One thousand and thirty eight miles per hour
by
Bluespirit

Fandom: Lord of the Rings RPS
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: R
Summary: Sometimes you just have to hold on.
Word count: 907

Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. The author is not making any claims as to the real life sexualities or preferences of the people portrayed here. This is purely for entertainment, not profit.

Notes:
My heartfelt thanks to Marialayne for the insightful & wonderful beta.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Orlando’s voice is hushed and muffled against Viggo’s neck and he has to strain to hear the soft words as he struggles to strip Orlando’s shirt from him.

“You’ve never fucked around with a co-star?”

“No,” Orlando says, his voice even fainter and with an underlying note of sadness. “I’ve never fallen in love with one.”

And just like that Viggo feels the earth begin to slow and stutter - rotation awry, everything coming to a spinning, shuddering stop.

He can’t do this. He’d thought that he could, convinced himself that he should, but he’d been wrong; this is a mistake.

~

It had all begun the moment that he’d seen Orlando - his first day on set and he was still trying to adjust to being half-way around the world when just the day before he’d been at home eating cereal with Henry. Peter had introduced him to some of the cast and there, hopping from one foot to another like an over-excited kid, had been Orlando.

Orlando.

It had felt like kismet and he’d foolishly let his poetic heart fill with future glimpses of a life filled with Orlando’s love. Until, of course, reality had stepped in with all of its ugly reasons as to why this would never work. Orlando was so young…what would he ever see in someone like Viggo…how could they ever make it work in the two-faced, image conscious world of Hollywood, and a hundred other things to reinforce why this was A Very Bad Idea.

So Viggo had decided to see the sense of it. He’d hardened his heart, locked his imagined snap shots of a shared life together away, and got on with the job at hand - immersing himself in Aragorn and his craft.

Except that it hadn’t been that easy. Orlando - *Orli* - had giggled and hugged and teased his way under Viggo’s skin - coming perilously close to unlocking the secret of his heart. It became so that he couldn’t even breathe without thinking of dark eyes winking under smudged lashes, sweet smelling curls brushing carelessly against his skin and soft, *soft* lips that made him physically ache with the need to touch and taste them.

Then, this evening, it had all been too much.

The Fellowship had been out for dinner and a few drinks, and somehow Viggo had found himself being driven home by Orlando. Without thinking he’d invited him in for coffee and then all of his restraint and common sense had just evaporated because of one simple thing. Such a silly little thing really, when he thought about it.

They’d taken the coffee through to the den and Viggo had been trying to sweep some of the detritus from the couch so that they could sit. Orlando had been helping and they’d both reached for the dog eared copy of ‘Rings’ at the same time, their seeking fingers wrapping around each other instinctively. Viggo had swallowed and stared at their joined hands, book now forgotten as he relished the heat tingling from the places that their skin met; yet not daring to look into Orlando’s face.

Then Orlando had spoken his name, just that one word but filled with such want that in a split second all of Viggo’s good intentions vanished. He could *do* this - if he couldn’t have Orlando forever - and he’d convinced himself of that - then he could have *this*, just one night to carry with him down the long years to come.

But he’d have to play it carefully - Orlando was exceptional and he must never know the depth of Viggo’s feelings. No, he had to keep it to the purely physical - he couldn’t burden Orlando with declarations of a love that he would not welcome. This was just about the fucking - only Viggo would know that it meant so much more, squirreling away every precious moment to cherish in the lonely times ahead.

Well, that had been the plan.

~

But now he stands, his hands frozen in their frantic clawing at the soft yellow cotton of Orlando’s shirt and his breath lost - he may never breathe again.

“Love?”

Even to his own ears his voice is raw, desperate with pain and hope. Don’t play with me, Orli - please don’t be playing with me. He wants to say it, to beg - but he can’t get the words past the dry boulder lodged in his throat.

Orlando looks up, eyes wide, his face white with strain and something that looks like fear. “Yeah, Vig. This isn’t fucking around - I love you.” His voice grows stronger and something flashes in the depths of the dark eyes, “I fucking *love* you, Viggo.”

And all at once the earth begins spinning again, speeding faster and faster until Viggo feels giddy with joy, clinging on for the ride of his life.

“You love me?” He needs to hear it again but can’t keep the broad, hopeful smile at bay.

“I love you.” Orlando nods solemnly, a hint of a smile turning the corners of those beautiful lips upwards.

Viggo knows that he has a propensity to ramble so he tries to keep it short. “So, is forever okay then?”

The smile blossoms, wreathing Orlando’s face with light.

“Yeah - forever works for me, Vig.”

The end

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