Title: Love in a Broken Elevator
Author: [info]saone77
Pairing: Orlando/Viggo
Rating: NC17
Request: [info]vero_27 requested: Humour+PWP, elevator + electric failure
Summary: What happens when fate--or a couple of inept electricians--strand two very different people in an elevator?
Warnings: AU
Beta: [info]euphiechan & [info]ladyromeo007
Disclaimer: Complete fiction
Author’s Note: Written for [info]anglicandoorway. Special thanks to my ‘emergency’ betas. I took most of their advice. ;D

It would, Viggo thought dispassionately, make a good plot for a porno, a middle-aged, yet still fit and sexy businessman stuck in an elevator with a hot young stud of a bike messenger. Of course, though Viggo was no coinsurer of erotica, he was fairly certain that the hot young stud hyperventilating into the sexy businessman's lunch bag wouldn't have made it into the script.

Viggo gently rubbed the younger man's back, listening over the crinkling of the paper as the kid's breathing slowed. "Feel better?" He asked softly.

"I am such a dork." Was the muffled reply.

Viggo was pleased to note that the kid's face, which had been deathly pale a moment ago, was now getting a bit of color back to it. In fact, it was turning quite red. "You're not a dork."

"I am. I really am. My sister gave me a shirt that says dork, and I should have worn that today because it would be been really appropriate, and I can't believe I'm having a breakdown in front of a strange guy in a lift, not that you're strange, you're probably very normal, it's just I don't know you, and I'm sorry I made you put your lunch on the floor and took your bag."

Viggo couldn't help but feel compassion for the babbling, pitiful figure with a death hold on his crumpled paper-bag, and an alluring English accent. "Don't worry about it. Any of it." He held out his hand. "Name's Viggo."

There was a ghost of a smile. "Orlando."

They shook hands.

Relatively certain that the kid–-Orlando--wasn't going to keel over, Viggo slid down one of the walls until his rump was on the floor. He stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles, then leaned his head back. If he was lucky he might be able to catch a quick nap.

"Um..." Orlando chuckled nervously. "You look like a man who's settling in for a long wait."

Viggo patted the carpet next to him. "Come on down."


"They've been working on the building's electrical system." Viggo said. "This has happened a few other times. It may take a while, but they're gonna get it fixed."

"When you say 'a while', how-"

"Usually an hour or so."

"Oh, God." Orlando brought the bag back up to his mouth.

"Sit." Viggo said firmly. "Before you fall over."

Orlando ungracefully plopped himself down on the floor.

Viggo's hands almost instinctively wanted to reach out to pet and comfort the distressed young man. He scowled down at his fingers and thought that if the urges got too bad he could just sit on them.

Orlando must have misinterpreted his fellow captive's dark look as disapproval about his behavior, as he began to jabber again. "I'm sorry. Really, I am. I'm just a bit claustrophobic. Well, more than a bit... When I first started the job, I thought I could just use stairs, but when the offices you're delivering to are thirty, forty stories up..." He trailed off, looking quite troubled.

"Hey." Viggo's traitorous hand reached out and gently massaged Orlando's shoulder. "No need to apologize. Everybody's got phobias."

"Maybe." Orlando frowned.

"Definitely. I have a friend--big guy, real tough. A man's man, you know? Whenever he has to fly anywhere he cries like a little girl."

Orlando let out a bark of laughter.

"Really," Viggo said. "We were coming back from L.A. one time, and hit some turbulence over the Midwest. He held my hand for the rest of the flight."

Orlando was grinning now. "I am fairly certain you just made that up."

"From Montana to LaGuardia. Swear to God."

Orlando shook his head, but smiled. "Thanks."

Viggo shrugged. He realized his hand was still rubbing Orlando shoulder. Reluctantly, he pulled away and let both his hands settle in his lap.

The mirth left Orlando's face. He started at the bag in his hands, and was about to lift the bag to his mouth again when Viggo cleared his throat.

The older man had noticed the impending signs of another attack, and hoped that talking might prove an adequate distraction. "You didn't finish your story."

Orlando cocked his head quizzically.

"You found out that messengers in New York couldn't get by with just using the stairs." Viggo prompted.

"Oh. Yeah. Right."

"If you don't want to talk about it, it's okay." Viggo said. "But I'm kinda curious as to how you managed to ride elevators at all."

"I can be a right stubborn bastard when I want to be." Orlando said with a small smile. "Most lift—-elevator--rides are only a few minutes long. I found out I just had to distract myself until it was over."

"I don't mean to sound flip, but couldn't you do that now?"

Orlando snorted. "For up to an hour? Even I can't think about it nonstop for that long." Seeing Viggo's confused frown, he decided to elaborate. "Sex. I think about sex."

"Sex?" Viggo croaked out through a suddenly dry mouth.

