A Ranch In Idaho

Title: A Ranch In Idaho (2/4)
Author: laeglass
Pairing: VM/OB
Rating: NC-17
Warning: language, sex, spoiled brat!Orlando
Disclaimer: It's just a dream and a lie; no money made and no harm intended.
Summary: On their way to Des Moines Elijah and Orlando’s car breaks and they are forced to rely on the kindness of a stranger.
Beta by tularia :)


Part Two

“Could you at least try and help?” Elijah whined. He was stirring a soup in a kettle, throwing annoyed glances at Orlando who was sitting at the table, reading some old newspaper.

“God, no!” He said cheerfully and turned the page. “Look, this way everyone’s happy. Viggo gets food, you get to feel good about yourself and I get to stay out of everyone’s way. Now stop nagging, you sound like a girl.”

Elijah rolled his eyes but refrained from commenting. Orlando sighed as he folded the newspaper and put it away. “God I’m bored”, he said and stood up after stretching his legs. He always became twitchy when he was bored and he had to come up with something to spend the extra energy. “I think I’ll go to the stables to see what Viggo’s up to”, Orlando announced and exited the kitchen, leaving a baffled Elijah behind.

“Orli! Fucking hell…”

The sight that met Orlando inside the stables left him speechless. Viggo was shoveling hay into one of the empty stalls (he had explained to the boys earlier that he was expecting a new horse tomorrow) with determined and precise moves, his breath leaving his lungs in short, audible huffs. Orlando swallowed as he caught a better look at him. Viggo was wearing a pale grey t-shirt, well-worn and thin, that did nothing to conceal the broad expanse of his chest and the width of his shoulders. There were dark circles in the cloth beneath his arms, and the sweat on his forehead gleamed in the light.

Orlando was rendered incapable of movement or talk as he felt an unexplainably violent wave of desire flood his every cell. This wasn’t some drooling fanboy twink that’d give his right arm for the right of blowing him; no, this was a man, a real man, who’d rather take what he wanted than ask, who’d make him kneel for him, make him beg for getting fucked, and then take him so hard and so well that he’d lose consciousness when he’d finally be allowed to come.

To put it simply, Mortensen was Orlando’s dream man come to reality, and at that moment there was nothing Orlando craved more than to be reduced to a whimpering mass of boy-flesh by this gorgeous cowboy. This sudden realisation gave Orlando the push he needed and he cleared his throat, stepping forward. Viggo turned to look at him and watched as the boy came to stand in front of him.

“Did you come to tell me the food is ready?” He finally asked, after it had become apparent that Orlando was content with just looking at him. Orlando raised his eyes from perusing the man’s chest and smiled coyly, adopting an intentionally flirtatious pose.

“Not yet, I just thought I’d peek in”, he said softly and ran his fingers through his hair. “You need any help?”

Viggo eyed him and then grinned, displaying a less than perfect row of teeth, but for some reason it suited him and Orlando wasn’t disgusted as he normally would have been. “I think you’re too fine for this”, the man said amusedly and tipped his head a little. “I don’t think you’d want hay in your boots.”

Orlando pouted. “I’m not so shallow”, he said and looked at Viggo from beneath his lashes. “Pretty please, I want to do some manly work, too, so that you can’t say that I’m just taking advantage of your hospitality.”

Viggo raised an amused eyebrow and then sighed, putting the shovel away to lean on the stall door. “Look, Orlando. I can see that you’re fond of playing games and under some other circumstances I just might play along. But as it happens I’m not that keen on beating around the bush. I somehow doubt that you’re all that enthusiastic at the prospect of getting to shovel hay, so why don’t you just tell me plain and simple what it is you want.”

Orlando’s throat felt dry all of a sudden. “You.”

Viggo’s serious eyes searched and found his, and held his gaze. “Me”, he repeated thoughtfully. “I must make a nice change for your usual conquests.” Then his eyes softened and he shook his head. “Go back inside, Orlando. You and I are not looking for the same thing.”

Orlando’s eyes darkened in hurt. “How can you say that? You can’t possibly know what I’m after, now can you?”

“Elijah explained some things to me, Orlando. He said that he’s the prankster and you’re the seducer, and the main idea of Cuntry Boys is to travel around the country, wreak havoc and generally just behave badly”, Viggo said. “I’m not so far gone as to believe that this is the first time you’ve hit on a guy when on road.”

Orlando narrowed his eyes. “Let me explain some things to you, too. Right now Eli and I should be in Des Moines, getting ready for shooting episodes for season two. There are people we should be chatting up this very moment, and yet were stuck here in Idaho. I noticed that there wasn’t a television in your living room so I’m going to assume that you’ve never watched our show.”

Viggo nodded his affirmative and Orlando continued, “The thing is that I’m very openly gay. I’ve never tried to hide it and that’s probably why they wanted me on this show. I did one season of some shitty soap opera and the producers wanted me on Cuntry Boys, since, well, they wanted some provocative very sexually charged boy.”

“And that’s you”, Viggo said. “Are you getting somewhere with this?”

