Troppo

by Vivi and Nienor

He woke up cold, the blankets twisted around his hips, exposing his back to the aching chill. Elijah shimmied back under them only to find it was too late; he was already into the greater portion of being awake.

Blinking, he scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, still in that moment between dream memories and reality. The empty bed next to him clicked the pieces into place, and Elijah sat up, wincing involuntarily as he was forcibly reminded of events that had taken place before he'd fallen asleep. Strange how different things had been without Orli there, all soft-eyed and smiles, and wiseass remarks that he was never quite willing to pay the price for making. Elijah had never really thought about how much he watched Orli, because, hell, if you were watching Orli then you were watching Viggo, and Viggo was fucking well worth watching.

The half-hearted burn of jealousy was nothing compared to the view and watching Viggo spank Orlando, the flex of muscles in his arms, the expressions on his face, made it well worth the effort of watching, even without being told.

Thinking of Viggo...where the hell was he? Elijah squinted at the room, only able to make out dull-edge shapes in the darkness. He supposed any one of them could be Viggo; he'd taken his contacts out earlier and his glasses were still in a bag in his trailer, the bag he'd neglected to grab when Viggo had dragged him out of there.

It made him that much colder to just remember the expression on Viggo's face when he'd told him. He'd scampered back down the hill, skidding through a virtual river of mud, barely able to spit the words out in an order that made sense. And Viggo... had turned to stone, rain dripping slowly from the brim of his hat over unblinking eyes that had made Lijah think absurdly of Bilbo's trolls. He'd stood there for a long moment, until Lijah nearly repeated it, almost believing he hadn't said anything at all, that maybe he'd only thought he spoke or dreamed it, and if it weren't for the rain, he'd wonder if the world had stopped moving.

It didn't, and apparently he had, because Viggo had started packing up his gear calmly, attaching the hook to one of the metal rings on the rod and winding it taut, packing up his little chair and net. Neat and precise as anything Viggo did, and Lij had always thought Viggo was a bit of a neat freak for an artist; god forbid that he or Orli not put something back where it belonged.

Good way to piss Viggo off; he had never forbidden them to touch his things, his photos of the two of them had always been free game, but you fucking well better put them back in order, or Viggo would give you that look, lips pinched and the corners of his eyes crinkled into a glare.

Sometimes, he knew, Orli had put one out of place deliberately, just to see if Viggo noticed, or maybe because he just wanted to piss him off. Maybe Orli felt tight in the stomach and the balls to see that pissy look, too. At least Lij had always thought Viggo was pissed at those moments. He wasn't so sure anymore.

A soft thump from the living area and a glow from underneath the bedroom door betrayed Viggo's whereabouts. Lij scrubbed sleep out of his eyes and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, dragging the sheet with him and draping it over his shoulders like a poncho. It trailed around his legs as he shuffled across the floor and opened the door, squinting against the light.

Viggo sat sprawled across the couch, not reacting when Elijah pushed the door open. He wore only his shorts and a pair of ragged house slippers; a bottle of something amber was propped against his crotch and his fingers fidgeted with its lip. He'd thrown his tee-shirt over the lamp, muting the light and tinting it red.

Elijah slipped out, not entirely sure he was doing the wisest thing; the faint scent of liquor that reached his nostrils made him wary. "Viggo?"

Viggo's eyes flickered towards him, but otherwise there was no response.

"I'm sure Orli's fine, Viggo." Elijah felt lost, like he was a little kid trying to comfort a parent.

Viggo tipped the bottle up and took a slow swig, adam's apple bobbing.

Elijah considered for a moment, then moved forward. "Can I have a swallow?"

Viggo extended the bottle, expression unmoving, and Elijah accepted it and took a mouthful of straight, harsh liquor. It made his eyes water, but he swallowed without complaint.

He handed the bottle back, pulling the sheet tighter around himself. The shades were open, giving a view of the city skyline that was muffled by low-hanging clouds and rain, turning a sparkling vista into a cottony panorama of dull, haloed glows.

Elijah wandered over to the patio doors and looked out through spatters of rain. Puddles jumped and danced on the concrete, and the eaves dripped in the downpour. "Wonder what Orli's doing," he murmured. The sudden thump of the bottle against the floor startled him and he turned back towards Viggo to find him watching him.

"Elijah. Come here." Low, rough tones, and Lij shivered. Viggo's voice had a hell of an effect and it was one of the things that made him such a damned good actor. Even an order could be coated with a dark sinuousness that made the thought of disobeying unimaginable, the sound blanking the mind so that limbs moved of their own accord, and Lij found himself in front of Viggo.

