TITLE: The Orange Grove (4/32): Home
AUTHOR: Cinzia and Gloria
Full headers here
They talked comfortably for the first hour of the journey, Viggo updating him about the movie, and the town of Mátala, and telling him about the house they'd share. Sean couldn't believe how worried Viggo'd been about that, as if it were the first time they shared quarters... He guessed he hadn't been the only one who'd worried about their friendship, after all, and the thought was awkward, in a way, yet comforting. When Viggo said, "I need to call Helena now," Sean just nodded and closed his eyes, leaning back against the headrest.
He must have fallen asleep a few moments after that, because when he opened his eyes again the light had changed, it was softer, richer; and Viggo, beside him, was chanting softly to some tune Sean had never heard, maybe some local song. He was also pretty sure that Viggo was making up the words, but he let that pass: memories came back to him of the two of them driving through the South Island, of himself bugging Viggo with raucous Blades hymns and Queen anthems, and Viggo singing -- screaming, possibly -- funky country songs at the top of his voice to drown out Sean's. And though the landscape outside was now so different, it looked new and enchanted, just as New Zealand had been.
And this time, he was the one coming late to the set -- and this time, he wouldn't leave before it was all over, he wouldn't leave his friends behind.
The landscape kept changing around them: they had been following a somewhat narrow mountain road for the last few miles, but now they entered a village.
"Ya su*, Mátala," Viggo hummed softly, and pointed out the colourful, lovely houses -- Sean could see the sea blinking in and out of sight behind them -- the small harbour, the square with men sitting outside a taverna, talking and laughing in loud voices. It looked a quiet, welcoming place, a little bigger than a village, a little smaller than a proper town, and Sean said so. He could smell sea, and fish cooking, and it reminded him of his childhood, a summer holiday they'd spent in a little seaside village in Spain. Viggo looked pleased with this assessment, and kept driving south.
A long way beyond the last group of scattered houses they had passed, Viggo parked the car before a small villa at the foot of a low hill, brown and green with olive trees as far as Sean could see. The villa's white walls were almost gleaming against the darkening blue sky; it had large windows and a flat rooftop -- a terrace, perhaps -- and it looked like a picture postcard.
Viggo was telling him about renting it from a businessman who lived in Athens and at times used the place as a summer home, but Sean was too busy looking at the light blue tiles of the floors and the rich colours of the furniture inside to really pay him attention.
"You like it?" Viggo asked him at last. They were in the room that was to be Sean's, and from the window he could see, just beyond the green curve of the hill, the sea glittering in the last sunlight.
"You daft bugger," he laughed, throwing his bag down on the bed. "You were worrying about me not liking... this?" and he gestured both at the room and the vista, pleased to see the sheepish smile on Viggo's lips change into a more satisfied grin -- almost smug, in fact.
"There's something else that you need to see," Viggo said then, and Sean followed him back downstairs, into the main room, to a set of French doors in the farthest wall.
The doors opened onto a low white terrace, with climbing ivy and potted palm trees lined against the low stone walls; there were two deck chairs and a small table in the south corner and Sean walked over, leaning to look down the parapet into an orchard: there were olive trees all over the hill, but here he could see only orange trees, branches heavy with brightly-coloured fruit that had yet to grow ripe. The air smelled sweet, the colours were amazing.
Viggo was walking down the white steps that led from the terrace to the orange grove, and Sean went with him, his eyes on the intense blue of the sea that he could glimpse behind the gentle slope of the hill. Viggo led him through the trees to a low wooden gate, painted as white as the house: beyond that there was a rough path among the trees, rounding the curve of the hill, and they followed it until they came to the place Viggo had meant to show him.
It was a small, narrow beach enclosed left and right by tall rocks, a private place with fine white sand and a sea so blue Sean hadn't thought such a colour could exist in this hemisphere. Not even in his memories of Malta he could find such a deep, brilliant blue. Seagulls cried softly in the dusk, and behind him Viggo said, his voice quiet, content, "Private beach."
Sean turned to look at him. The sea breeze ruffled Viggo's hair, longer than his own, and Sean couldn't help but laugh again, feeling neither tired nor worried any more. "All ours?" he asked, opening his arms wide to indicate the whole place. The wind caressed him, the air salty and crisp.
Viggo's eyes looked as blue as the sea, and he was grinning back. For the first time since they'd met at the airport Sean thought he was seeing the real Viggo, happy and confident... at home, right here, surrounded by beauty.
"Welcome home," Viggo just said, an amused look in his eyes that Sean well remembered -- and before Sean could react Viggo, with a sudden, happy cry, had tackled him down in the sand.
TBC
*Ya su = hello
AUTHOR: Cinzia and Gloria
Full headers here
They talked comfortably for the first hour of the journey, Viggo updating him about the movie, and the town of Mátala, and telling him about the house they'd share. Sean couldn't believe how worried Viggo'd been about that, as if it were the first time they shared quarters... He guessed he hadn't been the only one who'd worried about their friendship, after all, and the thought was awkward, in a way, yet comforting. When Viggo said, "I need to call Helena now," Sean just nodded and closed his eyes, leaning back against the headrest.
