New Year's Eve 2004

The first time Orlando saw Viggo was at a New Year's Eve party. The older man was wearing a charcoal grey sharp suit and Orlando only really noticed him because there was something about him that signalled he was feeling out of place even though he was of age and dress to fit in with most of the other people at the party. It wasn't, Orlando mused, that the stranger couldn't meet and greet with the best of them, but more like this wasn't the kind of party he normally went to and he would have much rather been home. For some reasons it made him feel like the older man was a kindred spirit because Orlando was not only feeling out of place, he was out of place.

Becca, the woman hosting the party, had once been a friend of Orlando's, but that was before her modelling contract and elderly husband, now she was just an embarrassing drunk skeleton who was talking way too loudly, pretending not to notice the glares she got from her lawyer husband's business contacts. Orlando was pretty much the only guest not in formal wear and the waiters were better dressed than him. Not that people seemed to notice, they did in fact not see him at all. Had it not been because he didn't want to be alone at the stroke of midnight, Orlando would have left ages ago; as it was he had spent most of the party curled up in a corner reading a book.

As midnight got closer, Becca hoisted her skinny self up on a table and called for attention with a spoon against her glass. A few people looked up at her but most of them pointedly ignored her. Orlando, suddenly feeling sorry for the person he no longer knew, moved closer to the table and gave her an encouraging smile. He was dimly aware of the man in the charcoal grey suit, looking at Becca from the other side of the table. At least he wasn't the only one who was trying to be supportive.

"Dear guests," Becca said, wobbling slightly in her high heels. "I want you all to remember something. The person you kiss at the stroke of midnight is the one person you want to spend the rest of the year with. So go ahead, kiss someone you fancy and not just the one you should be kissing."

Orlando smiled slightly, his smile turning into an embarrassed grimace as Becca ungracefully slid off the table, flashing her red lacy panties to the entire room. He wondered what had ruined her first: the pressure of being a successful model or the cold world of lawyers her husband belonged to. Wherever he looked, he saw only glares directed towards her. It was clear that Becca was not popular among the snazzy dressed, grey crowd; she was too young, too lively and too gaudy. Orlando felt sorry for her, but knew of course that she only had herself to blame. She had been the one turning her back on her old friends, she had been the one to stop saying hello when they met. An invitation in gold letters for a party did not really make up for that and Orlando was the only one of her old friends in attendance. Not that he had been able to get close to her; she had been surrounded by her modelling friends for most of the night. They seemed to have all disappeared now that she was drunk and embarrassing though and had it not been for the countdown towards midnight that had started, Orlando would have gone to look for her.

As the others chanted ten, nine, eight, Orlando looked around the room, his eyes seeking the charcoal grey suit. The older man seemed to have vanished in the sea of grey though so Orlando grabbed a glass from a passing waiter and gazed out of the panorama windows over the city. Fireworks were already blossoming over the night sky and the sight was breathtaking. He listened with one ear to the countdown, wondering who he would spend the next year with. Ever since his year long relationship with Andy the Idiot ended his liaisons had been few and far between. Lately he'd been missing having someone to snuggle up to though and he wondered if he'd find someone in the new year.

The near ecstatic countdown had reached two when a firm hand on Orlando's shoulder made him spin around to see who was touching him. To his utter surprise he found that it was the man in the charcoal suit that was standing behind him. For a few brief moments they stared at each other before the room broke out in cheers and the man bent down and kissed him. Orlando dimly registered the cheers of 'Happy New Year' erupting around him as the man in the suit pressed their lips together. Had it been anyone else, Orlando would have pushed them away but he couldn't fool himself that he hadn't been wishing for something like this to happen, so instead he kissed the stranger back. He didn't know for how long they kissed, it felt like forever and a second passed before the man pulled away and straightened, giving him a crooked smile.

Orlando found himself completely at loss for what to say, probably for the first time in his life, so he busied himself with downing his glass of probably ridiculously expensive champagne in two huge gulps. It tasted like any other champagne to him, pretty damned awful, and the bubbles tickled his nose. The man in the suit laughed as Orlando sneezed and saved the glass from dropping to the floor when Orlando forgot he was holding it in favour of covering his face.

"Careful," the man said, his soft raspy voice making Orlando shiver inside. It had been months since Orlando last got laid and that voice held such promise. He looked up, a blush covering his cheeks, to find that the man was still smiling at him.

"Happy New Year," Orlando said, returning the smile bestowed on him.

"Happy New Year," the man replied, his smile widening slightly.

"I'm Orlando," Orlando said, sticking out a hand to shake with the stranger.

"Viggo," the stranger replied, smoothly shifting Orlando's glass to his left hand to be able to take the hand Orlando was offering him.

