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Drabbles & Short Stories

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12 Slashy Days of Christmas Drabbles
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: G to R



Day 1 - Decorating the Tree (V/O - PG)

The living room was covered from one end to the other with various Christmas items… strands of lights that needed to be checked, ropes of garland that needed to be unknotted, several boxes of ornaments to go through. And in the middle of it all, the man who Viggo loved more than life itself.

“You could help, you know.”

Viggo shook his head. “Nope, my job was to cut the tree down and drag it back here for *you* to decorate.”

A sly grin appeared on Orlando’s face. “The sooner we get it decorated the sooner we can christen it.”



Day 2 - Snowed In (V/O – PG)

Orlando rested his forehead against the cold windowpane. It had been snowing for three days straight and according to the latest weather report, it looked like they were in for a few more.

The sound of blankets rustling behind him drew his attention away from the dancing snowflakes back to the bed. Normally he would be a ball of nervous energy, being cooped up for this long, but Viggo assured him that there were plenty of things to do to pass the time.

Being snowed in wasn’t all that bad, he thought as he joined his lover beneath the covers.



Day 3 - Rings Reunion Christmas party (V/O - PG)

The calendar might have shown that ten years had passed, but those attending the party did not seem to notice, or care. When the group was together, everything slipped back into its proper place and it was like they were reliving it all over again.

The Hobbits played pranks while Wizards and Dwarves grumbled good-naturedly and Stewards and Horse Lords played referee.

And then there were the King and his Elf, who could be counted on, to this day, to be caught in various activities that might be better suited to a more intimate setting.

Ahh, some things never changed.



Day 4 - All Wrapped Up (V/O - R)

The house was dark when Viggo returned from his evening feeding and he wondered where Orlando was. His car was still in the driveway, so he had to be in the house somewhere. After checking downstairs, he made his way up to the second floor.

He stopped in the doorway to their bedroom and drank in the sight that greeted him.

Orlando lay on the bed wearing nothing but a smile and big red bow.

Viggo chuckled. “I take it that Santa came early?”

“Yep. Come unwrap your gift.”

Clothes were quickly removed before Viggo joined him on the bed.



Day 5 - An Anonymous Christmas Gift (V/O - G)

Orlando stared at the small red gift box adorned with a green bow that was sitting on his makeup table. No card, no indication of who it was from.

“Vig, did you see who brought this in?” he asked.

Blue eyes peered over the script he was studying. “Nope. It was there when I came in earlier. Isn’t there a card?”


“Maybe there’s a note inside,” Viggo suggested.

The box was opened and inside Orlando found a charm, a silver coin with what appeared to be a surfer etched onto its surface.

“Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer.”



Day 6 - Unpacking a Christmas Stocking (V/O - R)

Orlando’s grin grew wider with each gift he extracted from his stocking. Beside him sat a small bottle of chocolate sauce, a new vibrator he immediately named “Mr. Pinky”, and a satin mask.

“You know me so well,” he said with a laugh as he reached into the stocking one last time and retrieved a small velvet pouch. “Let me guess… a cock ring?”

Viggo took the pouch from Orlando and opened it, tipping the contents into his palm.

Orlando’s eyes widened when Viggo slid the ring onto his finger.

“Marry me?” Viggo asked.

A speechless Orlando could only nod.



Day 7 - Christmas Dinner (V/O - PG)

The mountain cabin was full of laughter and chatter as the extended Bloom-Mortensen families gathered around the dinner table laden with turkey and stuffing, roast potatoes and vegetables, cranberry sauce and gravy, as they celebrated not just one special occasion, but two.

As much fun as Orlando was having at the moment, he secretly looked forward to when the cabin was quiet again, when their families had gone back to the hotel for the night.

Then he would lead his husband into their bedroom and celebrate their love (and seven years together) in a way as old as time itself.



Day 8 – If I remember correctly, this was a picture of a Christmas card, but it has been forever lost somewhere in the interwebs.



Day 9 - Eggnog, Jingle Bells and Leather (V/O - R)

Orlando’s mind slowly clawed its way back to consciousness.

Headache? Check.

Cottonmouth? Check.

Naked? Check.



Orlando cracked one eye open and groaned when he spied his discarded leather pants and Liv’s jingle bell bracelet that somehow managed to find its way onto his right ankle at some point during the festivities.

A body shifted behind him and Orlando froze. Oh god, who was…

“If I had known spiked eggnog turned you into a half-naked harem dancer, I would have bought out every store in Wellington long ago,” the sleep-gravelly voice said as warm lips pressed against Orlando’s shoulder.



Day 10 - Sleigh Ride (V/O - PG)

“You’d better have a bloody good reason for dragging my arse out here in the freezing cold, old man,” Orlando grumbled as he zipped up his jacket and then pulled his beanie down over his curls.

“Don’t I always?” Viggo countered as he wrapped his arms around the young man.

“It’s funny that after all these years, we still can’t see eye to eye on the definition of ‘good reasons to venture outdoors when it’s…” Orlando’s voice trailed off when he caught sight of the horse-drawn sleigh coming up their drive. “A sleigh ride?”

Viggo nodded.

Orlando grinned.

“It’s perfect.”



Day 11 - Christmas Lights (V/O – G)

“Dom, you can’t plug that many strands of lights together!”

“Can too. Watch!”

“You’re going to blow a fuse, and when that happens, Peter will not be pleased.”

Elijah nodded. “When he said we could decorate for Christmas, I don’t think he was planning on anyone channeling Clark Griswold.”

“Clark Griswold?” Dom asked in confusion.

Christmas Vacation. American movie where Chevy Chase covers his entire house with lights,” the youngest clarified.

Dom thought for a second, then shrugged. “Don’t care,” he said as he plugged one too many strands together, causing the predicted blackout.

The King and Elf chuckled. “Hobbits.”



Day 12 - Christmas is for Kids (V/O – PG13)

The floor of the cabin was littered with bits of wrapping paper, but neither man cared as their focus was centered on their granddaughter, who was squealing in delight as she played on her new Sit’n Spin.

“Faster daddy!” Gracie cried.

As Henry complied, Viggo caught the wistful look on his husband’s face and laced their fingers together. “She’s just as much your grandchild as she is mine, babe. You know that.”

Orlando grinned. “It’s not that. I was just trying to remember the last time I played on a Sit’n Spin.”

“This morning,” Viggo whispered. “And later, most definitely.”

