Tarnish (drabble collection, part 2)
Jul. 15th, 2003 03:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
helens78 posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rugbytackleArc: Tarnish (11-20)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
helens78
Archive: My JF -- anywhere else, just ask first
Category: SB/VM, with occasional others as means-to-an-end (this is me we're talking about here); drabble collection that takes us through a plot arc.
Rating: Let's give it an NC-17 just to be safe. We haven't been there yet, but we probably will eventually.
Summary: Something beautiful is tarnished, and the time it takes to put it back to rights.
Feedback: Yes, please! Positive or negative, all FB is gratefully welcomed.
Disclaimer: Fictional. Not real.
Notes: These are all going up as dailyporn on my JF -- http://www.journalfen.net/~helens78 -- so this is just a collection of bits that have already been posted elsewhere. Here are the first ten bits, if you missed them.
11. Come In
Viggo can't quite pull in a full breath on the way back to his place. He has this feeling that any minute, Sean is going to say something -- something like "I don't love you, I'm only here to tie up loose ends." Or maybe they'll get there and Sean will say, "Really, I don't think there's much more to talk about; I should go."
When they arrive, Sean shuts off the engine and turns to Viggo.
"Am I still coming in, then?"
And Viggo's more afraid to say yes than he realized he would be. But he says it anyway.
+++++
12. Untrustworthy
What Sean missed most about being in New Zealand was the feeling that he belonged here. The feeling that he was part of the Fellowship. And, of course, he knew that he was going to end up dying -- that the Fellowship would continue without him. He knew he would be leaving early.
He was the betrayer. The one who turned. The untrustworthy.
Sean is not a method actor. But he wonders now if Viggo's not the only one who's been too close to his role.
"I missed you," he blurts out.
Viggo stays quiet.
"I'm sorry."
"...damn right you are."
+++++
13. Staying Put
It hurts. It shouldn't. He didn't come here thinking he'd get hurt, he didn't come here thinking he'd want to kiss Viggo, he didn't come here thinking anything would happen. He just wanted to apologize for hurting Viggo. For making it look like he'd promised more than he could give. For taking what was offered without looking at what it was worth.
"What else do you want me to say?" he asks.
Viggo's expression has gone slack, and he's standing with his arms loose at his sides, in Sean's room, shaking his head slightly. "Whatever you came here to say," he says quietly.
This isn't what Sean expected, either -- having to do all the work. He's made the apology; it wasn't enough. Now he doesn't know where to go from here.
"I came here to say I'm sorry," Sean says, and then stops abruptly; he's said that already. What good is it going to do to keep going over it?
Viggo pauses, then slowly shoves his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. "All right. Say what you didn't come here to say, then."
"What I didn't--? God, Viggo, do you ever make sense?"
"No," Viggo says, very simply, with a small trace of a smile. And Sean is struck with the maddening urge to walk forward and pull him into his arms, kiss him again, and again, and not let go this time, just hang on until...
...he takes a step back and shakes his head. No. Not going there. Not doing that. No.
"No, I don't make sense," Viggo continues, leaning forward a bit, not taking that step but leaning, "but at least I'm not running away from how I feel."
And it's on the tip of Sean's tongue to say Who says I'm feeling anything?, but...
...he doesn't.
"I'm here now," Sean says, and it's as if someone else is talking through him. That can't be him saying those words. Can it?
"And?" Viggo prompts, taking one step forward.
"And I'm here now," Sean repeats, more quietly, not knowing what else he can say.
"And?" Viggo fires back, with another step forward.
And those eyes of his. Blue and piercing, and steady. Very steady. The odd, unexpected confidence in Viggo gives Sean a hint of pause, and when Viggo takes the last step forward, closing the distance between them, Sean goes very still.
"Touch me," Viggo urges.
"Oh, God." And it's so heartfelt Sean feels his eyes start to burn.
"Touch me." More urgently, more seriously.
"Please." But Sean doesn't take that step back. He could -- there's room -- but he doesn't want it. Doesn't want more distance between them. Can't close what little distance there is, but --
-- Viggo takes Sean's hands in his and pulls them up, cups his face in them.
"Ahh." Sean's eyes close; Viggo's stay steady.
"Now tell me what you didn't come here to tell me," Viggo whispers.
"I love you," Sean whispers. Later, he'll stare at the ceiling wondering where in God's green earth that came from. He doesn't get involved with people when he's filming. He doesn't let it mean more than just sex.
