| Title: Highest Bidder Author: Jo Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Hugo Weaving Rating: NC17 Summary: It's amazing what some people will do for a good cause.... Disclaimer: I made the entire thing up, yo. Completely, entirely, absolutely, 100% fiction. Notes: Originally written in 2002 for a bunny that Valentine threw out dealing with charity auctions. Rewritten in 2004 for Gabby Hope's Rewrite Project. Original fic is titled "Going Once, Going Twice...Sold!" and can be found at Faded Ink.
Orlando blinked, mouth hanging open, as the gavel hit the podium with a resounding bang. Was Viggo wearing black? Or Sean? He couldn't remember. And had the auctioneer really said...? She had. Whoa. Still unable to believe he'd heard right, Orlando made his way behind the curtain. Stopped. Stared at Elijah, who stared back, looking much like a baby owl. "Fuckin' A, Orli! $5,000!" "I heard," Orlando mumbled, shaking his head. Christ. Then a commotion at the side door caught his attention. He looked over just as Viggo and Sean forced their way past the rent-a-cop. With a broad grin, Orlando launched himself off the top step, not particularly caring which one caught him. Viggo staggered back under the sudden weight, hands coming up to cup Orlando's ass. "Well, hello to you, too." "Fuck of a lot of money, Vig," Orlando said, still grinning as he planted a sloppy kiss on Viggo before reaching over to hook a hand around Sean's neck, tugging him in for his own kiss. "I, um...." "He didn't win," Sean said. He looked a little stunned. Come to think of it, so did Viggo. Orlando slid his feet to the floor, looked at them both. "He didn't?" "Nope." Viggo shook his head, offered a sheepish grin. "Sean?" Orlando turned a hopeful look on Sean. And was pretty sure he was about to be disappointed when Sean smiled and shrugged. "I lost when it hit half that." Cheap bastard. "Well, if you didn't win, and Viggo didn't win," Elijah said from nearby, "who did?" "Me." All four turned and stared. Orlando's eyebrows climbed towards his hairline so fast he half wondered if they'd fly off. Elijah's murmured, "Oh, fuck," was barely heard as Hugo stood there, framed by the curtains, a faint smirk on his face. "You?" Sean whispered something that caused Viggo to choke, earning them both a dark look from Orlando. Wankers were laughing at him. "Yes, Orlando," Hugo said, hands in his trouser pockets. Black trousers, Orlando noted absently. To go with the black shirt. Startled eyes snapped back up to meet Hugo's. "You paid $5,000 for me?" Orlando wondered when he was going to wake up. This was a dream. Had to be. Hugo had never -- not once -- even hinted at being interested. And God knew he'd had plenty of chances in the year and a half they spent in New Zealand. "It was for a good cause," Hugo replied with a small shrug. A good cause. Riiiiiiiiight. Orlando eyed Hugo. Cleared his throat. "Well. This is...a surprise." "Obviously," Hugo murmured, still smiling that tiny, enigmatic smile that made Orlando want to hit things. "You sound a little disappointed." "Nono," Orlando said. He ignored the snickers from behind him. "Just...can't say I expected you to be involved in this sort of thing." "It was for charity." Then Hugo laughed. "Besides, it was worth it to see their faces when they lost." "Huh," Viggo snorted. Sean laughed, turned it into a cough when Orlando glared at him. "Sorry. Something in my throat." "Mmm." Orlando just glared at them both for a long moment before turning back to Hugo. He opened his mouth to say something and was beat to it by Viggo. "For charity, hmm?" "Of course, Viggo," Hugo said, calm look firmly in place. "Money to a good cause for pleasant companionship." "He won't say that after an evening spent with the little brat," Sean whispered. Stage whispered. Bastard. Orlando just glared at him, receiving an all too innocent smile in return. "Bastard," he muttered before giving a sniff and stalking over to Hugo, putting a deliberate twitch in his hips as he went. "Just for that, I'm glad Hugo bought me." "Oh?" Sean raised an eyebrow, grinned at Viggo. "And why's that, love?" "At least he's a real gentleman." "Oh, that hurts, Orli." Viggo was very obviously trying not to laugh. Sean didn't even bother. "Bastards," Orlando muttered again. Sometimes he wondered why he put up with them. "They're just jealous," Hugo said. He was grinning when Orlando glanced over. "Course we are," Sean managed to say through his laughter. "Middle of the bed'll be cold without you tonight." "You'll miss me," Orlando said, smirked. "Here," Hugo said, pressing something into Orlando's hand. Orlando looked down, blinked