"Well, not sex sex, since that tends to get me a little too happy." Orlando ruefully looked down at his spandex covered crotch. "These shorts don't hide a lot of sins, you know?"

"I... can imagine."

"Yeah, so normally I just think about kissing, or touching, or..." Orlando suddenly turned bright red, and looked so alarmed Viggo felt his own blood pressure skyrocket.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Viggo asked worriedly.

"What's wrong? What’s wrong?! What's wrong is, I was just prattling off about sex to a perfect stranger, and I'm not even in a club. I didn't even mean to do it. It’s like the connection between my brain and my mouth just, whoosh, disappeared. Hell, I'm surprised I didn't let out that I keep my old teddy bear on my headboard, I know all the words to every N*sync song, and I steal cable from the old woman upstairs. I..." Orlando buried his head in his hands. "Oh shit."

Viggo manfully reined in his amusement, and schooled his features into a study of cool detachment. "You're right." He said mildly.

One brown eye peeked out at him from between lightly tanned fingers.

"You should have worn your 'Dork' tee shirt." Viggo couldn't help but chuckle as Orlando groaned miserably.

"Here, take your bag back." Orlando said. "I loose enough oxygen I might pass out and have some peace."

Viggo, still snickering, waved off the offer. "Let's just chalk it up to a momentary lapse of sanity caused by extreme stress."


"Why not?"

"A momentary lapse of sanity caused by extreme stress..." Orlando pursed his lips. "That sounds much better than 'he's a complete nutter'."

"I have a gift." Viggo thought for a moment. "I also routinely lie to my mother about my social life, listen to my old Carpenters records at least once a month, and I don't steal cable, but I do still have a library book from my old high school that's about thirty years overdue."

Orlando blinked.

"Fair's fair. Now, we both know rather..." Viggo smiled, "incriminating details about the other."

"Yeah." Orlando's eyes sparkled a bit. "I guess we do. Wait a minute, you lie to your mother?!"

"Just about certain things." Viggo said defensively. "Don't you?"

"Oh, God no. She'd flay me alive." Orlando shuddered. "So, which things?"


"Come on, come on." Orlando wheedled.

Viggo sighed. "If I'm not seeing anyone at the moment, she has a tendency to fix me up with people."

"Oh." Orlando seemed to deflate a bit. "Well. That's not too bad."

Viggo raised an eyebrow. "Really? Okay. Last time I visited, she went on and on about her dentist. She kept saying how I just had to see him. I thought she wanted me to get my teeth cleaned. So, I made an appointment, and in between chastising me for not flossing, and describing in great detail the horrors of gingivitis, he asked me out."

"Oh, no." Orlando tittered. "What did you do?"

"What could I do? The guy had one of those sharp hook things pressed against my gums; I said yes."

Orlando snorted.

"It was self preservation."

"Right. So what happened?"

"Dinner was good. He was smart, witty, reasonably attractive. I was beginning to think I might have to actually thank my mother for setting me up, which, of course, would go against all laws of God and man. And then, after dessert, he takes out a package of dental floss..."

"He didn't?!"

"He did. Right there, at the table."


"Needless to say, my mom switched dentists. She abhors bad table manners." Viggo didn't even try to contain the grin that spread across his face at the sound of Orlando's unbridled laughter.

Orlando wiped at the moisture leaking from his eyes. "That's brilliant. So, did your mum stop trying to fix you up?"

"You would think so, but no. Hence the lying."

"Man. But, she's okay with, you know?"

Viggo, enjoying the slightly flustered look on Orlando’s face, pretended to misunderstand, and shook his head.

"The dentist was a he. She's okay with that?"


"Wanker. You know exactly what I'm trying to say."

"Yeah, I do. And, yeah, she is. I think. It took her a while."

Orlando nodded sagely.

"Yours too?" Viggo asked.


"Looks like we make quite a pair."

"Looks like."

Both men stared at each other. The air was filled with something... Electricity. Promise. Need.

Orlando licked his lips and Viggo unabashedly followed the movement of his tongue.

Viggo leaned in. "This is going to sound a bit foreword, but-"

Whatever he was going to say next was forever lost as the elevator suddenly dropped.

They just fell a few feet, but Orlando screamed like a banshee and propelled himself into one of the car's corners.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, WHAT WAS THAT?!" Orlando's fingers tried futily to dig into the metal walls.

Viggo crawled over to him. "It was nothing." He said softly.

"THAT WAS NOT NOTHING! THAT WAS FUCKING SOMETHING!" Orlando's eyes were wild, white showing all around the iris. "THAT WAS-" He broke off as he registered a warm, solid presence pressing against his crotch.

"Sex." Viggo said.


