FIC: Gloves 1/2 (SB/VM, R)
Nov. 12th, 2003 02:38 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
jenmstar.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rugbytackleTitle: Gloves 1/2
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jenmstar
E-mail: jenstar2421@yahoo.com
Pairing: SB/VM
Rating: R (to be safe)
Archive:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rugbytackle sons_of_gondor fellow_shippers bean_squee
Disclaimer: This is all fiction.
Thanks: Thanks to my wonderful betamoldava
Notes: For everyone who answered my question posted in Rugbytackle
Sean sat at his make-up counter staring out at the array of items on front of him. Make-up, of course, his keys, the loose change from his pockets, his cell phone, photos of his girls, and other odds and ends collected over the past few weeks. One item in particular caught his eye. It was a glove. But it wasn’t one of his. His were lying off to the side. They were made of soft, back leather, so new that the leather smell still clung heavily to them.
But this particular glove was different. It looked like it might have been black at one point, but it was so worn that it had begun to look brownish-grey. Harsh creases cut grooves across the glove from where the hand inside had opened and closed countless times. The leather of this glove was soft too, but in such a different way. It wasn’t made from soft leather. No. It had been made from stiff, tough leather, softened only by constant use in the roughest of environments. And there were no fingertips.
Sean let his own fingers ghost over the glove before he reached to grab his own gloves, cramming his hands into them as he dashed off to the set.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Sean returned to his trailer hours later, tired and exhausted from the long day of shooting. He quickly changed out of his costume, now covered in dirt, and into some cleaner clothes. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, wishing he hadn’t opened his mouth quite so much while they were dumping all that dirt on him.
On his way out the door he paused to pick up that worn out glove with no fingertips and shove it into his front pocket.
Aragorn’s glove. Viggo’s glove. Both...
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Viggo had worn Aragorn’s gloves the first time he made love to Sean. They had been spending the night in the woods, near where they were filming. It had been a clear night, no need for a tent. Just sleeping bags and blankets had been spread out to cushion them from whatever twigs and rocks happened to be littering the ground. Happy to be rid of his cumbersome costume, Sean had changed into his oldest, most broken in jeans and a thread bare t-shirt with a dark green and blue flannel shirt thrown over to protect him from the slight chill in the wind. Viggo, on the other hand, had retained as much of his costume as wardrobe would relinquish, in this case, his trusty sword, his belt, his coat, and his gloves. These were worn along with simple jeans and a t-shirt.
They had spent the evening talking and laughing. Late in the evening they had eaten sandwiches they had picked up from catering, along with apples and soda. As the sun set, Sean had heated some water in a pot over the fire and had made tea for himself and Viggo. They had drunk it in silence until the stars began to appear.
As the fire had begun to slowly turn into embers, exhaustion had begun to creep upon them. Sean had extinguished the last of the embers while Viggo took care removing his coat and his belt, leaving his sword next to the sleeping area. Sean had shed his flannel shirt before he had joined Viggo under the blankets, on top of the sleeping bags. They had shifted around to get comfortable. They had ended up with Sean on his back, his arm around Viggo, who had lain on his side, his head tucked up on Sean’s shoulder.
“You comfortable?” Sean had asked. He had been a bit surprised to find Viggo settling in so close. Usually they only had that kind of physical contact if they had been drinking. More for the excuse it provided, than anything else.
“Very,” Viggo had replied, shifting slightly, and Sean had been able to feel the stubble on Viggo’s chin scratching against him through his t-shirt as Viggo moved even closer. “You?”
Sean had paused for a moment. “Yeah, I am,” he had answered firmly, with a soft squeeze to Viggo’s shoulder.
Once again, Viggo has shifted against Sean, tilting his head up so he had been able to kiss Sean on his neck. “How about now?” he had asked, both concerned and hopeful.
Sean’s breath had caught in his throat. He had wondered where the change had come from. Sure, they had spent nights in the same bed, but it had never been anything sexual. At least not until that moment.
“Sean?” Viggo had asked again, “Is this ok?”
Sean had turned his head to look down at Viggo, who he had found looking up at him. “I…” he had started. “I’m not sure.”
“Ok,” Viggo had said resolutely, inching away from Sean.
“No,” Sean had tried again. “You don’t have to move. That’s ok. It’s just…”
“This kiss wasn’t,” Viggo had finished for him.
“I don’t know,” Sean had admitted, flustered.
“Ok,” Viggo had replied again, seemly ready end the conversation.
“Why did you do it?” Sean had asked, hoping to try to sort everything out.
“You don’t know?” Viggo had looked at him puzzled.
“No,” Sean had answered confused.
Sean had felt Viggo’s rib cage expand as he drew in a large breath. It had rushed out it a long sigh, ghosting over Sean’s shoulder. “Because I love you.”
Sean had been stunned. In love with him? The idea had never occurred to him. Friends, sure. Close friends even. But he had been shocked by Viggo’s admission.
“Since when?” he had asked, wondering how he had missed something this important.
Viggo had shrugged in the darkness. “I don’t know exactly,” he had finally admitted. “It wasn’t something where I just woke up one morning and I loved you. It kind of built up over time. I’m sorry if I upset you.”
