Viggo shut off the television, the logo for the Screen Actors Guild Awards fading into a pinpoint on the screen. He set the remote control on the nightstand and reached into the drawer. He removed a small tube and placed it beside the remote. Then he settled back to wait.
He waited perhaps an hour. Soon, he heard the sound of voices outside in the hall. Anticipation tightened his gut. He folded his hands over his stomach, waiting quietly as he listened to the door open. More voices before the door slammed shut. Orlando burst into the room, laughing.
The sight of that handsome face creased with a boyish grin made Viggo's heart stutter. God, but Orlando was beautiful. But Viggo let none of what he was feeling show on his face. He had a rather important point that needed making.
"Viggo, you should have come with us!" Orlando told him, excitedly. He was still wearing his unusually conservative black suit, but Orlando, being Orlando, had loosed the blue tie so it hung like a lariat around the opened collar of his dress shirt. "You should have seen Ian get drunk! He was fucking hilarious. Started singing some damned--"
"Orlando, be quiet."
The younger man's mouth slowly closed, his grin fading. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"Who was it that was sitting on your left side during the show?" Viggo asked.
Orlando knit his brows. "I dunno. One of those seat-fillers. You know, some woman who volunteered to take your place so the chair wouldn't be empty. I wish you wouldn't have begged off--"
Viggo waved a hand impatiently, cutting him short. "I mean, besides her. Who was that young man?"
A mischievous grin tugged up the edges of Orlando's mouth. "Oh, *him*. Why, he was Ian's date, if you could believe." Reading the expression on the other man's face, Orlando shook his head. "Oh, really, Viggo. You don't actually think--"
"I saw you hugging him. The cameras all caught it."
"Well, of course I hugged him. His lover just won a bloody award, Viggo." Orlando sighed in exasperation. "Don't tell me you're jealous, for Christ's sake. He's--he's too damn pretty for my taste."
Viggo made a show of looking Orlando up and down. "I like pretty," he murmured.
Orlando blushed. "Well, that may be what *you* like. I, on the other hand, like my men a little rougher around the edges. Rather like you, I suppose."
"You suppose?"
Viggo resisted the urge to smile. It was difficult when all he wanted to do was pull Orlando into his arms and smother him with his mouth. Forcing his voice to keep its stern tone, he said, "So all night you were sitting between Sean and this young man and you're telling me nothing happened? Nothing at all?"
A touch of defensiveness appeared on Orlando's face. "Of course nothing happened. I don't sleep around, you know."
"Maybe I don't know," Viggo replied challengingly. "Maybe I need you to prove to me again that you belong only to me, Orlando."
Spots of color bloomed on the younger man's cheeks. Viggo watched with interest as Orlando's thick lashes fluttered over his eyes. "How do you want me to prove that?" the younger man asked quietly.
Viggo felt himself swell beneath the silk robe he wore. He watched as Orlando's eyes fell to the rising bulge. Orlando licked his lips nervously. "Stay where you are," Viggo ordered huskily. He slid off the edge of the bed.
Orlando waited obediently, his eyes on the floor, as Viggo came up to stand before him. Viggo was close enough to touch, but did not. His breath stirred Orlando's hair. "You know I don't like anyone else touching you," he murmured. He studied Orlando's profile, tracing the beloved features with his eyes. He reached up and ran his finger down the side of the other's man cheek. Orlando's skin was soft. Viggo wanted to lick it. "The only one who may touch you is me."
"Only you," Orlando agreed, his eyes still on the floor.
Viggo's finger curved around the stubborn chin and lifted. "Look at me." The wide brown eyes with their impossible fringe of lashes gazed up at him. Trust and love warmed the depths. "You belong to me, Orlando. Do you understand what that means?"
Orlando always hated this part, being treated like a child. It was precisely why Viggo insisted on repeating it. The spark of defiance that lit the younger man's eyes was irrisistible. It made Viggo ache with the need to bend Orlando to his will.
