archet | Ficlet, VigBean

Title: Chopin
Author: Archet
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Rating: R
Summary: Sean listens to Chopin, in more ways than one.
Disclaimer: oh, you know none of it’s true, and implies nothing as to the real lives to the lovely men who inspired these characters.
Feedback: welcomed and appreciated!
Archive: my LJ, rugbytackle

~*~

Sean placed the compact disk in the stereo’s receiving drawer and pressed play. He waited until the silver cd was retracted inside the machine and out of sight, before crossing the room and flicking off the lights. He took the chair by the window, kicked off his trainers, sank down into the comfortable overstuffed armchair with relief.

Silence filled the house, until, a gentle note sounded from the speakers. A string of them politely followed, smooth and weightless in the darkness and Sean sighed as Chopin flowed inside his ear. The beautiful music tickled along his spine, caused him to stretch out his long legs, the relaxation taking hold as he rested his socked feet on the low slung ottoman.

His flight had been long and protracted, the headache he’d brought with him across the pond having only intensified as time passed . . . but he was comfortable now, and Viggo would be home any moment.

Settling deeper into the chair, Sean gazed out the clear window panes. Moonlight dripped from the dark skies, stroked the towering pines and stately oaks bordering Viggo’s Idaho home with a bare silver luminance. Sean looked, listened and imagined Chopin’s music, dipping and flying among the boughs, dropping at a moments notice to whisper in the pine needles carpeting the ground, only to arrow up again, unstoppable, toward the sky.

Notes skimmed and flew, delicate and then in a flash turned demanding, none of them still as Sean was. He sat still and listened to the glorious voice of Chopin’s song, the notes coated in moonlight, soaring and sinking all at once through the paths of his imagination. He felt relaxed and awakened all at the same time, and it was pure magic, this.

So relaxed was Sean, that when Viggo laid hands on him, he didn’t even move. Just exhaled, still filled with the dancing notes of passionate moonlit music. Warmth slid along his chest, hands, touching so gently . . . fingers cupped his chin, and suddenly the night burst with heat as Viggo’s mouth skated demandingly along his neck. His mouth was taken and Sean moaned hungrily into the kiss, opened wide and invited Viggo in.

Fingers slid into his hair and Sean soared, dipped and flew and came alive with a different kind of music, that of Viggo’s white hot voice, hands and mouth, as he played Sean so expertly. There was a sudden absence of music from the stereo as it paused, worked and whirred, began playing again as Sean had set it to play continuously on a repeating loop. Neither man noticed, entwined as they were on the chair, naked skin showing pale in the pearly moonlight.

Delicate notes trickled in, counter pointed by rough, needy moans, and as Sean’s body arched up from the chair the piano’s notes suddenly climbed the scales with him in his passion. Viggo’s voice flowed into his ear and Sean bucked against strong binding arms, and his last coherent thought before plunging into the well of pleasure was that Viggo was a lot like Chopin . . . unstoppable, unbelievable. Pure magic.

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: Chopin ~Nocturne Nr. 15