Orlando reluctantly let go of Viggo's hand and glanced around the room to see if anyone was watching them. As far as he could tell no one was even glancing in their direction so he suspected their kiss had gone unnoticed. Not that he cared, but he thought that Viggo might, even though it had all been his idea. The older man looked a little bit too uptight to be officially out, but Orlando had been mistaken about such things before.

"Do you want to come home with me?" Viggo asked and Orlando's head whipped back to stare at him. "I'm sorry if I sound forward and I don't expect anything to happen between us, but this party ceased to be fun two minutes after walked in and I just want to go home."

Orlando blinked. "If you don't expect anything," he said, "Why do you want me to come with you?"

"Because you're by far the most interesting person I've met here and we've exchanged about two words."

Orlando smiled. "So you do expect something, since your entire view of me is based on the fact that I didn't slap you for kissing me."

Viggo chuckled. "I'm not expecting… just hoping."

A surge of desire made Orlando's knees feel weak and he had the feeling that this would be the weirdest one night stand he ever had. Even weirder than the guy with the artificial leg and a poop bag on his stomach; the sex had turned out great but he really would have appreciated some warning. Viggo wasn't really his type, at least not the type he'd been looking twice at up till now. But then Orlando was a bit tired of his peers and their fear of commitment and assholier than thou attitude. Yeah, he was a young and he should live his life, sow his wild oats and all that crap, but he really wanted someone he could rely on. Not that he was thinking of Viggo in terms of commitment, but maybe he needed someone who was older and more stable.

There was no denying that Viggo looked good with his blue grey eyes, square face, clefted chin and scarred upper lip. He was slightly taller than Orlando and had a bulkier build, a perfect match for Orlando's slim frame. The older man's red blonde hair was cropped short and greying at the temples; Orlando found it unbelievably sexy. It wasn't like he was a stranger to casual sex and it had been a long time since he got any, but for some reason he suddenly had an American Psycho flashback and wondered if Viggo wasn't crazy under that calm appearance. He'd always stayed away from men in suits, thinking them to be way out of his league, but he supposed even men of Viggo's stature wanted pretty young playthings.

"Okay," Orlando finally said. "I'll go home with you."

Viggo smiled slightly and put Orlando's glass down on the window sill. "Let's go," he said, not even glancing at the rest of the party to look for the host or the hostess.

Orlando followed him willingly, admiring the broad back as it wound its way through the party with ease.

*~



They took a taxi to Viggo's apartment even though it turned out to be situated only a few blocks up the street in a chrome and glass monstrosity of a building. Orlando rarely ventured to this part of town, preferring to keep closer to the university and the artsy and somewhat run down neighbourhoods around there. The address above the luxurious walk in said Rose Crescent 4 and Orlando glanced at Viggo nervously. Rose Crescent was the address to have in Angel City; everybody who was somebody had a Rose Crescent address and the closer to Number One, the better the address. Four was pretty much as high up in the hierarchy you could come and Orlando bit his lip as they walked into the lobby.

Viggo strode up to the chrome and glass desk where an attentive looking guard was watching them approach; Orlando trailed behind him feeling small and scruffy in the immaculate room.

"Mr Mortensen," the guard addressed Viggo as the older man stopped before the desk, sending a curious look in Orlando's direction.

"Sam," Viggo acknowledged. "So you draw the shirt stick, huh? Having to work on New Year's Eve."

"It's not that bad," Sam said. "At least it gave me Christmas off to be with the kids."

Viggo nodded. "Did Helen appreciate the gift?"

"Oh yes, thanks for the advice. She loved it."

Viggo smiled and turned towards Orlando. "Look up there," he said nodding towards a black ball that Orlando supposed was a camera up on the wall.

Orlando lifted his head and stared up at the camera, wondering how on earth he had ended up here. A small red light alerted him to the fact that his picture had been taken and he looked away.

"This is Orlando," Viggo said as Sam turned towards a high tech looking computer on the desk. "I want him to be able to come and go as he pleases."

Orlando swallowed; coming and going as he pleased sounded like more than one night, but then he supposed Viggo could revoke his coming and going privileges at any time.

"What's you last name, boy?" Sam asked.

Orlando cringed at being called boy by someone who had to be younger than Viggo but smiled nonetheless. "Bloom," he said.

Sam tapped at the keyboard for a few minutes before looking up. "Do you want him to have a card for the elevator?" he asked, directing his question towards Viggo.

"Yes," Viggo said and there was another round of tapping at the keyboard.

"Social security number?" Sam asked looking at Orlando.