“No, no,” Sean had hurriedly interrupted. “You didn’t upset me, you just surprised me, that’s all. I hadn’t really thought about it. You know….”
“Yeah,” Viggo had replied. “So what do you…” he had trailed off, not knowing what to say.
Sean had looked down at Viggo, making out the features of his face racked with caring, concern, frustration, fear, and above all love. “Well, let’s see how it goes,” he had finally said before he had leaned his head down to kiss Viggo’s temple.
Viggo had immediately reached a hand up to pull Sean’s mouth down to his. He had kissed Sean fully, totally, as if he had wanted to show Sean what he had been so afraid to tell him. They had finally pulled apart, breathless, panting, hands still roaming the other one’s body.
Sean’s hands had found their way under Viggo’s t-shirt, running lightly over the fine hair covering well defined muscle. He had slid his hands up Viggo’s back, taking the shirt off.
Viggo had reciprocated, removing Sean’s shirt and running his hands over Sean’s chest and stomach. Sean had shivered, the feel of the cool leather gloves contrasting with the warmth of Viggo’s fingers had exciting him rather quickly. He had reached down to undo Viggo’s pants as Viggo did the same to him.
Naked, they had lain there together for a few moments, reveling in the feel of being so close to the other. Slowly their hands began to wander with more confidence over each other’s bodies.
Finally Viggo had stopped kissing long enough to ask Sean, “What do you want?”
Sean had been slient for several moment, feeling Viggo’s heart racing in time with his own. He had known that whatever he said next would be very important. He had also known that Viggo was giving him a way out if he wanted to take it.
“You,” Sean had finally replied. “In me.”
Viggo had swallowed, unable to speak. He had squirmed away from Sean for a moment to grab his backpack. He had dug around inside until he came up with lube and a condom. “You sure?” he had asked.
“Yes,” Sean had answered.
Viggo had started to remove his glove but Sean reached a hand up to stop him.
“Please, leave them on,” he had requested, blushing a bit.
“Ok,” Viggo had replied….
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Sean smiled at the memory as he arrived home. He climbed out of his car and walked into his house. In his bedroom, he removed the contents from his pockets. Keys change, and one much worn glove went on his dresser. His phone he kept in hand, taking no time to dial the first number in the phone’s speed dial.
“’Lo, Viggo…. Yeah, just got home for the day… Covered in dirt. And you?.... That’s good…. Are you packed?... Yeah, I’ll be here when you arrive…. Can’t wait… Love you too…”
Author:
jenmstar E-mail: jenstar2421@yahoo.com
Pairing: SB/VM
Rating: R (to be safe)
Archive:
rugbytackle sons_of_gondor fellow_shippers bean_squeeDisclaimer: This is all fiction.
Thanks: Thanks to my wonderful beta
moldavaNotes: For everyone who answered my question posted in Rugbytackle
Sean sat at his make-up counter staring out at the array of items on front of him. Make-up, of course, his keys, the loose change from his pockets, his cell phone, photos of his girls, and other odds and ends collected over the past few weeks. One item in particular caught his eye. It was a glove. But it wasn’t one of his. His were lying off to the side. They were made of soft, back leather, so new that the leather smell still clung heavily to them.
But this particular glove was different. It looked like it might have been black at one point, but it was so worn that it had begun to look brownish-grey. Harsh creases cut grooves across the glove from where the hand inside had opened and closed countless times. The leather of this glove was soft too, but in such a different way. It wasn’t made from soft leather. No. It had been made from stiff, tough leather, softened only by constant use in the roughest of environments. And there were no fingertips.
Sean let his own fingers ghost over the glove before he reached to grab his own gloves, cramming his hands into them as he dashed off to the set.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Sean returned to his trailer hours later, tired and exhausted from the long day of shooting. He quickly changed out of his costume, now covered in dirt, and into some cleaner clothes. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, wishing he hadn’t opened his mouth quite so much while they were dumping all that dirt on him.
On his way out the door he paused to pick up that worn out glove with no fingertips and shove it into his front pocket.
Aragorn’s glove. Viggo’s glove. Both...
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Viggo had worn Aragorn’s gloves the first time he made love to Sean. They had been spending the night in the woods, near where they were filming. It had been a clear night, no need for a tent. Just sleeping bags and blankets had been spread out to cushion them from whatever twigs and rocks happened to be littering the ground. Happy to be rid of his cumbersome costume, Sean had changed into his oldest, most broken in jeans and a thread bare t-shirt with a dark green and blue flannel shirt thrown over to protect him from the slight chill in the wind. Viggo, on the other hand, had retained as much of his costume as wardrobe would relinquish, in this case, his trusty sword, his belt, his coat, and his gloves. These were worn along with simple jeans and a t-shirt.
They had spent the evening talking and laughing. Late in the evening they had eaten sandwiches they had picked up from catering, along with apples and soda. As the sun set, Sean had heated some water in a pot over the fire and had made tea for himself and Viggo. They had drunk it in silence until the stars began to appear.
