My first official VigBean!
Mar. 30th, 2003 06:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
archetAnd now no longer being able to resist the lure of writing a Viggo/Sean, a fluffy ficlet.
Title: Staying the Week
Warning: Real People Slash
Author: Archet
Pairing: Viggo/SeanB
Summary: Viggo and Sean watch the news.
Dislcaimer: This isn’t true. This is fiction. I made the entire thing up. I’m making no claims as to the preferences or lifestyles of these lovely men.
March 2003
Note: Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
karelian for beta. This is my first official effort at VigBean.
Viggo presses the mute button on the remote and the images flit soundlessly across the twenty-seven inch television screen. Images of sand and khaki clad soldiers, of helmeted reporters outfitted with bulletproof vests, gas masks and chemical suits. Viggo drops the remote on the couch cushion and snugs his arms back around Sean.
Sean’s hand wanders up, slips around Viggo’s neck and palms the warm skin found there, fingers massaging bunched muscles. Viggo relaxes beneath the touch, dips his head brushing his lips against Sean’s temple, breathes against Sean’s skin. “I’m glad you're here.”
Sean’s eyes are on the television as he replies, “I know. Me too.”
Quiet minutes slip by as the pictures file past on the television screen.
“You know,” Sean says suddenly, his fingers sidling up into Viggo’s hair, “I was thinking of staying on, ‘til the end of the week, maybe. It’d mean a bit of creative rescheduling, but I can make it work.”
The flickering television momentarily forgotten, Viggo can’t contain his smile. He doesn’t even try but presses it against Sean’s soft Macbeth-shorn hair, places a kiss there.
“I wanted to ask, but I guess with everything that’s going on...”
“You could've asked. You can ask, for anything, all right?”
Viggo nods, “Okay.” His hands slide across Sean's thin blue cotton t-shirt mapping the flat stomach hidden beneath the material. He nuzzles Sean’s ear, closing his lips around the lobe. He worries the pliable flesh with his teeth, swipes with his tongue and earns the same reaction he always gets when he nibbles Sean’s ear: a low drawn out ‘mmm’ and a tilting of the head that offers up a tempting column of naked throat.
Cradled against Viggo’s chest Sean relaxes, boneless beneath those hands and mouth, wrapped up by those arms and legs. His fingers twine with those splayed against his belly and as Viggo takes one last slow lick Sean shudders. Viggo whispers against Sean’s ear, “Do what you have to, stay the week with me.”
Sean is still for a breath, tilts his head back against Viggo’s shoulder and eyes have never been as green as those that gaze into Viggo.
“You asking, then?”
“Yeah,” Huskily, “I’m asking.”
Sean smirks, opening his mouth to say something sly and British but Viggo knows a golden opportunity when he sees one and kisses him, tongue sliding inside Sean’s mouth hungrily. Sean gasps, laughs against Viggo’s lips when playful fingers slip under his shirt and skate across his ribs. Viggo is merciless, biting Sean’s lower lip and sending his fingers raking along every reachable ticklish spot; he knows them all well.
They twist together on the couch laughing through sloppy, wet kisses. Viggo rolls to his left squashing the forgotten remote under his elbow as he turns. His arms and mouth are full of a laughing Sean when the rapid rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire erupts into the living room. They still on Viggo’s couch, breathing heavily, eyes turning toward the tv set.
Viggo’s arms tighten around Sean as they watch live images of soldiers jumping from a hovering helicopter amid a swirl of dust. Viggo can actually see the tiny patches of rank and insignia on the collars and shoulders of their mottled uniforms. He wishes them home tomorrow but knows better.
“Turn that bloody thing off.”
Viggo looks down at his long limbed Brit who isn’t interested in watching the news any longer. Holding Viggo’s gaze Sean licks his swollen bottom lip, making promises with a lazy lopsided smile. Viggo answers with a grin of his own, grabs the remote and pressing the orange button gladly sends the flickering images and blaring sounds fading into black.
As much as he’d like otherwise there’s nothing Viggo can do about what’s on tv, but Sean is there and he’s staying the week.
End
Title: Staying the Week
Warning: Real People Slash
Author: Archet
Pairing: Viggo/SeanB
Summary: Viggo and Sean watch the news.
Dislcaimer: This isn’t true. This is fiction. I made the entire thing up. I’m making no claims as to the preferences or lifestyles of these lovely men.
