Sometimes - Chapter Seven
Feb. 2nd, 2004 06:17 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
widdershin.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rugbytackleThought I wouldn't be able to post this until the end of the week, but it is amazing what can happen during a slow afternoon at work!
FIC: Sometimes 7 / 9
AUTHOR: Widdershin
RATING: NC17
PAIRING: SB/VM
ARCHIVE:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rugbytackling, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
more_than_mates, others please ask
WARNING: Angst, implied HET relationship, a bit of wanking
DISCLAIMER: This story is 100% fiction. The author doesn't know these people. These events never happened.
SUMMARY: Blokes from Sheffield don’t do that…
BETA:owlgrey
Viggo stood with his back pressed against the inside of the front door knowing Sean was outside waiting for the taxi. He wanted to open the door and call Sean back in, but knew he couldn’t handle Sean saying no again tonight. He had had no intention of kissing Sean, of touching him. He hadn’t even realized his fingers were in Sean’s hair. It just felt right. Viggo had given in to the warm glow of the alcohol and the heat rising from Sean’s body. He wanted to touch Sean, to bury his face in Sean’s hair and take in his scent. Then their faces touched … Viggo was sure he hadn’t moved towards the kiss, but he knew he wanted to taste Sean. Then… Viggo’s head dropped back against the door as he squeezed his eyes shut… Sean had said no.
The rumble of a car, the slam of a door closing and Viggo knew Sean was gone. He sank to the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees, not sure what to do next.
The taxi ride home felt surreal. Sean was still quite drunk as he sank back into the car seat, he was confused over the way his night with Viggo ended, the way he had ended it. Shit, he knew he wasn’t into blokes, but he had responded to Viggo’s touch in a way that shocked him. He fought the urge to get the driver to turn the car around. He needed to straighten things out with Viggo…Sean inwardly groaned at the unintentional pun and decided to let it go until the red wine fog had dissipated. After all it was just the result of too much alcohol, Vig on the rebound and … Sean had to be honest, he hadn’t had any action himself for a while.
The taxi pulled into his driveway; Sean paid the driver, thanked him and went inside.
Viggo’s stomach began to cramp and he knew he had to stand up and move. It was another early morning call so he grabbed a bottle of water and headed up the stairs to his bedroom. He felt vaguely sick and the early stages of a headache were evident, but he knew that this was only partly due to another night drinking. He stood in the doorway of his room and looked at the unmade bed. For some reason he couldn’t make himself enter his room. He was loath to admit it, but he was lonely. It had felt so good having Sean in the house with him and he blew it. Viggo could feel the tension building in his body and knew he had to do something. His nerve endings were twitching as he took a mouthful of water and walked back down the stairs.
It was a balmy night and he felt the slight warm breeze as he opened the sliding door wide in his studio and put a new canvas on his easel.
Sean’s room was still and dark. He threw his wallet on the bedside table, stripped down to his boxers and walked into the bathroom. He flicked on the switch and winced at the harsh light of the fluorescent tube about the mirror. He stood and looked at the reflection staring back. No one looked good in this sort of lighting, but Sean shook his head slightly and gave a bitter chuckle at how rough he looked. “Man we must have been drunk,” Sean muttered to the man facing him, not sure who he was trying to convince. Subconsciously his fingers traced the path of Viggo’s tongue across his bottom lip. Suddenly aware of his actions he quickly pulled his hand away and turned on the cold water tap. Sean plunged his face under the tap in an attempt to wash away the memory of Viggo’s touch. He gasped and jerked his head back shaking off the excess water and running his hand back through his wet hair. With that ghost exorcised Sean climbed into his bed.
Sean lay in the dark staring at the net curtain stirring slightly in the warm breeze. Even though he tried blanking his mind to invite sleep, Sean kept replaying the events of the evening. Again his hand travelled to his face and gently swept down across his throat. He groaned as he felt the heat pool in his groin and knew sleep wasn’t an option yet.
Viggo stood in front of the clean canvas as if squaring off in front of an enemy. He pulled his t-shirt off over his head and picked up a broad flat head brush. The palette was smeared with greens that Viggo began to apply to the canvas in long sweeping strokes. First a background of dark deep forest. He needed to cover the white as quickly as possible, but the colour wasn’t right. He loaded the brush with a vibrant emerald and layered it tentatively over a section. He stood back and frowned, it wasn’t right… he couldn’t get it to work.
It wasn’t just the humid night that was causing the light film of sweat on Sean’s body as he ran his hand down his belly and under the waistband of his boxers. He focused his thoughts on a one night stand he had had several months ago…a very drunken night that resulted in a blowjob in the car park of a pub back home. He needed this distraction. Sean slid his boxers down his legs and kicked them off the edge of the bed. He slowly stroked his cock remembering the dark red lipstick as her mouth slipped over the head and began to take him in. The lipstick smeared on his shaft as she pulled back off. Sean moaned and rubbed his thumb over the head spreading the beads of pre-come. He arched his back and rocked his hips gently pushing his cock up into his hand. The red stained lips faded in Sean’s mind replaced with an image of his aching cock disappearing into a totally different mouth.