Orlando glanced nervously at Viggo, wondering what kind of crap he was getting into, but he spurted off the digits anyway. Somehow he was curious to see where all this would lead. Another bout of tapping ensued and then Sam tilted his head to the side, giving Orlando a sad little smile. Orlando smiled back nervously; as far as he knew he didn't have a criminal record but he did have two citizenships, both the in the US and the UK.

"All clear," Sam said, giving Orlando an encouraging smile. "Welcome to Rose Crescent 4, Mr Bloom."

He pulled out a blue plastic card and pulled it through a slot on the keyboard, tapped a few times and then pulled it again. With a flourish he handed the card to Orlando who accepted it like it would bite him, with all things concerned he wasn't sure it wouldn't. Viggo gave him a brief smile, said "Bye" to Sam and took off towards the elevators. Orlando nodded a goodbye and hurried after him, afraid to be strip searched before he was allowed to enter the elevator. He realized that Viggo was taking quite a risk with giving him access to the building, but on the other hand he now knew that Orlando wasn't a criminal. Maybe this was standard procedure for his one night stands and the card would be terminated the following day.

Viggo nodded for Orlando to pull his card through a terminal outside the stainless steel elevator doors, so he did as he was bidden. A muted ping alerted them as the doors to the elevator on the right slid open. Orlando entered after Viggo, biting his lip nervously as the doors slid shut. He'd never been very fond of elevators and even though this one was luxurious, it was still a confined space.

"No muzak?" he asked to keep his mind off the fact that they were hurtling upwards like a steel shuttle.

"No, it has been turned off by general agreement. Obviously it made the house seem too much like a hotel." Viggo smiled.

"And no buttons to push," Orlando said, surprised by the lack of control panel.

"Emergency stop and the speaker are behind there," Viggo nodded towards a brushed steel door in the panelled wall. "If you want to go to another floor than your own you have to get permission from the main desk. This house is all about anonymity. Only Sam and his colleagues know everyone who lives here and even they have never seen some of them."

Orlando nodded, jumping slightly when the elevator slowed to a stop, holding his breath for the scant seconds that passed before the doors slid open. No ping this time he noticed. They walked out into a spacious hall with only one door; a camera was poised above it and the brushed steel nameplate said V. Mortensen. Viggo got his keys out of the pocket of his woollen overcoat and unlocked the three looks above the handle. He pushed the door open and went inside, Orlando once again trailing behind him.

*~



Viggo didn't offer Orlando a tour of his luxurious Scandinavian themed apartment, so Orlando didn't ask for one. The place was huge though, with lots of space and modern, streamlined furniture. Light birch wood and white dominated in the apartment, giving the place a beautiful yet slightly alien look. Orlando, who loved reading magazines about interior decorations, knew that Scandinavia and white where very hot, so to say, but he had never understood the urge to use too much white; the impression was too clinical for him.

The kitchen where Viggo took him after they had hung up their coats was a thing of beauty though huge and furnished with every cooking gadget known to man, all with the same brushed steel surface. The dominating colors were the same as they had been in the rest of the apartment, white and birch, but in the kitchen it was tempered with Christmas decoration in a bright deep red that gave the room a more welcoming, lived in appearance.

"Would you like some coffee?" Viggo asked, moving over to the counter.

"I would love some," Orlando replied gratefully. Even though there had been a dinner buffet with lots of goodies at the party, they had left before the coffee was served and no meal was complete without coffee. Besides being offered coffee was a lot better than being offered any kind of hard liquor. Orlando had always been a light weight and the taste of hard booze did not appeal to him.

He watched with interested as Viggo loaded the coffee maker that seemed to be as easy to operate as a space shuttle, judging from all the buttons and levers. Soon it was churning safely though, making the normal coffee maker sounds, and Orlando turned his attention back to the room.

"Nice kitchen," he said to fill the silence that seemed to be eating up the air in the room.

"Thank you," Viggo replied. "I designed it myself."

"Oh," Orlando said, looking around with new appreciation. Viggo seemed to be a man of many talents. He turned his attention to a set of black and white photographs in simple black frames arranged on the wall. All of them were portraits but none of them seemed staged. There was a myriad of faces of all ages, colours and sexes looking back at him and even though the signature on them was illegible Orlando did see a prominent V and M.

"Did you take these?" he asked, gesturing towards the photos.

"Yeah," Viggo said. "I love to take pictures, but I rarely have the time anymore."

"They are really good," Orlando said with a smile.