March 2003
Note: Many thanks to
karelian for beta. This is my first official effort at VigBean.Viggo presses the mute button on the remote and the images flit soundlessly across the twenty-seven inch television screen. Images of sand and khaki clad soldiers, of helmeted reporters outfitted with bulletproof vests, gas masks and chemical suits. Viggo drops the remote on the couch cushion and snugs his arms back around Sean.
Sean’s hand wanders up, slips around Viggo’s neck and palms the warm skin found there, fingers massaging bunched muscles. Viggo relaxes beneath the touch, dips his head brushing his lips against Sean’s temple, breathes against Sean’s skin. “I’m glad you're here.”
Sean’s eyes are on the television as he replies, “I know. Me too.”
Quiet minutes slip by as the pictures file past on the television screen.
“You know,” Sean says suddenly, his fingers sidling up into Viggo’s hair, “I was thinking of staying on, ‘til the end of the week, maybe. It’d mean a bit of creative rescheduling, but I can make it work.”
The flickering television momentarily forgotten, Viggo can’t contain his smile. He doesn’t even try but presses it against Sean’s soft Macbeth-shorn hair, places a kiss there.
“I wanted to ask, but I guess with everything that’s going on...”
“You could've asked. You can ask, for anything, all right?”
Viggo nods, “Okay.” His hands slide across Sean's thin blue cotton t-shirt mapping the flat stomach hidden beneath the material. He nuzzles Sean’s ear, closing his lips around the lobe. He worries the pliable flesh with his teeth, swipes with his tongue and earns the same reaction he always gets when he nibbles Sean’s ear: a low drawn out ‘mmm’ and a tilting of the head that offers up a tempting column of naked throat.
Cradled against Viggo’s chest Sean relaxes, boneless beneath those hands and mouth, wrapped up by those arms and legs. His fingers twine with those splayed against his belly and as Viggo takes one last slow lick Sean shudders. Viggo whispers against Sean’s ear, “Do what you have to, stay the week with me.”
Sean is still for a breath, tilts his head back against Viggo’s shoulder and eyes have never been as green as those that gaze into Viggo.
“You asking, then?”
“Yeah,” Huskily, “I’m asking.”
Sean smirks, opening his mouth to say something sly and British but Viggo knows a golden opportunity when he sees one and kisses him, tongue sliding inside Sean’s mouth hungrily. Sean gasps, laughs against Viggo’s lips when playful fingers slip under his shirt and skate across his ribs. Viggo is merciless, biting Sean’s lower lip and sending his fingers raking along every reachable ticklish spot; he knows them all well.
They twist together on the couch laughing through sloppy, wet kisses. Viggo rolls to his left squashing the forgotten remote under his elbow as he turns. His arms and mouth are full of a laughing Sean when the rapid rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire erupts into the living room. They still on Viggo’s couch, breathing heavily, eyes turning toward the tv set.
Viggo’s arms tighten around Sean as they watch live images of soldiers jumping from a hovering helicopter amid a swirl of dust. Viggo can actually see the tiny patches of rank and insignia on the collars and shoulders of their mottled uniforms. He wishes them home tomorrow but knows better.
“Turn that bloody thing off.”
Viggo looks down at his long limbed Brit who isn’t interested in watching the news any longer. Holding Viggo’s gaze Sean licks his swollen bottom lip, making promises with a lazy lopsided smile. Viggo answers with a grin of his own, grabs the remote and pressing the orange button gladly sends the flickering images and blaring sounds fading into black.
As much as he’d like otherwise there’s nothing Viggo can do about what’s on tv, but Sean is there and he’s staying the week.
End
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-03-30 07:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-03-30 10:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-03-30 10:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-03-31 04:43 pm (UTC)Oh, don't say that! Besides, they'd probably enjoy that too much.
and to hell with the fics.
Oh, no, no, nonono. Never say that. It only causes the plot bunny population to triple. In fact, here comes one now....*reaching for can of Bunny-Off*
no subject
Date: 2003-03-31 01:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-03-31 04:52 pm (UTC)No, thank you! Your fics (and many others) have been a true inspiration.
and they're so comfortable together, so loving
Exactly what I was trying for. I'm so pleased it turned out that way. Thanks again! *running off the read "Destiny"*