Dissonance

by Vivi

Strange things were happening, stranger than usual, Orlando knew. Things felt a little off, a little wrong in a way they hadn't before. 

He and Lij who had always sassed off without a qualm to Viggo, and had taken their punishments accordingly were finding themselves tiptoeing around him. Not afraid, not any more than they ever were, but there was something about his eyes, a tightness to his mouth that was demanding caution. 

Since the Incident with Sean. That's how it always looked in his head; capital letters of the Incident and that had been fucked up, somehow. Orli'd known it since Sean answered the door, but he hadn't done anything about it. Hadn't wanted to know, maybe, easier to believe everything was right and Viggo had looked ...

Wrong. Brilliant. Sexy. But wrong. 

Now Viggo was a little wrong, not horribly but enough for Orli to notice. That time on set when he'd been smoking and Viggo had taken the cigarette away, not, as Orli had first thought, to crush it out but to take a drag off it himself, inhaling deeply and then coughing the smoke back out in little bursts, like someone who hadn't smoked in years. Like the person he was. 

He'd handed the cigarette back just as calmly as he'd taken it, and that was wrong too, because Viggo had never actually ordered him to quit smoking, but the idea was there. 

Just a little wrong, a little off, but in the darkness of his room it mattered a lot less, with Viggo snugged in behind him, the rough denim of his pants abrading Orli's naked and already abused arse, whispering softly, liquor-dark voice, "Let me hurt you."

An order, and he'd understood it as one, nodded dumbly anyway. 

Because it turned him on too, more than he wanted to admit, and it wasn't long before he was begging for the gag, and it was a relief to have it, something to cling to. Sharp lines of pain whinging up his arse, not daring to see what Viggo is beating him with, harder than he ever has before and Orli can only hope that he doesn't draw blood, not too quickly, because then it would end. 

Until he was shaking, sweat dripping off of him and his throat raw from choking on his own screams, and the pressure of Viggo shoving inside him is almost a distant second. Almost, fucking him without any benefit of lube, fucking him raw, fucking him up, on and on. 

But Orli never asks him to stop.

Being wrong should always feel so fucking right. 

-finis-

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