A Flock of Peanuts

by Vivi

It was the cruelest way to be woken from deep, beautiful sleep. Cacophonous sound waves attacking his eardrums like a snarling pack of wild dingoes, and it must've been hell, cramming dogs like that into the elevator.

The logic in that thought made even him pause, and Viggo groaned aloud and rolled over, away from the sound. He was so fucking tired his head ached, pressure swelling in his sinuses. Not even a pillow over his head would muffle it and the only thing that could make it worse would be....

Fuck. It was worse. He wondered if it was possible to suffocate yourself with a pillow, and if so, if he could do it before this song ended because hearing a song by The Who at this hour was bad enough. The added backup vocals were more than any human could be expected to endure.

It was finally decided amongst his sluggish brainwaves that if he was going to get any sleep, he was going to have to do something about it, and Viggo pulled the pillow away long enough to say, "Orlando, for the love of God, shut the hell up!"

Orlando was at the foot of the bed, folding what looked like a pile of boxer shorts. He gave Viggo a lofty glare. "I happen to like this song."

"So do I, which is why I want you to shut up."

"I'm an Elf, I have a lovely singing voice!"

"Orlando, I've heard chalkboards with a better singing voice than you. It's more like the mating call of a flock of Styrofoam peanuts."

Any other time he might have expected the pounce, would probably even have been able to roll Orli beneath him and bite a row of bruises down the side of his neck before he could wriggle away. But he was so fucking tired, achy, whiney tired and he didn't stand a chance against Orlando's solar- powered brand of energy.

"If you want me to shut up, then why don't you give me something else to do?" Words carried on a low, moist breath into his ear and it almost made up for the blaring stereo. Almost. Viggo shook his head weakly and tried to push Orli away with a floppy-armed shove.

"I'm too tired," he groaned.

"So what? All you have to do is lay there."

So he did, drifting in and out of sleep with Orli snugged up behind him, all warm shuddery skin and breaths, ticklishly playful hands and tongue, and he thought he dreamed a little, something about laying in the sun only the light behind his eyes was dim and reddish, like an old photograph. He woke up a little more and sighed a vague protest when Orlando finally pushed inside him, one deep, inexorable movement.

Slow, rocking thrusts, Orlando was barely moving, his hips arching forward and back in delicate circles, and Viggo wasn't even hard, too tired to do more than sigh and relax, and when Orli finally moaned behind him and came, the only barrier between them was a thin layer of sweat and sleepiness, and Viggo smiled a little and drifted and felt Orlando breathing evenly behind him.

-finis-

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