As the fire had begun to slowly turn into embers, exhaustion had begun to creep upon them. Sean had extinguished the last of the embers while Viggo took care removing his coat and his belt, leaving his sword next to the sleeping area. Sean had shed his flannel shirt before he had joined Viggo under the blankets, on top of the sleeping bags. They had shifted around to get comfortable. They had ended up with Sean on his back, his arm around Viggo, who had lain on his side, his head tucked up on Sean’s shoulder.
“You comfortable?” Sean had asked. He had been a bit surprised to find Viggo settling in so close. Usually they only had that kind of physical contact if they had been drinking. More for the excuse it provided, than anything else.
“Very,” Viggo had replied, shifting slightly, and Sean had been able to feel the stubble on Viggo’s chin scratching against him through his t-shirt as Viggo moved even closer. “You?”
Sean had paused for a moment. “Yeah, I am,” he had answered firmly, with a soft squeeze to Viggo’s shoulder.
Once again, Viggo has shifted against Sean, tilting his head up so he had been able to kiss Sean on his neck. “How about now?” he had asked, both concerned and hopeful.
Sean’s breath had caught in his throat. He had wondered where the change had come from. Sure, they had spent nights in the same bed, but it had never been anything sexual. At least not until that moment.
“Sean?” Viggo had asked again, “Is this ok?”
Sean had turned his head to look down at Viggo, who he had found looking up at him. “I…” he had started. “I’m not sure.”
“Ok,” Viggo had said resolutely, inching away from Sean.
“No,” Sean had tried again. “You don’t have to move. That’s ok. It’s just…”
“This kiss wasn’t,” Viggo had finished for him.
“I don’t know,” Sean had admitted, flustered.
“Ok,” Viggo had replied again, seemly ready end the conversation.
“Why did you do it?” Sean had asked, hoping to try to sort everything out.
“You don’t know?” Viggo had looked at him puzzled.
“No,” Sean had answered confused.
Sean had felt Viggo’s rib cage expand as he drew in a large breath. It had rushed out it a long sigh, ghosting over Sean’s shoulder. “Because I love you.”
Sean had been stunned. In love with him? The idea had never occurred to him. Friends, sure. Close friends even. But he had been shocked by Viggo’s admission.
“Since when?” he had asked, wondering how he had missed something this important.
Viggo had shrugged in the darkness. “I don’t know exactly,” he had finally admitted. “It wasn’t something where I just woke up one morning and I loved you. It kind of built up over time. I’m sorry if I upset you.”
“No, no,” Sean had hurriedly interrupted. “You didn’t upset me, you just surprised me, that’s all. I hadn’t really thought about it. You know….”
“Yeah,” Viggo had replied. “So what do you…” he had trailed off, not knowing what to say.
Sean had looked down at Viggo, making out the features of his face racked with caring, concern, frustration, fear, and above all love. “Well, let’s see how it goes,” he had finally said before he had leaned his head down to kiss Viggo’s temple.
Viggo had immediately reached a hand up to pull Sean’s mouth down to his. He had kissed Sean fully, totally, as if he had wanted to show Sean what he had been so afraid to tell him. They had finally pulled apart, breathless, panting, hands still roaming the other one’s body.
Sean’s hands had found their way under Viggo’s t-shirt, running lightly over the fine hair covering well defined muscle. He had slid his hands up Viggo’s back, taking the shirt off.
Viggo had reciprocated, removing Sean’s shirt and running his hands over Sean’s chest and stomach. Sean had shivered, the feel of the cool leather gloves contrasting with the warmth of Viggo’s fingers had exciting him rather quickly. He had reached down to undo Viggo’s pants as Viggo did the same to him.
Naked, they had lain there together for a few moments, reveling in the feel of being so close to the other. Slowly their hands began to wander with more confidence over each other’s bodies.
Finally Viggo had stopped kissing long enough to ask Sean, “What do you want?”
Sean had been slient for several moment, feeling Viggo’s heart racing in time with his own. He had known that whatever he said next would be very important. He had also known that Viggo was giving him a way out if he wanted to take it.
“You,” Sean had finally replied. “In me.”
Viggo had swallowed, unable to speak. He had squirmed away from Sean for a moment to grab his backpack. He had dug around inside until he came up with lube and a condom. “You sure?” he had asked.
“Yes,” Sean had answered.
Viggo had started to remove his glove but Sean reached a hand up to stop him.
“Please, leave them on,” he had requested, blushing a bit.
“Ok,” Viggo had replied….
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Sean smiled at the memory as he arrived home. He climbed out of his car and walked into his house. In his bedroom, he removed the contents from his pockets. Keys change, and one much worn glove went on his dresser. His phone he kept in hand, taking no time to dial the first number in the phone’s speed dial.
“’Lo, Viggo…. Yeah, just got home for the day… Covered in dirt. And you?.... That’s good…. Are you packed?... Yeah, I’ll be here when you arrive…. Can’t wait… Love you too…”
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no subject
Date: 2003-11-15 04:11 am (UTC)Very nice! I note, with pleasure, that this is one out of two. Where's two?