"I know what it means," Orlando ground out. His hands curled into fists until, with visible effort, he forced them to open and hang loosely by his sides. "I belong to you. No one may touch me. I'm yours."
But his sing-song response held a touch of mockery. Viggo smiled faintly. This was going to be fun. "Take off your clothes," he ordered. "But leave on the tie," he added as Orlando reached for the piece of blue silk.
Uneasiness made Orlando hesitate, but beneath Viggo's watchful gaze, he began to strip. He made it a show, as Viggo knew he would. Orlando was nothing if not an exhibitionist. Viggo didn't mind. The young man had an enticing body, lithe and smooth. He enjoyed it as Orlando revealed each part with excruciating leisure. Let him tease. After all, Viggo thought with an inward smile, what goes around, would most definitely come around.
Viggo's arousal threatened to push apart the panels of his robe by the time the last article of clothing had dropped to the floor at Orlando's feet. Viggo walked a slow circle around the younger man, admiring the view presented to him. Orlando was turned-on by the scenario. His erection stood tall and firm against his stomach as Viggo paused to study him.
Beginning to tremble a little, Orlando raised his hand. "Viggo--"
"You know you're not allowed to touch me yet," Viggo reminded him, moving out of range. When the hand lowered, Viggo stepped forward once again. He sought Orlando's eyes. "This excites you, doesn't it?" he said in a low voice.
A bite of the lip. "Yes."
"You like being reminded that you're mine, don't you?" Orlando shut his eyes, unwilling to answer. Viggo just smiled. "It's all right. We have time, Orlando."
The younger man shivered as though imagining what was to come. It pleased Viggo. He'd discovered that Orlando had a very vivid imagination. It came in handy when it was Orlando's turn to lead. But Viggo used it against him when it was *his* turn to call the shots. He leaned forward, placing his lips against the curve of the younger man's ear. "What are you thinking of, hmmm? Are you picturing what you think I'm going to do to you?" His fingers brushed the length of swollen flesh between Orlando's thighs. "Imagine this, Orlando: by the end of this night my cock will be buried so deep inside of you that you'll feel it in your throat. *That's* what I'm going to do to you."
A shudder passed through Orlando. His cock pulsed, a pearl of liquid beading at its tip. "Oh, Jesus, Viggo," he said beneath his breath.
"But before that happens," Viggo continued, circling once more, "we're going to have a little fun, first."
He stopped behind Orlando and brushed his lips back and forth across the vulnerable bare nape. Muscles rippled across Orlando's shoulders as he fought to remain still. With a touch so light it was nearly a suggestion, Viggo dragged his lips down the curve of the younger man's spine. As he moved slowly down the slender back, he watched the fine hairs lift in response to the sensation.
Viggo dropped to his knees, his eyes level with the taut curve of Orlando's buttocks. His hand slid reverently over the firmly muscled flesh, cupping it. He squeezed just slightly and when the flesh gave way beneath his fingers, he could not help himself. He leaned forward and gently bit.
He heard a muffled moan from above. Viggo smiled and rubbed his stubbled cheek against the pale flesh. He rubbed until the friction turned Orlando's skin pink and the younger man's body shifted restlessly.
Viggo stood, the front of his robe damp now with arousal. When he faced Orlando again, the younger man's face was bright with color and shiny with sweat. Though they had not been touched, the twin nubs of his nipples were as tight as pebbles.
"Put your hands on the bed," Viggo told him.
"Don't play with me this time," Orlando suddenly pleaded. "I just--I don't think I have the stamina tonight. Please, Viggo."
If it hadn't been for the awards show and what he'd seen on the T.V., Viggo would have relented in an instant. He wanted nothing better than to cut to the chase and sheath himself in Orlando's heat. But although he hated to admit it, he'd felt threatened tonight. He needed to establish, at least in his own mind, that he and Orlando were inseparable.
In a firm voice, he repeated, "Put your hands on the bed." When Orlando didn't move, he grabbed the tie still hanging around Orlando's neck and tugged, leading the younger man to his place.