He doesn't fall in love anymore.
That's what it's about. He doesn't fall in love anymore. Doesn't fall in love, and especially doesn't fall in love with intense, artistic madmen who walk around Wellington barefoot and carry their swords around with them while filming.
Love is a story. Love has a beginning, and a middle, and an end. The reason so many fairy tales live with "happily ever after" is because it's only by fading to black when the feel of love is new that you can capture that "happily ever after" feeling and fool yourself into believing it lasts. Sean believes all of that. All of it.
And he's still completely shaken, standing here with his hands cupping Viggo's face, Viggo's hands holding his, having just said words he doesn't believe in and believes in completely.
"I love you," Viggo tells him, "but you knew that."
Sean is struck dumb. There's something trite and melodramatic that's supposed to happen when someone says "I love you" and the other person says it back. Something like hearts and flowers and violin music.
"Viggo, I can't--"
"Shut up, Sean."
"But I can't--"
"You're not running away again." It's almost, but not quite, his Aragorn voice. The one he uses to command armies. The one he'll use when he's King. "You're staying put."
Sean can't argue with that voice. He should. He can't.
"Tell me you're staying put."
"I'm staying put," Sean repeats.
"Tell me you love me."
His heart lurches, but he swallows and forces the words out anyway: "I love you."
Viggo leans forward, presses his lips to Sean's. "I love you," he murmurs, lips moving against Sean's, "and you're mine. You run away again and I'll track you down and fucking pin you to my bed, so don't even fucking think about it." His voice is soft, sweet, very steady, and Sean feels a shiver go up his spine from it. "Now tell me again."
"I love you," Sean murmurs, and this time it's easy. "I'm staying put."
"Damn right you are," Viggo tells him, and kisses him hard.
+++++
14. Hunger
Starved. Famished. Sean is ravenous, and with his appetite reawakened this way, it's so easy to say the words.
Or it would be, if his mouth weren't full.
Viggo watches him, eyes narrowed to slits, smiling. His fingers thread through Sean's hair, tease the nape of his neck, push Sean's mouth lower.
"Do I taste good?" he murmurs. "Do you want me to come for you?"
Sean lets out an answering affirmative moan, and his head bobs up and down in what Viggo can only assume is a nod. Viggo sighs, head tilting back, eyes closing, and satisfies Sean's hunger.
+++++
15. On The Ceiling
They've been fucking so much since Sean came back that they've had to invent new positions to keep from overtaxing mucles. They've fucked on every piece of furniture in Viggo's house, and the floor, and if they could have attached themselves to the ceiling and fucked there, they would have done that, too.
Viggo's on his back, looking up at the ceiling, while Sean sits on him, riding him, their fingers entwined. He wonders what it would be like, fucking on the ceiling, upside-down. Would they feel constantly in danger of falling? Would that be any different than this, really?
+++++
16. Keep Dreaming
"Christian wants to come out for a visit," Sean murmurs, head resting on Viggo's chest.
Viggo raises an eyebrow, allowing himself the reaction because Sean can't see it from his position. "And?"
"I'd like him to."
Viggo rolls his eyes, and this time he wouldn't care if Sean caught him doing it. "Keep going."
"...what?"
"You're going to have to say it, Sean."
Sean sighs, a bit irritated now. "All right. He'd come out expecting to sleep with me, and I'd want to."
"Keep dreaming," Viggo murmurs, tightening his grip on Sean. "You're all mine."
"...oh," Sean says. And smiles.
+++++
17. Now
"Now?" Sean asks, hopeful.
"No."
...later...
"Now?"
"No."
...later still...
"Viggo, please, now...?"
"No."
God. Sean is going to go out of his mind.
"Viggo, please..."
"If I wanted to fuck you, you'd have your pants around your ankles and I'd be pushing you into the counter, Sean." Viggo's gaze flicks to Sean, and then back at his improvised paper-plate palette. He goes with red this time. "So stop asking."
Sean closes his eyes. He hisses as the brush comes into contact with his thigh again. Every touch is a teasing caress on skin that badly wants more.
"...please..."
"No."
+++++
18. Blade
Things are better. Sean is back, home, and Viggo breathes a sigh of contented satisfaction, knowing he's here to stay.
Still, after having his heart broken, Viggo remains just slightly uneasy about Sean's presence. He's here, he's here to stay, but Viggo needs more than just Sean's physical presence. He needs some kind of reassurance. Something solid. Something he can taste.