Chapter Text

Prompt #1 – Light

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast shadows in the dips and hollows of toned muscle. Between pectorals, at the juncture where torso met thigh, the crease of an elbow. Long fingers tipped by paint-stained nails skated through light and darkness, seeking, teasing, before threading their way into soft hair, tugging gently before dipping into the depression of a navel.

“Vig, please…” Orlando’s lust-filled and strained voice could barely be heard over the movie playing in the background, the hotel room’s television intentionally left on in an effort to mask the sounds that their loving would bring to life.

Prompt #2 - Wet

A pair of mustache-covered lips added to the erotic sensations coursing through Orlando’s hypersensitive body. As predicted, he responded beautifully to the extra stimuli, creating an erotic set of visuals for Viggo to savor and then tuck away, to be recalled later, when real life whisked them away to different parts of the world.

Silk-restrained wrists pulling at their bonds, fingers clenching and unclenching.

The outline of biceps and abdominal muscles playing beneath the honey-colored skin.

The tip of a tongue as it slid between dry lips, wetting them for a brief time before harsh, panting breaths evaporated the moisture.

Prompt #3 – Fill

"You know that begging for it only makes me tease you more," Viggo said before his teeth closed around a peaked nub, biting gently.

Orlando arched into the sensation, wanting more of the same, but also wanting his lover to stop this exquisite torture. He ached to be filled by the hot column of flesh pressing against his thigh, wanted to be taken, owned, wanted his lover’s seed to brand him.

"Haven’t you had your fill yet?" Orlando asked as he rolled his hips, the feel of his cock trapped between their bodies making him moan. "Christ, Vig…"

"Soon, Angel."

Prompt #4 – Waves

Waves of sensuous pleasure coursed through Orlando’s veins as Viggo played his body masterfully. A soft touch of lips against sweat-dampened skin, the scrape of blunt nails skating across the expanse of ribs, the nip of teeth to the inside of his thigh. All of it too much; all of it not enough. And never where he wanted, needed, craved the touch.

Orlando’s lower lip was caught between two rows of pearly white teeth, halting the pleading that threatened to spill forth, knowing it would be fruitless. Viggo would only relent when HE was ready, and not a moment sooner. 

Prompt #5 – Hands and Knees

“Turn over.”

“Can’t, tied to the bed as I am. Unless you want me to wrench my arms from their sockets.” A smirk.

Viggo had to concede Orlando had a point. Quickly he untied the two silk ties that had held Orlando captive to his whims for the past half-hour and watched as Orlando followed the directive and rolled to his front.

Orlando gasped as his neglected and weeping cock brushed against the cool, crisp sheets. A stinging slap to his rear had him gasping louder.

“Not yet. On your knees, hands on the headboard, and do not let go.” 

Prompt #6 – Sensitive

The bed shifted and Orlando smiled when he felt Viggo’s chest pressed tightly against his back. The thick cock pressed up against his perineum, eliciting a throaty moan when he felt the flared head nudge his balls from that angle.

“Do you deserve this?” Viggo asked, pressing hard to that sensitive spot.

Orlando’s head fell back onto Viggo’s shoulder. “Yes… please… I…”

“You’re begging again,” he reminded.

“Sss… sorry.”

“You want my cock, Angel? Want me buried deep inside you?” Viggo bit at the juncture where neck met shoulder.


Viggo reached beneath the pillow, pulling out a familiar tube. 

Prompt #7 – Touch

Orlando breathed a small sigh. Relief was finally at hand. He welcomed the cold touch of Viggo’s fingers against him, embraced the burn that resulted from stretching the tight ring of muscle, gave himself over to the feeling of the intimate caresses that heralded things to come.

Knuckles white from the strain of keeping them anchored to the headboard, he breathed deeply as Viggo slowly worked his way into the tight channel, each ingress followed by a slight retreat, only to delve deeper with the next stroke.

“Oh yesssss…” Orlando gasped as Viggo claimed his body and soul once again. 

Prompt #8 – Greedy

Viggo shook with the strain of maintaining the slow, steady pace when what he really wanted was to lay siege to Orlando’s enticing body, pummel the tight sheath that surrounded his aching member, cover the broad shoulders with bite marks, leave crescent shaped indentations on hips that he gripped tightly in his pursuit of nirvana.

The smell of musk filled his nostrils, calling to his inner-animal in a bid to claim the body before him. Paint-stained fingers slid into sienna sweat-soaked curls, his grip firm as he pulled his mate’s head back and claimed Orlando’s lips in a fiery kiss. 

Prompt #9 – Rough

So that was how Viggo wanted to play.

Orlando moaned at the sudden show of possession, something he missed when they were apart. He loved it when Viggo held him down and fucked him senseless, loved the times when his lover would grab a handful of hair while he was sucking him off, and the bruises that Viggo’s bites left… those he wore like badges of honor.

The thick cock sliding into him was relentless and he braced himself, arms straight, hands still gripping the headboard, and met each of Viggo’s hard thrusts with a near-violent push of his own. 

Prompt #10 – Hand

“Yeah, that’s it,” Viggo said as he moved one hand to Orlando’s hip, the other sliding from the sienna curls to the young man’s shoulder, his grip firm in both places as his pace quickened. “You love it when I fuck you like this, don’t you?”

“Love it anytime you fuck me,” Orlando said through gritted teeth. There was pain, yes, in his hands, shoulders and arms from bracing himself against the manic pounding he was taking. But there was also a tremendous amount of pleasure that wracked his body when Viggo thrust into him at just the right angle.  

Prompt #11 – Obedient

Viggo found his control slipping with each thrust into the enticing body before him, and if he was close to losing it, he knew that Orlando had probably passed that point some time ago. Yet he was still holding on, gripping the headboard as instructed, and taking everything Viggo gave him.

“Let go.” Viggo moved his hands to Orlando’s and pried the clenched fingers from their wooden hold, then wrapped his arms around Orlando’s torso and leaned back, settling the young man astride his thighs.

“Ohhhh…” Orlando moaned loudly as the thick cock inside him pressed delightfully against his prostate. 

Prompt #12 – Well Fucked

Sienna curls covered Viggo’s left shoulder as Orlando’s head fell back onto it. “Vig…”

“Don’t move,” Viggo said as he held the lithe body tightly and began to roll his hips ever so slowly, his cock stimulating Orlando’s pleasure center relentlessly.

Orlando placed one arm over Viggo’s and lifted the other to Viggo’s shoulder, his fingers burrowing deeply into the blond hair, gripping tightly.

