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Apr. 25th, 2003 10:15 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
lavingaround.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rugbytackleSpring has Sprung. My busy time in RL. Squeezing in some time to write and doing more reading than writing of late.
Pimps: Everything on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rugbytackle and [Bad username or site: sons of gondor @ livejournal.com]
Must also Pimp the Fic 'Drive' by 'maidazia' and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jennandanica. You can find it on her lj. Very Nice!
(I'll eventually figure out how to link more specifically. Still figuring out the lj stuff)
Here's a Fic by a good friend of mine who was inspired by 'White Boxers' rugbytackle challenge posted bylannamichaels on her lj.
Title: Offside
Author: Friend of Lavingaround
Rating: 'R'
Disclaimer: Know idea what they do in RW. Not anything like this I'm sure. Total Fiction.
Sean answered the door wearing only a pair of white boxers. He didn't seem to recognize his caller immediately, blinking slowly, and only then saying, "Oh, it's you. Come in."
"I've had more enthusiastic responses." Viggo kicked the door open, struggling with the carrier bags of takeaway as Sean disappeared into the house.
"Match is on." Sean mumbled from the lounge, as if that explained everything.
Viggo dumped the bags on the table and took a beer from the icebox. Sean, who, when it came to beer, had a sixth sense, yelled out "Bring us one, will you?"
Could being his girlfriend be much worse? Viggo wondered as he dutifully took a can to Sean. Being with Sean made him feel less masculine than he had ever felt before and it was really starting to bother him. It wasn't the sex, no he had done plenty of guys in the past and it had never made him feel like this. It was more the way Sean treated him, thought of him. Football was a good example. He didn't know much about British football and the fact that every other man in world seemed to be passionately involved with the sport worried him. For god's sake, he'd even heard Elijah arguing over a questionable offside call once. And it bothered him, bothered him that frickin' Elijah Wood of all people knew what the offside rule was when he didn't have a clue. And if it bothered him, what the hell did Sean think of it?
Sean took the beer without looking.
"Ah, what's the score?" Viggo settled in beside him, perfectly girlfriend like.
"Nought all."
Viggo bit his lip and tried to figure out who was playing. It wasn't easy. There were about a million different football teams and no logic when it came to who might play who at any one time. Someone kicked the ball fiercely toward the net and amid the shouts of the crowd it was caught spectacularly by a man with bleach blond curls. 'Definitely family', Viggo thought to himself.
Sean snorted. "David James is a bit dodgy, isn't he?" He took a long swig of his beer then fairness made him add, "Mind, he isn't half-bad at the net."
The keeper punted the ball far into mid-field with a last lingering camera shot of his earrings. 'Fuck this!' Viggo thought, suddenly angry. What the fuck was he doing sitting beside a man who was perfectly happy to spend all night with another man's cock up his ass, but who was such a closet case that he had to make comments like that?
What the hell did Sean say about him when he wasn't around? Viggo glared over at Sean. It wasn't like the bastard didn't spend half his life in a layer of pancake. Something dark and evil stole over him. "We all can't be as butch as you, Sean darling."
Predictably, Sean simply snuggled Viggo closer and smugly replied, "Few are."
And the worst part was that it was true. Even with make-up on, even with Viggo's cock up his ass, even then, Sean defied you to find him anything less than man. "And I'm not one of them, am I?" Viggo sniped.
The question must have coincided with a particularly dull moment in the match, because Sean looked over and said, "Eh?"
"I'm not. Not one of the butch few, am I, Sean?" Viggo stared hard into the eyes of his sometimes lover. A small battle, but one that he knew he could win against a man who hated emotional confrontation.
"What are you on about, Vig?" Honest confusion clouded Sean's expression.
"On about?" Viggo waved his can at the room. "This, you, me, all of it." He paused, a writer for once without words. Finally he gave up searching for the perfect phrase and settled for something crude but to the point, "I'm not your bitch."
Sean gave him an incredulous look. "Is this some sort of joke?"
Viggo slammed his can down hard. "Yeah, maybe it has been. Maybe."
He stood and started toward the door when Sean suddenly came alive and slammed him down hard into the floor. Sean pinned him to the ground, pressing a knee dangerously close to his balls, letting him feel the threat. "What the fuck is this about?"
Oh, yeah, he'd forgotten. Forgotten that Sean was a real hard-man, not just some actor playing tough for the public. Forgotten how dangerous playing with fire could be. Fear fed the darkness and he hated Sean, hated himself more for being so weak that he was twisting helplessly under the strong muscular body with no hope of throwing Sean off. And most of all, he really hated the fact that his cock was rock hard and that Sean knew it.
Sean shifted, laying a muscular thigh against the line of Viggo's cock "Is that what this is all about then?"
"Fuck you!"
"Oh, no, sunshine. You first." Sean growled before attacking Viggo's mouth .
The kiss was hard and fierce and Viggo felt himself loosen and open under it. He twisted against the hands the held him, not to find release but because now he needed nothing more than to hold Sean closer. And when Sean's lips finally left his, he was left weak, helpless and waiting for more.
