Title: Gift for Girlwithtulips

Author: tarotgal

Fandom: RPS

Pairing: Viggo/Orli

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I do not know these men, who are very much real people. I have absolutely no idea if they are anything like this. I am certain, however, this did not actually happen. Moreover, I get no money for writing this fictional story

Summary: Orlando is sick for Christmas and equally unhappy with the fact that Viggo is leaving for the holidays as well.

Notes: Written for Girlwithtulips for the winter holidays, 2004

Gift for Girlwithtulips

     Viggo set his suitcase down at the end of the bed and then sat down closer to the top in the small space between the edge and the bulge beneath the blankets. The bulge shook with silent coughs and Orlando's tired face emerged from beneath. Viggo pressed his palm to Orlando's forehead and held it there for a few moments as he gauged the temperature. While in thought, his thumb stroked the bridge of Orlando's nose absentmindedly. Orlando sniffed to get his attention, and Viggo smiled down at him. "I think your fever's up again." His hand moved down smoothly and slid the thermometer from Orlando's mouth. He barely glanced at it, but his face registered the confirmation of the bad news. "Yep, it's up. Feeling worse I presume?"

Orlando nodded and sniffed hard again. His eyes flickered down to the bottom of the bed. "Getting ready to leave... I presume?" A light tickle in his nose kept him from seeing Viggo's answer. His eyes snapped shut and his hand came up to his face. "uhh-Chuhh! Uhh-uhh-ehhChoo!" His whole body tensed up and then shook.

     Viggo had tissues in his pocket and pulled one out. The tissue box on the nightstand seemed miles away. Orlando kept one hand cupped over his nose and mouth and the other reached out. His hand met Viggo's and wrapped around it at the same time as prying the tissue out. He brought it to his nose but didn't seem to have the energy to do much more. Viggo's hand mirrored Orlando's and took over for it. His eyes were commanding, and Orlando blew his nose.

     Afterwards, Orlando sighed and pushed down the covers a bit, revealing that he was sleeping without a shirt on. "Wish I could go back for the holidays. It's definitely no fun feeling sick a few days before Christmas when it's twenty-two degrees out." He missed the wet, dreary, chilly part of Christmas on the other side of the world. He coughed again and looked up into Viggo's face. "You got a few minutes?"

     "Absolutely," Viggo said, giving a definitive nod.

     With another cough and a few soft sniffles, Orlando sat up. He took a few gulps of water from the glass on his nightstand. Then he leaned into Viggo. Viggo put an arm around the younger man and pulled him closer, until the man's head was in his lap. Viggo ran his hand gently over the short, brown hair which was attempting to grow back in places after being buzzed.

     The elder man's touch was soft and caring in a fatherly sort of way. The fingertips of one hand continued to gently stroke Orlando's head, while his other arm was stretched out against Orlando's side. Viggo understood how bodies fit together, and knew what would make Orlando comfortable. The caring came from somewhere deeper than a fatherly reaction, however. And his deep, dark green eyes clearly looked upon Orlando as a friend and lover.

Orlandos' shoulders sagged and his whole body went heavy with relaxation. His body tingled in the places Viggo touched, hypersensitive because of his fever. He hugged his arms to his chest, sniffling softly until the sniffles led to congestion so heavy that he started coughing. Then Viggo clapped a hand against his back and urged him to sit up a little until he stopped shaking with spasms. The younger man collapsed back into Viggo's lap. He coughed a few times more, but nothing that required him to sit back up again. "Happy Christmas," he muttered sarcastically.

     "This will pass," Viggo assured him. "You just need to keep up with your meds and keep drinking lots of fluids."

Orlando tensed again, and cupped another hand to his face. "Uh-Schoooo! Huh-huh-UhhhChuhhh! Uhh-uh... uh-Chshhhhh!" He snapped forward with each strong wet sneeze. Then he sniffed liquidly and brought his wet hand away awkwardly. "Right dow I ab a fluid."

     Viggo extracted another clean but crumpled tissue from his pocket and handed it over. Orlando rubbed at his nose, then sank back into Viggo's lap with a sigh. "I could definitely do with a drink right about now," Orlando admitted.

     Running his fingertips against the soft brown hair, Viggo nodded. "What can I get you? Juice? Water?"

     "Vodka?" he asked hopefully.