“You’re driving me mad,” he whispered as his body fought to hold off the orgasm that had been building.

A pair of soft lips brushed Orlando’s cheek. “Want me to stop?” he asked, though he made no motion to do so.

“Fuck nooooo,” Orlando groaned as the thick cock inside him continued its erotic torture.

Viggo slid a hand between Orlando’s legs and gently cupped his balls, causing the young man to gasp in pleasure. Teasing fingers trailed up and down the weeping shaft, sliding easily through the clear fluid leaking from the tip.


Viggo gripped the flushed column of flesh and stroked it quickly just as his other hand moved to cover Orlando’s mouth to muffle the yell he knew would accompany his lover’s release.

Orlando’s cock twitched and then Viggo’s fist and the sheets were anointed with Orlando’s release. True to form, a loud groan filled the room, one that would have caused their neighbors to call hotel security if the sound had not been subdued.

Viggo released the sated shaft and quickly pushed Orlando’s chest down to the bed, gripped his hips tightly and pursued his own completion. After several moments, he felt his balls tighten and then he was coming, bathing the walls of Orlando’s still-pulsing sheath with his seed.

Long minutes passed as they slowly came down from the adrenaline rush their joining had caused. Viggo slipped from Orlando’s body and rolled to his side, pulling the young man into his arms.

Orlando nuzzled the soft skin between Viggo’s neck and shoulder and sighed contentedly.

“I take it you enjoyed that?” Viggo asked as he slowly trailed his fingers up and down Orlando’s arm.

A tired nod was followed by a yawn. “I always enjoy your so-called punishments. Makes me want to wind you up that much more often,” Orlando offered as his body slowly relaxed.

“Just remember that I’m not as young as I used to be, so let’s try to keep it to something manageable,” Viggo said as he fought off his own yawn that threatened.

“Think you can handle me ravishing you later?” Orlando asked as his fingers carded through the nest of curls that surrounded Viggo’s quiescent cock.

Warm lips pressed a kiss to Orlando’s forehead as he directed the inquisitive fingers away from their current position and settled them on Viggo’s chest, over his heart. “I think that can be arranged, just… let me get some shut-eye first, okay? Then you can ravish all you want.”

“Sounds good to me,” Orlando said with another yawn. “After our nap.”

“After our nap,” Viggo agreed before both men drifted into a dreamscape filled with erotic images of a thorough ravishing.

Chapter Text

“Pancakes,” Orlando mumbled from beneath the mound of blankets covering the bed.

“Sounds good,” Viggo answered as his eyes continued to scan the pages of the book he was reading.


Viggo eyed the lump next to him and sighed. “I’m reading.”

“And I’m hungry.”

“So get up and go fix your pancakes.”

“But it’s cold out there,” Orlando pointed out.

Viggo would bet the farm his Elf-boy was sporting a pretty serious pout right about now.

“Probably,” Viggo said as he turned his attention back to his book.

Orlando was quiet for a few moments and then the blankets shifted. Viggo tried not to jump when he felt a finger tracing a circle around his navel.

“I’ll give you lots of snuggles if you go fix pancakes for breakfast,” Orlando said before adding a teasing tongue to the attempted bribery.

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Viggo asked as he tried not to react to the teasing touches. His willpower lasted all of thirty seconds. He lifted the blankets and scooted down on the bed, entering his lover’s warm nest.

“How about you give me snuggles first and then we’ll see about breakfast?”

Chapter Text

The evening was warm as the two men meandered around the area, ducking into shops when something caught their eye, sampling the local fare, and just enjoying their time together. Viggo had lost count the number of shops he had been dragged into since EVERYTHING seemed to catch the Brit’s eye, in one fashion or other, though the young man had yet to purchase one single item on tonight’s excursion. He was sure Orlando would make up for it on some other venture, and ‘Viggo the Lover’ would become ‘Viggo the Packhorse’, weighted down with an ungodly amount of bags bearing the logos of various island shops.

Of course, Orlando would make it up to the American once they returned to their lodgings, a restored, two-story Bahamian house surrounded by all manner of flora and fauna, artfully arranged to give the inhabitants their privacy. Even though their temporary home featured a fully equipped kitchen, neither man felt inclined to lift a finger where that part of the house was concerned, unless it was for a late night, or early morning, snack after an enthusiastic round of lovemaking, or two.

The shelves of the refrigerator were laden with various fruits and vegetables, several containers of gourmet spreads, an assortment of crackers and wafers, and bottled water. There hadn’t been a night go by since their arrival that they hadn’t ventured into the room as it was bathed in silver moonlight, the curtains dancing to a tune orchestrated by the warm wind blowing in from the Gulf.

Orlando led them away from the shops on Front Street and took a right onto Simonton, his eyes lighting up when he caught sight of the teal and cream-colored building. He had seen this place on Road Tasted, a show that Paula Dean’s sons hosted on Food Network, and promised himself that he would check it out the next time he was in the Keys.

“Look, there it is,” Orlando said with barely-contained enthusiasm as he took Viggo’s hand and picked up the pace. He was practically vibrating down the sidewalk and Viggo hoped he didn’t wet himself like cocker spaniels did when they became excited. He chuckled at his silliness.

At first, Viggo thought the establishment was a toy store, thanks to the circular sign over the door sporting a giraffe. It wouldn’t be the first time Orlando had hared off into a toy store with him in tow. As they approached the doors, Viggo noticed the neon pink and green ice-cream cone in the window and he relaxed. Not a toy store. Maybe an ice-cream parlor or something like that.

Then something else caught his eye.


Viggo smiled to himself. His Elf Boy would be getting something very special later that night. Key lime pie was Viggo’s Achilles’ heel when it came to sweets and he wondered how in the world Orlando had kept this a secret until now. He tried not to stumble as Orlando hastily tugged him through the doors and bounced up to the counter, though Viggo tried to approach at a more leisurely ‘adult’ pace.

“Surprise,” the young man said as he wrapped his arm around Viggo’s waist and squeezed gently. “I saw this place on the Food Network, on the show that Bobby and Jamie Dean have, you know, Paula’s boys? When we decided to come to the Keys for a vacation, I knew we had to come here. And if that wasn’t enough, look,” he said as he pointed to the menu hanging on the wall beside the register. “They sell maté!”

Viggo’s smile grew. Oh yes. Orlando would be getting something extra-special when they made it back to their place later.

“I’d like to try the pie on a stick,” the Brit conveyed to the lady behind the counter and then turned to Viggo, who was still looking over his choices.