"You bastard." He breathed into Sean's neck, half of him still angry at Sean, half of him only angry that Sean had stopped kissing him.
Sean rolled off him and sat sideways, hand propped against the wood floor, head slightly cocked as he leaned over Viggo. "I'm not, you know." A dozen emotions that Viggo might have named if he had time flitted across Sean's eyes. Finally the one he recognized as hurt settled in. It was a look he didn't see there often and as he felt a pain shoot through his heart, he realized that it was a look he didn't want to see there again.
"And I don't want you to think that I am." Sean continued, as he leaned back against the wall. "You're not my bitch and I'm not a bastard. Can we start there?"
Viggo rolled up to a sitting position. He gazed down at the floor, letting his hair fall forward across his face, hiding him from Sean. "I know." As quickly as it had come, the darkness fled. "I'm a moron."
Sean shuffled over to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "That I won't argue."
Viggo looked up, catching Sean's eyes. "Forgive me?"
"I'm not the one who was upset."
Sean stroked a thumb up Viggo's cheek. Viggo took in the touch and the warmth and concern that lay behind it. "You confuse me, Sean." He reached up and took Sean's hand, held it between his own. "You're so different from other men I've been with. You're so... straight."
They sat in silence a moment. Finally Sean answered, "I am what I am, Vig. You can call it whatever suits you, it won't change who I am."
No, that was true. Sean was Sean, simple and straightforward, he probably had never spent more than five minutes wondering about who he was or what to call it. So different from the endless soul-searching that defined Viggo's view of himself. Sean seemed to sense Viggo's thoughts, "And you are who you are, nothing I can do can change that. All we can do is enjoy each other."
"That easy?" Viggo mocked.
"It can be if you aren't in love with a moody sod who thinks too much."
Love?
Viggo twisted around, gazed deep into the eyes of a man who he never thought would know how to say such words to another man. "Me?"
Sean smiled at his surprise. "Yeah, you're a moody sod...and yeah, I love you." He let a little of his natural arrogance creep back in. "Love you enough to miss half the match."
Viggo knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't help himself. Not knowing what to say, he said the first thing that came into his mind. "I brought Chinese."
Sean grinned back. "Well then, you can bring me another beer when you fetch my food in."
This time it was Viggo who attacked, wrestling Sean down and ending up on top. "Idiot." He said fondly to the man beneath him.
"Your idiot."
And nothing had ever sounded so right before.
END
Pimps: Everything on
rugbytackle and [Bad username or site: sons of gondor @ livejournal.com]Must also Pimp the Fic 'Drive' by 'maidazia' and
jennandanica. You can find it on her lj. Very Nice!(I'll eventually figure out how to link more specifically. Still figuring out the lj stuff)
Here's a Fic by a good friend of mine who was inspired by 'White Boxers' rugbytackle challenge posted by
lannamichaels on her lj.Title: Offside
Author: Friend of Lavingaround
Rating: 'R'
Disclaimer: Know idea what they do in RW. Not anything like this I'm sure. Total Fiction.
Sean answered the door wearing only a pair of white boxers. He didn't seem to recognize his caller immediately, blinking slowly, and only then saying, "Oh, it's you. Come in."
"I've had more enthusiastic responses." Viggo kicked the door open, struggling with the carrier bags of takeaway as Sean disappeared into the house.
"Match is on." Sean mumbled from the lounge, as if that explained everything.
Viggo dumped the bags on the table and took a beer from the icebox. Sean, who, when it came to beer, had a sixth sense, yelled out "Bring us one, will you?"
Could being his girlfriend be much worse? Viggo wondered as he dutifully took a can to Sean. Being with Sean made him feel less masculine than he had ever felt before and it was really starting to bother him. It wasn't the sex, no he had done plenty of guys in the past and it had never made him feel like this. It was more the way Sean treated him, thought of him. Football was a good example. He didn't know much about British football and the fact that every other man in world seemed to be passionately involved with the sport worried him. For god's sake, he'd even heard Elijah arguing over a questionable offside call once. And it bothered him, bothered him that frickin' Elijah Wood of all people knew what the offside rule was when he didn't have a clue. And if it bothered him, what the hell did Sean think of it?
Sean took the beer without looking.
"Ah, what's the score?" Viggo settled in beside him, perfectly girlfriend like.
"Nought all."
Viggo bit his lip and tried to figure out who was playing. It wasn't easy. There were about a million different football teams and no logic when it came to who might play who at any one time. Someone kicked the ball fiercely toward the net and amid the shouts of the crowd it was caught spectacularly by a man with bleach blond curls. 'Definitely family', Viggo thought to himself.
Sean snorted. "David James is a bit dodgy, isn't he?" He took a long swig of his beer then fairness made him add, "Mind, he isn't half-bad at the net."
The keeper punted the ball far into mid-field with a last lingering camera shot of his earrings. 'Fuck this!' Viggo thought, suddenly angry. What the fuck was he doing sitting beside a man who was perfectly happy to spend all night with another man's cock up his ass, but who was such a closet case that he had to make comments like that?
