AngiePen (angiepen) wrote,
AngiePen
angiepen

Fic: Pick-Up Lines

Title: Pick-Up Lines
Author: AngiePen
Fandom: Celebrity RPS
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: PG
Summary: Orlando's wondering how a Viggo pick-up line would compare with others he's gotten, to say nothing of whether Viggo will ever get around to using one on him.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone you recognize. I know nothing about their social lives or sexual activities, more's the pity. This is fiction, period. It is done as a labor of love and I make no money from it.
Notes: Written during the Las Vegas Slashy Retreat in August '07. Thanks to lauralynn22 for birthing this bunny by mentioning a funny line to a song I'd never heard before. :)



Orlando had a theory about men. He'd been picked up enough times that he'd experienced plenty of pick-up lines and had figured out that you could tell pretty much everything you needed to know about a potential shagging buddy, and get a pretty decent idea about someone you might be thinking of hooking up with for a while, based on the line they used to try to pick you up.

One bloke in London who'd thought he was all that had drawled, "If I said you were gorgeous would you hold it against me?" with a huge grin. Orlando had rolled his eyes and turned away. A guy had to be absolutely oozing sex for him to say yes to a pick-up line off a T-shirt, and misquoting a line off a T-shirt meant Orlando wouldn't shag the man if he'd been lost on a desert island for a decade.

A cute guy at Guildhall, one year ahead of Orlando, had given him a shy smile and said, "I'd be very happy if you'd let me make you very happy." It was a little cheesy but sweet; he and Orlando had had a great night together, and a few others until the guy had graduated.

The shortest one had been a brief, "Wanna?" accompanied by a sexy smile, from a hot guy in a gay bar in New York City. That encounter had been short and energetic and he'd never known the man's name but they'd had a brilliant time together.

Tramping through the New Zealand woods with Viggo that afternoon, he was wondering what sort of a line Viggo would use, if he ever did. It was worth daydreaming about if nothing else and there was something about Viggo, a magnetically sexy charisma that he wore like an old T-shirt which made Orlando willing to loosen his standards at least a little. Or even a lot.

Of course that was mainly because he couldn't ever imagine Viggo misquoting a T-shirt when trying to pick someone up. Or even quoting one accurately.

Viggo seemed like more the type to murmur a line of poetry, possibly in some language Orlando had never studied but in a tone of voice which Orlando was sure would curl his toes all by itself.

Just then, Viggo stuffed a handful of grass down the back of Orlando's shirt and dashed off laughing madly. While running after him and shouting dire threats of revenge, Orlando had to admit to himself that Viggo was a multi-faceted person and that there were a number of approaches he might take.

There was the amazingly well-read and literate approach of course, but there was also the wacky fun approach -- some sort of a joke, maybe even a pun although something that'd never been on a T-shirt.

Or he might decide to just take the direct approach and state outright what he wanted, leaving it up to Orlando to say whether he wanted that too. And knowing Viggo, an acceptance would lead to wild sex and a refusal would lead to a nod and a change of subject, and neither one would do anything weird to their working relationship.

Orlando was the faster runner and when Viggo ran out of trees to dodge around and tried to make it a sprint across a small meadow, Orlando caught him and brought him down with a tackle. They tumbled to the grassy ground and rolled to a stop under another tree on the far side, poking and tickling and cackling madly. The two of them ended up lying flat on their backs, gasping for breath and giggling and staring up at the sky through the tangled branches overhead.

Suddenly Viggo rolled until he was looming over Orlando and started tugging at the hem of his T-shirt. Orlando's hands smacked and pushed, expecting another tickle attack. "Viggo! Cut it out!" Viggo didn't stop but he wasn't tickling either. "Wait, what are you doing?" Orlando craned his neck and tried to sit up so he could see what was going on but Viggo pushed him back down flat.

Viggo grinned at him and slid both hands up under Orlando's shirt, rubbing back and forth to cover as much skin as he could reach. There was a crazy-sexy light in his eyes and he said, "I want to check you for ticks."

Orlando blinked up at him, then relaxed back into the grass, giggling uncontrollably while shifting to allow Viggo to tug his jeans open and slide his hands in and down.

Funny, in a duct-taped-on-sideways sort of way. Completely non-sequitur but still absolutely on target. Obscure and unique and absolutely endearing. That was Viggo, and that was a line Orlando would always remember.



Postscript: the song Lauralynn mentioned was "I Want to Check You For Ticks" by Brad Paisley. I don't know that I ever want to actually hear it, but it made me giggle and I had to write this. :)

Tags: fanfic, rps, story
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