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rugbytackleTITLE: NO TOMORROW PART 2
SERIES: NO TOMORROW
PAIRING: VM/ SB
RATING: PG-13
WARNING: AU
DISCLAIMER: It's fiction.
SUMMARY: "I just thought..., maybe we could become friends", you stutter, smiling and blushing. He laughs and nods: "Yes. Maybe."
And you walk beside him to school, listening to his marvellously cute rambling about the incredible light, about summer and then you stop to get rid of your shoes, taking the first step into his world.
INTRODUCTION: The setting is a school in England. Viggo is the "New One" from Denmark. He and Sean are 17 years old. I have no clue about schools in England, so I took my experiences of my school as a basis.
"I just thought..., maybe we could become friends", you stutter, smiling and blushing. He laughs and nods: "Yes. Maybe."
And you walk beside him to school, listening to his marvellously cute rambling about the incredible light, about summer and then you stop to get rid of your shoes, taking the first step into his world.
You sit next to him in the class-room, uncaring about the weird looks you get and he just smiles his little smile, barely curving his lips, but shining like sunlight from his eyes.
With his silent presence next to you are finally able to follow the lesson without disturbing it and the teacher remarks: "Sean, I don't know, why you changed your place in the classroom, but it has definitely a positive effect on you. The discipline of the class is astonishing without your constant bickering and bitching."
He chuckles next to you and hides his face behind a book, but you blush openly.
In the break your mates gather around you and a hail of questions pummels down on you: "What the hell are you doing?" "Why do you stick to this boring..."
"He isn't boring", you finally interrupt, "And about boredom itself: there's no fucking reason to be bored. If you are bored, it's your goddamn own fault!"
Looking around, you see, that he has vanished. You wan to call him, but suddenly you realise, that you don't even know his name.
"Fuck", you mutter under your breath, throwing your stuff carelessly into your backpack and run out to the yard. There you find him: sitting on the lawn, reading, his bare toes curling and uncurling in the neatly trimmed grass.
You take the image in, his frayed jeans, his much too big blue shirt, his pale-bronze tan, his Scandinavian features exposed now, because he tucked the feisty strands of long blond hair behind his ears. His bare forearms look scrawny, his wrists and ankles delicate and you find yourself musing about, how he would look naked.
You remember the day, you saw him for the first time, standing in front of the class, looking down to his feet, while the teacher introduced him to his classmates.
Not interested, you just gave him a quick polite glance, noticing his hands, that gripped the books he hugged to his chest white-knuckled, while you discussed the last game The Blades won with some other students, your heart filled with pride and euphoria, leaving no space for him.
You frowned at him, about the answers he gave to the teacher in his annoying soft lazy drawl. Your friends mocked him, asking him if his family was to poor to buy him shoes, calling him "too pretty for his own good".
Retreating, because you suddenly realised, that insulting him felt so perfectly wrong, you knew, that they were right.
You dealt with the knowledge of your bisexuality before, it's not new for you to desire boys, but he definitely is straight. But as long as you can be near him, you'll be happy.
SERIES: NO TOMORROW
PAIRING: VM/ SB
RATING: PG-13
WARNING: AU
DISCLAIMER: It's fiction.
SUMMARY: "I just thought..., maybe we could become friends", you stutter, smiling and blushing. He laughs and nods: "Yes. Maybe."
And you walk beside him to school, listening to his marvellously cute rambling about the incredible light, about summer and then you stop to get rid of your shoes, taking the first step into his world.
INTRODUCTION: The setting is a school in England. Viggo is the "New One" from Denmark. He and Sean are 17 years old. I have no clue about schools in England, so I took my experiences of my school as a basis.
"I just thought..., maybe we could become friends", you stutter, smiling and blushing. He laughs and nods: "Yes. Maybe."
And you walk beside him to school, listening to his marvellously cute rambling about the incredible light, about summer and then you stop to get rid of your shoes, taking the first step into his world.
You sit next to him in the class-room, uncaring about the weird looks you get and he just smiles his little smile, barely curving his lips, but shining like sunlight from his eyes.
With his silent presence next to you are finally able to follow the lesson without disturbing it and the teacher remarks: "Sean, I don't know, why you changed your place in the classroom, but it has definitely a positive effect on you. The discipline of the class is astonishing without your constant bickering and bitching."
He chuckles next to you and hides his face behind a book, but you blush openly.
In the break your mates gather around you and a hail of questions pummels down on you: "What the hell are you doing?" "Why do you stick to this boring..."
"He isn't boring", you finally interrupt, "And about boredom itself: there's no fucking reason to be bored. If you are bored, it's your goddamn own fault!"
Looking around, you see, that he has vanished. You wan to call him, but suddenly you realise, that you don't even know his name.
"Fuck", you mutter under your breath, throwing your stuff carelessly into your backpack and run out to the yard. There you find him: sitting on the lawn, reading, his bare toes curling and uncurling in the neatly trimmed grass.
You take the image in, his frayed jeans, his much too big blue shirt, his pale-bronze tan, his Scandinavian features exposed now, because he tucked the feisty strands of long blond hair behind his ears. His bare forearms look scrawny, his wrists and ankles delicate and you find yourself musing about, how he would look naked.
You remember the day, you saw him for the first time, standing in front of the class, looking down to his feet, while the teacher introduced him to his classmates.
Not interested, you just gave him a quick polite glance, noticing his hands, that gripped the books he hugged to his chest white-knuckled, while you discussed the last game The Blades won with some other students, your heart filled with pride and euphoria, leaving no space for him.
You frowned at him, about the answers he gave to the teacher in his annoying soft lazy drawl. Your friends mocked him, asking him if his family was to poor to buy him shoes, calling him "too pretty for his own good".
Retreating, because you suddenly realised, that insulting him felt so perfectly wrong, you knew, that they were right.
You dealt with the knowledge of your bisexuality before, it's not new for you to desire boys, but he definitely is straight. But as long as you can be near him, you'll be happy.
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no subject
Date: 2004-09-11 03:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-12 09:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-11 04:12 pm (UTC)Thanks for posting it!
no subject
Date: 2004-09-12 09:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-26 05:59 pm (UTC)