in confusion at the keycard in his hand. "What's this?" "Looks like a key," Viggo said. "Oh, shut up," Orlando muttered, giving Viggo a glare. "It's for a room in the hotel," Hugo said as if Viggo'd said nothing. "You'll be able to get ready there." "Ready? Where are we going?" "Out," Hugo said, and winked. Then he walked away, leaving Orlando to stare after him. Out. Well, that explained a hell of a lot. How was he supposed to know what to wear without more detail? Fuck. "Relax, Orli," Viggo said, laughter lurking in his voice. "You can always put on that little leather g-string you bought the other day." "That'll make him forget about taking you out," Sean said, nuzzling Orlando's neck. Wouldn't work. Fucker wasn't going to distract him. Nope, not this time. Well, okay, maybe. If Sean continued that.... Wait a sec! "Stop that," Orlando said, smacking away the hands that wiggled under his shirt. He wasn't sure whom the hands belonged to, and he didn't care. "You bought a leather g-string?" Orlando hadn't thought Elijah's eyes could possibly get any bigger. He'd have lost that bet. "He did," Sean said, refusing to stop nuzzling just below Orlando's ear. "Shiny one," Viggo added, slinging an arm around Orlando's shoulders. "Modeled it for us, too." "Bugger off," Orlando muttered, glaring at them again. Hugo took a deep breath, rubbed his hands down the sides of his trousers. Right. He could do this. Absolutely nothing to it. Or so he kept telling himself. He wondered when he'd started to believe it. "Oh, for...." Hugo shook his head, muttered as he pulled his key from his pocket. It was just a simple evening out with a friend, that was all. He certainly wasn't expecting anything from Orlando. Not at all. Hoping for it? Perhaps. Praying for it? Possibly. Expecting it? Definitely not. After all, he hadn't exactly been lying with his earlier comments. It really was for a good cause. And it had been worth it to see the expressions on Viggo and Sean's faces when they'd realized they'd lost. The fact that an evening with Orlando had been the prize was a minor bonus. Really. Sure it was. Just keep telling yourself that. Still muttering, Hugo slid the card into the door, waited the half-second it took for the light to turn green. He stepped inside. Stopped as the door swished shut behind him. Blinked. Rubbed his eyes and blinked again. And had a brief moment of disorientation. He'd rented a small suite for his stay, but the room looked nothing like it had when he'd left earlier. All the furniture had been shoved against the walls and draped with lengths of brilliant, jewel-toned silk. What looked to be a large, Oriental rug covered the center of the floor and was piled high with plush pillows -- vibrant emerald, deep indigo, rich violet, lush crimson, bright gold, warm tangerine -- and a variety of finger foods, prettily arranged on trays, was spread out in the very middle of the entire display All in all, it looked like nothing more than a room in the midst of a seraglio. And Orlando was the harem boy. Or so it seemed when a soft noise from the adjoining room drew Hugo's attention and he looked to see Orlando framed in the doorway. Oh my. All Hugo could do was stare, mouth hanging open, as Orlando slowly sauntered towards him, bare feet picking a path between the cushions. At some point in the last two hours, Orlando had shed his street clothes and was now clad in a pair of black trousers that, to Hugo's eyes, looked suspiciously like silk. They rode low on his hips, billowing out loosely to flow around his legs with each step, and gathering back in at his ankles. In fact, the pants were so low that Hugo could clearly see the sun tattoo peeking out above the waistband. Orlando's torso was bare, and his only other adornments were the carved bracelet around one wrist and the amulets dangling from his neck. It was an impressive sight. "Well?" Orlando asked, dark eyes fixed on Hugo's. "Is it right?" Hugo just nodded, unable to speak, and watched Orlando draw near. Who the hell had told him? And why? Hugo's brain raced, scrambled to remember who he'd shared this particular fantasy with and when. After all, it wasn't like Hugo had shared this vision with very many people. Truth be told, he could probably name them all on one hand. And not even use the entire hand. He was positive that none of them would have told Orlando. Or.... Would they? "Where'd you find all this?" Hugo swallowed, waved one hand around. "Oh, here and there." Orlando grinned, and the spell was broken. He was back to being the cheeky boy he'd always been. Hugo could deal with this person. "I see." Not that he did. Not really. But he was