The sheet was clutched loosely in his hands, just starting to slide off his shoulders. Viggo caught the sides, using the fabric to pull Elijah forward until he was standing between Viggo's knees, looking down at him. This close, he could see Viggo's face with only the mildest blurring around the edges, and his eyes were clearly visible, a mixture of the blue-green palette.

"Elijah," Viggo's voice, still dark and velvet-cool. "Shut up."

It stung, but lightly, the mild throb of a mosquito bite and Elijah nodded briefly. He started to step back, figuring on going back to bed but Viggo hadn't let go of the sheet and didn't seem in a particular rush to do so. Instead, he pulled harder, stretching the fabric tight until Lijah lurched forward and spilled gracelessly into Viggo's lap. Strong arms manipulated him, easily, shifting his limbs until he was straddling Viggo, the pressure of the sheet still wadded into Viggo's hands holding him still.

Elijah started to say something, a question resting on the tip of his tongue and he only just remembered not to speak. A little hesitantly, he rested his chin on Viggo's shoulder, and then more confidently when he wasn't rejected. The tip of his nose was touching Viggo's ear, little strands of hair tickling and Viggo smelled like whiskey and sweat and shampoo.

He wasn't sure how long they sat like that, long enough that he started to warm, his bare chest pressed against Viggo, moving together as they breathed, Viggo's hands resting on his hips with the folds of the sheet still clenched tightly within them. His legs were starting to fall asleep and Elijah squirmed, trying to head off the annoying tingle before it began. Instantly, Viggo's hands were at his back, the sheet drifting lower when he released it and draping over his hands clenched at the small of Lij's back.

"Hold still," Viggo hissed, "Just shut up and be still!"

Viggo's hands slipped lower and challenged Lijah again, carrying the sheet with them as Viggo cupped his ass in both palms and kneaded the muscles. Every line on his ass from his earlier lashing burst into renewed flames and Viggo found each one unerringly, like he'd memorized the maze of welts while he was applying them, and fuck, he'd been vicious.

Not that he'd never been cruel before, and Lijah usually relished those times, Viggo's cold, calculated brutality could make him harder than a blowjob. This time it hadn't been as satisfying, and he knew why. They hadn't heard from Orli or Sean, but the phones were out all over, signals blocked by slicing rain and they were probably fine, holed up somewhere out of the rain. Not hearing from them didn't mean dick right now, but for all that Orli wasn't here, he sort of was. Hanging there between them the whole time, this silent, strange Orli that they didn't talk about.

It fucking sucked.

"Orli likes whiskey," Lijah offered, softly. "He'll be pissed he didn't get any." Viggo stiffened beneath him.

"If you don't shut up," Viggo's voice was almost breathless now, strained with intensity, "I'm going to do something both of us will regret."

Elijah couldn't resist. "What?" he asked, very softly.

Viggo growled, eyes flaring to flame, and snatched his feet right off the ground, lunging off the sofa and out of his self-pity. Elijah gasped, clutching at his shoulders; Viggo hauled his ass back into the bedroom and flung him on the bed so hard he bounced.

Viggo's hard lean body descended on him, the impact driving all the air from Elijah's lungs, and his whiskey-bitter mouth crushed Elijah's lips brutally. "Goddam you, fucking... little... CUNT!" Viggo bit his lip savagely. "Shut the FUCKING... HELL... UP!" His hands locked around Elijah's wrists and forced his arms over his head; his heavy body held Elijah's thighs apart.

Elijah whimpered, refusing to fight; he went limp, letting Viggo spend his fury.

Viggo shook him like a rag doll, and his head whiplashed so that he nearly bit his tongue; he gasped, fingers curling into fists helplessly. "Orli could be DEAD," Viggo shook him savagely again, "or letting that GODDAMNED FUCKING--" as quickly as it had come, his rage seemed spent; Viggo rolled off Elijah and turned away.

"Go back to sleep." His voice was so harsh it was almost unrecognizable.

"He isn't. And he isn't," Elijah whispered, licking a trickle of blood where Viggo's teeth had cut his lip.

"What the hell do you know about Sean?" Sharp and cold as ice.

"I know about Orli," Elijah returned, crisp and stubborn. "He learned his lesson last time. What do you know about Orli?"

"Enough." Viggo's voice was hard and brittle. "He fucked around on me-- on us-- once. He'll do it again."

"He fucked around on you." Elijah tasted the words slowly, adrenaline racing; he knew he was walking the razor's edge. "And you think he'll do it with Sean. That's what pisses you off. Not me. Not even being scared he's not OK. That's what fucking pisses you the hell off."

Viggo's arm came around so fast Elijah never saw it coming; stars exploded in his head, startling him for a moment, and he didn't understand what had happened until the pain filtered in dully several seconds later and he realized he was no longer upright. "Elijah!" Bright panic in Viggo's voice. "Oh, holy fuck, Lijah." Viggo's hands gentle on his arms, then ginger on his face.

