ÿþ<HTML> <HEAD> <Title>His Space was Growing Inwards</title> <STYLE TYPE="text/css"> <!-- BODY { font-family:verdana; font-size:9pt; } Table { font-family:Verdana; font-size:9pt; color:6600cc } --> </style> </head> <BODY link="#0000ff" bgcolor="#6699ff" bgproperties="fixed" background="http://www.shapefive.com/matan4il/background.png" text="#663399" alink="#ff99ff" vlink="#cc99ff" > <br> <P> <center> <table width="760" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="10"> <tr> <td width="760" height="430" bgcolor="#A192FC" align="center" valign="middle"> <img src="http://www.shapefive.com/matan4il/fics/images/hisspace.jpg"> </td> </tr> <tr> <td width="760" bgcolor="#ccffff" align="left" valign="top" style="font-family:verdana; font-size:9pt"><font color="# C97DDF"> <b>Pairing:</b> Le Viggorli<br> <b>Summary:</b> AU in which Orlando doesn't recover right away from falling off the roof.<br> <b>Genre:</b> A fic of fragments. I hope you'll trust me.<br> <b>Disclaimer:</b> Definitely didn't happen. Check out the hospital records and you'll see.<br> <b>Rating:</b> Overall, NC-17 because I'm greedy, even when I'm writing.<br> <b>Warnings:</b> Well, a man fell off a roof. You can expect some form of angst or another.<br> <b>Beta:</b> I get to thank and adore the most wonderful Soar38, who gives me love and calls me petal!<br> <b>Banner:</b> Is the generosity and patience of my lovely, smoochable CJ!<br> <b>This chapter is dedicated:</b> To Bohemianbeauty, who lives up to her name in every single thing she does, to the sweetheartness who is Marylou_gr, as well as to Celebelai and Tiary, who have been wonderful support in posting this fic.<p> 71<br> Orlando wants to show Viggo the book that he and Safi have been writing together. He sends regards from Chris and Mary first, says Safi has been missing Viggo like crazy, explains how he's been off medications and reassures him that Scott has been good. Viggo nods and says he could see that for himself. That it's astonishing, really, considering it's not been that long. Only eight months, right? Wow, eight months...<p> And he nods his head gravely to himself.<p> There's new unease between them, but all Orlando knows is he wants to collect Viggo's hands into his own and kiss his the inside of his palms.<p> 72<br> "I'm glad to know you're better." Viggo says, pours over the table the coins for his bill and it's obvious he's about to leave.<p> Black stars are sparkling inside Orlando's eyes.<br> He can't get up, can't walk away.<br> Eight months, almost a new life in this world.<p> He's shaking, his interior if not his exterior, but he sends his hand and holds Viggo's. No reaction? He joins it with another and pulls the pair to his lips.<p> 73<br> Wounds and kisses.<br> Thanks to three things the world stands, Orlando thinks, and two of them are wounds and kisses.<p> 74<br> Viggo's eyes are confused, praying.<br> Orlando offers no explanation.<p> Little moons twinkle in his smile when he leads Viggo by the hand from the café where they were sitting, to a cab that will drive them to his small apartment.<p> 75<br> When their lips meet, they can't part again.<br> Orlando drinks in Viggo with the fire of a man drowning for the past eight months. He physically <br> Cannot let<br> Viggo<br> Go.<p> He fumbles for the keys in his pocket and something falls out.<br> He tries to lean over without losing touch with Viggo, but it's awkward and their noses bump together. Out of breath, they laugh. Then, forehead against forehead, they pant.<br> Orlando moves over and picks up the keys. He opens the door to his apartment and lets Viggo in. He closes the door behind them, but doesn't want to turn around and see this coveted image dissipating like the Delishoons do when he's willing to be left alone for the night.<p> 76<br> Viggo comes up from behind, he can feel the heat of his breath, leans into the man and shudders when a tongue licks the skin that his attention was turned to by Viggo's proximity.<p> He leans further back, exposing the full length of his neck to that wicked tongue, grinds against private, unknown but dreamt of lower regions.<p> Viggo's explorations turn deeper and his hands slip under Orlando's golf shirt, feeling their way as a sculptor would but are molded by the flesh they meet into adoring tools of worship. He flicks over the large nipples he finds while biting lightly into Orlando's shoulder. A growl escapes and it's the end for many of the clothes they're wearing, a frenzied search for the taking down of all barriers having no mercy on any material.<p> They struggle their way into the living room, where the bed stands, and they tumble down across it, curious hands meeting organs and melting into them on every brink and twist of a torso.<p> Finally, Orlando reaches out for a bottle of lube in a drawer beside his bed. He smiled at the label, which was meaningless up until now, that declares the cherry flavor of the material contained within it. Using his tongue, he draws some of the lube from the bottle into his mouth, without swallowing, and goes down on Viggo, caressing and spreading the lubrication all over his lover's erection.<p> His lover.<br> He thinks it for the first time.<p> 77<br> His lover pulls him away and kisses him, lube and some pre-cum mangled in Orlando's mouth and passed into Viggo's, before they're again flushed, stomach against back and the space that lay dormant within Orlando for so long is spread open by Viggo's hands.<p> Orlando does let a sound out, not a mutter. His gasps grow inwards, from his mouth through to his throat, down his spine and to the spot where he and Viggo are connected, where motion starts and sweeps them both into it.<p> It's not as relentless as Orlando can take and he mumbles, "Harder, harder!" when Viggo grants him his wish. Orlando can feel his sweat when he grabs for the bed's posts to hold on as Viggo's pace further increases and grunts mix up with moans. Desperation is in the air, along with the scent of the seed that howls its way out of Orlando. Viggo clutches him and spurts into his lover the liquid that will later drip down Orlando's thighs, when they part.<p> For now, despite the awkward position and Viggo's exhausted form leaning into him, Orlando won't allow it to move away, not wanting to miss the feeling of the new body, its trembling, its implicit trust in Orlando's strength to carry both their weights until it recovers properly.<p> Orlando would laugh with happiness, but the moon is big and round in the window, almost as big, round and shining as it is within him.<p> <b>To be continued...</b><br> <center>~ <a href="hisspace10.htm">Chapter ten</a> ~</center><br> <center>~ <a href="hisspace12.htm">Chapter twelve</a> ~</center><br> </font> </td> </tr> <tr> <td width="760" bgcolor="#ccffff" align="center" valign="top" style="font-family:verdana; font-size:9pt"><font color="# C97DDF"> <a href="http://www.shapefive.com/matan4il/feedback/hisspace11/hisspace11.htm">This fic's feedback page</a><br> </td> </tr> </table> <script src="http://www.google-analytics.com/urchin.js" type="text/javascript"> </script> <script type="text/javascript"> _uacct = "UA-3647019-1"; urchinTracker(); </script> </body></html>