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Entry tags:
Ficlet: Viggo/Sean
Something that began as a page of scribble in an old note pad...and then goaded on by Viggo!muse. He's so persistent when he wants to be...
Title: The Question of How (1/2)
Author: Archet
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Rating: PG
Summary: Viggo is distracted by a question.
Disclaimer: This is fiction. I made it all up and am in no way implying anything regarding the real lives of the men who are inspirations for these characters.
Feedback: welcomed and appreciated! let's me know something worked, or didn't ;)
Archive: not without my permission, thanks.
~**~
It was the question, not any particular pang of inspiration, that wouldn’t let him sleep, that drove him into his makeshift studio even though the morning was still black as night outside the windows. It was the same nagging question that occupied him so completely in moments like these, that had him settling down on the stool and reaching for his brushes. He fumbled sleepily and the wooden spines of the paintbrushes clattered against the glass jar’s rim. The sound was soothing in a way, something of the familiar in the moment where his mind felt foggy and distracted, treading unfamiliar territory.
The question: it was about love, and weren’t so many about love? Who, when, where and why, but for Viggo, at the moment it was all about how. He knew who, that was easy. He knew when, right now. The where was pretty much everywhere, as Viggo thought about who he loved daily, constantly and well, everywhere. As for why? Well, why did one person love another? Why did he love Sean? For him there were a thousand answers to why, starting with a pair of mesmerizing green eyes and a beautiful soul and numbering on and on, and so Viggo let why fall by the wayside without worry.
No, it was all about the how, of it. How was he to apply his love for Sean Bean to the real world, to their friendship and make it work? How was he to tell Sean how he felt because they were friends, damn good friends and Viggo knew enough to know that the occasional glances Sean gave him were representative of a definite interest...but Viggo wasn’t after interest, or being friends who fucked, no matter how undeniably gorgeous his friend was. Viggo was after more than being friends and more than exploring a passing interest. He was after love, and as he sat on his stool, paintbrush loaded with paint and poised an inch above the canvas, frozen with indecision, the question of how hovering over his shoulder with a vengeance, Viggo realized something.
He was getting ahead of himself. He lowered the paintbrush and made a bold red swipe across the blank field of white canvas, and then another. He reached for another brush, dabbed at a bit of green and made a confident criss-cross, hatch work pattern around the borders of the red. By the time he’d added in the blue ripples he was smiling.
He had been getting ahead of himself. He was after love, yes, but first, well, first he’d have to seduce the man. After all, he had an obligation to find out if those interested glances Sean had been giving him were more than just interest, indeed...which brought him back to how.
Viggo painted and planned until the sun came up and flooded the room with warm, yellow light, and when sometime in the still early hours he ambled sleepily back to bed, he was still smiling. He’d answered his question, undoubtedly the first of many, but a guy had to start somewhere and how seemed as good a place as any.
Title: The Question of How (1/2)
Author: Archet
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Rating: PG
Summary: Viggo is distracted by a question.
Disclaimer: This is fiction. I made it all up and am in no way implying anything regarding the real lives of the men who are inspirations for these characters.
Feedback: welcomed and appreciated! let's me know something worked, or didn't ;)
Archive: not without my permission, thanks.
~**~
It was the question, not any particular pang of inspiration, that wouldn’t let him sleep, that drove him into his makeshift studio even though the morning was still black as night outside the windows. It was the same nagging question that occupied him so completely in moments like these, that had him settling down on the stool and reaching for his brushes. He fumbled sleepily and the wooden spines of the paintbrushes clattered against the glass jar’s rim. The sound was soothing in a way, something of the familiar in the moment where his mind felt foggy and distracted, treading unfamiliar territory.
The question: it was about love, and weren’t so many about love? Who, when, where and why, but for Viggo, at the moment it was all about how. He knew who, that was easy. He knew when, right now. The where was pretty much everywhere, as Viggo thought about who he loved daily, constantly and well, everywhere. As for why? Well, why did one person love another? Why did he love Sean? For him there were a thousand answers to why, starting with a pair of mesmerizing green eyes and a beautiful soul and numbering on and on, and so Viggo let why fall by the wayside without worry.
No, it was all about the how, of it. How was he to apply his love for Sean Bean to the real world, to their friendship and make it work? How was he to tell Sean how he felt because they were friends, damn good friends and Viggo knew enough to know that the occasional glances Sean gave him were representative of a definite interest...but Viggo wasn’t after interest, or being friends who fucked, no matter how undeniably gorgeous his friend was. Viggo was after more than being friends and more than exploring a passing interest. He was after love, and as he sat on his stool, paintbrush loaded with paint and poised an inch above the canvas, frozen with indecision, the question of how hovering over his shoulder with a vengeance, Viggo realized something.
He was getting ahead of himself. He lowered the paintbrush and made a bold red swipe across the blank field of white canvas, and then another. He reached for another brush, dabbed at a bit of green and made a confident criss-cross, hatch work pattern around the borders of the red. By the time he’d added in the blue ripples he was smiling.
He had been getting ahead of himself. He was after love, yes, but first, well, first he’d have to seduce the man. After all, he had an obligation to find out if those interested glances Sean had been giving him were more than just interest, indeed...which brought him back to how.
Viggo painted and planned until the sun came up and flooded the room with warm, yellow light, and when sometime in the still early hours he ambled sleepily back to bed, he was still smiling. He’d answered his question, undoubtedly the first of many, but a guy had to start somewhere and how seemed as good a place as any.