willing to go with it. "Who --" Wait. The memory hit him like a ton of bricks. He'd only told one person. "Sean." Sean.... Fuck. Of course. Hugo's mind flashed back to a night, well over two years previous, in a dim pub in New Zealand. He'd been spectacularly drunk, as had most of the people in the group. Then they'd all started sharing fantasies and "perfect ideals." And while he couldn't remember his exact comment, Hugo knew it had been along the lines of "Orlando would make a very pretty harem boy, don't you think?" He almost groaned. "Bit tense," Orlando laughed softly when Hugo jumped. Tense? Well, what the hell did the child expect when he was circling Hugo like a lion on the prowl. And removing Hugo's jacket. "So, um," Hugo began, stopped and swallowed hard as his jacket slid free and was tossed aside. "So what else did Sean happen to mention?" "Oh, he didn't happen to mention anything else," Orlando said, very matter of factly, as he pressed down on Hugo's shoulders. Hugo took the silent hint and sank to the cushions, watching bemusedly as Orlando knelt in front of him. Shoes and socks quickly followed his jacket. "He didn't?" "Nope." Orlando settled back on his heels. Hands on his thighs, head tilted to the side, he studied Hugo for a moment. "There was no 'happening to mention' anything. He was pretty blatant about it all." Then Orlando flashed another cheeky grin and stood, vanishing into the other room. When he returned, he carried a bottle of wine and two glasses. Interesting. So Sean had told him everything. And Hugo knew everything that he'd said that night, deep in his cups, after most of the party had broken up and drifted away, leaving him and Sean alone. He'd felt pretty comfortable confiding in Sean. After all, this had been well before Sean had wound up being assimilated into the Orlando/Viggo consortium. Or something like that. "And you thought...." "That it was an interesting idea," Orlando said, kneeling again. Steady hands poured the wine, passed a glass to Hugo. Oh, really? Hugo's eyebrow lifted. Had Orlando gotten the wrong idea? Not that Hugo would blame him if he had. After all, Hugo'd made it crystal clear -- to Sean, at least -- that he certainly wouldn't kick Orlando out of bed for any reason. And that hadn't changed, even though Hugo had long since accepted that it would never happen. But he certainly didn't expect the boy to...to...well, to do whatever it was he was thinking. "Orlando, this isn't why --" "I know." Hugo blinked slowly. "Then what --" "You paid $5,000 for an evening with me. For whatever reason. I'm here to see that you get your money's worth." Orlando shrugged, smiled. "If you just want to hang out, talk, catch up...we can do that. If you want to go out, we can do that, too." Dark eyes continued to stare at Hugo, intent, piercing. And Hugo had to resist the urge to squirm. Sometimes he wondered if Orlando knew just how lethal those eyes were. The silence stretched out, and Hugo was on the point of speaking when Orlando leaned in a bit closer. "If you want more," he murmured, "well...why don't we just relax and let whatever happens happen." Then he smiled. And that smile was beyond lethal. "I'm beginning to understand what Sean meant," Hugo muttered as he took a sip of wine, watched Orlando over the rim of the glass. The boy was definitely a brat. And he damn well knew it. Orlando just grinned and shrugged again. "Most people usually do." Yes. Definitely a brat of the first order. "So," Hugo said, took another sip of wine. "Why this?" "Could you really see me doing this with Viggo and Sean?" That caught Hugo off-guard. He blinked several times. Orlando didn't seem to be joking. "Well, um...no." "Exactly." "Do you want to?" Nosy bugger, aren't you? He almost apologized until he saw Orlando was smiling. "Play the perfect submissive?" Orlando leaned back on one hand, swirled his wine in his glass. "Not something I'd want to do all the time, but...." "And this is your idea of the perfect submissive?" Whoa. Who would have thought...? "For me, it is," Orlando replied, voice low, eyes intent as they focused on Hugo once more. "The pretty, perfect, submissive harem boy." "You want...." Now that was truly mind-boggling. Orlando wanted to play the harem boy. Which coincided perfectly with Hugo's fantasy. Hugo had a feeling the night had just gotten a lot more complicated. And the money -- significant amount that it was -- was no longer a factor. "Alright," Hugo said slowly, after delivering a surreptitious pinch to his thigh to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He wasn't. Question was...where to go with this next? Hugo had to admit he