Frustration weighted every move as Orlando bent and braced his hands atop the bed. "Then just fuck me and get it over with, won't you?"
Viggo stepped behind him and untied the sash around his robe. He let the silk fall in a puddle around his feet. "You have a very dirty mouth on you," he commented lazily as he stroked the firm curve of Orlando's hips. "As punishment, I'll have to extend everything that I'd planned on doing to you."
Orlando dropped his head. "Bloody, hell, Viggo--"
Viggo stuck his finger in his mouth and liberally coated it with his own saliva. "I'm tired of hearing you curse, Orlando. It's time something more pleasant came from your lips." He allowed his moistened finger to run down the small of Orlando's back and slide between the crease of his buttocks. He found the tightly puckered flesh there and gently pressed the tip of his finger inside. "Let's see what other sounds you can make..."
He slid his finger in up to the knuckle and watched as Orlando threw back his head and arched his body. Orlando was tight around him. Viggo pushed another finger carefully inside, rotating his fingers in the clenching heat. He pushed forward, delving, until he came upon the secret spot. Orlando suddenly moaned, pushing back onto the fingers that impaled him.
"Ah, Viggo, don't tease," he gasped.
It was the last thing he should have said, for it simply encouraged Viggo to do just that. Pumping his hand, he stroked his fingers mercilessly over the hidden spot of nerves. Orlando was moaning constantly now, his hips bucking helplessly. With each stroke of Viggo's fingers, Orlando lowered his hips to the bed until Viggo finally realized that Orlando was straining for some sort of contact for his neglected erection.
"Don't come yet," Viggo ordered sternly. "It's too soon for you."
A fine film of sweat covered Orlando's body. His breaths were harsh. "Then stop--stop for Christ's sake," he cried, bucking uncontrollable against the fingers that pleasured him. "I can't control myself when you touch me like this, Viggo. You *know* that."
He *did* know that, but it didn't stop him from wanting to see Orlando unravel into complete helplessness. Confident he'd pushed Orlando far enough, he pulled his fingers from the other man's body. It took a herculean effort to resist plunging his aching flesh into the tight passage his fingers had just vacated.
Viggo took a deep breath, reining in his desire. Orlando always did this to him. No matter what the scenario, the younger man somehow managed to make Viggo lose his grip on the situation. He couldn't allow that to happen this time. He playfully slapped Orlando's buttock. "Up on the bed with you."
Sighing in relief, Orlando tumbled head first across the sheets. He stretched like a cat, long limbs twisting sensuously.
Viggo fought back an evil smile. "No, I want you on your back. Close to the headboard."
Orlando threw an irate glare over his shoulder before flipping onto his back. He used his heels to push his body up to the head of the bed. Viggo joined him. He climbed over the younger man until his legs straddled Orlando on either side of his chest. He carefully removed the tie from around Orlando's neck and grabbed both of his wrists.
"You're doing this on purpose," Orlando bit out, fuming as Viggo closed the loop around his wrists and tied his hands to the slotted headboard.
"Of course, I am," Viggo replied evenly, studying his handiwork. He reached down and let the urgent heat of his erection warm his palm. "Everything about this, my love, is very deliberate."
"That's not what I meant. You know I can't take--mmph"
Viggo's swollen flesh filled Orlando's mouth, cutting off all speech. Viggo groaned, his eyes falling shut as Orlando whimpered around him. He flexed his hips forward, pushing his shaft further down Orlando's throat and gasped as the younger man's throat constricted like a fist. He pulled back and let Orlando catch his breath for a moment. Then Viggo grabbed the headboard and rocked himself in and out of Orlando's mouth.
Orlando was a master with his tongue. Viggo had no idea where he'd learned what he knew, but didn't care to ask. It was enough that Orlando knew exactly how to give Viggo the most pleasure. The hot tongue stroked the length of him. It swirled teasingly around the sensitive tip. As Viggo grew more fevered in his pursuit of pleasure, Orlando shut his eyes and tightened his lips around the other man's cock. Orlando's tongue welcomed him like a caress. It cradled his steel shaft in wetness.