“Yes. If you’d ever watched our show you’d noticed that I pull very often, and I get a lot of sex. Fanboys, regular gay guys, bi curious guys, just about anyone. But that’s just in benefit for the program. I don’t do it because I necessarily want to; I do it because Robin tells me to. Because it’s good for the viewing ratings”, Orlando said in a brilliant imitation of Robin’s voice. “And because that’s how Orli is; a total and utter slut. It doesn’t mean that I’m the same”, he concluded and looked at Viggo earnestly.

“I think you have noticed that the camera crew isn’t here”, he said softly. “That has got to mean something.”

Viggo looked at him again and hummed very lowly in his throat. “Tell you what”, he finally said. “Let me catch a shower and change my clothes, and then we’ll talk some more.”

~*~

After Elijah’s soup had been polished off and the chef suitably praised, the tired blue-eyed wonder retired to his room upstairs. Viggo had gone to take the much needed shower and Orlando was practically pacing the floor of the master bedroom.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Bloom”, he told himself. “Nothing to worry about here, sex is your playground and no-one plays men better than Orli. Calm down and look sexy, he’ll never want to fuck you if you look like a nervous ten-year-old.”

Finally he went to sit down on the edge of Viggo’s bed, noticing that even though the bed covers were quite worn they were clean, and after a quick sniff it was also discovered that they smelled only of laundry and washing powder. Goodie. Orlando hated nothing more than a man that slept in grimy bedsheets. After an agonising eternity (which in reality was only twenty minutes), Viggo emerged damp and clean from the bathroom, wearing only a towel wrapped around his narrow hips. Orlando was pleased to see that there was no excess body fat on the cowboy’s work-hardened body.

“So then, yeah”, Orlando said and dried his damp palms on the thighs of his jeans. “Are you ready to talk now, cowboy?” He asked, regaining some of his usual bravado.

The corners of Viggo’s mouth curled upwards briefly. “It seems that Orli is back. Could I please talk with Orlando now?”

Orlando pouted. “I’m not a schizophrenic, mate”, he started but then just shrugged. “Why are you standing all the way there? Come here, I won’t bite. Unless that’s your kink”, he couldn’t help adding.

Viggo crossed the room with a few strides and came to sit on the bed next to Orlando, looking at him with an amused grin. “You’re lovely”, he said honestly. “Just like a purebred nervy little kitten that can’t stay in one place more than a few seconds.”

“A kitten, huh”, Orlando purred and slid closer to the man. “Sorry to disappoint but I’m no pussy.” Before Viggo could offer any protests the boy pushed him backwards and climbed on top of him to straddle his thighs.

“I never took you for a pussy”, the man said a little breathlessly, very aware of the effect this sexy little thing was having on his libido. It had been some time since he’d last had a lover, and that one certainly hadn’t been a ridiculously beautiful young man. This brought another thought to Viggo and he sobered a little. “How old are you, Orlando?” Viggo asked carefully.

“Twenty-four”, the boy said simply. “I can assure you that you’re not about to take my virginity, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He noticed the cowboy’s slightly alarmed expression and went on the defensive. “What? Twenty-four isn’t that young, and you can’t possibly be more than fifteen years older than me.”

“Actually I’m forty-two”, Viggo said dryly and looked up at the flushed boy that was grinding his buttocks against the man’s hardening cock. “Orlando, this is probably not a good idea. I’m too old for this.”

“I’m not interested in counting your wrinkles, mate”, Orlando said irritably. “I just want your cock in me. Bloody hell”, he exclaimed when Viggo failed to say anything to that. “I can’t believe you’d rather waste your time on feeling sorry for yourself when you could be buggering me silly.”

Viggo smiled sheepishly as he admitted to himself that Orlando, in fact, had a point. “You want my cock, huh”, he said and thrust his hips upwards, driving his erection into Orlando’s jean-covered cleft. Orlando actually whimpered at the contact and closed his eyes.

“Oh God, give it to me”, he demanded, rolling his hips against Viggo’s, spurred on by the steel hard shaft beneath the man’s towel. “I’m wearing way too many clothes”, he panted and without further ado planted his knees firmly on the mattress, freeing his hands to pull the t-shirt over his head. “Give me a hand with these jeans, will you luv”, he asked, no, demanded, and Viggo had never been so quick to comply.

The man raised an eyebrow at the lack of undergarment but refrained from making a comment. Somehow it figured that a boy like Orlando wouldn’t wear any underwear at fear of slowing things. Viggo got rid of his towel almost self-consciously, knowing that his body wasn’t as perfect as Orlando’s, but the way the Brit’s eyes widened at the sight of his erect cock made wonders for his self-esteem.

“Oh God”, Orlando said reverently as he fell to his knees in front of the older man as if to worship it, and in a way, that was what he intended to do. He raised his eyes to meet Viggo’s stormy blue eyes and slowly extended his tongue to lick the tip. Viggo sighed at the first contact and had to force his eyes to remain open, wanting to see how Orlando’s full lips stretched around the head of his cock. He couldn’t help the breathy moan that escaped his lips, though, when Orlando’s throat opened up and accepted his long erection without gagging.

