Forever Mine, Forever Young

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Much love to you all :-)

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Chapter 5.

Orli left his bags on the porch and drove downtown to the pub; he didn’t want to get drunk, he was just thirsty. And he didn’t want to be alone.

Sean was there, as always on a Sunday evening, watching sports on the bar’s big screen. He let Orli drink his water in peace for some time before approaching him, and even then he only sat down next to the younger man and gently brushed the dirt off his back.

Orli smiled weakly at him and rolled the stiffness out of his shoulders.

“You look a little rough, Orli. Take a fall, did you?” Sean asked, keeping his eyes on the television.

“Yeah,” Orli answered around a pretzel.

“Where’s your man?”

Orli half-shrugged, “He had something to do.”

Sean sighed. He had a flight home in two days, and he really didn’t want to leave Orli and Viggo alone with their problems.

“You two finally have it out?” he asked.

Orli nodded.

“It get messy?”

“Yeah, mate. A little.” Orli surprised himself with the admission.

“He hit you?” Sean was trying to keep the conversation nonchalant; he didn’t want to frighten Orli back into silence.

Orli sniffed and rubbed his nose with the back of a hand. “No.” He finally turned to look at Sean. “I wouldn’t have blamed him if he had, though.”

Sean wasn’t surprised. “You can’t think like that, Bloom. There’s a time and a place for punishment, if that‘s what think you need, but it should never be meted out in anger.”

“I fucked up, though, Beanie. Fucked up bad.”

“What could you have done that was so bad, hmm? Killed somebody?” He chuckled, but Orli didn‘t smile back.

“No, nothing like that.” Orli took a deep breath, not wanting to tell, but needing someone other than Viggo to know, to understand. “ ‘M gonna be a dad,” he blurted

“Holy shit, Orli.”

“Yeah.” He shoved another pretzel in his mouth. “Viggo’s with her now.”

~*~

That was not entirely true. Viggo had just entered the bar, having driven Nadia to a hotel and bought her a plane ticket home, and he was watching Orli and Sean together. He was going to miss Sean; but more than that, he was going to miss Orli.

In the few hours that he had spent with the young, pregnant woman, he had made some difficult decisions.

Getting her to release the child to Orli’s custody hadn’t been cheap, and dealing with her that way--buying Orli’s baby-- made him feel unbelievably dirty. But that wasn’t the worst part.

She had pictures.

She was nothing if not thorough. Somehow, he hadn’t expected to actually see evidence of his relationship with Orli reduced to sordid, black and white surveillance photos. And that was how he felt: reduced.

He wasn’t sure that he could ever forgive Orli for putting him in that situation.

So, he savored the moment of peace before walking to the bar, where he nodded at a shell-shocked Sean, and pulled Orli gently away. He imagined that it would be the last time that the three of them would ever be in a room together in comfort, without pain and awkward conversation.

“ C’mon angel, let’s go for a drive,” he murmured as he maneuvered Orli out the door, ignoring the boy’s hopeful looks.

The car was cheap and small, and it put them in close proximity. Viggo was forced to smell Orli: sweat, coconut sunscreen, and pretzels.

The drove into the country, sitting in silence, as Orli fidgeted.

Sensing the boy’s mounting frustration, Viggo gave in. There was no sense in delaying the inevitable.

“It’s done.”

“She’s gone?” Orli responded quietly.

“She will be. Gone from here, at least.” She would never really be gone from their lives.

Orli nodded at that, and shifted in his seat so that he could look more closely at Viggo. “How much did you pay her, Vig?” he asked warily.

Viggo sighed and turned back toward the road. “Enough. She gets what she wants and you get the baby.”

He was about to broach the subject of the pictures when Orli interrupted.

“Oh Jesus, Vig . . . I don’t know what to say.” Orli voice was heavy with relief, and to Viggo astonishment, a hint of joy. Perhaps this wasn’t just Orli throwing a spoiled fit and wanting a baby because it suddenly sounded good to him. But perhaps it was. Only time would tell if Orli was mature enough to take on the responsibilities of a child. And Viggo felt a shameful tingle of relief that he wasn’t going to be around to find out. He didn’t trust Nadia, and the best protection for both of them (and their respective children) if she were ever to release the pictures, would be if they were no longer together.