“I’ll take a slice of pie, no chocolate, no stick,” he said with a grin. “And a Yerba Maté.”

Orlando grinned at his lover while the employee prepared their order, though he made no move to retrieve any cash from his wallet. Sneaky brat, Viggo thought as he removed his ever-present backpack from his shoulder and set it on the counter. After fishing around in the pack for a few moments, pulling out various items that got in his way – a couple of small note pads, pens, a… stapler? – setting them on the counter as he searched for his wallet.

“Do I even want to know why you have a stapler in your bag?” Orlando asked as he eyed the red implement.

“In case I need to staple something,” Viggo said with a grin as he finally located his wallet.

“As long as it’s not me,” Orlando said as he nudged his lover with his shoulder and began to put the extracted items back into the bag. “Crazy human.”

Viggo leaned close and whispered into Orlando’s ear. “I’d never staple you, babe. Now, nailing, on the other hand, sounds about right. What do you think?”

The arrival of their snacks halted Orlando’s reply but Viggo knew from the twinkle in his lover’s eye that he was keen on the idea.

His three favorite things in this world – a slice of award winning key lime pie, a Yerba Maté, and nailing Orlando Bloom – all in one night?

It was like Christmas in August!

* * *

A/N: The Blond Giraffe was featured on Road Tasted on May 27, 2007 and I knew then that if I ever make it to the Keys, I would be dropping in to try their chocolate-covered pie on a stick. Their website can be found here.

Chapter Text

The normally quiet neighborhood was a beehive of activity as costumed children darted from door to door, seeking the ultimate Halloween treat. Their tote bags and pumpkin shaped buckets were filled to the brim with an assortment of items: candy, stickers, glow in the dark bracelets, and pencils. Homemade goodies ranged from popcorn balls to crispy treats to caramel apples on a stick.

Sidi was practically vibrating with excitement each time a group of little ones approached the house, the canine ready for another round of attention. Once the revelers collected their bounty, he would lay at the steps until the next group came.

Orlando sat on the porch, his back propped against one of the support posts. Beside him sat a large plastic cauldron holding what little candy they had left. It had been a busy night. Viggo had opted for the swing in the shadows at the end of the porch, away from the hustle and bustle of the evening, yet close enough to enjoy watching his lover interact with the kids.

The smell of freshly bloomed roses permeated the air beneath the porch. Viggo reached over, careful not to spill the glass of wine he had brought out with him, and reverently touched one of the silky petals. Certain areas of his Bloom’s skin felt the same way, he thought with a smile; the skin on the inside of his lover’s wrist, the area right behind an ear.

“Should I be jealous?” Orlando asked as he watched his lover caress the dainty blossom.

A car pulling into the driveway halted Viggo’s answer. The two men watched as Henry extracted his daughter from the car seat in the back and whispered something to her before setting her on the ground.

Gone was Gracie, their grandchild, and in her place, a little black kitten crawling across the lawn – and meowing – as she approached the house. Henry walked beside her, carrying a fluorescent green tote bag with a hot-pink skeleton stitched onto it.

Laughter filled the air as both men watched the kitten come closer. Sidi was pawing at the wooden planks, whining and straining against his leash that was tied to one of the decorative spindles.

“Well, well,” Orlando said as he moved to sit on the top step. “What do we have here?”

“Meow,” came the small voice.

“Hmm, I think that sounds like a kitten. Vig, do we have a kitten?” he asked as Viggo joined him on the steps.

Viggo shook his head. “No. No kitten. I know we used to have a granddaughter who was attached to Henry’s hip each time he came for a visit. Maybe he traded Gracie for a kitten,” he teased.

Gracie shook her head, the tiny kitten-eared headband wobbling a bit. “Meow,” said the kitten again.

“Well, Henry is here, but I don’t see Gracie anywhere. I guess we’ll just have to get rid of all the dolls and toys we have here,” Orlando mused.

“NO!” cried Gracie as she got to her feet and ran to the porch, a long, back tail trailing behind. She threw herself into Viggo’s arms. “It’s me, Grand-Dad and Paw-Paw Lando! I’m Gracie!”

Viggo enveloped the little girl in a tight hug, holding her close. She buried her face into his neck, smudging her painted-on whiskers (eyeliner) and pink nose (lipstick).

Enwina-atar,” she said quietly.

Arwenamin,” Viggo answered before pressing a kiss to the dark hair of his four year old granddaughter. “So you are Gracie! What brings you to our kingdom?”

Gracie turned in Viggo’s embrace and settled herself in his lap. “Daddy said I could come show you my costume,” she said proudly. “You like it?”

“You’re the prettiest kitten we’ve seen all night,” Orlando said as he picked up the end of Gracie’s kitten tail and tweaked her nose with it. “You had us fooled for a minute, you know. You sounded just like a real kitten!”

“I practiced on the way over here,” she said proudly.

“More like drove me crazy,” Henry muttered with a smile.

Viggo laughed. “Welcome to parenthood.”

“Where’s Heather?” Orlando asked as Henry joined the family on the steps of the house.

“At home, passing out candy. We took Gracie around the neighborhood for a bit, then she went back to do candy duty while we came over here for a quick visit.”

Gracie exchanged Viggo’s lap for Orlando’s, eyeing the cauldron that held the candy. "Paw-Paw,” she whispered, “can I have some candy?”

“Have you been a good little kitten?” Orlando whispered back.

“Yes, sir,” she said with a quick nod, her kitten ears bobbing again.

Orlando tipped the cauldron so Gracie could reach into it. “Then dig in,” he said with a grin. He looked over at Henry. “One of the perks of being a grandparent. We can spoil her rotten and then send her back home.”

A small cluster of kids came up the sidewalk and Gracie crawled back into Viggo’s lap while Orlando dealt with the newcomers. Sidi had crawled over and lay down beside the man and child, enjoying the attention Gracie lavished upon him. After filling their bags, the kids went on their merry way.

“Well, that’s it for the candy,” Orlando said as he turned the cauldron over, showing them it was empty. “Guess it’s time to call it a night.”

“And we need to get back home,” Henry said as he stood and waited for Gracie to say goodbye to her grandfathers. After much hugging and lip-smacking kisses, Henry managed to wrestle her away from the men and buckle her back into her car seat.

A few minutes later, all was quiet at the Bloom-Mortensen’s. Orlando grabbed Sidi’s leash and carried in the empty cauldron while Viggo retrieved his abandoned wine glass beside the swing. The rose he had been admiring earlier called to him and he quickly cut the bloom from the bush.