was flummoxed. He'd often wondered what Orlando was like in private, behind closed doors, all inhibitions cast aside. But, knowing Orlando's open, and somewhat complex, relationship with Viggo and Sean, Hugo had never let it go any further than idle speculation. He'd never imagined he'd be in this situation. Now he had Orlando exactly where he'd always wanted him (though the only person he'd ever admitted that to was Sean), and Hugo was at a complete loss as to what to do. Thankfully, Orlando seemed to sense this, because he sat up and set his glass aside, folding his hands in his lap. "What do you wish first?" he asked, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes at odds with the subdued tone of his voice. What did he...? Oh. Oh, right. If Orlando was playing the harem boy, that put Hugo in the position of the harem master. Or something. Which put him in charge. Even though he had the oddest suspicion that Orlando was very much the one in charge. Not that it really mattered. "I think," Hugo said, glancing around the room, "food." Nodding as if that was the only correct answer, Orlando turned away briefly. Hugo, leaning back on the cushions, allowed his eyes to roam over Orlando's half-clad frame in appreciation. This was certainly going to be an interesting evening. Which, he thought with a small smile, was an understatement. Then Orlando turned back, small platter of food in his hand, and Hugo realized there were no eating utensils in sight. The evening was about to become a lot more interesting. He was right. As Orlando proceeded to feed him by hand, Hugo let his thoughts wander in an odd sort of specific way. Every single thought, every image that passed through his mind was centered on Orlando. Hugo couldn't have said what he ate, though he had vague recollections of olives, soft cheeses, bits of bread and meat, grapes, and strawberries. And he certainly couldn't say how much time passed as Orlando fed him. Then, Hugo focused on Orlando's face as Orlando held a grape to his mouth. And what he saw there stunned him. Dark eyes focused on Hugo's lips, watching avidly as they opened for the grape. A faint, almost unnoticeable flush covered high cheekbones. Orlando's own mouth was parted slightly and, as Hugo continued to watch, a pink tongue darted out to moisten Orlando's lower lip. Hugo wondered if he'd see a telling silk-covered bulge if he allowed his eyes to drop. Instead, he caught Orlando's wrist in a loose grip and gently nipped the tip of a finger. Orlando's eyes widened, then drifted shut as warm lips closed over the same finger, sucking lightly, and a soft tongue swirled around the digit. Perfect. Hugo stroked the inside of Orlando's wrist lightly, watched his face. Wondered if Orlando had any idea how truly beautiful he was at times. Then he let the first finger slip from his mouth and replaced it with another. And smiled when he heard the soft hitch in Orlando's breathing. Perfect and responsive. How truly delightful. "Come here," Hugo whispered, tugged gently on the captured wrist. Smiled again when Orlando complied without speaking, watching Hugo through heavy lids. "What is it you wish now?" Orlando asked, voice soft, as he stopped between Hugo's spread thighs. An air of meekness, something Hugo was sure was only temporary, rose from Orlando's very position. But Hugo was pleased to note that Orlando made no attempt to free his wrist. "Kiss me," Hugo ordered, voice quiet and firm. Orlando merely smiled, leaned in, and brushed his lips lightly over Hugo's. Then he started to sit back. Hugo slid a hand behind Orlando's neck and held him firmly, fingers toy with the soft, silky curls at the nape of Orlando's neck. Orlando just watched, the perfect picture of innocent curiosity. Or he would have been if Hugo didn't know better. "I said to kiss me," Hugo said, tightened his fingers. "That was not a kiss. Now.... Kiss me." Orlando smiled again, a tiny smile that sent Hugo's blood scrambling to his crotch. Studied Hugo. Then leaned in once more. And this time, there was no teasing, no half-kisses. Warm lips covered Hugo's in a soft, exploring caress, then a tongue was tracing the seam of his mouth, demanding entrance. Which Hugo gladly gave. As Orlando's tongue invaded his mouth, Hugo realized exactly what they'd meant when Sean and Viggo referred to Orlando as a force of nature. The Orlando who kissed him was far different from the Orlando who greeted him when he entered the suite. This Orlando was aggressive, forceful, demanding, and knew exactly what he was doing. And very aware of his effect on others. Hugo was barely aware of warm, smooth skin under his palms as his