Cranberry Sauce
A belated little Thanksgiving ficlet!
Title: Cranberry Sauce
Rating : R-ish (for implication!)
Pairing : OB/VM
Warning : Extreme fluffiness!
Beta : The ever-inspiring alliwantisanelf - thanks sweetheart!
A/N : Inspired by alliwantisanelf’s hysterical Picture Captions 101 Thanksgiving post - check it out Here
Posted : December 1, 2005
After adding the last few careful brushstrokes to the canvas, Viggo rolled his shoulders with a sigh. Carefully, he peered around the door of the studio, where he had sought sanctuary from the storm over the sweet potato casserole. He admitted to himself that maybe he shouldn’t have used it as festive Thanksgiving lube, but it seemed such a good idea at the time he spotted the carefully hidden Tupperware dish containing the last few spoonfuls. And it seemed like fitting revenge on Orlando for eating most of the casserole in the first place.
Deciding that it was safe to proceed, he stepped through the doorway prepared to duck any missiles that might come flying his way, and followed the clanking pots and pans to the kitchen. The sound of off-key humming floated through the doorway and gave him confidence that the storm had passed. A grateful smile crossed his face - arguing was NOT the way he had intended to spend the Thanksgiving weekend, and thoughts of make-up sex flitted through his mind.
Peeking round the doorway, he caught his breath at the sight before him. Orlando, dressed in an indecently tight pair of red shorts and a pink frilly apron, was humming and swaying his hips as he set the table for lunch.
“Hey, angel. Have you forgiven me yet?” Viggo asked tentatively.
Orlando spun and looked at him coyly under lowered lashes.
“Weeeeeeell,” he drawled, pouting. “I wasn’t going to, especially as I had such a hard time getting rid of those little marshmallows that were stuck to my arse, but then I decided that it is Thanksgiving and I have too much to be thankful for in you, so I’ve made us lunch to say I’m sorry.” He flung his arms around Viggo’s neck and gave him a kiss that stole his breath away.
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry I upset you. It seemed like a fun idea at the time…,” Viggo gasped when his head stopped spinning. “So, what have you made for lunch, my little culinary genius?”
Orlando grinned. “I’m sick of turkey, so I’ve made us hot dogs, and I managed not to split the skins and make them all manky,” he said proudly.
“Wow, baby, that’s a first,” Viggo congratulated him, sitting down at the table. “Bring ‘em on.”
He had just finished piling ketchup, mustard, and sauerkraut on his first hot dog when he looked up to see what Orlando was doing and gasped in horror.
“Babe, what the hell have you got on that hot dog?” he blurted out.
“Hmmm? Oh, this? It’s just cranberry sauce. I really like the combination of meat and fruit, don’t you?” Orlando answered, taking a huge bite.
“Erm, it’s not a combination I’ve ever been tempted to try…,” Viggo replied.
“Mmmmm, yummy,” Orlando enthused, tongue slipping out to catch a drip of cranberry sauce at the corner of his mouth.
Viggo watched the movement of Orlando’s tongue, mesmerized. All thoughts of the slightly nauseating combination of hot dog and cranberry sauce fled his mind and all he could think of was capturing the glistening pink muscle between his own lips. It had been a long cold night on the couch, and the sight of Orlando’s soft, moist lips wrapped around his hot dog was raising Viggo’s temperature rapidly.
“Vig… Vig… Earth to Viggo!” Orlando crooned, waving his hand up and down in front of Viggo’s face.
“Oh, erm…, sorry, babe! What was that?” Viggo mumbled, startled.
“I was asking if you wanted to try some of my hot dog with cranberry sauce,” Orlando grinned.
Without warning, Viggo vaulted over the table, grabbing the dish of cranberry sauce on the way.
“Absolutely, babe,” he chuckled, flipping up Orlando’s frilly apron and yanking down the sinful shorts, to the accompaniment of his giggling lover’s breathless squeals of delight.