     Viggo laughed. "Not exactly the kind of fluids I had in mind when I said you should drink a lot, Orli." Orlando shrugged. Viggo suspected the younger man had not been entirely serious, however, as he knew from experience Orlando could not hold his liquor. "How about a nice hot cup of tea and honey?" Orlando shrugged again but did not exactly refute the idea.

     However, when Viggo moved to stand up, Orlando reached out and held him down. "Stay just a bit longer," Orlando requested.

     "I will stay as long as you like," Viggo said, nodding.

     He raised a hand to his nose and mouth, letting it hover there a moment as he paused in expectant wait. "uhhh... uhhhEEShuhhhhh! Uhh-uhhhShoo! UhhhShooo!" He sniffled hard and sighed, keeping his eyes closed afterwards. "An offer you may regret," whispered Orlando.

     "I've no intention of taking it back, Elfboy," Viggo whispered back.

Orlandos' eyebrows raised but he kept his eyes closed. "Still, I wouldn't want you to miss your flight home."

     Viggo hesitated in answering for a few moments. Then he chuckled lightly. "Who said I was flying home?"

Orlando opened his eyes and looked up at Viggo. He glanced down at the suitcase, then back up again. He did not understand and did not dare to ask.

     Pausing in petting Orlando's head, Viggo bent over with a soft grunt at the strain, and kissed warm forehead, then equally warm lips. As he sat upright again, he smiled and laughed lightly. "Hope you can spare a bit of space for me in one of your drawers or your closet. Because I ain't goin' anywhere until you're feeling good again." He pulled one of the loose blankets over and draped it over Orlando.

     Soft blanket met bare skin and Orlando shivered as he sat up to face Viggo. He tightened the blanket around himself, though, expecting it to warm up in a few minutes. "You're really going to stay here during the holidays?" He voice sounded rough and was lined with disbelief. Viggo never passed up an opportunity to go home; he always put Henry first.

     Nodding, "Unless you can think of a reason I shouldn't."

Orlando could think of at least a dozen reasons, in fact. But the first one in his mind was Viggo's health. He could just imagine what everyone would say when they found out he was responsible for Viggo coming down sick. The second was Henry, of course. The third--

     "Time's up," Viggo said playfully. "Good. No objections."

     "That's not fair. I didn't have a chance."

     "That was the point," Viggo said, smiling. He put his arm around Orlando and hugged him close again, adding his second arm as the younger man attached himself to Viggo's chest. After an especially tight hug, Viggo's scratchy chin came to rest on Orlando's forehead. "You feel so warm," he whispered.

     "Funny," said Orlando, closing his eyes. "Because I feel chilly again." Viggo gave another squeeze and Orlando grabbed hold of Viggo's shirt to keep Viggo's warmth close. "And I'm sure I must look..."

     "Well, you don't look quite like the perfect elf, that's for sure," Viggo said with a smile in his voice. "But you're not as hard on the eyes as you might think. At least not these eyes. Besides, a little reminder that deep down you're human and not invulnerable can't hurt."

     "That's because you're not the one h... hhhh-hurting... this time." Orlando tensed up, cupping a hand to his face. It would have been a perfect time to mention a number of injuries that had befallen the undoubtedly human Viggo since the start of the shooting. But he did not have the opportunity before sneezing. "HahShhhhhh! UhhhShuhh! Uhhh-HUH-Shoooo!" He sniffed and looked up tiredly, worriedly. "I did't get you, did I?"

     Viggo shook his head. He wouldn't have minded if Orlando had. It would have meant an excuse to stay in bed with him. "How about I make you that cup of tea now?" Orlando did not reply. "With honey and sugar?"

Orlando smiled slowly and nodded. "All right." He sniffed hard and nodded again. "Yeah. All right."

     Pulling his arms back, Viggo started to rise. But Orlando still held onto him. Viggo kissed the man's head comfortingly several times. "Orli..." He kissed again. "I'm going to need to get up in order to do this." Orlando looked slightly embarrassed and let him go. Viggo eased him back down and pulled the covers up over Orlando, tucking them around him tightly on both sides.

Orlando stirred almost restlessly beneath the blankets, left alone now with his fever and his sniffles. Viggo plucked a few tissues from the box and eased them into his hand just in case. Then he bent over, kissed Orlando, and petted him again a few times. "Vig," Orlando said with a deep, breathy voice. "You're going to need to go into the kitchen in order to do it, too."

     Chuckling, Viggo nodded at the truth of this. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He headed down the hall towards the kitchen, already envisioning slipping beneath the covers and holding Orlando in his arms while the younger man sipped his tea.