mouth was ravished. Fingers tangled in his hair, held his head still as Orlando deepened the kiss. A firm chest pressed against Hugo's, and he had a vague moment of wonder, trying to figure out when his shirt had been unbuttoned. Not that it really mattered. All that mattered was that Orlando was kissing him, rubbing against him. Then Orlando shifted, and Hugo was left little doubt as to how the kiss was affecting him. Pretty much the exact same way the kiss was affecting Hugo himself. They parted with a soft gasp. Hugo wasn't sure which of them had made the sound. All he knew was that they were both breathing heavily, and Orlando's eyes were wide. He stared at Hugo, made no move to pull away. "Wow." Orlando's whisper was barely audible. "Yeah," Hugo finally murmured, still a bit dazed, hands drifting down to settle on Orlando's slender hips. His thumbs drew lazy circles on the bare skin just above Orlando's waistband. The boy had skin like raw silk. Only it was warm. He wondered if Orlando's skin felt that way all over. Wondered if, perhaps, he just might have a chance to find out. Which caused more than a little hesitation with his next words. "Orlando, what about --" "They know what to expect," Orlando broke in smoothly. Hugo was just as glad he'd not had to finish that question. "And I know what to expect from them." "You do?" Hugo was still having a bit of a time wrapping his brain around the entire concept. "They won't be jealous." They wouldn't? Hugo couldn't quite believe that. "After all, Sean told me about the harem boy idea. Don't you think he had a reason for that?" Orlando paused. "And Viggo was there at the time." "He was?" Hugo blinked. "And," Orlando continued, nodding, "they won't be mad. At me or you." "Are you sure?" Hugo was still a trifle uncertain. After all, it was one thing to do this sort of stuff with someone completely unattached. But Orlando had not one, but two lovers. Boyfriends. Something. It made Hugo's head hurt just thinking about it. "Positive," Orlando murmured, grinning slowly. "In fact...they're expecting a detailed report in the morning." Hugo stared, then laughed. A detailed report. Somehow, he wasn't at all surprised. Then Orlando's mouth claimed his again, swallowing the laughter. Well, alright then. If that was how Orlando wanted to play it.... Sitting up, Hugo tumbled Orlando to his back, decided it was a very good thing there were a lot of cushions on the floor. Much as Viggo and Sean might be okay with all this, Hugo didn't want to try explaining rug burn to either of them. That could get a bit sticky. He and Orlando were probably going to get sticky enough as it was. Fingers fumbling with his trousers snapped Hugo's attention back to where it was supposed to be: on Orlando. Which was just fine with him. In very short order, trousers (both linen and silk) were kicked aside, forgotten, and skin was pressed tight to skin. Absolutely sublime. Hugo couldn't remember the last time he'd been this eager -- or this hard -- for anyone. And then there was the fact that Orlando, pressed against Hugo's thigh, was just as hard. And so far, all that had happened had been some pretty hot kisses and exploring caresses. Then warm, slick fingers closed around his cock, and Hugo gasped against the curve of Orlando's shoulder. Slick? How the hell...? "Baby oil," Orlando said in a shaky voice, almost as if he'd read Hugo's mind. At this point, Hugo wasn't counting out anything. Baby oil. Right. Lovely stuff. Hugo was damn glad it had been invented as Orlando's hand glided over him, settling into a smooth rhythm. Christ. If Orlando kept that up, Hugo wasn't going to last long. It had been a while. Not that he was ever going to tell Orlando that. None of his business. But Jesus...did Orlando have to flick his wrist like that? Hugo wasn't exactly sure what all happened next. Just that there was a lot of kissing and sucking and stroking and touching and rubbing going on. Among other things. Lots of other things. He wondered just where Orlando had learned that little trick with his tongue. Before Hugo was quite aware of how it had happened, Orlando was on his hands and knees, back arched in perfect supplication. Hugo looked down, marveled at his hands around slim hips, his cock sinking slowly into Orlando's tight ass. He wasn't sure how they'd gotten into this exact position, but he certainly wasn't going to argue. Not with the way Orlando moaned sharply and rocked back against him, urging him on. Slow thrusts at first, then Orlando's softly growled, "Fuck me, damn you," shoved all of Hugo's restraint right out the proverbial window. Snug heat gripped him with each deep