Viggo threw his brush against the wall in frustration, “Why the fuck can’t I get it right?” he shouted to no one and knocked the offending canvas to the floor. He absently rubbed his hand across his chest leaving a faint trail of green paint before pouring the contents of several small jars directly onto the canvas. Viggo dropped to his knees in front of the canvas and drew his hand through the pools of paint. He curled his fingers until they were coated in the pigment and spiralled them in fluid swirls. Viggo reached for more jars and soon the entire canvas was swimming in colour. Both of Viggo’s hands were moving rapidly across the building picture. Paint bubbled between his fingers and ran in rivulets over the back of his hands.
Sean could see the scarred lip move teasingly over the tip of his cock as his fingers gripped tighter, moved faster. He was looking into Viggo’s eyes as his other hand reached down to caress the sensitised skin of his thighs.
Viggo’s paint covered hands scrambled through a pile of photographs until he found him…Sean. Slippery fingers frantically tore the photo into uneven pieces that were rapidly submerged into the paint. Viggo’s fingernails clawed and scraped converging spirals in the thick paint revealing glimpses of the photo and the colour swirls below.
Sean’s toes curled and pulled at the sheets as he thrust his leaking cock harder into his hand. He felt his balls tighten and his hips lifted off the bed as he came. It was Viggo’s name on his lips.
Sweat dripped down his chest mingling with the green paint. Viggo sat back and looked at the painting and very softly whispered, “Sean”.
Sean lay on his bed stunned by what had happened. Shit…that was not supposed to happen. Blokes from Sheffield didn’t wank to images of their best mate. Sean groaned and wiped himself clean trying not to consider the implications that it had felt so good touching himself while imagining Viggo’s hands and mouth on his body. God…it felt good.
The ring of his cell phone startled Sean, “Who the fuck would ring at this time of the night?” hoping there wasn’t a problem back home. He quickly picked it up and smiled at the caller ID, “Hi Vig,” he said quietly.
“Hey,” was the soft reply.
When it was obvious that Viggo wasn’t going to add anything Sean glanced at the clock and said, “Any reason why you are calling at three in the morning when we have to get up in a few hours?”
“I’m tired Sean and I needed to know if things are okay between us.”
Sean paused and thought it over, finally he said, “Yes Vig, things are okay.”
“I just needed to hear that Sean.”
Sean could hear the exhaustion in Viggo’s voice.
“You need to sleep Vig…put the phone down.”
There was no reply except for the gentle click of the phone.
tbc
FIC: Sometimes 7 / 9
AUTHOR: Widdershin
RATING: NC17
PAIRING: SB/VM
ARCHIVE:
rugbytackling, more_than_mates, others please askWARNING: Angst, implied HET relationship, a bit of wanking
DISCLAIMER: This story is 100% fiction. The author doesn't know these people. These events never happened.
SUMMARY: Blokes from Sheffield don’t do that…
BETA:
owlgreyViggo stood with his back pressed against the inside of the front door knowing Sean was outside waiting for the taxi. He wanted to open the door and call Sean back in, but knew he couldn’t handle Sean saying no again tonight. He had had no intention of kissing Sean, of touching him. He hadn’t even realized his fingers were in Sean’s hair. It just felt right. Viggo had given in to the warm glow of the alcohol and the heat rising from Sean’s body. He wanted to touch Sean, to bury his face in Sean’s hair and take in his scent. Then their faces touched … Viggo was sure he hadn’t moved towards the kiss, but he knew he wanted to taste Sean. Then… Viggo’s head dropped back against the door as he squeezed his eyes shut… Sean had said no.
The rumble of a car, the slam of a door closing and Viggo knew Sean was gone. He sank to the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees, not sure what to do next.
The taxi ride home felt surreal. Sean was still quite drunk as he sank back into the car seat, he was confused over the way his night with Viggo ended, the way he had ended it. Shit, he knew he wasn’t into blokes, but he had responded to Viggo’s touch in a way that shocked him. He fought the urge to get the driver to turn the car around. He needed to straighten things out with Viggo…Sean inwardly groaned at the unintentional pun and decided to let it go until the red wine fog had dissipated. After all it was just the result of too much alcohol, Vig on the rebound and … Sean had to be honest, he hadn’t had any action himself for a while.
The taxi pulled into his driveway; Sean paid the driver, thanked him and went inside.
Viggo’s stomach began to cramp and he knew he had to stand up and move. It was another early morning call so he grabbed a bottle of water and headed up the stairs to his bedroom. He felt vaguely sick and the early stages of a headache were evident, but he knew that this was only partly due to another night drinking. He stood in the doorway of his room and looked at the unmade bed. For some reason he couldn’t make himself enter his room. He was loath to admit it, but he was lonely. It had felt so good having Sean in the house with him and he blew it. Viggo could feel the tension building in his body and knew he had to do something. His nerve endings were twitching as he took a mouthful of water and walked back down the stairs.
It was a balmy night and he felt the slight warm breeze as he opened the sliding door wide in his studio and put a new canvas on his easel.
