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rugbytackleTITLE: The Orange Grove (30/32): Awakening
AUTHOR: Cinzia and Gloria
Full headers here
In the dim light of the early morning, Viggo looked very young. Sean had been watching him for a few minutes now, since the light had woken him up. Viggo was sleeping on his back, hair tousled, his right arm pressed alongside Sean, who'd come awake with his head on Viggo's shoulder and had spent the last minutes looking inside himself for the difference that he knew should be there -- daylight always made things different, in his experience. He'd come up blank.
He and Viggo, in bed together. He had... he had fucked Viggo. Viggo.
Dear God.
He'd wanted it so much -- he still wanted it. He must be fucking mad.
Madness felt so good.
He touched the tattoo on Viggo's right arm, the elvish Nine that mirrored his own, its black whorls not yet faded with time. He traced the graceful lines with his thumb, reverently: the best thing that had ever happened in his life -- after his girls -- was forever etched on their skins. He leaned down, his lips following the path of his finger on Viggo's skin: it was slightly sweaty and salty, when he touched his tongue to it. His gaze drifted up, and found Viggo watching him.
Viggo had been dreaming, slowly rising through the dream to wakefulness. In his dream he'd been in the orange grove, with a deep blue sky above him -- but he'd known that that was wrong, because oranges only ripened at night.
In the dream, though, something vital had changed. It was daylight, and there he was, with sunlight slanting down through the branches. There was someone watching him, someone steadying him as he reached up to pluck a single perfect orange from a high branch. He could feel everything very intensely, as if he were a snake that had sloughed its old skin: the pores of the orange, the waxiness of the leaves, the dew pooling around the stem. The orange dropped into his hand as soon as he touched it, as though his touch had made it ripe and ready to be picked.
And then the ground was solid under the soles of his feet again, and there was the most delicious feeling--
--he was standing in the orange grove, rising up towards wakefulness, and the person next to him was Sean. He was coming awake, in bed, next to Sean. He smiled, in the dream, ready to let go of the sunlight, the grove, the orange in his hand. Ready to home in on the sensation of Sean's mouth. Sean kissing, licking... Viggo thought that he'd like to be woken this way every morning, woken by that clever mouth teasing and tracing his tattoo, kissing and licking, treating it like a magic charm that would summon him back from sleep.
And there he was, Sean, smiling up at him, looking so... so open, so happy, that Viggo wanted to capture the moment for ever.
He lifted his free hand, covered Sean's own tattoo with his palm. "Don't stop," he murmured, voice low, still hoarse with sleep.
So Sean didn't. He kept licking, kissing, nibbling lightly, taking the skin between his teeth and biting gently, revelling in the quickening of Viggo's breath.
This, Sean thought, is as it should be: me, and him. Remembering where everything started.
Moving on.
Viggo remembered being in the orange grove -- in that dream -- with Sean. Picking an orange. He must give the orange to Sean... Viggo smiled to himself, because the orange was still in the dream. But he was awake, now, and he remembered that he'd dreamt of oranges before.
He didn't think he'd ever succeeded in picking one until now. Watching Sean kissing and caressing his tattoo, almost sinking into the feeling, he wanted to watch Sean eating an orange... wanted to watch Sean. He stroked the soft skin under his hand, and Sean moaned and swept his tongue across the tattoo once more.
Sean kissed the reddened, wet skin one final time -- a gentle, loving kiss -- then moved up, brushing his lips against Viggo's skin until he reached his jaw, his mouth; and he felt Viggo's hand behind his neck, keeping him close. This, too, should've felt strange -- this looking each other in the eyes, as if seeing each other for the first time -- and it wasn't. Sean leaned closer, letting his lips part.
Watching Sean had made Viggo remember how he tasted. And then he wasn't sure that he'd remembered right, so he had to pull Sean up into a kiss, the first of the day, the first of many. Kissing Sean was wonderful, and Viggo felt as though he'd been starved, all the time he'd spent with Sean when they hadn't been kissing.
There was no frenzy in this kiss, no roughness, no hurry: they kissed with their eyes open, in full daylight for the first time; Viggo splayed his fingers in Sean's hair, feeling the vertebrae in Sean's neck against his palm, and pulled him closer. So good to look into his friend's eyes like this, close enough that nothing was hidden, close enough to see Sean's happiness like a light inside. It was a slow, slow kiss that said they had all the time in the world to figure things out.
The shoot would be over in just a few more weeks.
Sean broke the kiss first, aware both of his hard-on pressing against the mattress, and of Viggo's, so hot against his side. He rested his forehead against Viggo's, and reached down to take him in his hand.
"Want you," he said, low but clear. He knew that Viggo would understand him.