thrust, pulled him in even deeper. And Orlando pushed back, meeting every glide of Hugo's cock willingly, eagerly. "That's it," Orlando gasped, head back, fingers digging into the cushions beneath him. A light sheen of sweat covered his olive skin, and Hugo couldn't resist the urge to lean forward, slide his tongue up Orlando's back. The action drew another gasp and a tiny shiver from Orlando. Well now. Hugo repeated the move, this time sliding his tongue up Orlando's neck to his ear. And smiled when he received another shiver. "Like that, hmm?" he murmured, lips brushing Orlando's ear, chest pressed against Orlando's back. Orlando just nodded, the movement jerky, and groaned between his teeth when Hugo's hand snaked around to circle Orlando's cock. Hard, hot flesh filled his palm as Hugo slid his hand up, twisted his wrist, slid his hand back down. Another groan from Orlando. Hugo wondered how many groans he could get. Push. Thrust. Slide. Again. Beautiful. Orlando rocked forward, cock sliding in and out of Hugo's fist. Rocked back, impaling himself on Hugo's cock with each movement. And Hugo was left in awe at how responsive, how much of a very willing participant, Orlando was. Their smooth, simple rhythm turned jerky, erratic, each thrust now barely controlled. Then Orlando arched, back stiff, mouth open on a soft cry, and Hugo felt liquid heat spill over his fingers. He had a hell of a time preventing his own orgasm right then as tight muscles spasmed around him. Then, still shuddering in the aftermath, Orlando grasped Hugo's hand, brought it to his lips. What? Oh. Oh, God. Oh, sweet Jesus. Orlando's soft, hot tongue was sliding along Hugo's palm, over his fingers. He licked every trace of his come from Hugo's hand, greedily suckled his fingers. And that, Hugo's body decided, was entirely too fucking erotic. One arm tight around Orlando's waist, face buried in the juncture of neck and shoulder, Hugo managed one last, deep thrust before his orgasm ripped through him, leaving him shaken and breathless. Then he heard Orlando's quiet, raspy whisper. "Again." "Well?" Sean asked, grabbing Orlando's wrist as he walked past the table. A quick tug landed Orlando in his lap. Viggo leaned forward, watched them intently, breakfast forgotten. "Well what?" Orlando asked, innocent smile firmly in place. Viggo snorted, shook his head as he sat back in his seat. Sean just grimaced. "You know perfectly well what, brat," he said, nuzzling Orlando's neck. "What happened with Hugo?" "Oh, that." Orlando twisted around and got comfortable, earning himself a light swat from Sean in the process. Reaching across the table, Orlando stole a piece of Viggo's toast and waved it in the air. "Gentlemen don't kiss and tell." "I was right!" Sean almost crowed in triumph. Orlando just made a face. Viggo looked at Sean calmly, then focused on Orlando. "You're not a gentleman," he said, earning himself a wounded sniff from Orlando. Bastard. Both of them. Bastards. "And neither are either of you," Orlando shot back. He glanced up as a small group passed the table. "But Hugo is." "I am what?" Hugo asked, pulling away from the group long enough to stop. Orlando smiled. "A gentleman." "Ah, yes." Hugo flashed a secretive smile at the three men. Neither Viggo nor Sean missed the wink he bestowed on Orlando. "Someone has to be the gentleman in this lot." "So, tell us, Hugo," Sean said, leaned forward. His grin very much resembled that of the Cheshire Cat. "How fast did you take advantage of our little imp last night?" "Yes, Hugo," Viggo added, sly grin matching Sean's. "Do tell." "Me?" Hugo blinked, feigned surprise creasing his forehead. "I can assure you both that I certainly didn't take advantage of Orlando." Orlando just leaned back against Sean and looked entirely too smug for his own good. "In fact," Hugo continued. "I'd say that everything that happened last night was very mutual." "Oh, really?" Viggo arched an eyebrow, looked at Sean. "Yes, really," Orlando said, serene smile gracing his face. "I see," Sean said, smiling a slow, lazy smile. Viggo wore an identical expression. Hugo just laughed softly and winked at Orlando again. As he seated himself at a nearby table, he could overhear Sean and Viggo questioning Orlando. And Orlando, much to Hugo's delight, informed them that it was none of their business. If they had wanted to know, he told them, they should have bought him their damned selves. Hugo chuckled, shook his head. Picking up his menu, he wondered how long it would take before Sean and Viggo got their detailed report. Something told him it wouldn't be long.
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