VERY sorry that you thought I felt that way about you,” Viggo whispered. “If I’d had known it would come across that way…I’m so sorry.” Orlando began to sniff a bit. “And you’re so good enough. Too good. Too good for me, too good for a stupid Musketeer. Look into the other part, okay? It could be something way better than you think.”

“I’m sorry…” Orlando blinked hard. “I cannot believe I treated you this way today. I can’t believe you didn’t run away screaming.”

“It was rough,” Viggo admitted. “I didn’t know I hurt you. Forgive me?”

“No.” Orlando shook his head and wove himself into Viggo’s arms.
“Forgive ME.”

“Baby.” Viggo held his boy close, burying his face in his curls. “God…I missed you today. It was like…I can’t even tell you.”

“I hate myself right now,” Orlando said in a small voice. “I thought this whiny diva side of me was long gone.”

“He pokes his nose out now and then,” Viggo said, and Orlando stepped on his foot. “It’s okay. Make it up to me.”

“How?” Orlando tilted his head up and Viggo gave him the first real kiss they’d shared since waking up that morning.

“You promised me dessert…something about you and naked?”

“Oh, that,” Orlando said, a devilish glint in his eye. “It was supposed to come BEFORE dinner, actually, I was going to just be waiting up here naked.”


Orlando recognized the sexy growl in Viggo’s voice. He turned off the television and stripped off the sweatpants. He shoved all the bedding to the floor, and crawled up on the bed. “Like this,” Orlando purred. He stretched out flat on his back, arms up over his head.

“That does look like a sweet dessert,” Viggo admitted, pushing off his boxers.

“You look…interested…” Orlando writhed a bit, looking at Viggo’s hard cock.

“Is this something anyone can order, or is it the special on the menu?” Viggo bent down and planted a line of kisses from Orlando’s right ankle to his belly button.

“Just…for you…” Orlando almost squeaked, his hands running over Viggo’s head. “Thought I’d get your opinion on it.”

“Delicious,” Viggo murmured against Orlando’s chest, his tongue working a dark nipple into a tight peak. He slid back down and took Orlando into his mouth.

“God,” Orlando gasped, rolling on his side and floundering for the bedside drawer. The turn of his body drove him deeper into Viggo’s mouth, and Viggo moaned. “Want you…wanna love you…apologize…”

Viggo let go of Orlando with a loud slurp and crawled back up his body. “If you want to grovel…who am I to say no?”

Orlando flipped them both over, giving Viggo a hard fast kiss before coating his fingers with lube. “I am so…so…sorry,” he whispered, his fingers slicking inside of Viggo. Viggo arched his back, legs bent out slightly. “I really am.” Orlando nipped at Viggo’s neck. “I just want to drive…” Three fingers went inside, “…that point home.”

“Fuck me now,” Viggo ordered, and Orlando laughed. Viggo’s hands fumbled for the lube, covering Orlando’s cock.

“Stop…or I’ll never get to REALLY apologize,” Orlando hissed. He pushed inside of Viggo, loving the welcome heat that met his thrust.

“Oh, GOD, you’re forgiven.” Viggo’s hands scrambled on the sheets as his eyes fluttered shut. Orlando propped himself on one arm, hips thrusting in a steady motion as his other hand cupped Viggo’s face. Viggo moaned and opened his mouth to Orlando’s fingers, sucking them in one by one.

“Love you only you never leaving,” Orlando promised, kissing Viggo’s chest.

“Love you, too, sorry I hurt you,” Viggo wrapped his arms around Orlando, pulling him as close as possible.

Orlando reached between them, stroking Viggo’s cock as best he could. Viggo let out what could only be described as a whine, his hands digging into Orlando’s slender waist. “Come for me, baby,” Orlando whispered.
“Let go…”

“Orlando…love you…” Viggo gasped, his orgasm shooting from his toes to the tip of his cock.

“Love…” Orlando slammed into Viggo three more times before collapsing into Viggo’s slick chest.

They panted for breath, Viggo’s arms wrapped tight around Orlando. “Better never offer that particular dessert to ANYONE else,” Viggo ordered, and he felt Orlando chuckle against his chest. “I think that should be taken off the menu.”

“And here I was going to put up flyers in town advertising it,” Orlando said, and Viggo tugged on a curl.

“Never do this again.” Orlando looked up at the serious sound of Viggo’s voice. “Don’t let things fester like this all damn day. You should have called me. I would have gotten out of whatever I was in and talked to you. I can’t…I can’t do this, have you hating me without reason.”

“I didn’t hate you,” Orlando said, then sighed. “I won’t. We can’t go until…” he glanced at the clock, “…two in the morning without discussing this sort of thing. Never again.”

“Okay.” Viggo slid Orlando off of him and curled up around him.

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