He had some experimenting to do.

* * *

Enwina-atar – old father (grandfather)
Arwenamin – my lady

Chapter Text

Orlando knows what this does to his lover, knows that before he finishes off his bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream, the spoon that he seductively curls his tongue around will be thrown across the living room and he’ll be flat on his back and he’ll have Viggo right where he wants him.

He wonders, if given enough time, could he make Viggo come from this, from watching him flick his tongue along the shaft of the spoon, catching every drop of the creamy substance?

Two seconds later, he has his answer.

Spoon flying. Flat on back.

Guess not.

Chapter Text

Sean lowered the Sunday paper, eyeing the rain that beat a steady tempo against the bedroom window before meandering its way down the glass to pool in the California redwood window box where he had lovingly planted various colored poppies the day before. He could practically hear his little darlings soaking up the fresh rainwater.

Sidi lay sprawled in his self-proclaimed spot on the padded window seat, all gangly legs and even longer body, his paws twitching as he dreamed of hours spent outside, chasing whatever caught his fancy.

Rascal, the stray black and white cat that had suddenly appeared one day and never left, lay quietly on the opposite end of the bench, his tail swishing back and forth, a sure sign of agitation, Sean guessed, from being cooped up in the house, rather than out "catting around", as the men liked to call it. Or terrorizing Sean's carefully tended flowerbeds, the Brit mused. There were several memorable occasions of Cat versus Man Wielding Rake or Cat versus Man Holding Water Hose, but even after the dire threats that Sean hurled at the capricious feline, as well as a few handheld spades and trowels, the cat remained.

Beside Sean, someone stirred beneath the mound of covers; Viggo, if he had to guess, since Orlando never seemed to make an appearance until late morning, and on a few occasions, early afternoon, depending on how exhausted he was after the two older men had finished with him. Retribution would be sweet, though; it always was. Whether Orlando decided to immediately mete out their so-called punishment, or to wait until a later time when the two men had all but forgotten about it, being ravished by their young and enthusiastic lover was something they always looked forward to.

An arm wrapped around Sean's left thigh before a pair of warm lips pressed a chaste kiss to the golden skin they found, light stubble catching in the coarse hair. He had guessed right; it was Viggo. Orlando's stubble was soft, like the treasure trail Sean's lips had followed countless times before.

Tossing the newspaper to the floor, Sean pushed back the covers and peered down at the American, who was blinking owlishly at the sudden intrusion of light. The slow burn of arousal licked its way through Sean's body as his lover's breath teased his skin, causing the Brit’s quiescent cock to stir.

Viggo shifted positions, stretched himself out next to Sean, who was reclining back against the headboard. Knowing fingers searched for and found their target, and Viggo lightly squeezed the now semi-erect shaft, causing Sean’s head to fall back with a soft thump. The covers shifted again and Viggo let out an oof as Orlando slid over his back and settled between Sean’s legs.

“No fair playing without me,” Orlando said, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep.

“Figured we wouldn’t see you for a few more hours,” Viggo offered as he leaned over and brushed his lips lightly against Orlando’s, his tongue darting out and tasting a mixture of all three of them there.

Sean slid his fingers into Orlando’s sable locks, brushed his thumb along the young man’s cheek. “Morning, love,” he said and smiled when Orlando pulled away from Viggo and kissed the older Brit’s inner thigh.

“Morning,” the young man replied before nipping at the skin beneath his lips.

Viggo's hand continued its teasing assault, sliding the foreskin up and down the shaft, bringing Sean's arousal into sharp focus. Orlando reached up and caught the bead of moisture that had welled at the tip, and then his finger disappeared between Viggo's lips, offering the prized elixir to his lover. Viggo sucked at the digit, his tongue teasing the pad as he captured his lover's essence. Sean groaned when Orlando quickly removed his finger and caught Viggo's lips in a passionate kiss, the American's stroke never faltering.

The groan turned into a surprised gasp when he felt two sets of lips moving against his cock, two tongues licking at him, curling around his hardness, making their way up to the engorged head, still teasing him, but playing with their mate as well.

Green eyes closed as Sean gave himself over to his lover's care.

He loved lazy mornings.

Chapter Text

Karl stood in the doorway, shock and surprise clearly etched across his dark features.

Sean’s perfectly tended garden, filled with various flora and fauna that only the Brit knew the names of, had been transformed into something that looked as if it had been snatched from someone’s fanciful dream. The flagstone path that led to the rustic arbor that Karl had lovingly built was lined with dozens of luminaries, while the carefully-tended hedges and trees were filled with twinkling white lights. The soft strains of music could be heard if one listened carefully.

The rustle of fabric to Karl’s left caught his attention and he turned to find his lover leaning against one of the porch supports, a glass of whisky in hand.

“We hosting someone’s nuptials I didn’t know about?” the Kiwi asked.

“Me wives complained that I never did anything romantic for them,” Sean said as he approached his lover, a sheepish look on his face.

“Then I feel most honored,” Karl said as he took the crystal tumbler from Sean’s hand and swallowed what was left of the amber liquid. “It’s beautiful. Must have taken you some time to get it all together.”

“Called in a few favors,” Sean said as he took the glass from Karl and set it on the patio table. “Dance with me?”

Karl took Sean’s outstretched hand and together they slowly made their way to the arbor.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Sean admitted quietly as he gathered Karl in his arms and they began to sway to the music.

“All you had to do was ask.”

“Wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

Karl chuckled. “I knew there was more to you than what meets the eye. So why now? Why the change?”

“Decided it was time to learn from my past mistakes.”

Chapter Text

Gracie sat at the breakfast bar, tapping away on her Papa Lando’s laptop and giggling quietly to herself.

“What are you up to, young lady?” Viggo asked with a smile as he stood at the kitchen sink peeling potatoes.

“Nothing,” came the less-than-innocent reply.

Hands paused and blue eyes met mischievous brown ones over the laptop screen.

“Care to try that again?”

Gracie nibbled at her lip, a habit she had picked up from her other grandfather. “It’s nothing bad, I swear. I was just playing with Madlibs.”

Ahh, now Viggo understood. “Those things still around? I remember when your daddy used to play with those, except they were with pencil and paper,” he said as he dropped the peeler into the sink, wiped his hands clean and joined his granddaughter at the bar. “So what do you have so far?”

Gracie turned the laptop so her grandpa could see the screen. “I have the first three filled in already.”

