The one who cries Silvery Tears (obvmluver) wrote in orlando_slash,
The one who cries Silvery Tears

Then and now 1/1

Title: Then and now
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: R, methinks
Summary: A tiny sparkle of light in the middle of clouds and rain led to something wonderful.
Warnings: Cursing, yelling...
Disclaimer: I don't know the them, nor do I make any profit.
Archive: My memories, so PLEASE DON'T STEAL.
Author’s Notes: This is caused by a plot bunny bite. It created an itch that couldn't be scratched without writing it. Phew. I also want to thank littlegreenleaf who beta read this for me and kindly pointed out mistakes I had made. *luvs ya to bits*

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Wellington, New Zealand 2000

As soon as Peter called ”Cut!” Orlando ran. He wasn’t feeling well. He was freezing, he could barely uncurl his fingers from the fists and he had a cold. He wasn’t feeling well emotionally either. He was home sick, desperately in love and frustrated. Slumping down to a chair in the catering tent he hugged himself. Being Legolas and getting the part in the first place was a strike of luck but Orlando didn’t feel so lucky when he was drenched to the bone, in clingy clothes, pretending to be someone who doesn’t feel cold. He couldn’t breathe through his nose and he had a cough. He also was tired. He wanted to sleep but knew he’d have to be awake for at least two hours more. The thing was, though, Peter didn’t know he was sick.

Viggo, who had snuck in to the empty catering tent, did. He had seen Orlando suppressing sneezes for a day or two. He had also seen Orlando panting; the small puffs of air visible in the coldness escaped his lips. All because of his nose. Lurking in the shadows Viggo walked nearer. He stopped dead on his tracks as Orlando sneezed loudly and reached for an apple on the table. “You should be out, Aragorn.” Orlando spoke softly.

“How the hell did you know it was me?”

“I heard your footsteps, Vig. You aren’t very graceful as you walk, you know.”

Viggo scratched the back of his head knowing Orlando was right. When in costume it was impossible for him to move soundlessly. The sword he currently carried made a small clinking sound in the rhythm of walking.

“But really, you should be out there. Don’t worry about me. I just came to fetch something to eat.”

“An apple hardly helps.”

Orlando rose to his feet throwing the partially eaten apple to the tent wall. “What do you want from me?” Icy blue eyes fixed with stormy ones. Orlando swallowed, his vision swimming. He was now certain he was running a fever. “Isn’t it enough that you’re playing with me? Doesn’t it satisfy you enough? Why do you have to keep it going?” A coughing fit hit Orlando making him sway. His knees gave out on him and he fell back to the stool. “Would you leave me alone? Please?” Orlando knew he was pleading now but he wasn’t willing to admit he was about to cry. The others had thought of him being a pussy for moaning in pain when he cracked his ribs. It had been a joke around the cast. He didn’t want to be the center of another joke.

“What are you trying to prove?” Viggo asked laying a warm hand on Orlando’s shoulder. It made the younger man shiver, partly because of the change of temperature and partly because he desired the other man.

“Broken ribs were a common joke around here. Do I want to hear all that bullshit from you lot again? No!”

“It shouldn’t be a joke, if you’ve got a cold...” Viggo spoke and Orlando’s eyes shot up in alarm. He was busted. “...Nor should the broken ribs. I wasn’t laughing then, Orli, and I’m not laughing now.”

“Then why are you here, watching me being weak?”

“Have you noticed that this is the first time this night we are alone? I’ve tried to find a way to be alone with you since the shooting for the night began. And you’re not weak.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“I thought you wouldn’t... Would you believe if I said I’m so glad we are here now, shooting Helm’s Deep?”

“What does it have to do with anything?”

“You can’t run away with the hobbits.” Viggo said warmly tracing Orlando’s high cheekbone with his open palm.

“What would I be running from?”

“Not what. Who.”

Orlando dropped his head in shame. Viggo wasn’t supposed to ever know he had feelings for him. “Orli. How long?”

“Since forever, I guess. You weren’t supposed to know.”

“Why not?” “Look at us! That’s why!”

“Why? Really. Why?”

