Ficlet: Viggo/Sean
Aug. 22nd, 2006 10:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
archetHerein, there be sap. ;)
Title: Taste of Happiness
Author: Archet
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Rating: R
Summary: Sean wants something, Viggo doesn’t get it.
Disclaimer: this is fiction 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!
~*~
Green eyes regarded him warmly, and Viggo felt his resolve dissolving away faster than sand castles against the tide.
“Come on, Vig.”
“No.”
“Right, you know you want to. See it on your face, I can.”
Viggo exhaled loudly, exasperated, and dropping his head back on his pillow, glared . . . or at least tried to. Sean lay tucked against his side, lean body bare except for the glisten of cooling sweat that Viggo had worked on him a few minutes before, and who the fuck could glare at that?
“What you see on my face, is the tremendous satisfaction of having come long, and I might add, very fucking hard, in your ass.”
Sean snorted, eyes narrowing, and he moved away, but only far enough to snag his pillow. Rolling onto his belly he used the plush pillow as a support, wrapping his arms around it, chin propped on top of his folded hands. Again the warm regard, and Viggo sensed the plotting and maneuvering was truly about to begin.
“Don’t see why you’re so bloody well set against the idea.”
Viggo sighed, turned onto his side, ran his foot along the curve of Sean’s naked calf. “It’s crazy, that’s why.”
“Should be right perfect fit for you, then.”
Viggo hid the grin that threatened, skimmed his big toe across that sweet, incredibly sensitive spot behind Sean’s knee. A soft murmur and a tiny roll of the hips was his reward, and Viggo circled the spot with his toe, mercilessly gentle. Another roll of the hips a low noise from Sean, and Viggo’s grin surfaced and widened, smugly.
Sean shifted his leg impatiently under the teasing stroke. “Stop avoiding the issue at hand, Vig.”
Withdrawing his foot, Viggo offered, “I’m not avoiding anything.” He was interrupted by an indelicate snort. “I’ve already told you, I don’t want to.”
Sean licked his lips, grinning as Vig’s eyes automatically tracked the move. “If I recall correctly, you said as much about the caramel flavored body paint. Look how well that turned out.”
Heat thrilled across Viggo’s skin as he recalled Sean, his body trembling, glistening with sweat and golden tinted edible body paint as Viggo slowly, so very slowly, licked him clean. It should’ve been a sticky, ridiculous mess . . . but had turned out to be a gorgeous, delicious experience.
When Viggo came back to himself, Sean was watching him, practically smirking, green eyes gleaming. “That was different,” he objected.
“Hm, right.” Sean offered, relaxing down on his side of the bed on his pillow.
Viggo wondered suddenly just when the pillow and the left side of his king-sized mattress left his ownership and entered Sean’s. Like so much between them, it’d just happened, and only afterwards did it occur to Vig to wonder when and how. Quite a few things in his home belonged to Sean now, the pillow, the left side of the bed, three drawers of his dresser and a good third of his closet, the hammock out by the patio under the big oak . . . and several other things that had never belonged to anyone, except Viggo.
“How can you even--those are two diametrically different things, Sean. Jesus, what does the caramel body paint and flying all the fuck the way to London to see some soccer--”
Viggo stalled in the face of Sean’s supremely offended look.
“Football. I meant to say football.”
Sean pinned him with another look, apparently having entered the realms of the deeply insulted. “Christ. Right. Fine. You don’t want to go with me, then bloody well don’t.”
The short, clipped response triggered something in Viggo, something that warned him they were in danger of passing out of Sean’s taking the piss-slash-cajoling Viggo into doing something he doesn’t really want to do territory, and into something more meaningful, serious territory. Then he realized Sean didn’t sound quite as careless as Viggo would've liked when he said he’d go to the match alone. The hell?
“Wait. You’re going alone?”
Sean shrugged, sinking down onto his pillow, eyes sliding away from Viggo’s. “Possibly. Sure. Why not?”
Viggo suddenly wanted to touch. To touch and work out where the playful piss taking had gone. To figure out why it was suddenly so important for Sean to get out of bed, climb on a plane, fly across a whole ocean in order to see something he could take in via satellite feed. Unable to keep his hands to himself, Viggo reached out, carded his fingers through Sean’s mussed, dark blond hair. The strands, still slightly sweat-damp, slipped and slid around his fingers like silk.
“That you want do to this, that you want to this when it involves unnecessary air travel leads me to wonder why you’re so damned hot to go. Not to mention getting out a perfectly good bed.”
Viggo knew he was on the right track when Sean’s gaze strayed just around his edges, avoiding looking him in the eye.
“Spill.”
“You’re daft. Who says there’s anything to spill?”
“I do. Now, out with it.” Viggo finger combed blond hair back from Sean’s face.