Viggo's eyes widened, the pupils so dilated Sean could see himself in their black depths; he felt Viggo's cock harden and thicken in his hand, and he stroked it lightly, the small whimper escaping Viggo's lips making him dizzy. He was nervous -- fuck, he was. But he wanted it.
Sean's hand curled, wonderfully familiar, around Viggo's cock. And suddenly it all came back to Viggo: the weight of that promise he'd made -- to Sean, to himself. His hands tightened on Sean's neck, at once aroused and nervous as hell at the thought of taking Sean, moaning as Sean's hand worked magic on him. He wanted Sean so much, too much: he couldn't trust himself to set the pace.
He let Sean go. His hands lifted to rest on Sean's shoulders, moving him away a little so that they could look each other fully in the eye. "Sean," Viggo started, and Sean saw him swallow, hard, searching for words.
"You... It doesn't need to happen just now," Viggo said. "I know what you--" Another swallow. He broke off, groaning. Sean's hand on his cock, not moving now, was making him dizzy with desire, and he couldn't find the right words.
"I want... I want to be good for you. You need to be ready, you..." Viggo's eyes were dark while they searched Sean's. "I promised you," Viggo finally said, as if he were unsure how to express what he meant. He gestured helplessly with one hand, then he put it back on Sean's shoulder, his fingers clenching and relaxing against Sean's skin. He didn't add anything else, as though words eluded him -- something Sean had never witnessed before.
Suddenly, looking at him this close, his hand still around Viggo's cock, Viggo lying there, looking miserable... Sean saw how hard this was on Viggo, too. How his trying to do what he thought best for Sean was leaving him open. Vulnerable. Sean's chest tightened. He knew the feeling, he remembered all too well; and for the first time... for the first time he thought, I'm ready to trust myself with this. I am. He deserves nothing less.
And it was so amazing how simple, how easy that suddenly was.
"Viggo." He lifted Viggo's hand from where it lay on his shoulder, turned it, and placed a kiss right into its palm. "I trust you." He pictured that hand, golden-looking, holding him close while Viggo slid into him -- steering him, grounding him. Making him feel safe. He let Viggo go, and took the other hand, and did the same. "I'm ready," he said, and then he leaned down and placed a new kiss, at the centre of Viggo's chest. "Trust me."
It felt as though Sean's words -- or his kiss -- had unlocked something in Viggo's heart: he closed his eyes, a soft sound escaping his lips. And god, Sean's hand on him, Sean's voice, Sean's sheer desire... Viggo groaned, opening his eyes, and gazed into Sean's eyes again, wishing that Sean could just read his mind. There was so much he wanted to say, too much to say in words: it could take years to say everything, and there was less than a month to go before the shoot was over... But Sean understood him. Sean wanted him. Sean trusted him to...
He rolled over, hanging over Sean so that he could kiss him thoroughly. And Sean was arching up against him, beautifully responsive, his hands on Viggo's body tingling like electricity and his kisses making Viggo groan and rock against him.
And this was it, just the way Sean had pictured it would be: lying down on his back, Viggo pinning him, covering his neck and chest in loving kisses... It all made Sean's heart beat so fast against his ribs, he was sure Viggo had to feel it under his lips.
They'd come so far. Such a long way, such a long time, since Boromir dying at Parth Galen, with Aragorn weeping for him. Next to that, it was hardly any time at all since Viggo'd realised that, after all, he wanted Sean. They hadn't come to Crete expecting this; Viggo hadn't driven to Irákleio that day in the hope of meeting a lover.
They'd been simply happy to find that they were still friends -- as though the years might have played a trick on them, made one or other of them into somebody else. It'd been, at first, as though nothing had changed. And then, suddenly, as if nothing was the same any more.
There was no way back to the way things had been. But now, for the first time, they wondered if there was a way forward. Wondered what it might be.
AUTHOR: Cinzia and Gloria
Full headers here
In the dim light of the early morning, Viggo looked very young. Sean had been watching him for a few minutes now, since the light had woken him up. Viggo was sleeping on his back, hair tousled, his right arm pressed alongside Sean, who'd come awake with his head on Viggo's shoulder and had spent the last minutes looking inside himself for the difference that he knew should be there -- daylight always made things different, in his experience. He'd come up blank.
He and Viggo, in bed together. He had... he had fucked Viggo. Viggo.
Dear God.
He'd wanted it so much -- he still wanted it. He must be fucking mad.
Madness felt so good.
He touched the tattoo on Viggo's right arm, the elvish Nine that mirrored his own, its black whorls not yet faded with time. He traced the graceful lines with his thumb, reverently: the best thing that had ever happened in his life -- after his girls -- was forever etched on their skins. He leaned down, his lips following the path of his finger on Viggo's skin: it was slightly sweaty and salty, when he touched his tongue to it. His gaze drifted up, and found Viggo watching him.