“Who would want a kid, someone like me?” Orlando looked back up and he had tears in his stunning eyes. “Vig. You deserve so much better, someone who’s more like yourself. I’m nothing like you!”

“Let me be the judge of that, okay? Because it’s you I want.”

“But for how long, hmm?” Orlando scrambled up and fell against Viggo. “Because if you want me, then you have to want forever, too. I’m not an easy piece of arse like the hobbits have continuously accused me of being. If forever isn’t what you are looking for, then you better let me go now.” Orlando tried to pull himself free to test if Viggo let go but strong arms kept him in place.

“I couldn’t let you go. It would hurt too much and believe me, I’m not fond of pain.” Viggo smiled and looked at Orlando. “Would you mind if I kissed you?”

“I would, Vig. You’ll catch the cold!”

“Screw that...” Viggo chuckled. “I’m going to kiss you anyway.”

“You wouldn’t dare. You’ll be disappointed. I mean, I...” Orlando’s rant was cut short when a pair of moist and warm lips covered his. “Ooohh, I dare kiss you because you taste like the dew early in the morning. It’s a taste I can’t get enough of.” Viggo spoke against Orlando’s lips feeling how they quivered. “And I don’t give a damn if I get a cold from you. At least I’ll know who gave it to me.” Viggo pulled back with a smirk. Orlando felt the blush covering his cheeks.


Sandpoint, Idaho, USA 2008

Orlando stared outside through the window nursing a steaming cup of tea in his hands. He was wearing woollen socks and a woollen shirt he had nicked from Viggo that morning. It was oversized but he loved the shirt. Viggo came down the stairs drying his hair. Throwing the towel over the nearest door he asked: “Have you seen my sh...” turning around. Sneezing loudly, and startling Orlando, he made his way to him. “You’ve stolen my shirt.” He growled sliding his hands under it.

“Am I in trouble for that?” Orlando asked, a smile playing on his face. He sniffed and sneezed making Viggo laugh.

“I think the cold is enough of a punishment for you.”

“You’ve been bad to get the same?” Orlando asked looking over his shoulder and pointing at Viggo, who was fighting against another sneeze, with his mug.

“Yes, very bad.” Viggo growled again. “You see, it’s hard to behave well when you love a lovely and naughty man.”

Orlando grinned before bursting out laughing. Typical of Viggo to say something like that. “Makes me do all kinds of wicked things...Like...” A well placed kiss was pressed on the hollow of Orlando’s throat. The next one to his earlobe. “Tasting you...” Viggo grabbed the neckline and pulled Orlando’s shoulder free. “Worshipping you...” Next Viggo gently pushed aside shower damp, long curls and buried his nose in Orlando’s neck. “Loving you...” Viggo grabbed the hem of the shirt and lifted it up to Orlando’s armpits. He kept it there while bending down to the small of Orlando’s back. He touched the soft, exposed skin with the tip of his tongue at first and then started licking upwards making Orlando shudder and nearly become undone. The long lick over the scar turned into a kiss between the shoulder blades.

“Tease...” Orlando choked out.

“That I am. But you love me,” Viggo grinned.

“Yeah, I do love you,” Orlando admitted and laughed.

Later that day they ate Christmas dinner. Viggo had roasted a turkey; Orlando had baked a raisin cake. Together they had made vegetable soup, rye buns, salad and salted fish. The three lit candles illuminated the table and their faces. Warm eggnog they enjoyed as a dessert with the raisin cake also made them feel better. This was the first Christmas ever they both were ill. They had figured out a way to enjoy it too. Sharing a bubble bath, quiet talks under the cover in bed and cuddling close on the couch were just a few things they did.

They also exchanged small gifts. To an outsider their gifts may look meaningless but to them they meant a lot. Orlando gave Viggo a seashell for he knew Viggo loved the sea. Viggo gave Orlando a white, smooth stone he had taken to the jewellery store to be drilled. It was something he had found on the ground while filming Appaloosa. Now Orlando could add it to his already extensive collection of items on his necklace. They shared a long kiss before carrying the dishes to the kitchen washing them, putting the left-over food into the fridge and returning to the living room. They sat down to the couch and wrapped a fluffy blanket over them. Life was good. Really good.

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