The End
Title: Cranberry Sauce
Rating : R-ish (for implication!)
Pairing : OB/VM
Warning : Extreme fluffiness!
Beta : The ever-inspiring alliwantisanelf - thanks sweetheart!
A/N : Inspired by alliwantisanelf’s hysterical Picture Captions 101 Thanksgiving post - check it out Here
Posted : December 1, 2005
After adding the last few careful brushstrokes to the canvas, Viggo rolled his shoulders with a sigh. Carefully, he peered around the door of the studio, where he had sought sanctuary from the storm over the sweet potato casserole. He admitted to himself that maybe he shouldn’t have used it as festive Thanksgiving lube, but it seemed such a good idea at the time he spotted the carefully hidden Tupperware dish containing the last few spoonfuls. And it seemed like fitting revenge on Orlando for eating most of the casserole in the first place.
Deciding that it was safe to proceed, he stepped through the doorway prepared to duck any missiles that might come flying his way, and followed the clanking pots and pans to the kitchen. The sound of off-key humming floated through the doorway and gave him confidence that the storm had passed. A grateful smile crossed his face - arguing was NOT the way he had intended to spend the Thanksgiving weekend, and thoughts of make-up sex flitted through his mind.
Peeking round the doorway, he caught his breath at the sight before him. Orlando, dressed in an indecently tight pair of red shorts and a pink frilly apron, was humming and swaying his hips as he set the table for lunch.
“Hey, angel. Have you forgiven me yet?” Viggo asked tentatively.
Orlando spun and looked at him coyly under lowered lashes.
“Weeeeeeell,” he drawled, pouting. “I wasn’t going to, especially as I had such a hard time getting rid of those little marshmallows that were stuck to my arse, but then I decided that it is Thanksgiving and I have too much to be thankful for in you, so I’ve made us lunch to say I’m sorry.” He flung his arms around Viggo’s neck and gave him a kiss that stole his breath away.
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry I upset you. It seemed like a fun idea at the time…,” Viggo gasped when his head stopped spinning. “So, what have you made for lunch, my little culinary genius?”
Orlando grinned. “I’m sick of turkey, so I’ve made us hot dogs, and I managed not to split the skins and make them all manky,” he said proudly.
“Wow, baby, that’s a first,” Viggo congratulated him, sitting down at the table. “Bring ‘em on.”
He had just finished piling ketchup, mustard, and sauerkraut on his first hot dog when he looked up to see what Orlando was doing and gasped in horror.
“Babe, what the hell have you got on that hot dog?” he blurted out.
“Hmmm? Oh, this? It’s just cranberry sauce. I really like the combination of meat and fruit, don’t you?” Orlando answered, taking a huge bite.
“Erm, it’s not a combination I’ve ever been tempted to try…,” Viggo replied.
“Mmmmm, yummy,” Orlando enthused, tongue slipping out to catch a drip of cranberry sauce at the corner of his mouth.
Viggo watched the movement of Orlando’s tongue, mesmerized. All thoughts of the slightly nauseating combination of hot dog and cranberry sauce fled his mind and all he could think of was capturing the glistening pink muscle between his own lips. It had been a long cold night on the couch, and the sight of Orlando’s soft, moist lips wrapped around his hot dog was raising Viggo’s temperature rapidly.
“Vig… Vig… Earth to Viggo!” Orlando crooned, waving his hand up and down in front of Viggo’s face.
“Oh, erm…, sorry, babe! What was that?” Viggo mumbled, startled.
“I was asking if you wanted to try some of my hot dog with cranberry sauce,” Orlando grinned.
Without warning, Viggo vaulted over the table, grabbing the dish of cranberry sauce on the way.
“Absolutely, babe,” he chuckled, flipping up Orlando’s frilly apron and yanking down the sinful shorts, to the accompaniment of his giggling lover’s breathless squeals of delight.
The End