He comes up behind Sean while Sean is standing at the bathroom sink, shaving. Sean's eyes meet Viggo's, and Sean smiles at first. Then his eyes hold Viggo's, and his gaze turns curious.
Viggo's eyes are on Sean's blade.
+++++
19. Veins
"What exactly is it you're asking?" Sean asks, hand over Viggo's. He's frowning, just a bit, and his eyes are clouded with confusion.
"I'm asking if you've ever bled for one of your lovers," Viggo says, very quietly. "If you'd like to."
"God, Viggo-- do you mean something metaphorical, in the 'I'd die for you' vein, or...?"
"It's veins, yes, that I'm talking about, but no, I'm not being metaphorical about it." Viggo loosens his hand from Sean's grip and traces his fingertips up Sean's arm. "I'm asking if you'd bleed for me."
"I don't understand."
"I want to cut you."
+++++
20. Cut Me
I want to cut you.
Sean is startled.
Shaken.
Intrigued.
Interested.
Aroused.
Viggo's been holding something back, ever since Sean came home. Sean doesn't know what it is, but there's something missing. Something Sean probably wouldn't even have noticed, before, but now... now, he wants it. Needs it.
Whatever it is.
He pulls a red marker out of a desk drawer and scribbles two words on a sheet of paper. Goes to the table next to the telephone, takes a knife-replica letter opener, slams it through the paper and into the surface of the table. Message left, unmistakably.
Cut me.
Author:
helens78Archive: My JF -- anywhere else, just ask first
Category: SB/VM, with occasional others as means-to-an-end (this is me we're talking about here); drabble collection that takes us through a plot arc.
Rating: Let's give it an NC-17 just to be safe. We haven't been there yet, but we probably will eventually.
Summary: Something beautiful is tarnished, and the time it takes to put it back to rights.
Feedback: Yes, please! Positive or negative, all FB is gratefully welcomed.
Disclaimer: Fictional. Not real.
Notes: These are all going up as dailyporn on my JF -- http://www.journalfen.net/~helens78 -- so this is just a collection of bits that have already been posted elsewhere. Here are the first ten bits, if you missed them.
11. Come In
Viggo can't quite pull in a full breath on the way back to his place. He has this feeling that any minute, Sean is going to say something -- something like "I don't love you, I'm only here to tie up loose ends." Or maybe they'll get there and Sean will say, "Really, I don't think there's much more to talk about; I should go."
When they arrive, Sean shuts off the engine and turns to Viggo.
"Am I still coming in, then?"
And Viggo's more afraid to say yes than he realized he would be. But he says it anyway.
+++++
12. Untrustworthy
What Sean missed most about being in New Zealand was the feeling that he belonged here. The feeling that he was part of the Fellowship. And, of course, he knew that he was going to end up dying -- that the Fellowship would continue without him. He knew he would be leaving early.
He was the betrayer. The one who turned. The untrustworthy.
Sean is not a method actor. But he wonders now if Viggo's not the only one who's been too close to his role.
"I missed you," he blurts out.
Viggo stays quiet.
"I'm sorry."
"...damn right you are."
+++++
13. Staying Put
It hurts. It shouldn't. He didn't come here thinking he'd get hurt, he didn't come here thinking he'd want to kiss Viggo, he didn't come here thinking anything would happen. He just wanted to apologize for hurting Viggo. For making it look like he'd promised more than he could give. For taking what was offered without looking at what it was worth.
"What else do you want me to say?" he asks.
Viggo's expression has gone slack, and he's standing with his arms loose at his sides, in Sean's room, shaking his head slightly. "Whatever you came here to say," he says quietly.
This isn't what Sean expected, either -- having to do all the work. He's made the apology; it wasn't enough. Now he doesn't know where to go from here.
"I came here to say I'm sorry," Sean says, and then stops abruptly; he's said that already. What good is it going to do to keep going over it?
Viggo pauses, then slowly shoves his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. "All right. Say what you didn't come here to say, then."
"What I didn't--? God, Viggo, do you ever make sense?"
"No," Viggo says, very simply, with a small trace of a smile. And Sean is struck with the maddening urge to walk forward and pull him into his arms, kiss him again, and again, and not let go this time, just hang on until...
...he takes a step back and shakes his head. No. Not going there. Not doing that. No.
"No, I don't make sense," Viggo continues, leaning forward a bit, not taking that step but leaning, "but at least I'm not running away from how I feel."