He must have fallen asleep a few moments after that, because when he opened his eyes again the light had changed, it was softer, richer; and Viggo, beside him, was chanting softly to some tune Sean had never heard, maybe some local song. He was also pretty sure that Viggo was making up the words, but he let that pass: memories came back to him of the two of them driving through the South Island, of himself bugging Viggo with raucous Blades hymns and Queen anthems, and Viggo singing -- screaming, possibly -- funky country songs at the top of his voice to drown out Sean's. And though the landscape outside was now so different, it looked new and enchanted, just as New Zealand had been.
And this time, he was the one coming late to the set -- and this time, he wouldn't leave before it was all over, he wouldn't leave his friends behind.
The landscape kept changing around them: they had been following a somewhat narrow mountain road for the last few miles, but now they entered a village.
"Ya su*, Mátala," Viggo hummed softly, and pointed out the colourful, lovely houses -- Sean could see the sea blinking in and out of sight behind them -- the small harbour, the square with men sitting outside a taverna, talking and laughing in loud voices. It looked a quiet, welcoming place, a little bigger than a village, a little smaller than a proper town, and Sean said so. He could smell sea, and fish cooking, and it reminded him of his childhood, a summer holiday they'd spent in a little seaside village in Spain. Viggo looked pleased with this assessment, and kept driving south.
A long way beyond the last group of scattered houses they had passed, Viggo parked the car before a small villa at the foot of a low hill, brown and green with olive trees as far as Sean could see. The villa's white walls were almost gleaming against the darkening blue sky; it had large windows and a flat rooftop -- a terrace, perhaps -- and it looked like a picture postcard.
Viggo was telling him about renting it from a businessman who lived in Athens and at times used the place as a summer home, but Sean was too busy looking at the light blue tiles of the floors and the rich colours of the furniture inside to really pay him attention.
"You like it?" Viggo asked him at last. They were in the room that was to be Sean's, and from the window he could see, just beyond the green curve of the hill, the sea glittering in the last sunlight.
"You daft bugger," he laughed, throwing his bag down on the bed. "You were worrying about me not liking... this?" and he gestured both at the room and the vista, pleased to see the sheepish smile on Viggo's lips change into a more satisfied grin -- almost smug, in fact.
"There's something else that you need to see," Viggo said then, and Sean followed him back downstairs, into the main room, to a set of French doors in the farthest wall.
The doors opened onto a low white terrace, with climbing ivy and potted palm trees lined against the low stone walls; there were two deck chairs and a small table in the south corner and Sean walked over, leaning to look down the parapet into an orchard: there were olive trees all over the hill, but here he could see only orange trees, branches heavy with brightly-coloured fruit that had yet to grow ripe. The air smelled sweet, the colours were amazing.
Viggo was walking down the white steps that led from the terrace to the orange grove, and Sean went with him, his eyes on the intense blue of the sea that he could glimpse behind the gentle slope of the hill. Viggo led him through the trees to a low wooden gate, painted as white as the house: beyond that there was a rough path among the trees, rounding the curve of the hill, and they followed it until they came to the place Viggo had meant to show him.
It was a small, narrow beach enclosed left and right by tall rocks, a private place with fine white sand and a sea so blue Sean hadn't thought such a colour could exist in this hemisphere. Not even in his memories of Malta he could find such a deep, brilliant blue. Seagulls cried softly in the dusk, and behind him Viggo said, his voice quiet, content, "Private beach."
Sean turned to look at him. The sea breeze ruffled Viggo's hair, longer than his own, and Sean couldn't help but laugh again, feeling neither tired nor worried any more. "All ours?" he asked, opening his arms wide to indicate the whole place. The wind caressed him, the air salty and crisp.
Viggo's eyes looked as blue as the sea, and he was grinning back. For the first time since they'd met at the airport Sean thought he was seeing the real Viggo, happy and confident... at home, right here, surrounded by beauty.
"Welcome home," Viggo just said, an amused look in his eyes that Sean well remembered -- and before Sean could react Viggo, with a sudden, happy cry, had tackled him down in the sand.
TBC
*Ya su = hello
no subject
Date: 2003-09-24 12:57 pm (UTC)Viggo sporting a boner, hmm?
no subject
Date: 2003-09-24 02:59 pm (UTC)and having his wicked way with himfor the sake of it.Ahem. O:)
no subject
Date: 2003-09-24 02:33 pm (UTC)Lanna! Here I was, all swept up in the romance and the beauty, and she asks if Vig's sporting a boner!!! ROFL!!!!
Well, is he?
Anyhow, beautiful. I need the address so I can stay there too :)
no subject
Date: 2003-09-24 03:02 pm (UTC)I swear, there's no such thing as romance any more... *shakes head sadly*
Anyhow, beautiful. I need the address so I can stay there too :)
Hee! If you find out, do share. It wouldn't be half bad! ;)
PS: Thanks for liking! :)
no subject
Date: 2003-09-24 04:05 pm (UTC)*takes a bow*
Someone's got to be the evil snarky one around here. ;)
no subject
Date: 2003-09-24 04:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-24 06:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-25 10:27 am (UTC)cockring...You can come (no pun... I think) and claim it anytime. ;)
no subject
Date: 2003-09-25 07:20 pm (UTC)cockring...Sorry to interrupt, but LOLOLOLOLOL...OMG...this was just TOO funny...eeek! LOLOL....