How on earth would he ever be able to live up to a guy like Viggo? Not only was he gorgeous, sexy and rich he was also creative and talented. It felt like Orlando had nothing to offer but his body, but then Viggo didn't really ask for anything else. He watched as Viggo poured coffee in two tall cups, the delicious smell wafting to his nose. Coffee had always been his number one vice; alcohol and drugs had never been his forte and after a lot of hard work and many drawbacks he'd managed to quit smoking, but he wouldn't give up coffee. As far as drugs went it was pretty mild and as long as Orlando didn't drink enough to make him completely jittery, like he did before finals, he was fine.

"You want milk or sugar?" Viggo asked, turning to him.

"No, black is fine, thanks," Orlando responded. He only ever used milk when his stomach started hating him for not eating right and drinking too much coffee. Being a poor student, food was sometimes a luxury, and in periods he ate very poorly. He had always prioritised rent, bills and books over food since finishing school was foremost in his mind. Once he had an education and a job, he could focus on other things, but up until then he'd have to live with being skinny and hungry at times. It wasn't like Orlando starved, but sometimes he didn't eat enough and he knew that a lot of his peers were in the same situation, even though some of them prioritised beer and booze over food and an education.

Viggo came over and handed him the cup. Orlando accepted it gratefully and inhaled the aroma. It smelled wonderful which led him to believe Viggo's coffee was as ridiculously expensive as the rest of his things. Mindful of the hot content he took a small sip, biting back a moan when the taste of perfect coffee exploded over his tongue. It was simply the best coffee he'd ever tasted and he gave Viggo smile over his cup. The older man smiled back, taking a sip of his own coffee.

"Come," Viggo said and walked out of the kitchen.

Orlando followed him, letting the warm cup heat his chilled hands. It wasn't really cold in the apartment, but all the empty space and the whiteness made it feel like that. Viggo led him into a huge living room with floor to ceiling windows looking out over the city. There were still fireworks going on somewhere and even though Orlando couldn't see where they were coming from the sky shifted occasionally from green to blue, to red and back again. The city was really quite beautiful from up here, looking down on everything gave Orlando a feeling of power, like he was more important than everyone else. He wondered if that was why Viggo choose to live up here.

A sudden woosh made him turn around to find that Viggo had lit a fire in the fireplace. The lack of crackling told him it was probably a gas fire or fake logs, but it still cast the room in a warm glow. Viggo sat down on the plush white couch facing the fireplace so Orlando walked over and joined him, sitting down a couple of feet away from the older man and feeling kind of silly. He didn't really know how to behave; somehow the rules had not yet been laid down. Did Viggo want him to take the first step and play the horny little sex kitten, a role that he really had nothing against playing, it was quite entertaining at times, or should he wait for the older man to take the first step? Had this been a normal one night stand, they would have been all over each other in the elevator, but Viggo seemed so far away, like he was as aloof as his gigantic silent apartment. The size of the place made Orlando wonder if maybe Viggo was married. He did have an air of straight guy repressing his feelings, but there was also something about him that told Orlando he was not the type to cheat.

Viggo didn't say anything so they drank their coffee in silence. Orlando wanted to at least get a conversation going, but he couldn't find a subject that didn't sound like snooping so he savoured his coffee instead. When the cup was empty, he gingerly put it down on the glass table, afraid to break anything. Viggo followed suit and the tension between them was almost palpable. In the end it was Viggo who took the first step by moving a bit closer and putting his hand on Orlando's thigh.

It was all it took for the younger man to twist into his arms and soon they were making out on the couch like a couple of teenagers. Viggo was on top, grinding against Orlando while they kissed, making the younger man pant through his nose as his arousal grew. The older man was somehow so sure of himself, knowing exactly how to make Orlando mewl into the kiss. It was liberating to be with a person who had so much confidence and simply took control.

Despite that Orlando got the feeling that Viggo maybe didn't have that much experience with men, yet his caresses never faltered, igniting Orlando's blood until he was afraid he'd combust. He whimpered in a very unmanly way when Viggo lifted his head to look down at him.

"Bedroom?" the older man asked and Orlando nodded weakly.

Once again Orlando found himself trailing after Viggo as the older man got off the couch. He led him up a set of stairs to the upper floor, giving Orlando ample time to admire his tight ass and long legs. Viggo opened a door that was pretty much at the top of the stairs and motioned for Orlando to get inside.

"I'll be right with you," he said, pressing a quick kiss to Orlando's ear before walking further down the corridor they found themselves in.

Orlando walked into the room Viggo had directed him to, a spacious bedroom with the same floor to ceiling windows the living room had had. Here the white and birch had made place for beige and dark brown with red accessories, giving the room a comfy hotel feeling. Looking around, Orlando realized that it must be a guestroom and not the master bedroom. He couldn't imagine anyone having a bedroom so immaculate and devoid of personal things. It was a really beautiful room, but it had no soul.

