![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
from drabbles to mini-ficlet
Title: Past Midnight
Series: Question and Answer (3/4)
Author: Archet
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Rating: R
Summary: he can’t stay away, but he can’t let things remain the same.
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: weirdly enough, exactly 400 words, follows Parting Shot, and California Sun.
~*~
Nearly midnight, and Los Angeles’ sprawl falls away, fading to black outside the rental car’s windows. Even so, navigating my way to Vig’s place is easy. Been here plenty of times lately. Of the house he’s taken on here, he says it isn’t Idaho, not by any means, but it’s convenient, and there’s some such about the way the afternoon sunlight comes down through the trees that he likes. It’s something special, he says. I suppose it is, if Viggo says so.
Once, he said he wanted to photograph me, out there under his sun filled trees. Kissing him seemed easier than saying, ‘Yeah, I’d like that.' Seems the only way I can really speak to him is with my body. Not sure what that means. Nothing good, I imagine.
Right, there’s his drive. He’s left the gate open, and I maneuver past it, parking the car, ignoring the clench in my chest. Fucking daft, this is. Well past midnight now, but several of the windows of the house glow warmly, lit from within. I can feel him in there, waiting. Leaving the car, I cross the lawn, the shallow porch. The front door’s closed, but before I can knock it swings back.
Viggo. Hair mussed, half dressed. His gaze moves over me, thorough like, as if making sure I’m all there . . . this is where he reaches for me, and we stumble upstairs. Where he takes me to bed, rides me until I’m shaking, begging for it. Or, sometimes it’s him, doing the begging, but he’s always the one to reach out first.
He does reach, finally, pulls me inside. I go, thinking suddenly I can always count on him that way. When did I start feeling like that? Counting on him? Not sure, but I want to be with him, under him, in him, but I can’t take another early morning leaving. Can’t go to his bed and be his, without being his, and I’m not sure if we’re about to end, or start again.
I hesitate and he feels it, withdraws watching me and I’m sorry I’ve put such tension in his eyes. “Vig, can we, talk, maybe?”
He breathes out as if I’ve done something right, for once, and draws me close, mouth slanting over mine in a hard, searching kiss. Doesn’t last nearly long enough, and he’s easing back, almost smiling, answering my question.
“Yeah. Absolutely.”
Series: Question and Answer (3/4)
Author: Archet
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Rating: R
Summary: he can’t stay away, but he can’t let things remain the same.
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: weirdly enough, exactly 400 words, follows Parting Shot, and California Sun.
~*~
Nearly midnight, and Los Angeles’ sprawl falls away, fading to black outside the rental car’s windows. Even so, navigating my way to Vig’s place is easy. Been here plenty of times lately. Of the house he’s taken on here, he says it isn’t Idaho, not by any means, but it’s convenient, and there’s some such about the way the afternoon sunlight comes down through the trees that he likes. It’s something special, he says. I suppose it is, if Viggo says so.
Once, he said he wanted to photograph me, out there under his sun filled trees. Kissing him seemed easier than saying, ‘Yeah, I’d like that.' Seems the only way I can really speak to him is with my body. Not sure what that means. Nothing good, I imagine.
Right, there’s his drive. He’s left the gate open, and I maneuver past it, parking the car, ignoring the clench in my chest. Fucking daft, this is. Well past midnight now, but several of the windows of the house glow warmly, lit from within. I can feel him in there, waiting. Leaving the car, I cross the lawn, the shallow porch. The front door’s closed, but before I can knock it swings back.
Viggo. Hair mussed, half dressed. His gaze moves over me, thorough like, as if making sure I’m all there . . . this is where he reaches for me, and we stumble upstairs. Where he takes me to bed, rides me until I’m shaking, begging for it. Or, sometimes it’s him, doing the begging, but he’s always the one to reach out first.
He does reach, finally, pulls me inside. I go, thinking suddenly I can always count on him that way. When did I start feeling like that? Counting on him? Not sure, but I want to be with him, under him, in him, but I can’t take another early morning leaving. Can’t go to his bed and be his, without being his, and I’m not sure if we’re about to end, or start again.
I hesitate and he feels it, withdraws watching me and I’m sorry I’ve put such tension in his eyes. “Vig, can we, talk, maybe?”
He breathes out as if I’ve done something right, for once, and draws me close, mouth slanting over mine in a hard, searching kiss. Doesn’t last nearly long enough, and he’s easing back, almost smiling, answering my question.
“Yeah. Absolutely.”
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
And yay for them finally talking!
~Kris
no subject
I'm thinking there'll be more talking next part, thanks for reading! ;)
no subject
no subject
no subject
Sean seems to be the realist . . . and at last he's convinced Viggo to take talk over action.
It's a wonderful series.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
I love the way that you had so much details into Sean feelings.
no subject
no subject