What the hell did Sean say about him when he wasn't around? Viggo glared over at Sean. It wasn't like the bastard didn't spend half his life in a layer of pancake. Something dark and evil stole over him. "We all can't be as butch as you, Sean darling."
Predictably, Sean simply snuggled Viggo closer and smugly replied, "Few are."
And the worst part was that it was true. Even with make-up on, even with Viggo's cock up his ass, even then, Sean defied you to find him anything less than man. "And I'm not one of them, am I?" Viggo sniped.
The question must have coincided with a particularly dull moment in the match, because Sean looked over and said, "Eh?"
"I'm not. Not one of the butch few, am I, Sean?" Viggo stared hard into the eyes of his sometimes lover. A small battle, but one that he knew he could win against a man who hated emotional confrontation.
"What are you on about, Vig?" Honest confusion clouded Sean's expression.
"On about?" Viggo waved his can at the room. "This, you, me, all of it." He paused, a writer for once without words. Finally he gave up searching for the perfect phrase and settled for something crude but to the point, "I'm not your bitch."
Sean gave him an incredulous look. "Is this some sort of joke?"
Viggo slammed his can down hard. "Yeah, maybe it has been. Maybe."
He stood and started toward the door when Sean suddenly came alive and slammed him down hard into the floor. Sean pinned him to the ground, pressing a knee dangerously close to his balls, letting him feel the threat. "What the fuck is this about?"
Oh, yeah, he'd forgotten. Forgotten that Sean was a real hard-man, not just some actor playing tough for the public. Forgotten how dangerous playing with fire could be. Fear fed the darkness and he hated Sean, hated himself more for being so weak that he was twisting helplessly under the strong muscular body with no hope of throwing Sean off. And most of all, he really hated the fact that his cock was rock hard and that Sean knew it.
Sean shifted, laying a muscular thigh against the line of Viggo's cock "Is that what this is all about then?"
"Fuck you!"
"Oh, no, sunshine. You first." Sean growled before attacking Viggo's mouth .
The kiss was hard and fierce and Viggo felt himself loosen and open under it. He twisted against the hands the held him, not to find release but because now he needed nothing more than to hold Sean closer. And when Sean's lips finally left his, he was left weak, helpless and waiting for more.
"You bastard." He breathed into Sean's neck, half of him still angry at Sean, half of him only angry that Sean had stopped kissing him.
Sean rolled off him and sat sideways, hand propped against the wood floor, head slightly cocked as he leaned over Viggo. "I'm not, you know." A dozen emotions that Viggo might have named if he had time flitted across Sean's eyes. Finally the one he recognized as hurt settled in. It was a look he didn't see there often and as he felt a pain shoot through his heart, he realized that it was a look he didn't want to see there again.
"And I don't want you to think that I am." Sean continued, as he leaned back against the wall. "You're not my bitch and I'm not a bastard. Can we start there?"
Viggo rolled up to a sitting position. He gazed down at the floor, letting his hair fall forward across his face, hiding him from Sean. "I know." As quickly as it had come, the darkness fled. "I'm a moron."
Sean shuffled over to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "That I won't argue."
Viggo looked up, catching Sean's eyes. "Forgive me?"
"I'm not the one who was upset."
Sean stroked a thumb up Viggo's cheek. Viggo took in the touch and the warmth and concern that lay behind it. "You confuse me, Sean." He reached up and took Sean's hand, held it between his own. "You're so different from other men I've been with. You're so... straight."
They sat in silence a moment. Finally Sean answered, "I am what I am, Vig. You can call it whatever suits you, it won't change who I am."
No, that was true. Sean was Sean, simple and straightforward, he probably had never spent more than five minutes wondering about who he was or what to call it. So different from the endless soul-searching that defined Viggo's view of himself. Sean seemed to sense Viggo's thoughts, "And you are who you are, nothing I can do can change that. All we can do is enjoy each other."
"That easy?" Viggo mocked.
"It can be if you aren't in love with a moody sod who thinks too much."
Love?
Viggo twisted around, gazed deep into the eyes of a man who he never thought would know how to say such words to another man. "Me?"
Sean smiled at his surprise. "Yeah, you're a moody sod...and yeah, I love you." He let a little of his natural arrogance creep back in. "Love you enough to miss half the match."
Viggo knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't help himself. Not knowing what to say, he said the first thing that came into his mind. "I brought Chinese."
Sean grinned back. "Well then, you can bring me another beer when you fetch my food in."
This time it was Viggo who attacked, wrestling Sean down and ending up on top. "Idiot." He said fondly to the man beneath him.
"Your idiot."
And nothing had ever sounded so right before.
END
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Date: 2003-04-25 10:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-25 11:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-25 11:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-25 12:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-25 12:17 pm (UTC)If your friend wants a code, I have one. Be glad to give it to someone who wrote such a nice response to my challenge! :D
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Date: 2003-04-25 07:26 pm (UTC)Much appreciated, :)
Thanks
Date: 2003-04-25 08:19 pm (UTC)Friend of Lavingaround
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Date: 2003-04-27 12:51 am (UTC)