Orlando looked out over the glinting lights of the city and the harbour some distance away, not hearing Viggo return. He jumped slightly when a pair of arms slid around his midriff, but tilted his neck obligingly when Viggo nuzzled him, pressing his warm lips against sensitive skin. Viggo's tongue came out to taste his neck and Orlando groaned softly.

Still standing behind him, Viggo undressed him slowly, taking his time with every piece of clothing until Orlando was naked and shivering with the fully clothed body pressed up against his back. He looked at the reflection in the glass, seeing the lust in Viggo's eyes.

"You're so beautiful," the older man said, his raspy voice making Orlando shiver. "I guess people tell you all the time, but it's true."

Orlando couldn't remember ever feeling as naked as he did under Viggo's scrutiny, even though the older man was just looking at his reflection. Sensitive, long fingered hands slid over his hot skin, following the trail of Viggo's gaze, pausing to tease a nipple until it stood out like a hard peak, tracing the contours of the tattoo on Orlando's stomach until he was moaning for release, then threading fingers through Orlando's silky black pubes until the younger man was close to coming.

"Please," Orlando begged. "Please, just… fuck me."

Viggo turned him towards the bed, giving him a gentle push. Orlando obligingly crawled onto the dark red satin bed spread, giving the older man a sultry look over his shoulder. The older man bit his lip and deftly undid his shirt, throwing it to the floor. His undershirt followed next before he unbuckled his pants, pushing them down his legs. When Viggo straightened, his erection was plainly visible through his white cotton boxers and Orlando rolled over to his back, gesturing for the older man to come closer. Plain white boxers had always been a bit of a kink for Orlando; there was just something about the purity of white cotton combined with the hard cock underneath that turned him on.

Viggo moved closer to Orlando who was now sitting on the edge of the bed with his long legs spread wide. The older man was eating him up with his gaze, a wet spot spreading over the pristine cotton. When Viggo was close enough for Orlando to touch him, he placed his hands on the older man's quivering thighs, slowly letting them slide upwards. Viggo had the perfect body, muscular yet whipcord lean and Orlando found himself wondering how often he worked out. He pulled the older man closer until he was standing with his knees against the bed and his crotch pretty much level with Orlando's face. Unable to resist the temptation, Orlando pressed his face against the white cotton, inhaling the mingled scent of fabric softener and pure man. With a little groan of pleasure he dragged his lips over the cotton coated hardness, making Viggo groan as well.

Had he not been as worked up, Orlando would have loved taking his time teasing the older man, but as it was he wouldn't be able to wait that long. Looking up, he grabbed the waistband of the boxers and pulled them down. Viggo's cock sprung up, curling towards the flat stomach, long, hard and thick in a way that made Orlando's mouth water. He'd had lovers with bigger cocks, but none of them had had such perfect proportions.

"Gorgeous," he murmured, his tongue snaking out to lick some moisture of the shaft.

"God," Viggo groaned, pushing him away slightly. "You'll make me come."

Without saying anything, Orlando moved up on the bed again, lying down with his head on the pillows and his legs spread wide. Viggo wasn't late to follow, climbing on top of him and claiming his lips in a kiss. Feeling that perfect cock press against his own, Orlando moaned and pulled his legs up, longing to feel Viggo inside him. Without interrupting the kiss, Viggo reached a hand out, opening the top drawer of the nightstand and retrieving condoms and lube. As turned on as he was, Orlando didn't care that such prowess in getting the supplies spoke of countless of other lovers, in fact he wouldn't have voiced protest if Viggo fucked him bareback and dry so it was good that one of them showed some caution at least.

Orlando moaned in protest when Viggo straightened up and leaned back on his haunches, only to lick his lips as he watched the older man pull the condom on and slick himself up. He spread his legs wider in anticipation as the older man poured lube on his fingers, then pulled his knees up and out to expose himself as fully as he could. The first touch of Viggo's slick fingers to his hole almost had Orlando coming in sheer relief, but he managed to hold back with an almost desperate whine.

"Hurry," he gasped as Viggo showed signs of wanting to take it slow. "I'm so close."

Without further ado, Viggo pierced him with two fingers, making him arch off the bed with a moan.

"You ready?" the older man asked after a few moments, desire making his voice raspy and tight.

"Yeah," Orlando responded, reaching out for Viggo as the older man lowered himself on top of him.

Looking into his eyes, Viggo used one hand to guide himself and slowly pushed into Orlando's body.

"Yes," Orlando hissed, closing his eyes in bliss. This was what sex was supposed to feel like, an all consuming passion that erased all thoughts from his overloaded head. For once he didn't think of anything else, didn't worry about living up to expectations or being too vocal, he just felt.