“Pushy bastard.” Sean grumbled, his startling green eyes slowly coming up to meet Viggo’s. “Was homesick, like. And I . . . rather thought, well, we’ve been all over your bloody mountains, hiking, camping, goddamned horseback riding, the whole lot. Just thought it’d been nice if we did something, fuck, I dunno. Would like to show you some of my home, I suppose.”
Viggo smiled at those last, quiet words, and something flared deep inside, warmly, like a match taking a spark. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?”
Sean’s expression blanked, then his grin started, slow and steady. Viggo grinned too, and he speculated if the look in Sean’s eyes was happiness. Their time together was so good, he tried not to speculate too much, too often, but just go with the flow. He tried not to, but does now, because he’s pretty sure Sean’s fairly pleased, if not something even stronger.
Sean’s open, infectious grin turned sly, and he licked his lips, an unconscious habit of his that never failed to garner every piece of Viggo’s attention. Viggo’s fingers slipped down to Sean’s nape, massaging gently before cradling the back of his head, urging him up from his pillow, to come closer. Their lips met, brushing together almost delicately, soft and warm before Sean opened and took Viggo in, and the kiss melted into something more, something deep and searching.
Sean reached up, pulling Viggo close, and somewhere in the rising current of heat and desire and that nebulous ‘something more’ that Viggo didn't like to speculate about, he thought fuck it, because yeah, this is something more. It was in his mouth and on his tongue, and Viggo smiled against Sean’s lips and thought that this was what happiness tasted like. This was what Sean’s happiness tasted like, and in the finding of it, Viggo tasted his own.
Title: Taste of Happiness
Author: Archet
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Rating: R
Summary: Sean wants something, Viggo doesn’t get it.
Disclaimer: this is fiction 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!
~*~
Green eyes regarded him warmly, and Viggo felt his resolve dissolving away faster than sand castles against the tide.
“Come on, Vig.”
“No.”
“Right, you know you want to. See it on your face, I can.”
Viggo exhaled loudly, exasperated, and dropping his head back on his pillow, glared . . . or at least tried to. Sean lay tucked against his side, lean body bare except for the glisten of cooling sweat that Viggo had worked on him a few minutes before, and who the fuck could glare at that?
“What you see on my face, is the tremendous satisfaction of having come long, and I might add, very fucking hard, in your ass.”
Sean snorted, eyes narrowing, and he moved away, but only far enough to snag his pillow. Rolling onto his belly he used the plush pillow as a support, wrapping his arms around it, chin propped on top of his folded hands. Again the warm regard, and Viggo sensed the plotting and maneuvering was truly about to begin.
“Don’t see why you’re so bloody well set against the idea.”
Viggo sighed, turned onto his side, ran his foot along the curve of Sean’s naked calf. “It’s crazy, that’s why.”
“Should be right perfect fit for you, then.”
Viggo hid the grin that threatened, skimmed his big toe across that sweet, incredibly sensitive spot behind Sean’s knee. A soft murmur and a tiny roll of the hips was his reward, and Viggo circled the spot with his toe, mercilessly gentle. Another roll of the hips a low noise from Sean, and Viggo’s grin surfaced and widened, smugly.
Sean shifted his leg impatiently under the teasing stroke. “Stop avoiding the issue at hand, Vig.”
Withdrawing his foot, Viggo offered, “I’m not avoiding anything.” He was interrupted by an indelicate snort. “I’ve already told you, I don’t want to.”
Sean licked his lips, grinning as Vig’s eyes automatically tracked the move. “If I recall correctly, you said as much about the caramel flavored body paint. Look how well that turned out.”
Heat thrilled across Viggo’s skin as he recalled Sean, his body trembling, glistening with sweat and golden tinted edible body paint as Viggo slowly, so very slowly, licked him clean. It should’ve been a sticky, ridiculous mess . . . but had turned out to be a gorgeous, delicious experience.
When Viggo came back to himself, Sean was watching him, practically smirking, green eyes gleaming. “That was different,” he objected.
“Hm, right.” Sean offered, relaxing down on his side of the bed on his pillow.
Viggo wondered suddenly just when the pillow and the left side of his king-sized mattress left his ownership and entered Sean’s. Like so much between them, it’d just happened, and only afterwards did it occur to Vig to wonder when and how. Quite a few things in his home belonged to Sean now, the pillow, the left side of the bed, three drawers of his dresser and a good third of his closet, the hammock out by the patio under the big oak . . . and several other things that had never belonged to anyone, except Viggo.
“How can you even--those are two diametrically different things, Sean. Jesus, what does the caramel body paint and flying all the fuck the way to London to see some soccer--”
Viggo stalled in the face of Sean’s supremely offended look.
“Football. I meant to say football.”
Sean pinned him with another look, apparently having entered the realms of the deeply insulted. “Christ. Right. Fine. You don’t want to go with me, then bloody well don’t.”
The short, clipped response triggered something in Viggo, something that warned him they were in danger of passing out of Sean’s taking the piss-slash-cajoling Viggo into doing something he doesn’t really want to do territory, and into something more meaningful, serious territory. Then he realized Sean didn’t sound quite as careless as Viggo would've liked when he said he’d go to the match alone. The hell?