Viggo read them over and nodded in approval at her word choices. “Looks good.”

“Do you want to play?”

“Play what?” Orlando asked as he and Sidi came into the kitchen. Sidi went straight to his water bowl while Orlando made a beeline to the refrigerator for a bottle of his own water.

“Like father like son?” Viggo asked when Orlando joined them.

“Appears that way,” the Brit said as he pulled up another barstool and sat on the other side of Gracie. “So, what are you two up to?”

“Papa was going to play Madlibs with me,” Gracie replied. “You can play too!”

Orlando rubbed his hands together quickly. “All right. Fire away!”

“I need a noun,” Gracie pronounced.

“Shepherd,” Orlando answered immediately.

“Where in the world did that come from?” Viggo asked with a grin as Gracie typed in the answer.

Orlando shrugged. “Have no idea.”

“Okay, your turn, Papa. Piece of furniture?”

“Dresser,” Viggo answered.

The trio went on like this for several rounds until Gracie had all the words she needed. After hitting the submit button, she stared at the screen for a minute, reading what her grandpas had come up with.

“Well?” Orlando asked and then listened as Gracie read their joint Madlib.

“One day while I was running in the bedroom a sunny shepherd fell through the roof. It immediately jumped on the dresser and knocked over the tree. Then it ran out the door into the kitchen and cooked a locomotive off the chair. It then knocked a glass of cool-aid off the coffee table. After four minutes of chasing the shepherd through the house I finally caught it and put it outside. It quickly climbed the nearest paper.”

Gracie looked from one grandpa to the other. “You two aren’t very good at this. The ones I did by myself were much funnier,” she said before closing the laptop and heading into the living room.

The men looked at each other for a moment. “Well, I thought it was funny,” Orlando offered. “I’m surprised she didn’t like it, having your strange sense of humor and all.”

Viggo pretended to be offended. “And what does that say about you?”

Setting a hand on the vacated barstool, Orlando leaned over and brushed his lips against his partner’s. “That I’m just as crazy for loving you all these years.”

Chapter Text

Pop Sorry

Pop Sorry

“Damn it!”

Pop Slurp


“Babe?  What’s going on?”

Pop Sorry

A pause.

Pop Sorry



Eyes study the screen intently.

Pop Slurp


“What are those noises?”

“What noises?”

“The ones coming from your laptop.”

“I’m playing Mahjongg.”

Pop Sorry

“Fucking hell!  They do match!”


“The game tiles.”

“Game tiles?”

“Yeah, the game tiles.  You match two at a time until the board is clear.”

Pop Slurp


“I take it that’s a good noise?”

Brown eyes peer over the screen.

“Pop Slurp is ALWAYS a good noise.  Do you need a reminder?”

Chapter Text

Across the span of the cloth-covered bench seat, Orlando glared at his lover as the old Chevy truck bounced and lurched its way through the field (no, the pasture, as Viggo called it) and wondered if the hunk of junk (as Orlando liked to call it) would hold together. Viggo would smile and pat the dashboard, telling "Betsy" not to listen to Orlando and that Viggo loved her no matter how many pieces of duct tape were holding her together.

He really should have stayed at the house, Orlando thought, thus insuring that his insides would remain where they were supposed to be, but he was only home for a few weeks and wanted to spend every moment he could with the older man.

He looked over his shoulder into the bed of the truck where the dogs appeared to be holding on for dear life, their paws seemingly glued to the bed of the old truck as it navigated a path visible to only Viggo. Orlando was sure if he asked Viggo why they didn't use the dirt road, the crazy man would come back with something like "Aragorn never used a road in his many wanderings of Middle Earth. Why should I?"

Orlando's quiet giggles went unnoticed as Viggo continued on his merry way, singing along with the radio about being a rambling man, the irony not lost on the Brit. A rambling man Viggo might be, but he was Orlando's rambling man.

Chapter Text

The hot California sun beat down on Viggo, drying the beads of sweat that covered his forehead and arms before he had a chance to wipe it off. His shirt clung to him like a second skin and it was only mid-morning. Road construction had to be the worst job he had ever had the misfortune of working, but money was money, and right now he needed it. Ignoring the ever-present ache in his shoulders, he climbed up into the cab of the bulldozer and looked out over the sea of metal that was crawling along at a snail’s pace.


Orlando sighed in frustration as the line of cars stopped again. Would there ever be a time when the freeway wasn’t being worked on? Doubtful, he thought as he leaned back against the leather upholstery, watching the workers as they went about their business. One in particular caught his notice and he watched the play of muscles beneath the sun-kissed skin as the man maneuvered a large piece of machinery around the worksite with ease. Traffic moved a few yards and then Orlando went back to his people-watching, or rather, man-watching, and decided that road construction wasn’t all that bad.


Unbeknownst to Orlando, he was being watched as well. Truth be told, Viggo had been watching the young man for several days, knew he was being watched in return. The sly smile on the beautiful face as Orlando passed by the day before had given him away, but Viggo was still waiting. Today’s exchange was a quick glance over a pair of Ray-Bans, eyebrows raised just a fraction, possibly a taunt, one that Viggo would love to follow through on. He’d bend the little tease over the hood of his convertible and fuck him until neither of them could walk.


Orlando looked over the construction site as he inched his way down the freeway and was a bit miffed that he didn’t see his construction worker. That quickly changed when he caught sight of the shaggy-haired man standing among a group of workers near the end of the work area. Damn, those Levi’s look good on him, he thought with a grin. Traffic was still crawling when he reached the man and Orlando shifted in his seat when sky-blue eyes met his over the windshield. He received a quick nod and small smile from the handsome-as-sin man and Orlando melted.


Playing flagman had to be the worst aspect of road construction work, and Viggo hated taking his turn at it - stop traffic to allow the large machines to get into position, release the traffic once it was settled. Boring as shit, but that was part of the job and everyone had to do it at some point. However, he was actually looking forward to it, for one reason only … the beautiful young man driving the black Mercedes convertible. Viggo smiled when he finally caught sight of the sleek automobile bringing the object of his recent nighttime fantasies closer to him.


Orlando could not believe his good fortune. He reached into the center console and pulled out a piece of paper, one that he had tucked there the day before, just in case. His pulse raced as he inched his way closer to his construction worker. Could he really do this? It really wasn’t any different than picking someone up at a bar, other than the locality. He was certain the other man was interested; each day that they played their little game assured Orlando he was on the right track. Smiling, he handed over the paper as he passed by.