After the initial slow thrust into him, Viggo paused, giving Orlando time to get used to the intrusion, but the younger man would have none of it. He squirmed against Viggo, clawing at the older man's back with his blunt fingernails.

"Fuck me," he begged. "Please…"

His plea ended on a moan as Viggo pulled almost fully out and pushed back in. Pleasure sizzled through Orlando's body, stars going off before his eyes as he tried to hold back at least for a little while. The only sounds in the room were the slap of flesh against flesh and their panted breaths, interspersed with moans. It didn't take much for Orlando to be so close to bursting that he came at the first touch of Viggo's fingers against his rock hard cock. The older man looked slightly surprised as Orlando came in his hand with a wail of pleasure, semen bursting out of him in waves. It was one of the most powerful orgasms Orlando ever experienced, starting in his lower stomach with a deep trembling wave and washing through his body with all consuming power. He dimly registered Viggo's groan of completion and his last few hard thrusts, still lost in a sea of blissful pleasure.

Afterwards Viggo cleaned them both off and pulled the bed spread off the bed, making Orlando roll to the side. Orlando was aware that maybe he should leave, but he was too lethargic to care. Viggo didn't seem to mind as he crept in under the covers and pulled Orlando into his arms. It had been a long time since Orlando felt so content and he feel asleep as soon as his head was resting firmly on Viggo's chest. The awkwardness would have to wait until morning.

By a stroke of luck, Orlando woke up first somewhere around six am. Viggo was still sleeping soundly as Orlando disentangled himself and used to bathroom attached to the bedroom. Once he'd emptied his bladder and had given himself a more thorough clean up he went back into the bedroom. The urge to crawl back into bed was almost irresistible, he couldn't have slept for long, but Orlando decided it was better if he left. Viggo seemed like such a private person and he wasn't at all sure if the older man had meant for him to stay the night. The whole set-up with the nondescript bedroom told him he wasn't Viggo's first one night stand and that he likely wouldn't be the last.

As silently as possible he got dressed and, after giving Viggo one last, long look, he went downstairs. Remembering that he had noticed a notepad beside the phone in the kitchen Orlando went in there. He wanted to write Viggo a note, but he wasn't sure what information to include. Personally he wanted to see Viggo again, but he knew that if he put down his phone number he would be very disappointed if the older man didn't call. It was stupid to set himself up for heartache over a one night stand. Still, leaving his number gave the older man a hint that he would be interested in further meetings.

After debating the issue with himself for far too long, Orlando finally penned down his name and cell phone number together with a simple 'thank you'. He left the note on the kitchen counter next to the coffeemaker, wishing he knew how to operate it so that he could have some more of the perfect coffee before leaving. Then he squared his shoulder and left the kitchen, the apartment and Viggo, faking a smile for Sam downstairs before setting out on the long walk home.





May 2005

As Orlando walked up the street towards Rose Crescent 4 he couldn't believe it had been five months already. Five months of great sex and slowly getting to know Viggo the person as opposed to Viggo the corporate lawyer, even though in a way he didn't know much more about Viggo now than he had done during their first meeting. The older man rarely talked about himself, but was more than happy to talk about Orlando. Whatever Orlando learned about the older man where scraps thrown in his direction like treats to a begging dog.

Yet their Wednesday meetings, always Wednesdays, were no longer as much about sex as they were about Viggo. Somewhere along the way Orlando had made a complete fool of himself and fallen in love with the gentle, caring person that Viggo was. He had told himself in the beginning when Wednesdays were still enough and sex the foremost thing on his mind that he wouldn't let it happen. Back then Orlando had expected their meeting to be fewer and further in between once Viggo had settled his craving for sex with him, but it didn't happen that way and Orlando had fallen in love.

It was stupid to fall for a guy twice his age, one that wasn't even exactly interested in building a relationship with him. Had Viggo wanted more, he would have asked for it, since he was the one dictating their weird relationship. Only once had he asked Orlando to stay over for a weekend; that had been in February and he hadn't asked since. To Orlando it had been a perfect weekend of fucking, talking, eating and fucking some more, but he supposed Viggo preferred him in smaller doses. He knew that if he wanted more, he should ask for more and see what response he got, but he was so scared to push Viggo away. He'd rather have a little piece of Viggo than no piece at all.

As he entered the lobby, Orlando's stomach rumbled, reminding him that he had yet to eat something more than an apple even though it was close to seven in the evening. He was always short on money this close to his self appointed pay day and even though he had money, he refused to touch it in advance. He had maintained the same budget for two years now and he knew that if he started borrowing from himself, he would run out of money before he ran out of education. He had a certain amount of money and he had made a careful budget that allowed few excesses to make sure his money would be enough to take him through university. As often as he could he worked extra shifts at café close to campus to have money for the luxuries in life. Even though it was acutely embarrassing he would have to ask Viggo if he could get something to eat before they had sex or he wouldn't be able to enjoy their interactions.