“Wait. You’re going alone?”
Sean shrugged, sinking down onto his pillow, eyes sliding away from Viggo’s. “Possibly. Sure. Why not?”
Viggo suddenly wanted to touch. To touch and work out where the playful piss taking had gone. To figure out why it was suddenly so important for Sean to get out of bed, climb on a plane, fly across a whole ocean in order to see something he could take in via satellite feed. Unable to keep his hands to himself, Viggo reached out, carded his fingers through Sean’s mussed, dark blond hair. The strands, still slightly sweat-damp, slipped and slid around his fingers like silk.
“That you want do to this, that you want to this when it involves unnecessary air travel leads me to wonder why you’re so damned hot to go. Not to mention getting out a perfectly good bed.”
Viggo knew he was on the right track when Sean’s gaze strayed just around his edges, avoiding looking him in the eye.
“Spill.”
“You’re daft. Who says there’s anything to spill?”
“I do. Now, out with it.” Viggo finger combed blond hair back from Sean’s face.
“Pushy bastard.” Sean grumbled, his startling green eyes slowly coming up to meet Viggo’s. “Was homesick, like. And I . . . rather thought, well, we’ve been all over your bloody mountains, hiking, camping, goddamned horseback riding, the whole lot. Just thought it’d been nice if we did something, fuck, I dunno. Would like to show you some of my home, I suppose.”
Viggo smiled at those last, quiet words, and something flared deep inside, warmly, like a match taking a spark. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?”
Sean’s expression blanked, then his grin started, slow and steady. Viggo grinned too, and he speculated if the look in Sean’s eyes was happiness. Their time together was so good, he tried not to speculate too much, too often, but just go with the flow. He tried not to, but does now, because he’s pretty sure Sean’s fairly pleased, if not something even stronger.
Sean’s open, infectious grin turned sly, and he licked his lips, an unconscious habit of his that never failed to garner every piece of Viggo’s attention. Viggo’s fingers slipped down to Sean’s nape, massaging gently before cradling the back of his head, urging him up from his pillow, to come closer. Their lips met, brushing together almost delicately, soft and warm before Sean opened and took Viggo in, and the kiss melted into something more, something deep and searching.
Sean reached up, pulling Viggo close, and somewhere in the rising current of heat and desire and that nebulous ‘something more’ that Viggo didn't like to speculate about, he thought fuck it, because yeah, this is something more. It was in his mouth and on his tongue, and Viggo smiled against Sean’s lips and thought that this was what happiness tasted like. This was what Sean’s happiness tasted like, and in the finding of it, Viggo tasted his own.
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no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 04:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:40 am (UTC)*big squishy hugs for you* ;)
no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 04:51 am (UTC)Viggo smiled against Sean’s lips and thought that this was what happiness tasted like.
Very loving story...I enjoyed it
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 05:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 06:07 am (UTC)including his heart and sould, I think.
This was such a beautiful piece of writing to wake up to. Thank you for making my morning and for continuing to write such brilliant VigBeaniness. I've friended you - hope that is ok. I've been reading and loving your stuff for ages!
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 06:20 am (UTC)Thanks for sharing. Thanks to ALL of you for sharing.
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Date: 2006-08-24 12:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 02:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 06:29 am (UTC)A really lovely mixture of tenderness and humour and hotness(er, heat)!
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Date: 2006-08-24 12:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 07:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 09:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 10:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 12:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 12:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 01:30 pm (UTC)Thank you--quite the perfect thing with my tea this morning!
~Kris
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 04:10 pm (UTC)“Spill.”
“You’re daft. Who says there’s anything to spill?”
“I do. Now, out with it.”
That says an awful lot about how they work things out together. I quite enjoyed this!
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 04:36 pm (UTC)Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 05:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-23 07:19 pm (UTC)Like so much between them, it’d just happened, and only afterwards did it occur to Vig to wonder when and how. Quite a few things in his home belonged to Sean now, the pillow, the left side of the bed, three drawers of his dresser and a good third of his closet, the hammock out by the patio under the big oak . . . and several other things that had never belonged to anyone, except Viggo.
to illustrate how far the relationship has progressed already without their noticing and the current of unconscious commitment underneath it all. And stylistically speaking, you nailed both their voices :)
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 12:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 01:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 01:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 07:28 am (UTC)That was so beautifully expressed. Viggo's almost-surprise that "his" things had now become "Sean's" things and in the process "our" things was a lovely sentiment.
And their being able to almost read each other's minds and know how the other will eventually react and even knowing just how far to 'push' speaks volumes for their close relationship.
That was a wonderful episode . . . football and home to be shared with Viggo . . .
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Date: 2006-08-24 05:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 10:09 am (UTC)Angie
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Date: 2006-09-22 10:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-31 04:53 am (UTC)