Club XTC was packed to the rafters and it took several minutes for Viggo to shuffle his way to the bar through the sea of swaying bodies. Drink in hand, he turned to survey the crowd, hoping to find the young man as quickly as possible. The note had said to meet him at ten; it was fifteen after and Viggo wondered, not for the first time, if he were being played. He had his answer a few moments later when a vision dressed in black leather pants topped by a partially-unbuttoned white shirt slid into his personal space. Damn.


“Come with me,” Orlando said as he took Viggo’s hand and pulled him into the throng of dancers. Finding a suitable place, he stopped and wrapped Viggo’s arms around his torso, placing the man’s hands at the waistband of his low-slung pants. He leaned back against his partner, pressing his body as close to the other as possible. He felt the man’s denim-covered hardness settle against his ass and knew he was in for one hell of a night. A hand drifted upwards and Orlando moaned as work-roughened fingers slid into his shirt and gently tugged on his nipple ring.


“Like that?” Viggo gave it another tug and was rewarded with the young man’s ass pressed harder against him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said as he lowered his lips to the man’s neck and licked at the sweat-damp skin. While one hand continued to tease the golden hoop, the other settled over the evidence of his partner’s arousal and pressed down, earning another moan from the beauty in his arms. “Hmmm, could I make you come like this?” Viggo breathed into the man’s ear, his tongue teasing the fleshy lobe. “Or maybe you had something else in mind?”


Seconds after crossing the threshold of his apartment, Orlando found himself pressed chest-first against the wall, slick fingers stretching his passage, and then Viggo was pushing into him, stretching him even further, filling him like no other. “Fuck me so I feel you for days.” Orlando braced his hands on the wall, pushing back each time his lover slammed into him. It didn’t take long, both men more than ready for their release. Orlando gasped when Viggo teased his nipple ring, the other hand stroking his cock, pulling his orgasm from him. Viggo found his completion a few seconds later.


Hours later found two sated bodies in a sea of twisted sheets and blankets, wrapped around each other as they napped, gathering strength for their next go-around. This time, it was Viggo’s turn to groan as he floated towards consciousness, thanks to a very talented mouth that was coaxing his cock back into the game. “Have mercy on an old man, here,” he mumbled and glanced down to see what he assumed was a smirk from his young lover. It was hard to tell when his dick was halfway down Orlando’s throat and those luscious lips were stretched around him.


Sharing breakfast with someone after spending the night together was something new to Orlando. Usually his entertainment for the evening had already vacated the premises, but there he was, dressed in a tee-shirt that had seen better days and wearing a pair of faded jeans that would fall off if given a good yank, cooking up bacon, eggs, and toast for the two of them. The coffee would be ready shortly. Viggo had proven to be a very attentive and skilled lover, one that Orlando wouldn’t mind seeing again. He wondered what the other man’s feelings were on that point.


When Viggo crawled into a cab later that afternoon, he had decided that working on a road construction crew wasn’t so bad, after all. In his pocket was a card with Orlando’s cell number on it, and they had plans to meet for dinner later in the week. He was looking forward to getting to know The Man, as he had already become intimately acquainted with The Beautiful Adonis, several times during the previous night. Until then, he would continue to watch Orlando make his daily trek through Viggo’s construction area. Hell, he might even pass him his own note.

Chapter Text


Viggo’s eyes widened in amusement. "Pantheon?" he repeated, wanting to make sure he understood his lover.

Because really, when Sean was laid out before him, with all that delectable golden skin taunting his senses, how was he not to become lost in reverie, thinking of all the things he wanted to do to his lover?

Sean smirked. "Did you not say to choose a word you normally wouldn’t use while engaged in activities with less than honorable intentions?"

"I don’t think I put it quite like that," Viggo said as he trailed a teasing finger over the quivering muscles of Sean’s stomach. "Though I do like the ‘less than honorable intentions’ part."

"Aye, so do I," Sean rasped as his aching shaft was surrounded by wet heat.

Chapter Text

Orlando stood at the railing of the porch, enjoying the sights and sounds of the night. It was quiet, the waves lapping at the shoreline breaking the silence around him. A multitude of stars shone brightly above, something he had not realized he had missed until they were gone.

He had learned the hard way that you never really missed something – or someone – until they were gone, and every day since then, Orlando had offered up silent apologies for what he had done to the one that still held his heart.

He knew it was childish, and even though the sky was full of stars, the words still fell from his lips, like they had all those years ago when life was damn-near perfect.

"Star light, star bright, the first star I see tonight."

A gust of wind wrapped itself around him, causing him to shiver and wrap his jacket tighter around his chilled body.

"I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight," he finished quietly as a single tear slid from the corner of his eye. "You will never know how sorry I am for what I did."

"Apology accepted," a quiet voice said behind him.

Lips parting with a surprised gasp, Orlando whirled around to face the one and only man he would ever love and within seconds, filled the arms that were open and waiting for him.

Chapter Text

Turning the page of the book he was currently reading, Orlando tried to ignore the uneasiness he felt, but it was a losing battle. He warily eyed the small gathering of pigeons that were pecking the ground in search of something to eat, not too far from where he and Viggo were relaxing on a blanket in the park.

“Angel, they’re not going to bother you,” Viggo said as he caught the uncomfortable look on his lover’s face. “If they get any closer, we’ll let Sidi have a snack.”

Orlando tried to hide his smile. “Think they taste like chicken?”


Chapter Text

Sean wasn’t sure which sound he relished more…

The thunderstorm that raged outside; its booming thunder shaking the house in its intensity scant seconds after lightning illuminated the bedroom, briefly highlighting the two men on the bed.

The sound of steel handcuffs grating against the wrought-iron headboard as the man below him struggled to give all he had to his older lover.

The sounds of broken gasps and curses falling from kiss-swollen lips as he brought Karl closer to the completion the younger man all but begged for.

Or maybe it was the combination of all three.

Deciding that his lover had suffered enough teasing for one night, Sean wrapped his hand around the Kiwi’s neglected cock and with a few firm pulls, gave Karl what he longed for.

Later, as they were drifting in a cloud of sated bliss, Sean realized that while each sound was erotic in its own way, it was the sound of three little words whispered against his sweat-slick skin that he treasured most.

Chapter Text


So *now* you finally get me name right, he thought bitterly as he continued to dress.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology hung between them. 

“I can’t keep doing this.”

“I know.”  A resigned sigh.

Hand on the doorknob, Sean finally turned.  “You need to tell him.”