"Hey Orlando," Sam said from his desk as Orlando walked past him.

"Hey," Orlando responded with a smile. Even though most of the guards treated Orlando civilly, Sam was the only one that was actually nice to him. Most of them must have figured by now what kind of role he served in Viggo's life and a few of them apparently had issues.

"I didn't see you last week," Sam said. "I was afraid the two of you broke up."

Orlando blushed slightly. "Nah, I had a thing at the uni," he lied effortlessly without really knowing why. Somehow it would have felt like a failure, like he wasn't important, to tell Sam that it had been Viggo who cancelled their date.

"Good," Sam said. "Well, have a nice night then."

"Thanks," Orlando said as he walked towards the elevator. He wondered what Sam really thought of him and Viggo. The guard would still be at his desk later when Orlando came down with the money for the taxi waiting outside burning in his pocket. He would be as nice and cheerful then and Orlando would hide his acute shame at being treated like a prostitute. Viggo only sent him home in a taxi to be nice and so that he wouldn't have to worry about Orlando out walking in the middle of the night, but knowing that didn't make Orlando feel any better about it.

The elevator ride hadn't gotten any easier so Orlando took a deep breath before entering the small shuttle. He hated the thing with a vengeance, but even though there had to be stairs somewhere as a fire exit, the thought of walking up the gazillion flights of stairs to Viggo's penthouse held no appeal. He'd rather arrive traumatized than drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. As usual the elevator door opened just as Orlando decided that this time it would hold him hostage forever and he more or less jumped out into the hall. Orlando took a few deep breaths before walking over to the door and touching his finger to the doorbell. His stomach rumbled again and he swallowed in a vain attempt to ease the hunger. He'd been on the move all day without money to buy anything to eat, having plently of food at home was pretty useless when he was out and about.

It only took a few seconds before Viggo opened the door. The older man was as usual dressed in suit pants and shirt, but he'd unbuttoned the top buttons and lost the tie. Orlando couldn't help the tendrils of desire that snaked through his body at the mere sight of his Wednesday lover. Viggo was too gorgeous for words.

"Hey there," Viggo said with a smile. "You're early."

"I was in the neighbourhood," Orlando responded, lifting his face eagerly for the kiss Viggo bestowed on him.

Viggo pulled him in through the door by snaking a hand around his waist and as usual Orlando found himself pressed up against the door as soon as it closed. He had a hard time focusing on Viggo's demanding kisses with the hunger ache in his belly though, so after a few seconds he pushed the older man away. Viggo took half a step back, looking surprised. Usually they fucked once in the hall and once in the bedroom before they got around to saying more than 'hello', 'please', 'fuck', and 'more'.

"Something wrong?" Viggo asked, looking concerned and Orlando suddenly felt stupid.

"No… It's just… I'm really hungry," Orlando answered, looking down with embarrassment.

Viggo chuckled, tilting his head up with a finger under his chin. "I better feed you then," he said with a smile. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Orlando smiled back, looking so deeply into Viggo's stormy eyes that it felt as if he was drowning. He couldn't read the emotions he saw there, concern, lust, patience and something else that slipped away from him as he tried to study it closer. Viggo was the first one to look away, bending forward to give Orlando a quick kiss, before he turned on his heel and walked towards the kitchen.

Somehow Orlando got the feeling that he'd been rejected and for a brief moment he contemplated walking out never to come back again. Viggo had too much power over him, power that he had let Viggo get over him. He gave Viggo everything he asked for, yet Viggo gave nothing back. Oh, he was sweet, gentle, caring and wonderful, but he wasn't personal. Sometimes Orlando wondered if maybe he wasn't the only one. There could be someone for every day in the week, or there could just be one partner who Viggo cheated on once a week and the odd weekend. Even thinking about it tore Orlando up inside; he wanted to be the only one.

"Are you coming?" Viggo asked as he reached the door to the kitchen and realized that Orlando wasn't trailing after him like a lovesick puppy.

"Yeah," Orlando said, forcing a smile and squaring his shoulders. He could deal with whatever secrets Viggo had as long as he still had a piece of him, not having him at all would be infinitely worse.

Orlando sat on the counter of the kitchen island as Viggo made him something to eat. He'd put something that smelled delicious in the microwave and now he was preparing some vegetables to go with the food while Orlando watched him.

"Do you like to cook?" Orlando asked to fill the silence.