“I don’t know what to say,” Orli repeated. His voice was quiet and it had a dark quality that warned Viggo only a second before the boy’s hand fell on his groin.

He jerked his hips away and the car swerved dangerously. “Don’t, Orli,” he growled.

“But,” and Orli bent over, muffling his voice in Viggo’s crotch, “I want to.” His cheek rested on Viggo’s erection, proving that despite the older man’s protestations, he wanted Orli. He would always want Orli.

Orli looked up at Viggo out of sinful, gypsy-eyes, and murmured, “I can’t say how much what you did means to me. So let me show you.”

Viggo made one last attempt to move Orli and then trained his eyes on the road. Whenever Orli lost the words to communicate what he felt, he resorted to sexual expression, whether it was joy, pain or even guilt. Viggo knew it, and he knew he shouldn’t allow it. Rather, he should force the boy to finish their conversation and listen to what Viggo had to say, because it would only be worse later--but he couldn’t resist it. He felt the boy’s teeth through the denim of his jeans as Orli mouthed his zipper, caught it, and slid it down.

The lines on the road blurred as Orli’s hot mouth covered the head of his dick and Orli’s tongue began to flutter.

Trees flew by, morphing into one continual band of green as Orli worked a hand into Viggo’s loose fitting pants.

Lick, suck, flutter, nibble. Squeeze. Orli had found Viggo’s balls, and after a sharp squeeze he was edging his hand mercilessly past them.

Only the honking of a passing car saved them as Viggo drifted into oncoming traffic, his mind blank, and his eyes focused on Orli’s dark head bobbing in his lap.

He slowed the car, pulled onto a dirt road and into the forest, parking in a secluded clearing under the shadow of the trees. That felt better. Speckled with lighter and darker shades of emerald, the car seemed a different place altogether, a place out of time, out of the glare of the light.

Viggo was smart enough to recognize his affinity for seeing Orli cast in shadow. Their lives together had always been cast in shades of gray. His doubts, Orli’s moods, and the need for discretion had forced them out of the revealing rays of the sun. As a result, their intimacy was a thing of dark places, of night times and candlelit rooms. Of late afternoons, and of sunrises and sunsets. It was a thing of between-times and veils. And masks. They were actors after all, playing surreal roles, and the glowing, green shadow-light of the forest served to mask, for a brief time, the ugliness of their reality.

So, perhaps it was the quiet, or perhaps it was the way Orli looked-- so sylvan and otherworldly-- that made Viggo fumble with the seat lever, lower himself backwards and slither out of his pants. And when Orli’s finger grazed his entrance, tentative, testing, Viggo spread his legs willingly.

That was a strange, foreign feeling, to open himself to the boy that he so dominated. But it fit, in this time and place.

And suddenly he couldn’t get enough. The cramped space of the car didn’t allow Orli access to him, didn’t allow for what he really wanted. This last time.

So he opened the door and the two fell out onto the leaf-carpeted ground, tangled in each other’s arms. Neither broke the silence, and Orli didn’t seem surprised when his head was forced back to Viggo’s erection, and then past it. Because even in this, with Viggo on the bottom, his legs spread wide, Orli was the one submitting.

Viggo was holding his breath, biting his lip painfully, when Orli’s lips touched him. He’d never asked this of the boy before, and never wanted it as it seemed to be a prelude to penetration, but he welcomed it now. The soft, sensual feel of Orli’s tongue working it’s way inside of him while the boy’s hand stroked his cock brought breathy moans from deep in his chest.

When Orli’s tongue was joined by his fingers, Viggo bucked off of the damp ground and arched his back. He had forgotten what it was like. But since there was no lube, he would have to be content with Orli’s hands and mouth.

And he was. He came in Orli’s mouth with Orli’s fingers rough inside of him, and he welcomed the burn.

He lay exhausted afterward and watched Orli, so fey in the green and gold forest, kneel in the black dirt and bring himself slowly to climax with Viggo’s come smeared across his chin.

TBC