"You're so damn good at this," Viggo muttered, angling his hips to thrust deeper. He watched Orlando through narrowed eyes to be sure he did not become too rough. Orlando looked utterly wanton. Just the sight of that beautiful flushed face and the bound wrists above, nearly shoved Viggo over the edge.
Regretfully, he lifted his hips away, withdrawing his cock from the wonderful wetness. Orlando looked up at him with glazed eyes as he ran a tongue across his lips. Viggo fought back a groan. He slid his body down the length of the younger man's until he covered Orlando head to toe.
"I think you've had enough teasing," Viggo murmured, stroking Orlando's damp face. He marvelled at the fine tremors that coursed through Orlando's body like aftershocks. "Are you ready for me?"
Orlando simply nodded, desire making him weak. His legs drew up around Viggo's hips in invitation. Viggo retrieved the tube he'd placed earlier on the nightstand. He quickly spread the lubrication onto his engorged flesh. The touch nearly undid him, making him aware of how close to the edge he'd driven them both.
Eyes locked with Orlando's, Viggo pressed forward, piercing the taut resistance. Orlando's eyes fluttered wildly, his lips parting as he gasped. Viggo had to clench his jaw against the incredible pressure that squeezed every inch of his shaft. He drove forward in one relentless stroke until their bodies were flush and only a thin film of sweat separated them.
Viggo rammed his hips forward hard, making Orlando's eyes widen. "Do you feel that?" he asked. He rotated his hips. "Tell me how deep I'm inside you, Orlando. Tell me how deep you can feel me."
Orlando whimpered, turning his face into the pillows. "You're too much, Viggo. You're too much..."
Viggo pulled back slightly, then slammed against the younger man, driving him into the bed. "You belong to me, Orlando. Say it." He grabbed the sheets as he began to pump in earnest. "Say it, goddammit!"
Orlando's voice filled the room as each claiming thrust forced a whimper of surrender from his throat. His hands twisted ineffectually within their silk binding. "I'm yours," he sobbed. "I'm yours. Just fuck me, Viggo. Fuck me."
Viggo was more than happy to oblige. He reached beneath Orlando's buttocks and lifted the younger man more firmly into each thrust. Sweat dripped steadily down Viggo's face. He blinked against the stinging pain, unwilling to miss a second of Orlando's responses. Orlando was like a wild cat on the bed. His slender body twisted and thrashed against his bonds as Viggo slammed into him. His open-mouth cries blended with the deep groans Viggo could no longer suppress.
He felt the tightness build in his lower body. His fingers clenched on Orlando's hips hard enough to make the other man cry out in pain. Viggo knew he should care, but he couldn't. All that mattered was the release that was building in him like a wave that couldn't possibly rise any higher.
He peeled one hand from Orlando's hip and grabbed the younger man's neglected cock. Orlando nearly screamed. Viggo pumped his hand quickly up and down the rock hard shaft, even as he felt himself exploding.
Viggo shut his eyes as he came hard into Orlando. Every nerve buzzed like he had just been struck by lightning. Distantly, he heard Orlando cry out. Liquid heat spilled over his hand. Worn thin, Viggo eased his body off of the other man's. He settled beside Orlando, drawing him close. Orlando snuggled against him, sighing contentedly.
"I thought tonight was supposed to be *my* turn," he murmured sleepily.
Viggo kissed the top of his head. "It was, but I got irritated by the show. I'm sorry."
"You were jealous," Orlando teased.
"He was a good-looking guy."
Orlando buried his face against Viggo's chest. "Doesn't matter," he mumbled sleepily. "I belong to you, remember?"
Viggo stroked him possessively. "I remember."
"Good. Then maybe you'll remember that next time, *you* belong to *me*."
Viggo smiled. "Sure," he replied. But he knew he would "forget". He rather looked forward to Orlando having to remind him.
The End