"Yeah," Viggo said, giving him a smile over his shoulder. "But it's always nicer to cook for someone else."

Orlando smiled back, letting his eyes caress Viggo's hands as he sliced a ripe tomato into pieces. He loved Viggo's hands; they were so strong and sure. It was like the older man only ever used the exact force necessary to do something, always in complete control of himself.

"I wanted to be a chef when I was younger," Viggo suddenly said. "And have my own restaurant. Well…" He flashed Orlando a smile. "I still do sometimes. My dad wanted me to have a real job though and an education, so I applied to law school and here I am."

Orlando didn't think it sounded like Viggo liked the place he was in at the moment. He didn't exactly know what the older man did; only that it had something to do with corporate law. He did know that Viggo always seemed to be working though, a couple of times he'd cancelled because he had to work and a few times their time together had been interrupted by important phone calls.

"Why don't you quit your job and buy a restaurant then?" Orlando asked lightly.

"It's not that simple," Viggo said. "No one in my family has ever been something as simple as a chef. It would give my father a heart attack for sure."

"But if you're unhappy with what you're doing, you shouldn't let him dictate your life. It's the 21st century, we don't do that shit anymore."

Viggo swivelled around, glaring at him. "What about you, huh, sitting there so high and mighty. Doesn't your family ever try to pressure you into doing something you don't want to? Don't you do things you would have rather not to keep them happy?"

"My family," Orlando said icily, "Is dead."

Viggo blinked, his face falling. "I'm sorry," he said, putting the knife he still had in his hand down. "I didn't know."

"It's okay," Orlando said with a shrug, biting his lip to keep the wave of sadness he knew was coming at bay. It had been three years but it still hurt just as much.

"How long ago was it?" Viggo asked, not even twitching when the microwave beeped.

"Three years," Orlando said, keeping his voice level. Even though he talked about them with his therapist once a month, it still hurt so much to think of them that he almost couldn't breathe.

"Was it sudden, I mean…"

"Accident," Orlando cut him off, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he could taste blood. He wouldn't cry in front of Viggo, he refused to. "They… Mum and dad and my sister… they…" He took a deep breath. "They went to Turkey on vacation. They asked me to come but I didn't want to and… they never came home. She was only eleven…" Unbidden tears welled up in Orlando's eyes and he looked away in shame.

"It's okay," Viggo said softly, moving up to him and taking him into his arms. "It's okay to miss them."

Orlando slid off the counter to be able to hide his face against Viggo's chest. The older man just hugged him hard, rocking him slightly back and forth as he wept. It was the first time Orlando had gotten the hands on comfort he needed so badly, the strong secure arms that wrapped around him and told him everything would be alright. Andy the Idiot had left the room if Orlando happened to cry and he hadn't been close enough to anyone but his therapist to cry on front of them since then. He had friends of course, but they weren't really close. In a way Orlando was scared to get too attached because so many of his old friends had disappeared in the face of his sorrow.

After a while the tears subsided and as he raised his head from Viggo's chest, Orlando realized that he felt much better. It was like a weight he hadn't even been aware off had been lifted off his chest. He suspected his therapist would be very happy with him when she saw him next, since she was the one that kept telling him to let go of the pain.

"I got snot all over your shirt," Orlando said hoarsely, looking at the stain on Viggo's chest with horror.

The older man looked down and laughed, reaching out for some kitchen paper. Instead of wiping his shirt though he gave it to Orlando who gratefully blew his stuffed up nose.

"I'm sorry," Orlando said. "I don't usually lose control like that."

"No, I'm sorry," Viggo said. "For being so insensitive and for knowing you for this long without having a clue about such a vital part of your life."

Orlando smiled slightly. "I don't talk about it much," he said. "Still hurts too much. It's getting better though." He untied the scarf that was wrapped around his wrist and pulled up the sleeve of his shirt, showing Viggo the scar that traced his vein from the wrist almost to the elbow. "It's not that bad anymore."

Viggo took his arm and pressed a kiss to the scar. "I'm glad," he said.

"You probably read about the accident. A bus full of tourists that ran off the road up in the mountains… Everyone died."

Viggo nodded. "Yeah," he said softly, pressing another kiss to the scar. "If it was my parents, I probably would have gone a little crazy too."

Orlando smiled; he found himself wanting to tell Viggo about his family. About his dad who loved to read, about the little watercolour paintings his mum used to make and about Christie and her imaginary friend Loofa the pony.

A few minutes later as Orlando sat down to eat, he found himself doing just that and Viggo listened patiently, asking all the right questions and laughing at all the right places. It was the best night Orlando had ever spent at Viggo's and they didn't even have sex.

To be concluded in part two!