Viggo had been dreaming, slowly rising through the dream to wakefulness. In his dream he'd been in the orange grove, with a deep blue sky above him -- but he'd known that that was wrong, because oranges only ripened at night.
In the dream, though, something vital had changed. It was daylight, and there he was, with sunlight slanting down through the branches. There was someone watching him, someone steadying him as he reached up to pluck a single perfect orange from a high branch. He could feel everything very intensely, as if he were a snake that had sloughed its old skin: the pores of the orange, the waxiness of the leaves, the dew pooling around the stem. The orange dropped into his hand as soon as he touched it, as though his touch had made it ripe and ready to be picked.
And then the ground was solid under the soles of his feet again, and there was the most delicious feeling--
--he was standing in the orange grove, rising up towards wakefulness, and the person next to him was Sean. He was coming awake, in bed, next to Sean. He smiled, in the dream, ready to let go of the sunlight, the grove, the orange in his hand. Ready to home in on the sensation of Sean's mouth. Sean kissing, licking... Viggo thought that he'd like to be woken this way every morning, woken by that clever mouth teasing and tracing his tattoo, kissing and licking, treating it like a magic charm that would summon him back from sleep.
And there he was, Sean, smiling up at him, looking so... so open, so happy, that Viggo wanted to capture the moment for ever.
He lifted his free hand, covered Sean's own tattoo with his palm. "Don't stop," he murmured, voice low, still hoarse with sleep.
So Sean didn't. He kept licking, kissing, nibbling lightly, taking the skin between his teeth and biting gently, revelling in the quickening of Viggo's breath.
This, Sean thought, is as it should be: me, and him. Remembering where everything started.
Moving on.
Viggo remembered being in the orange grove -- in that dream -- with Sean. Picking an orange. He must give the orange to Sean... Viggo smiled to himself, because the orange was still in the dream. But he was awake, now, and he remembered that he'd dreamt of oranges before.
He didn't think he'd ever succeeded in picking one until now. Watching Sean kissing and caressing his tattoo, almost sinking into the feeling, he wanted to watch Sean eating an orange... wanted to watch Sean. He stroked the soft skin under his hand, and Sean moaned and swept his tongue across the tattoo once more.
Sean kissed the reddened, wet skin one final time -- a gentle, loving kiss -- then moved up, brushing his lips against Viggo's skin until he reached his jaw, his mouth; and he felt Viggo's hand behind his neck, keeping him close. This, too, should've felt strange -- this looking each other in the eyes, as if seeing each other for the first time -- and it wasn't. Sean leaned closer, letting his lips part.
Watching Sean had made Viggo remember how he tasted. And then he wasn't sure that he'd remembered right, so he had to pull Sean up into a kiss, the first of the day, the first of many. Kissing Sean was wonderful, and Viggo felt as though he'd been starved, all the time he'd spent with Sean when they hadn't been kissing.
There was no frenzy in this kiss, no roughness, no hurry: they kissed with their eyes open, in full daylight for the first time; Viggo splayed his fingers in Sean's hair, feeling the vertebrae in Sean's neck against his palm, and pulled him closer. So good to look into his friend's eyes like this, close enough that nothing was hidden, close enough to see Sean's happiness like a light inside. It was a slow, slow kiss that said they had all the time in the world to figure things out.
The shoot would be over in just a few more weeks.
Sean broke the kiss first, aware both of his hard-on pressing against the mattress, and of Viggo's, so hot against his side. He rested his forehead against Viggo's, and reached down to take him in his hand.
"Want you," he said, low but clear. He knew that Viggo would understand him.
Viggo's eyes widened, the pupils so dilated Sean could see himself in their black depths; he felt Viggo's cock harden and thicken in his hand, and he stroked it lightly, the small whimper escaping Viggo's lips making him dizzy. He was nervous -- fuck, he was. But he wanted it.
Sean's hand curled, wonderfully familiar, around Viggo's cock. And suddenly it all came back to Viggo: the weight of that promise he'd made -- to Sean, to himself. His hands tightened on Sean's neck, at once aroused and nervous as hell at the thought of taking Sean, moaning as Sean's hand worked magic on him. He wanted Sean so much, too much: he couldn't trust himself to set the pace.
He let Sean go. His hands lifted to rest on Sean's shoulders, moving him away a little so that they could look each other fully in the eye. "Sean," Viggo started, and Sean saw him swallow, hard, searching for words.
"You... It doesn't need to happen just now," Viggo said. "I know what you--" Another swallow. He broke off, groaning. Sean's hand on his cock, not moving now, was making him dizzy with desire, and he couldn't find the right words.
"I want... I want to be good for you. You need to be ready, you..." Viggo's eyes were dark while they searched Sean's. "I promised you," Viggo finally said, as if he were unsure how to express what he meant. He gestured helplessly with one hand, then he put it back on Sean's shoulder, his fingers clenching and relaxing against Sean's skin. He didn't add anything else, as though words eluded him -- something Sean had never witnessed before.