And it's on the tip of Sean's tongue to say Who says I'm feeling anything?, but...
...he doesn't.
"I'm here now," Sean says, and it's as if someone else is talking through him. That can't be him saying those words. Can it?
"And?" Viggo prompts, taking one step forward.
"And I'm here now," Sean repeats, more quietly, not knowing what else he can say.
"And?" Viggo fires back, with another step forward.
And those eyes of his. Blue and piercing, and steady. Very steady. The odd, unexpected confidence in Viggo gives Sean a hint of pause, and when Viggo takes the last step forward, closing the distance between them, Sean goes very still.
"Touch me," Viggo urges.
"Oh, God." And it's so heartfelt Sean feels his eyes start to burn.
"Touch me." More urgently, more seriously.
"Please." But Sean doesn't take that step back. He could -- there's room -- but he doesn't want it. Doesn't want more distance between them. Can't close what little distance there is, but --
-- Viggo takes Sean's hands in his and pulls them up, cups his face in them.
"Ahh." Sean's eyes close; Viggo's stay steady.
"Now tell me what you didn't come here to tell me," Viggo whispers.
"I love you," Sean whispers. Later, he'll stare at the ceiling wondering where in God's green earth that came from. He doesn't get involved with people when he's filming. He doesn't let it mean more than just sex.
He doesn't fall in love anymore.
That's what it's about. He doesn't fall in love anymore. Doesn't fall in love, and especially doesn't fall in love with intense, artistic madmen who walk around Wellington barefoot and carry their swords around with them while filming.
Love is a story. Love has a beginning, and a middle, and an end. The reason so many fairy tales live with "happily ever after" is because it's only by fading to black when the feel of love is new that you can capture that "happily ever after" feeling and fool yourself into believing it lasts. Sean believes all of that. All of it.
And he's still completely shaken, standing here with his hands cupping Viggo's face, Viggo's hands holding his, having just said words he doesn't believe in and believes in completely.
"I love you," Viggo tells him, "but you knew that."
Sean is struck dumb. There's something trite and melodramatic that's supposed to happen when someone says "I love you" and the other person says it back. Something like hearts and flowers and violin music.
"Viggo, I can't--"
"Shut up, Sean."
"But I can't--"
"You're not running away again." It's almost, but not quite, his Aragorn voice. The one he uses to command armies. The one he'll use when he's King. "You're staying put."
Sean can't argue with that voice. He should. He can't.
"Tell me you're staying put."
"I'm staying put," Sean repeats.
"Tell me you love me."
His heart lurches, but he swallows and forces the words out anyway: "I love you."
Viggo leans forward, presses his lips to Sean's. "I love you," he murmurs, lips moving against Sean's, "and you're mine. You run away again and I'll track you down and fucking pin you to my bed, so don't even fucking think about it." His voice is soft, sweet, very steady, and Sean feels a shiver go up his spine from it. "Now tell me again."
"I love you," Sean murmurs, and this time it's easy. "I'm staying put."
"Damn right you are," Viggo tells him, and kisses him hard.
+++++
14. Hunger
Starved. Famished. Sean is ravenous, and with his appetite reawakened this way, it's so easy to say the words.
Or it would be, if his mouth weren't full.
Viggo watches him, eyes narrowed to slits, smiling. His fingers thread through Sean's hair, tease the nape of his neck, push Sean's mouth lower.
"Do I taste good?" he murmurs. "Do you want me to come for you?"
Sean lets out an answering affirmative moan, and his head bobs up and down in what Viggo can only assume is a nod. Viggo sighs, head tilting back, eyes closing, and satisfies Sean's hunger.
+++++
15. On The Ceiling
They've been fucking so much since Sean came back that they've had to invent new positions to keep from overtaxing mucles. They've fucked on every piece of furniture in Viggo's house, and the floor, and if they could have attached themselves to the ceiling and fucked there, they would have done that, too.
Viggo's on his back, looking up at the ceiling, while Sean sits on him, riding him, their fingers entwined. He wonders what it would be like, fucking on the ceiling, upside-down. Would they feel constantly in danger of falling? Would that be any different than this, really?
+++++
16. Keep Dreaming
"Christian wants to come out for a visit," Sean murmurs, head resting on Viggo's chest.
Viggo raises an eyebrow, allowing himself the reaction because Sean can't see it from his position. "And?"
"I'd like him to."
Viggo rolls his eyes, and this time he wouldn't care if Sean caught him doing it. "Keep going."
