Double drabble
Aug. 7th, 2006 10:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
archetTitle: California Sun
Series: Question and Answer (2/4)
Author: Archet
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Rating: R
Summary: he won’t share my bed, not in the way I want.
Disclaimer: this is fiction, for entertainment purposes only and in no way implies anything as to the real lives to the lovely men who are inspirations for these characters.
Feedback: welcomed and appreciated!
Note: double drabble, exactly 200 words, follows Parting Shot
~*~
The sun’s sliding down behind the oaks, and I enjoy this, watching a quiet afternoon play out. The flow of sunlight and shadow drifts across the intricate tangle of the trees, sifts through their tall crowns, down across the thicker bones of limbs and trunks . . . fuck, I wish he were here. He gives me nights, but when this same California sun barely has a chance to break over these same trees, he leaves.
He’ll let me fuck him, but he won’t share my bed, not in the way I want.
The central air conditioning clicks on, gently circulating small currents of air, modulated to a certain comfortable degree. Wonder if a heart could work that way? Switch on, off, stay evenly modulated . . . yeah right. Not me, no fucking way.
Don’t expect him to return my call. He’ll either show, or he won’t. I’ll wait, won’t push, see what he wants to do. We have our nights, our barely mornings, and if he comes to me I’ll take him. I’ll love him, show him I’m not trying to undo what’s gone before. I’ll take whatever tiny slice of opportunity he gives me. Swear to god, I’ll do it right, this time.
Series: Question and Answer (2/4)
Author: Archet
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Rating: R
Summary: he won’t share my bed, not in the way I want.
Disclaimer: this is fiction, for entertainment purposes only and in no way implies anything as to the real lives to the lovely men who are inspirations for these characters.
Feedback: welcomed and appreciated!
Note: double drabble, exactly 200 words, follows Parting Shot
~*~
The sun’s sliding down behind the oaks, and I enjoy this, watching a quiet afternoon play out. The flow of sunlight and shadow drifts across the intricate tangle of the trees, sifts through their tall crowns, down across the thicker bones of limbs and trunks . . . fuck, I wish he were here. He gives me nights, but when this same California sun barely has a chance to break over these same trees, he leaves.
He’ll let me fuck him, but he won’t share my bed, not in the way I want.
The central air conditioning clicks on, gently circulating small currents of air, modulated to a certain comfortable degree. Wonder if a heart could work that way? Switch on, off, stay evenly modulated . . . yeah right. Not me, no fucking way.
Don’t expect him to return my call. He’ll either show, or he won’t. I’ll wait, won’t push, see what he wants to do. We have our nights, our barely mornings, and if he comes to me I’ll take him. I’ll love him, show him I’m not trying to undo what’s gone before. I’ll take whatever tiny slice of opportunity he gives me. Swear to god, I’ll do it right, this time.