"Think about sex." Viggo leaned in and caught Orlando's lax lips in a firm kiss. His hand massaged an increasingly interested cock, as his tongue swept in, explored, and easily dominated the younger man's mouth. He released Orlando's lips to concentrate on that glorious expanse of neck. "Remember? Touching."

Orlando arched back, exposing more of his throat. "Touching." He repeated dazedly.

"Kissing." Viggo intoned as his lips played across Orlando’s skin.

"Kissing. Oh." Orlando's shorts did indeed hide no sins.

Viggo continued rubbing firmly against the tenting fabric. His voice was a deep, gravely rumble. "If you want, I could really take your mind off things?"

"What things?" Orlando asked, positively bewildered. He blinked. "Oh, right. The plunging to our deaths thing."

Viggo squeezed.

"Oh, God, yes!"

Viggo wore a shark's smile as his unoccupied hand frantically searched his wallet. In between credit card receipts, his anxious fingers found a small square of foil. He triumphantly pulled out the condom, and then stared at it dumbly.

Orlando felt the hand still between his legs. He whined in frustration. "What's wrong."


"Viggo, are you having second thoughts? You bastard!"

"No! Well, kind of. I've got a condom, but..." He looked helplessly at Orlando. "Do you have, uh, anything?"

"Anything?" It took a moment for the problem to sink into Orlando's lust rattled brain. When it finally got through, he scowled. "Do I look like the type of bloke who keeps lube in his back pocket?!"


"Oh, shut up."

The car lurched again, this time rising several feet. Orlando let out a heartbreaking whimper.

Viggo couldn’t stand to see such a distressing look on that perfect face. He tugged at Orlando’s shorts. “Lift your hips.”


He tugged again. “Lift your hips.”

Wide-eyed, Orlando did as he was told. Viggo pulled his shorts and briefs down.

“What are you doing?“

Viggo licked his lips. “What do you think?”

Viggo opened the condom wrapper, and Orlando tensed as the older man gently sheathed him.

Viggo took a moment to stare at the lovely latex covered cock in front of him. “Jesus. I haven’t done this since college.”

Orlando frowned. “Blown someone?”

“No, had sex in an elevator.” Viggo lowered his head and took Orlando into his mouth.

At that moment the elevator cables could have snapped, the building could have imploded, the entire planet could have disintegrated into cosmic space dust, and Viggo could tell that Orlando would not have cared a whit.

Viggo hummed happily as he sucked the young man through the vanilla flavored barrier. This was a lovely way to pass the time. But, unfortunately, they didn’t have much time left. In his peripheral vision, Viggo noted the lights in the elevator brighten. He cursed the electricians’ timing and began to suck in earnest. One finger worked behind Orlando’s balls, teasing his ass. The younger man came almost immediately with a howl that echoed around the small compartment.

There was no time for afterglow. Viggo rose, quickly wiped his mouth, and fixed his tie. “Get up.”

“Are you kidding?” Orlando looked around. “Ooh, we’re moving. Or is that just me?”

Viggo pulled the younger man to his feet. “We’re about to have company in a minute, you might want to make yourself presentable.”

Orlando blanched, and quickly rid himself of the condom. “What about this?“

Viggo grimaced, then smiled. The poor, abused lunch-bag was needed again. He shoved the condom in the bag, along with the ham sandwich and apple that had sat innocently by the door throughout the whole ordeal. Lunch could be ordered in today.

Orlando pulled up his shorts, gingerly adjusted himself, and grabbed the envelope he was supposed to deliver to the twenty eighth floor. He held it in front of himself, hiding any lingering evidence of their activities.

Just before the elevator stopped again, at the appropriate place this time, Viggo put his arm around Orlando’s waist.

The doors opened with a cheery Ding to reveal a rather frazzled young woman.

"Mr. Mortensen?!” She exclaimed “Oh, thank goodness! When you didn’t show up on time we all just knew you were stuck in that thing again. Fred from downstairs let me know it was working again, so, I, uh... Are you,” her eyes flickered from Orlando to her boss. “All right?"

Viggo tightened his hold on Orlando’s waist. "I’m just fine, Jane. But I’m afraid my new friend here is a little worse for wear. If you could get some water bottles from the fridge, I'm going to help Orlando to the suite."

The assistant scurried off, and Orlando turned a questioning look towards the older man.

"Do you really want to try to get back on your bike right away, after all you just went through?” Viggo asked rationally. “Besides, I've got a couch in my office. A big couch."

"Is that right?" Orlando smirked. "You know, I am feeling a bit peaked."

"Well, there you go. I'll even get someone to finish your delivery for you. If that's not against your company's rules?"

"Screw 'em. I was gonna quit anyway." Orlando leaned heavily against Viggo. "So, are you the type of bloke who keeps a bottle of lube stashed in your desk drawer?"