Sean’s room was still and dark. He threw his wallet on the bedside table, stripped down to his boxers and walked into the bathroom. He flicked on the switch and winced at the harsh light of the fluorescent tube about the mirror. He stood and looked at the reflection staring back. No one looked good in this sort of lighting, but Sean shook his head slightly and gave a bitter chuckle at how rough he looked. “Man we must have been drunk,” Sean muttered to the man facing him, not sure who he was trying to convince. Subconsciously his fingers traced the path of Viggo’s tongue across his bottom lip. Suddenly aware of his actions he quickly pulled his hand away and turned on the cold water tap. Sean plunged his face under the tap in an attempt to wash away the memory of Viggo’s touch. He gasped and jerked his head back shaking off the excess water and running his hand back through his wet hair. With that ghost exorcised Sean climbed into his bed.
Sean lay in the dark staring at the net curtain stirring slightly in the warm breeze. Even though he tried blanking his mind to invite sleep, Sean kept replaying the events of the evening. Again his hand travelled to his face and gently swept down across his throat. He groaned as he felt the heat pool in his groin and knew sleep wasn’t an option yet.
Viggo stood in front of the clean canvas as if squaring off in front of an enemy. He pulled his t-shirt off over his head and picked up a broad flat head brush. The palette was smeared with greens that Viggo began to apply to the canvas in long sweeping strokes. First a background of dark deep forest. He needed to cover the white as quickly as possible, but the colour wasn’t right. He loaded the brush with a vibrant emerald and layered it tentatively over a section. He stood back and frowned, it wasn’t right… he couldn’t get it to work.
It wasn’t just the humid night that was causing the light film of sweat on Sean’s body as he ran his hand down his belly and under the waistband of his boxers. He focused his thoughts on a one night stand he had had several months ago…a very drunken night that resulted in a blowjob in the car park of a pub back home. He needed this distraction. Sean slid his boxers down his legs and kicked them off the edge of the bed. He slowly stroked his cock remembering the dark red lipstick as her mouth slipped over the head and began to take him in. The lipstick smeared on his shaft as she pulled back off. Sean moaned and rubbed his thumb over the head spreading the beads of pre-come. He arched his back and rocked his hips gently pushing his cock up into his hand. The red stained lips faded in Sean’s mind replaced with an image of his aching cock disappearing into a totally different mouth.
Viggo threw his brush against the wall in frustration, “Why the fuck can’t I get it right?” he shouted to no one and knocked the offending canvas to the floor. He absently rubbed his hand across his chest leaving a faint trail of green paint before pouring the contents of several small jars directly onto the canvas. Viggo dropped to his knees in front of the canvas and drew his hand through the pools of paint. He curled his fingers until they were coated in the pigment and spiralled them in fluid swirls. Viggo reached for more jars and soon the entire canvas was swimming in colour. Both of Viggo’s hands were moving rapidly across the building picture. Paint bubbled between his fingers and ran in rivulets over the back of his hands.
Sean could see the scarred lip move teasingly over the tip of his cock as his fingers gripped tighter, moved faster. He was looking into Viggo’s eyes as his other hand reached down to caress the sensitised skin of his thighs.
Viggo’s paint covered hands scrambled through a pile of photographs until he found him…Sean. Slippery fingers frantically tore the photo into uneven pieces that were rapidly submerged into the paint. Viggo’s fingernails clawed and scraped converging spirals in the thick paint revealing glimpses of the photo and the colour swirls below.
Sean’s toes curled and pulled at the sheets as he thrust his leaking cock harder into his hand. He felt his balls tighten and his hips lifted off the bed as he came. It was Viggo’s name on his lips.
Sweat dripped down his chest mingling with the green paint. Viggo sat back and looked at the painting and very softly whispered, “Sean”.
Sean lay on his bed stunned by what had happened. Shit…that was not supposed to happen. Blokes from Sheffield didn’t wank to images of their best mate. Sean groaned and wiped himself clean trying not to consider the implications that it had felt so good touching himself while imagining Viggo’s hands and mouth on his body. God…it felt good.
The ring of his cell phone startled Sean, “Who the fuck would ring at this time of the night?” hoping there wasn’t a problem back home. He quickly picked it up and smiled at the caller ID, “Hi Vig,” he said quietly.
“Hey,” was the soft reply.
When it was obvious that Viggo wasn’t going to add anything Sean glanced at the clock and said, “Any reason why you are calling at three in the morning when we have to get up in a few hours?”
“I’m tired Sean and I needed to know if things are okay between us.”
Sean paused and thought it over, finally he said, “Yes Vig, things are okay.”
“I just needed to hear that Sean.”
Sean could hear the exhaustion in Viggo’s voice.
“You need to sleep Vig…put the phone down.”
There was no reply except for the gentle click of the phone.
tbc
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Sometimes Chapter 7
Date: 2004-02-02 08:56 am (UTC)Re: Sometimes Chapter 7
Date: 2004-02-03 11:24 pm (UTC)But don't ask me about grammar.... (oops i did an extra dot...oh no!)
ha ha ha
Re: Sometimes Chapter 7
Date: 2004-02-04 12:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-04 12:43 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: 2004-02-05 01:33 am (UTC)Getting closer to the end of this series so next part soon...