Orlando palmed the heavy bollocks in his left hand while his right one was busy with stroking the man’s shaft. He couldn’t believe his luck; this gorgeous man, to whom he’d felt attracted since he’d first seen him, wasn’t only gay but also had an equipment that would make even Uraeus envious. Orlando had no problem admitting to being a size queen, but a boy of his station could afford to be picky, and he wasn’t likely to spread his legs to someone who had little or nothing to offer.

“You’re killing me here”, Viggo groaned as Orlando ran his tongue around the head of his cock, following the prominent ridge with his agile tongue and lips, and he just had to tangle his fingers in the boy’s lush hair; not to control or guide him but to hang on. Orlando’s wicked brown eyes, now darkened by lust, met his just when he went down again and his lips met Viggo’s pubic hair. Then he came back up and let the stiff cock slide free from his mouth.

“No, I’m just sucking you off”, he said flippantly and returned to the task at hand. Something in his tone bothered Viggo, but he pushed the thought out of his mind as he realised that he was very rapidly approaching his climax, and almost regretted the fact that his coming would mean an end to the wonderful experience that was Orlando’s mouth. The boy was so amazingly talented with his lips and tongue; every little lick and nibble had its purpose and brought the man closer and closer to the edge.

How many men has he done this to? Viggo’s treacherous mind whispered. How many men does one have to blow to become this good? He tried not to think about Orlando doing this to anyone else, which was ridiculous of him, since he knew that Orlando was really no virgin and had even admitted to sleeping around a lot; and furthermore he’d only known the boy for a couple of hours and would probably never see him again come tomorrow.

Orlando did something fabulously ingenious with his tongue then while pressing the area behind Viggo’s balls, and the man couldn’t hold off his orgasm any longer. “I’m coming”, he tried to warn, but Orlando only took him in deeper as Viggo finally spilled his seed inside the boy’s mouth, his fingers tightening in Orlando’s curls almost painfully. Viggo pumped his hips lazily as he rode out the waves of his climax, trying to draw breath and regain the command over his brains.

“Now”, Orlando said as he let the cock come free from his mouth, “that was just to take the edge off. I hope you recover fast because I’m in a mood for good old-fashioned shagging.”

Viggo couldn’t look at Orlando then, because he knew what would happen if he were to give in to his wishes. The boy might call it buggering or fucking or shagging, but the truth remained that to Viggo it would be making love, and if he were to touch Orlando like that he would be lost, and after that there was no way he could let Orlando leave him. Already his feelings for the dirty-mouthed Brit ran too deep, and having had Orlando once would only make it ten times harder to see him go.

“Orlando”, he said softly. He sat up on the bed and looked at the kneeling boy regretfully. “You’ll probably think I’m a prick for saying this, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to fuck. I think it’s best if we just call it a day.” The boy looked at him with a surprised look on his face, which quickly turned into an angry expression.

“You’re kicking me out of bed?” Orlando exclaimed incredulously. “You’re kicking me out of your fucking bed! I can’t fucking believe this,” he accused, almost hysterically.

Viggo shook his head. “I’m not kicking you out of bed, Orlando, no. This was a wrong thing to do, and fucking would be even more wrong. I don’t know if you do this often and it’s none of my business, but I am not in a habit of sleeping with people I haven’t known for long. We shouldn’t have done this, I’m sorry I led you on.”

“No. No no no”, Orlando said emphatically and gathered his jeans and t-shirt from the floor. “You don’t get to give the ‘this-was-a-mistake’ speech. Jesus, how desperate I had to be to sleep with you, god. Jesus”, he muttered and pulled the jeans on despite his hard and aching erection. “You should feel lucky, Mortensen, to have had me”, he said arrogantly to mask the hurt and confusion he felt. “Hope that thought warms you at night when you have nothing but your own hand for company.”

His breath hitched in his throat as he bolted out of Viggo’s bedroom into the dimly-lit hallway. So that was how it felt to be dismissed after a session of hot, sweaty sex. No-one had ever treated Orlando like that, ever. He had always been the one to give the speech afterwards, or if he was too tired or pissed to do that, he just threw them out and maybe gave them some money for a cab. And now this over-aged country bumpkin ordered him out of bed after he had just given him head? Fuck you, Mortensen.

Orlando went to knock on Elijah’s door. “Eli, you still awake? Come on, let’s go and check the local night life. There’s bound to be some action somewhere.”

“We don’t have a car, remember”, came Elijah’s muffled voice from the other side of the door.

“So what, we’ll just borrow Mortensen’s”, Orlando said brashly. “Guy’s probably in bed already and won’t know a thing. Come on, Elwood. I’m in a mood for picking up some hot young thing and fucking my brains out. Don’t tell me you’re getting old on me. Come oooon”, he whined impatiently, rapping the door with his knuckles.

By the time the boys got back from their nightly endeavours it was already four am, the house was silent and dark, they both were utterly wasted and Orlando had indeed managed to top some willing hot guy at the men’s room of a local bar.

That, Orlando decided, had been the crappiest orgasm in his life, but he didn’t wish to analyze why he felt that way.

~to be continued~