“I know.  It’s just… I don’t know if I could take it if…”

“And you’ll never know unless you try.”

The door closed and Sean was gone.

The moon was high in the sky when he reached for the phone and dialed the number from memory.


It was time to take a risk.

Chapter Text

Sean was reaching for his jeans when a soft voice near his left ear had him nearly jumping from his skin.

“What’s this?  The Steward of Gondor slinking away from the royal bedchamber in the middle of the night?”

“Fooking Christ, Orli!  You nearly gave me a heart-attack!”

The unrepentant man ignored the outburst and wrapped his arms around his lover’s torso.  “I don’t recall you being given permission to leave.”

“Didn’t realize I needed it.”

“That eager to get away from us?” a sleep-gravelly voice asked from the bed. 

Sean looked over his shoulder and his jaw dropped.  Viggo was leaning back against the headboard, his long fingers teasing his reawakening flesh.

“Stay the night, Sean,” Orlando requested as his right hand drifted down to the man’s boxer, a finger dipping just beneath the elastic band, teasing the sensitive patch of skin he had found earlier in the evening.  “You know you want to.”

Who in their right mind wouldn’t? Sean thought, but this was something new between the three of them, and he wasn’t sure what protocol was in this situation.

“Come back to bed, Sean,” Viggo commanded.

“Yes, my King,” he answered with a smile.

Chapter Text

The cabin was quiet when Sean emerged from the bedroom, hair sticking out at odd angles, his well-worn jeans and beloved Blades t-shirt wrinkled from sitting in a pile on the floor for more hours than they were used to. That, he mused, was better than Viggo literally ripping said clothing items off of him completely in his haste to get the Brit naked as quickly as possible. It had happened before and it was bound to happen again at some point, but luckily his clothes had survived this round.

He paused in the living room for a moment where he picked up the remote control from the end table and turned on the telly, quickly finding the sports station he needed. He leaned a jean-clad hip against the back of the couch for a few minutes, hoping to hear that the Blades had won their match earlier that day. Unfortunately, the footie gods weren’t cooperating; the sports commentators were all carrying on about baseball stats and trade deadlines, something Sean had absolutely no interest in. He pressed the OFF button, tossed the remote onto the couch and continued his search for his errant lover. Not that he expected Viggo to be inside the telly; it was just a habit of his - no matter where he was in the world, if there was a telly close by, he was going to check on his Blades.

There were only two more places to check, two places where Viggo would disappear to while Sean dealt with his jetlag, catching up on his much needed sleep. After finding the studio empty, he opened the back door and stepped onto the covered porch, his gaze taking in the beauty of the surrounding area. It might be Viggo’s name on the deed, but together the two of them had made it a home, their private retreat, a place to hide away from the world.

Just as Sean was stepping off of the porch, he caught sight of Viggo leaving the barn and entering the connecting paddock, their newest acquisition obediently following alongside. He watched as Viggo tied Honey’s lead rope to one of the fence posts and then proceeded to brush down the buckskin Andalusian. Sean could hear snatches of the one-sided conversation, soothing words here and there that floated to him on a warm breeze, though every now and then he thought he caught the sound of a soft whicker, as if the six-month old filly were replying. His lover definitely had a way with horses.

“Would you look at that, Honey Girl? He is alive!” Viggo said with a grin. “Last time I saw him he was dead to the world.” Blue eyes met green over the fence’s top rail. “You plannin’ on standin’ there all afternoon or you wanna come take care of your baby?”

Sean chuckled. “Thought I did that earlier,” he said with a quick tip of the head back towards the cabin.

Viggo quickly covered the filly’s ears. “None of that kind of talk in front of the little one!” he teased.

“Aye,” Sean said as he unlatched the gate and joined Viggo and Honey inside the paddock. “Good thing she wasn’t listening earlier then. Probably would have traumatized the lass. You can be a right demanding bastard at times, you know that?”

“Only when you don’t give me what I want,” the American said with a wink. “Here, take this and finish brushing her down while I go grab a smaller one so we can work on her mane and tail.” Viggo handed the brush to Sean and disappeared inside the barn.

“See that, Honey Girl? Your papa is a demanding old coot, but I wouldn’t have him any other way,” Sean said with affection as he continued to brush the tan hide.

Chapter Text

Viggo was awakened by what sounded like his entire kitchen being rearranged. Pots and pans clanged together, muttered curses littered the air. 

So, his Elf was making him breakfast on his birthday. The older man grimaced. 

While his lover might be good at some things, cooking was not one of them. For a moment, his mind drifted to the item that claimed the number one spot of that list, causing certain parts of his anatomy to react. Time enough for food later, he thought with a grin as he pushed the blankets aside. 

What he wanted wasn’t on the menu.

Chapter Text

From Karl’s window seat in first class, the Kiwi caught a glimpse of Heathrow Airport as the plane banked to the right, before straightening out and lining up for their landing. Somewhere down there, Sean was waiting for him. If he knew his lover, and Karl liked to think he knew Sean about as well as anyone could, he would bet the Brit was sitting in one of the airport pubs, passing the time with a glass, or three, of Glennfidditch.

Karl couldn’t fault him, though. It was common knowledge that Sean had a fear of flying, but what people didn’t know about the rough-around-the-edges Sheffield native was that he hated it when Karl flew, as well. Spending time with a few glasses of scotch while he awaited his lover’s arrival was the way he dealt with the situation.

The dark-haired Kiwi breathed a sigh of relief when the wheels of the plane kissed the tarmac, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before he and Sean would be together again. He turned on his cell phone as the plane taxied up to the terminal and finally came to a stop. It was everything Karl could do not to open the hatch himself and make a mad dash through the airport, searching for the man he had been missing for three long weeks.

Sean’s text message finally came through – The Tin Goose – and Karl knew exactly where to find his lover.

It was twenty-five minutes later when their eyes met and held in the mirror over the dimly lit bar. Karl’s pulse raced from the naked longing he saw in Sean’s eyes, longing he was sure that mirrored his own.

Sean sat the crystal tumbler down and turned in his seat, eyeing his lover from head to toe, as if assuring himself that the man standing in front of him was not a figment of his imagination, but was, indeed, flesh and blood. Christ, but he had missed Karl.

“Got everything you need?” Sean asked as he eyed the carry-on bag slung over Karl’s shoulder.

A knowing grin played on Karl’s lips. “I will once we get home,” he said with a wink before he turned and walked out of the pub, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that Sean was tossing a few bills onto the polished oak and bidding the bartender a good evening.