Okay, I'll go 'way now.... :P
no subject
Date: 2003-09-27 04:09 pm (UTC)...not NEARLY enough!</Aragorn voice>
;)
no subject
Date: 2003-10-01 05:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-24 03:08 pm (UTC)Anyway, this was really good. I loved the ending. Could so see it.
of himself bugging Viggo with raucous Blades hymns and Queen anthems, and Viggo singing -- screaming, possibly -- funky country songs at the top of his voice to drown out Sean's
I could so see that. Sounds like it would be right on target with them. (Made me giggle too!)
I just love this and am looking forward to more.
no subject
Date: 2003-09-24 04:32 pm (UTC)You're all in the gutter, I swear. *loves* *eg*
Thanks for the lovely feedback, we're happy you're liking it so far! Part 5 will be posted on Friday. :)
no subject
Date: 2003-09-24 04:53 pm (UTC)Beautiful sight, driving, singing...and "Private beach" !! How romantic and sweet it must be!
I can't wait for the next post *g*
no subject
Date: 2003-09-25 10:17 am (UTC)Heh! I think the word is 'sappy'. ;)
*hugs* Thanks so much for the wonderful comment, we're very glad you're enjoying it! Next post tomorrow (Friday) :)
no subject
Date: 2003-09-24 09:27 pm (UTC)*slaps self on wrist*
You already know I love this - but just for the record:
I love this.
And the oranges have yet to ripen *S*
no subject
Date: 2003-09-25 10:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-24 09:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-25 10:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-25 04:52 pm (UTC)I have been chuckling over this for 2 days now...:
He was also pretty sure that Viggo was making up the words, but he let that pass: memories came back to him of the two of them driving through the South Island, of himself bugging Viggo with raucous Blades hymns and Queen anthems, and Viggo singing -- screaming, possibly -- funky country songs at the top of his voice to drown out Sean's.
I've heard some of those funky country songs..lol..and oh boy, that must have been a riot..lol. And I love the part about Vig making up the words..heehee...
I'm just so loving their friendship and the way they are together, and I love the surroundings, and ohhh, Viggo's eyes as blue as the sea... *romantic sigh*
And Vig tackling Sean is yummy and sweet, boner or no, lol...
no subject
Date: 2003-09-25 06:30 pm (UTC)Viggo singing? That must've been pretty painful, if you ask me. *eg* Luckily (though maybe not for Sean) I think they were alone at the time. ;)
I'm just so loving their friendship and the way they are together, and I love the surroundings, and ohhh, Viggo's eyes as blue as the sea... *romantic sigh*
Whee, another romantic soul, at last! *hugs*
And Vig tackling Sean is yummy and sweet, boner or no, lol...
Glad to hear you say that. Who knows, maybe Viggo had planned a bit of rugbytackling *cough* since the moment he saw Sean at the airport... *speculates wildly*
Thank you for commenting, it means a lot!
no subject
Date: 2003-09-25 07:15 pm (UTC)LOLOL...I take it you've heard him, too, then? God, I love him, but I just couldn't help but laugh. Sorta reminds me of David Hasslehoff singing...all the proper gestures and depth of feeling for the music are there, they just seem blissfully unaware of their lack of real talent...lol.
Whee, another romantic soul, at last! *hugs*
Yes, hopeless romantic, schmoopy me!! At your service! It was such a beautiful moment, too. Made me all warm inside. :P
maybe Viggo had planned a bit of rugbytackling *cough* since the moment he saw Sean at the airport... *speculates wildly*
Hmmm...speculating wildly about your own story...why am I suspicious of your sincerity?? *G*
*waits, salivating, for more of the boys*
no subject
Date: 2003-09-27 04:07 pm (UTC)Oh dear! I had
removed all memoriesforgotten everything about that. *shudders* Anyway, I have the sneaking suspicion that Viggo sings the way he does on purpose... To be, y' know, more 'artistic'. Hm. Scary, if I actually think about it. ;)Hmmm...speculating wildly about your own story...why am I suspicious of your sincerity?? *G*
Heh. My (and Gloria's, at that ;) brain is a strange place. Beware! *eg*
*hugs puppy* :D
no subject
Date: 2003-10-01 05:30 am (UTC)Heeee...yes, very scary, especially since I had been thinking that myself. He is a strange one. Makes me love him all the more, though! :P
no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 11:07 pm (UTC)Of all the fab bits, I love this one best:
And this time, he was the one coming late to the set -- and this time, he wouldn't leave before it was all over, he wouldn't leave his friends behind.
Awww.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-12 10:52 am (UTC)Thank you! It's fantastic to know that the character development is coming along fine! :)
And I adore the rugbytackle at the end. It *was* a rugbytackle, wasn't it? ;)
Eee! Of course it was. With lots and lots of rolling around, too. Ahem. ;)
Thank you again for commenting! *squishes*
no subject
Date: 2004-10-19 08:55 am (UTC)