Viggo was in the kitchen making breakfast when he heard Orlando calling out his name. He walked to the foot of the stairs, so that he could make his response without shouting - the younger man was ensconced in the bathroom upstairs, busy with his morning routine.
"Viggo! Come quickly!" The voice came again, this time with a tinge of desperation. Orlando sounded really upset.
He bounded up the stairs, two at a time, and practically ran to the bathroom.
Orlando was standing in front of the vanity in the bathroom, his back to the door. Viggo could see Orlando's reflection in the mirror as he entered the room, and the expression on his face was one of profound horror.
He rushed to the other man's side, taking Orlando's hand in his, trying to turn Orlando's face to his with his other hand as he spoke. It was oddly difficult to tear the other man's gaze away from the mirror. "Orli, what is it? What's wrong?"
Orlando eventually turned to look at Viggo, brown eyes round and frightened, lips pouting, brows pinched together to form that delectable crease that Viggo loved so much. He brushed his hand over Orlando's forehead, trying to sooth the tension away. His efforts were met with little success: Orlando was very upset. Whatever it was that had his boyfriend so distressed must be very serious.
Grasping Viggo's arm for support, Orlando spoke. "I found a grey hair."
Viggo's eyebrows shot up, and he fought the urge not to laugh. That's all this fuss was for? A grey hair? To Viggo, a grey hair was not something that was worth worrying about - he'd had grey hair of his own for quite some time. His boyfriend, however, seemed to be very upset by the discovery of his first grey hair. And if it had upset Orlando to such a degree, well, then Viggo figured that he had better treat this issue with some delicacy.
"Oh, Orli. Angel. It's not the end of the world. It is just a grey hair. Let me see it."
Orlando turned to peer into the mirror, his eyes and hands going to his hairline near his right temple. He parted the thick, glossy curls, and found one single strand of the purest white. He turned back to Viggo, presenting the hair for examination.
"See! There it is! My first grey hair!"
Viggo studied the white strand, and had to admit that it did look rather striking in the shock of wild dark curls. And while he did not find it at all unattractive, he found himself wanting to spare his boyfriend of any worry that the little inoffensive hair would cause him.
So he did the only thing he could think of.
"Owwwwww! Viggo, what the fuck! What did you do that for?"
Brandishing the small strand of white between his thumb and forefinger, Viggo just grinned as he regarded Orlando. In the place of the look of distress, there was now a scowl on Orlando's face. He rubbed his hairline near his temple as he looked back into the mirror to study his reflection.
"I thought you didn't want it."
"Well, I didn't mean for you to pull it out. That fucking hurt." At this, Viggo did roll his eyes. As much as he loved Orlando, he really could be a whinger. At least he was a cute whinger.
"Let me kiss it better then."
Orlando turned back to face Viggo, a pout cast over his features. "Okay then."
Viggo slid his arm around the younger man, and pulled the lithe body closer towards him. Leaning forward, he carefully kissed the soft skin and silky hair of Orlando's temple, letting his lips brush over the pulse beating just below the surface.
He pulled back and smiled, looking into Orlando's eyes. "Better?"
Orlando grinned back at him. The crisis seemed to have passed. "Yeah. Much better. And I'm glad its gone. I knew I could count on you to save me."
To that Viggo, snorted. "Yeah, that's me - Viggo, the Defender of Orlando's Hair Follicles." He held up the white strand for examination. "You want to keep this?"
Orlando just shuddered. "No. I'd rather not see it, or any of its friends, again."
"Mind if I keep it, then?"
A look of incomprehension came over Orlando's features. "Why would you want to do that?"
"I'm going to add it to the memory box." His arms tightened around Orlando again. "That way - when we're both old and grey - and I hate to tell you this, but this hair's friends are going to come calling sooner or later - when we're old and grey, we can go through the box and remember times like this - you being silly, young and adorably worried, and me defending you from your first grey hair."
Orlando grinned at this. Sometimes Viggo was just too wonderful in his sentimentalism. "Awwww... Viggo, that's sweet."
Viggo kissed Orlando's lips gently, before pulling away slightly.
"Now, can I get back to breakfast? Do you have any more hairs that need pulling, cuticles that need trimming, zits that need popping, or anything else of that sort? Perhaps your eyebrows need tweezing - they are starting to look a little... "
His sentence was cut off with a yelp as Orlando smacked his backside. "No, Viggo. I think that I can handle everything else myself."
Viggo kissed Orlando once more before pulling away and exiting the bathroom, leaving the younger man to his morning routine. As he left, he caught Orlando's eye in the mirror and smirked.
"Whinger." He laughed and ran as Orlando quickly reached for a towel, and swatted it at his backside. He ran downstairs, away from Orlando and his towel, chuckling madly as he went.
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Story notes: In all honestly, I can't see Orlando reacting like this. But, this bunny bit me a while ago, and it wanted to be written. Sometimes, that's just the way it is. :D
Written for carefullykissed's "give us a fic, you get an icon" plea for fluff; written in a short period of time and un-beta'd, so please forgive any errors.
Chapter notes: LJ: http://abluegirl.livejournal.com/