"...what?"
"You're going to have to say it, Sean."
Sean sighs, a bit irritated now. "All right. He'd come out expecting to sleep with me, and I'd want to."
"Keep dreaming," Viggo murmurs, tightening his grip on Sean. "You're all mine."
"...oh," Sean says. And smiles.
+++++
17. Now
"Now?" Sean asks, hopeful.
"No."
...later...
"Now?"
"No."
...later still...
"Viggo, please, now...?"
"No."
God. Sean is going to go out of his mind.
"Viggo, please..."
"If I wanted to fuck you, you'd have your pants around your ankles and I'd be pushing you into the counter, Sean." Viggo's gaze flicks to Sean, and then back at his improvised paper-plate palette. He goes with red this time. "So stop asking."
Sean closes his eyes. He hisses as the brush comes into contact with his thigh again. Every touch is a teasing caress on skin that badly wants more.
"...please..."
"No."
+++++
18. Blade
Things are better. Sean is back, home, and Viggo breathes a sigh of contented satisfaction, knowing he's here to stay.
Still, after having his heart broken, Viggo remains just slightly uneasy about Sean's presence. He's here, he's here to stay, but Viggo needs more than just Sean's physical presence. He needs some kind of reassurance. Something solid. Something he can taste.
He comes up behind Sean while Sean is standing at the bathroom sink, shaving. Sean's eyes meet Viggo's, and Sean smiles at first. Then his eyes hold Viggo's, and his gaze turns curious.
Viggo's eyes are on Sean's blade.
+++++
19. Veins
"What exactly is it you're asking?" Sean asks, hand over Viggo's. He's frowning, just a bit, and his eyes are clouded with confusion.
"I'm asking if you've ever bled for one of your lovers," Viggo says, very quietly. "If you'd like to."
"God, Viggo-- do you mean something metaphorical, in the 'I'd die for you' vein, or...?"
"It's veins, yes, that I'm talking about, but no, I'm not being metaphorical about it." Viggo loosens his hand from Sean's grip and traces his fingertips up Sean's arm. "I'm asking if you'd bleed for me."
"I don't understand."
"I want to cut you."
+++++
20. Cut Me
I want to cut you.
Sean is startled.
Shaken.
Intrigued.
Interested.
Aroused.
Viggo's been holding something back, ever since Sean came home. Sean doesn't know what it is, but there's something missing. Something Sean probably wouldn't even have noticed, before, but now... now, he wants it. Needs it.
Whatever it is.
He pulls a red marker out of a desk drawer and scribbles two words on a sheet of paper. Goes to the table next to the telephone, takes a knife-replica letter opener, slams it through the paper and into the surface of the table. Message left, unmistakably.
Cut me.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-07-15 03:39 pm (UTC)Viggo's eyes are on Sean's blade.
I don't often go in for cutting, but you've made it unbearably sexy. Lovely.
no subject
Date: 2003-07-16 08:16 am (UTC)I'm hoping it goes well. :) Thanks for reading. :)
no subject
Date: 2003-07-15 03:48 pm (UTC)This arc is terrific! Love it. //worships
And... knifeplay! *meeps* Guh. Can't wait to read how this one unfolds.
Have about 65% of a Sean/Vig knifeplay fic sitting on my hard drive. Never in the right mood to finish it. *sigh* Or do the necessary research into the steelworking processes made famous in Sheffield. *sighs again*
no subject
Date: 2003-07-16 08:18 am (UTC)As for the Est, given another few days I'll have another list of links to post on RugbyTackle. :) Many of them will be conversational stuff, oddly. But there's smut, too.
...aaa, 65% of Sean/Vig knifeplay... steelworking... Sheffield? Aaaa...
no subject
Date: 2003-07-16 01:14 pm (UTC)Yay! If it wasn't for your x-posting, I'd never be able to keep up / wade through all the smut over at JF to find these gold nuggets. :-)
...aaa, 65% of Sean/Vig knifeplay
Yeah. *sigh* Doubt it'll ever get finished, though. Sean's quite the expert at wielding a blade, but Viggo doesn't feel like talking at all so I have no idea what he's going through. It's hopeless.
no subject
Date: 2003-07-15 04:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-16 08:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-16 05:37 am (UTC)I find myself wondering the same thing! I just loved this. All of this. And I am impatiently awaiting number 21!
no subject
Date: 2003-07-16 08:19 am (UTC)Glad you're enjoying them so much! :)