Elijah blinked hazily at him, trying to get the ringing in his head to stop, trying to understand the broken torrent of words. "Jesus, Lijah, you wanna call the police? I didn't mean... Call them. I'll call them. I shouldn't have. I'm not ever drinking anymore, all right? I didn't mean to do it. Lijah, do you need a doctor?"

"'M all right," Elijah managed to mumble through the cotton fiber packing his brain. "No cops. No doctor."

Viggo's hands again, thumbs tugging at his eyelids; Viggo's face hovering over him, anxious and shame-filled. "Never again, Elijah. Never. It was the fucking whiskey."

"Damn right, never." He was recovering slowly. "You do, and I'll leave your ass." He struggled to sit up and Viggo helped him. "Next time you need therapy I'm sending you to a shrink," he grumbled. "Ow."

"I'll go get some ice." Viggo hustled out and returned with a wet towel in his fist, closed around a double handful of ice; he laid it against Elijah's temple. "There. Hell, Peter's gonna tear me a new one." He was perfectly sober except for the lingering scent on his breath, eyes miserable and haunted.

"I'm telling him I got in a bar fight with a guy over a girl," Elijah temporized. "This time." He held Viggo's eyes for a moment, till Viggo dropped his, ashamed.

"There won't be another." When Viggo raised his eyes again, Elijah could read his heart and his resolve in them, and he nodded, accepting the promise. It wasn't like Viggo made a habit of doing this kind of shit every time he got mad. If he did, Lij and Orli both would've been in the hospital a dozen times so far.

"Why the hell don't you lie down?" Lij muttered. "It's fucking cold, and this isn't helping." He lifted the ice off his face for a moment to demonstrate.

Viggo hesitated, then lay down behind him like he was fine china, cradling him gently and pulling the blanket and coverlet over them both. Elijah sighed softly and licked a trickle of ice melt from the corner of his mouth. Viggo nuzzled softly at the back of his neck.

"Orli's gonna be all right. And if he's screwing around with Sean, I'll take a pop at him myself," Elijah murmured.

"Don't..." Viggo's voice was choked, his hand stroking Elijah's side almost fearful and Elijah caught it, threaded his fingers through Viggo's. He pulled Viggo's hand further down and let it rest low on his belly. Fingertips stroked hesitantly, light as a breath against him and Elijah sighed and squirmed, pressing his ass against Viggo's crotch.

He felt Viggo catch his breath, the soft bulk of his cock firming against him and Elijah sighed again, this time hopefully. Viggo was still more than a little drunk but that was at least an encouraging sign that he wasn't out for the night. His head still ached a little but it wasn't enough to distract him; he'd taken his fair share of lumps during filming and he sure as hell wasn't going to have both a headache and a hard on to try and sleep through.

"Lijah..." Close to his ear, more of a moan than a word, and Viggo flexed his hips, his cock snuggling into the cleft of Lij's ass. One long, smooth glide, and Viggo's tongue was wet against Lij's ear, slipping over the whorls and dips before he pulled the lobe into his mouth and sucked gently.

"Ahhh..." Elijah groaned, squirming, Viggo's fingertips flicker-soft as they slid down his side to the back of his knee, stroking the tender skin softly. His other arm moved carefully to rest under Lij's head like a pillow, his arm curving to hold Lijah against him. Beneath the toasty warmth of the blankets, they moved slowly together. Viggo had never been so tender with him, his mouth hot and adoring on his neck, kissing a path down his shoulder.

His hands stroked lovingly, worshipping Elijah's skin, his tender nipples, the curve of his hips. Every touch was like an apology, until Elijah was ready to beg for him to stop, to just hurry up and fuck him, but Viggo seemed just as determined to draw it out. He slithered lower, a remarkably graceful movement all things considered, and Elijah barely had time to realize what he was going to do when his hot mouth wrapped itself around his cock.

"God!" Elijah choked out, jackknifing around Viggo's head, and, fuck, his mouth just about melted around him, his tongue making slippery little circles over the head of his cock. Narrowing his eyes, Elijah could just make out Viggo's profile, watching those blank features sucking him too surreal to manage, so he dropped his head back against the pillow.

Fuck, Viggo was incredible at this, made him and Orli look like fucking amateurs, and he did it so rarely, gracing blowjobs like they were fucking Christmas presents, which made it all the better. He wound his fingers warily into Viggo's hair and earned a devastating hum of pleasure that nearly gutted him. Too damned good, and he felt Viggo shift suddenly up to his knees, the change of angle and pressure almost enough to drag his orgasm kicking and screaming from him.