Suddenly, looking at him this close, his hand still around Viggo's cock, Viggo lying there, looking miserable... Sean saw how hard this was on Viggo, too. How his trying to do what he thought best for Sean was leaving him open. Vulnerable. Sean's chest tightened. He knew the feeling, he remembered all too well; and for the first time... for the first time he thought, I'm ready to trust myself with this. I am. He deserves nothing less.
And it was so amazing how simple, how easy that suddenly was.
"Viggo." He lifted Viggo's hand from where it lay on his shoulder, turned it, and placed a kiss right into its palm. "I trust you." He pictured that hand, golden-looking, holding him close while Viggo slid into him -- steering him, grounding him. Making him feel safe. He let Viggo go, and took the other hand, and did the same. "I'm ready," he said, and then he leaned down and placed a new kiss, at the centre of Viggo's chest. "Trust me."
It felt as though Sean's words -- or his kiss -- had unlocked something in Viggo's heart: he closed his eyes, a soft sound escaping his lips. And god, Sean's hand on him, Sean's voice, Sean's sheer desire... Viggo groaned, opening his eyes, and gazed into Sean's eyes again, wishing that Sean could just read his mind. There was so much he wanted to say, too much to say in words: it could take years to say everything, and there was less than a month to go before the shoot was over... But Sean understood him. Sean wanted him. Sean trusted him to...
He rolled over, hanging over Sean so that he could kiss him thoroughly. And Sean was arching up against him, beautifully responsive, his hands on Viggo's body tingling like electricity and his kisses making Viggo groan and rock against him.
And this was it, just the way Sean had pictured it would be: lying down on his back, Viggo pinning him, covering his neck and chest in loving kisses... It all made Sean's heart beat so fast against his ribs, he was sure Viggo had to feel it under his lips.
They'd come so far. Such a long way, such a long time, since Boromir dying at Parth Galen, with Aragorn weeping for him. Next to that, it was hardly any time at all since Viggo'd realised that, after all, he wanted Sean. They hadn't come to Crete expecting this; Viggo hadn't driven to Irákleio that day in the hope of meeting a lover.
They'd been simply happy to find that they were still friends -- as though the years might have played a trick on them, made one or other of them into somebody else. It'd been, at first, as though nothing had changed. And then, suddenly, as if nothing was the same any more.
There was no way back to the way things had been. But now, for the first time, they wondered if there was a way forward. Wondered what it might be.
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no subject
Date: 2003-11-24 12:42 pm (UTC)what do you mean, you'd like articulate comments?!
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Date: 2003-11-25 02:01 pm (UTC)PS: I owe you email. And I just simply OWE you for the great help... You rock! :D *squishes you*
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Date: 2003-11-25 04:39 pm (UTC)(hint hint)(not subtle at all)
phew - glad you're ok with that, I know I tend to get over-enthusiastic ;)
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Date: 2003-11-24 03:27 pm (UTC)I'm all out of coherent fb. dsfjk;f;djsj;fuigghggguhhh...
I was basically a whimpering mess over here...this was so sexy and so beautiful and the way they *adore* and *savor* each other is almost too much to bear. I'm in love with their love!! And I lust for their lust. And I want to see their way forward, too!
*whimper*
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Date: 2003-11-25 02:02 pm (UTC)Whee! Mission accomplished. ;) *hugs* And we love your feedback, you know? So much. Thank you! :D
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Date: 2003-11-24 03:44 pm (UTC)I wish I was more articulate or coherent:-)
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Date: 2003-11-25 02:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-24 04:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-25 02:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-24 04:58 pm (UTC)Intense and overwhelming.
And I can't wait to see what happens next *G*
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Date: 2003-11-25 02:11 pm (UTC)And I can't wait to see what happens next *G*
*g* *hugs you lots* :D
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Date: 2003-11-24 06:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-25 02:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-24 10:12 pm (UTC)Unquestionably. : )
Oh, it's marvellous!
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Date: 2003-11-25 02:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-25 02:28 am (UTC)Gorgeous, just gorgeous! I don't know what else to say, and I am incapable of giving any sort of coherent feedback, because I'm hot and bothered and tearing up at the same time.
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Date: 2003-11-25 02:16 pm (UTC)Thank you! We're happy you're enjoying it this much! *hugs you*
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Date: 2003-11-25 03:52 am (UTC)And this, is beautiful.
Thank you, mormegil.
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Date: 2003-11-25 02:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-25 04:26 am (UTC)There was no frenzy in this kiss, no roughness, no hurry: they kissed with their eyes open, in full daylight for the first time
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Date: 2003-11-25 02:19 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for the fantastic feedback! *hugs* :)