Title: Burnt sugar

Author: Crimsonsenya

Pairing: V/O

Genre: AU, Trailer Park Verse,

Rating: PG13

Summary: His brother had left.

A/N: A short sequel ficlet to “When the saints are marching in” also related to “Frayed”. For Romi, who likes happy endings.

**********************************

Sean dropped him at the end of the road and Viggo staggered in the powdery snow to his home behind church. The car clock had showed half past six. He fumbled the pocket of his coat for the key, almost dropping the bills he had gained in the poker the previous night. In the half dusk right before the dawn he recognized straight away the heap on his doorsteps as Orli.

He was just sitting there, his sweater-clad arms embracing his legs that were tucked tightly under his chin, a knitted cap covering his head –the way Viggo had seen him so many times before. But now, Orli was frighteningly stagnant, except the visible shivering from the cold. Viggo felt his knees go weak, and he cursed the remains of his drunken haze. Without a glance, Orli stretched out his hand to Viggo, and he noticed the glowing end of the cigarette. Viggo took the stub and dangled it between his lips, but he didn’t let go of Orli’s ice-cold hand.

“How long have you been here?” he asked. Orli kept staring at some distant spot in the air. Viggo blew out smoke, before he bent over and kissed the chilly fingers. Finally, Orli turned his face, and the crestfallen look created an aching lump on Viggo’s throat.

“He will leave today,” Orli whispered. There was only one person whose departure would upset his angel. Viggo pulled Orli flush against him. Unhesitatingly, Orli’s arms burrowed under Viggo’s coat, and his mouth found it’s way to Orli’s cold cheekbone.

“Let’s get inside,” he murmured.

The first thing he did was to fill the bathtub with hot water and to divest Orli and himself of their clothes. They took the bath in silence, Orli’s smooth thin body like a slippery seal entwined with his. Orli kept his eyes closed, but the drops on his face could have been tears. His teeth were rattling still, when they stepped out of the water. Viggo dried him with a rough terry cloth towel and kissed his pale blue lips lightly, but Orli pressed his tongue inside with urgency, and Viggo’s hands slid down Orli’s back through force of habit.

The intoxicated stupor segued into nausea as hangover dashed over him. However, Viggo proceeded to brew coffee, fry a couple of eggs and toast a few loaves of bread, while Orli sat on the counter in Viggo’s flannel pyjamas, his long limbs drooping and swaying, cool toes randomly brushing Viggo’s naked calves, as Viggo shuffled around in a pair of briefs. If only Orli had been smiling, it could have been just another morning after waking up together. But Orli’s brother was going away, and Orli seemed different than two days ago, more breakable, as if somebody had torn off feathers from his fragile wings.

After breakfast they went to bed. When Viggo had gone for an extra-blanket, Orli had stripped his pyjamas and lain down on his side, arms wrapped around his bare torso. Even at his most vulnerable, he was the most splendorous being Viggo had ever met. He stood by the bed holding the blanket, not quite knowing what to do next. There was a disarray of mahogany curls on the white pillow, and when Viggo pushed Orli’s on his back, he felt goose bumps under his fingertips. Viggo dropped the blanket and crawled over him. Sadness had hit him like rain, corroding the vibrant joy that usually seeped from Orli’s every pore, and loneliness had started to wash away the vivacity Viggo fervently adored. For the first time, his gaze was dull, and the pain it caused Viggo was unbearable.

Slowly, as if closing in on a wild animal, Viggo lowered his mouth on him. He sucked and nipped the silken skin on Orli’s hipbone before bestowing on him long licks that left moist trails on his hard belly. The body in Viggo’s grasp trembled. His thighs parted in invitation, and his hard-on pressed hotly to Viggo’s shoulder, but still, Orli refused to give away a sound. Viggo loved the scent and taste of burnt sugar invading his senses, he loved turning those exquisite lips red and swollen, he loved the life that tingled and sparkled under his tongue, right beneath him, he loved…

“He will leave with the band. I guess it’s very good for him…” Orli had said between bites of toast and sips of strong oily coffee.

The abashed eyes that looked at Viggo now were two dark pits, flaring with arousal, distress and something unnamed. He loved –more than anything else– wiping away the sorrows of his angel. And Viggo knew he could do it, because it was love he felt for Orli. It would just take more than what he was planning to do to him too. But he wouldn’t mention love aloud, for the same reason Orli wasn’t sobbing, even if his heart was bleeding.

“What if we leave too?” Viggo asked, making Orli tense in an instant.

“Where?” He breathed sharply in.

“Wherever you want. With you I don’t care,” Viggo said and truly meant it, much more than when he had mumbled ‘I do’ to his departed wife. Before he realized, Orli had reversed their positions, and Viggo lay flat on his back.

“Will you take me?” Orli’s voice was unwavering and sensual. He lifted Viggo’s hand and sucked in the digits to the wet heat of his luscious mouth, slowly grinding their crotches together.

“Fuck yeah.” Viggo rasped, but it was an answer to now and forever.