Elijah shook his head restlessly, arching and trying to push Viggo away. "Wait," he breathed, and when Viggo didn't respond, a little louder. "Wait...I'm gonna...stop, please!"

"I want you to," Low and dark, the cool touch of air on his wet cock making Elijah gasp. "I want to taste you." Viggo's tongue slipped over the tip of his cock, decadently hot, tracing the ridge of the head. "Please, Elijah... I want to taste you."

The shock of a single word made Lijah's eyes fly open and he stared blankly at the dark blur of the ceiling while everything in his head slid sharply into focus; Viggo on his knees before him, debasing himself? Elijah blinked, sinuses stinging. He didn't want that, not like this.

"Man, you're freaking me out, here." That got Viggo's attention; he lifted his head guiltily-- and it discomforted Elijah even more. "No, I mean, do that if you want to, but don't do it because you feel guilty or something." He was aware he was babbling, and his cock was decidedly annoyed with him; maybe the smack upside his head had done something to his brains.

"Lijah." Viggo's voice was wry. "When I roll over and let you fuck me, then you can worry about me feeling guilty. But right now.... shut up and let me finish."

That sounded very good; that sounded more like the Viggo he knew, and his cock approved too, because Viggo's hot mouth slid back down over it, hard and wet and tight, teeth touching him with consummate skill.

Elijah moaned and let himself go, pressing against Viggo's strong hands but unable to lift and thrust into his mouth. Viggo hummed softly and that pushed him over the top; he writhed, losing hold of his makeshift ice pack. It flopped onto the floor and burst open, sending half-melted ice cubes skittering all over the carpet, but he didn't give a fuck; Viggo's mouth was warm and sweet and hot and he spilled into it helplessly-- Viggo was in control after all, milking him with expert precision.

When he finished, he looked up, waiting till Elijah met his eyes, and then licked his lips-- predatory, but somehow tender.

"You swallowed!" Elijah accused him, and Viggo's eyes widened with false innocence.

"Didn't I say I wanted to taste you?"

"But... but..." Lij sputtered and Viggo grinned. He moved to sprawl over Lij, holding most of his weight on his elbows and shifting until they were nose to nose.

"Was there a rule that said I can't swallow from time to time?" he asked archly, "Or are you just upset that I stole it from you? Making demands, are we?"

"N... no." Lijah looked up at him through half-closed eyes, arching up and groaning as Viggo thrust against him leisurely, his hard cock sliding easily next to Lij's spent one, still too sensitive for the touch and craving it anyway.

"You taste good," Viggo whispered, eyes closed and he sighed deeply, rocking their hips together. "Hot and bitter, but you know that. You love to taste yourself, don't you, cunt? Yeah, you love it. You like licking up come, like a little cat," Viggo crooned, and he bit off a sound, deep and rough in his throat. "Off the floor, out of my mouth. You'll even lick it out of Orli's ass and beg for more, won't you? Won't you?" he insisted, catching Lijah's wrists and pinning them gently to the bed.

"Yes! Fuck, Viggo!"

"No, I think I'll fuck you," he nuzzled against Lijah's throat, his hands sliding unhurriedly down Lij's arms and sides, catching him under the knees and folding Elijah's legs over his shoulders.

Lijah was still slick from earlier and Viggo slid in smoothly, one long deep thrust. "Oh," Viggo said, his voice catching, hips rocking in slow, uneven circles. "You feel so..."

The shrill peal of the telephone next to their bed cut him off and they froze.

"Ow," Lij commented on the second ring, but Viggo was already in motion, pulling roughly out of him and lunging for the bed table.

"H'lo." He managed to sound like he'd been awakened from sound sleep. Then his face changed, tension and worry freezing him. "Yeah? Where? It did? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. He is? Well, I.... yeah. Yeah, he is." Viggo gave Elijah an uncertain glance; Elijah forgot the pain in his head and scrambled up to take the phone. "Well, you keep your head down. Both of them, you hear me? It shouldn't be too long. Tell that fucker-- Orli? Orli? JESUS FUCK."

Viggo slammed down the receiver. "Lost the fucking signal. It wasn't too damn good to start with."

"What the hell happened?"

"Landslides-- they're trapped on a highway between two. Took shelter in a house with some old lady." Viggo glared at the phone, which failed to ring again. "Goddammit, stupid bastard didn't give me the shit-sucking number."

"Did he sound OK?"

"So far. He said Sean's being a prick."

Elijah sighed and bit his lip. "Well, yeah, when isn't he?"

"Not often," Viggo muttered. He looked down ruefully and sighed. "Let's get some sleep. He might call back in the morning."

"I would have thought a phone call from Orli would stiffen your resolve, not wilt it," Lijah commented innocently.

"Shut up, little cunt."

-finis-

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