SPARRING PARTNERS - PART 7
Jun. 20th, 2005 06:39 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
shegollum.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rugbytackle7 of 18. I'll post a handful of chapters tonight. Thank you so much for the great feedback so far. Mucho appreicated! :-)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Another short chapter. Thank you for bearing with me. Your feedback helps immensely. Thanks, gang. :-D
SPARRING PARTNERS - PART 7
Here's a new fic with Viggo and Bean. Give it a try, okay? I hope you like it. Feedback is very much appreciated. Ciao!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Title: SPARRING PARTNERS
Author: shegollum
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Archive: Rugbytackle
Warnings: Don't read it unless you're old enough and mature enough, 'kay? A little angsty, I suppose.
Disclaimer: The thoughts and feelings exist but belong to others. Viggo and Sean had nothing to do with any of it. Not beta'd. All errors are mine alone.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Previous part can be found here:
http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=shegollum&keyword=SPARRING+PARTNERS&filter=all
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck! What the hell is going on?”
Sean forced one crusty eye open, not at all sure if he’d said that out loud. Or just felt it in every pore of his being. He was laying face down with his face smooshed into a pillow that was damp with something – his sweat, he hoped, considering the other bodily fluids that could have been represented. He was truly and completely hung over and had no idea how the hell he’d gotten here. As it slowly dawned on him that ‘here’ seemed to be Viggo’s narrow bed in the trailer, his body reacted with a terror that would have normally frightened him enough to quickly flip over and see what or who or what he was lying next to. However, turning over was not an option right now, it really wasn’t. Dramatic motion of that sort would undoubtedly result in eye-exploding pain and even more nausea than he felt as he lay perfectly still. But for chrissakes the panic caused by the thought that it might be a naked, satiated Viggo had caused his pulse to jump, thudding painfully inside his eyes and at the base of his skull.
“Fuck!”
He realized he’d definitely said that aloud as – even though it was no more than dry-throated rasp -- it managed to sound tremendously loud and deep inside his dried and fried brain, his ears making some sort of protective gesture that felt like they were trying to curl up in a ball and die.
He’d heard no sounds, felt no movement following his exclamation, so perhaps Viggo wasn’t there. Even as he said this, he realized he was looking at a nest of blankets and pillows on the floor. He could vaguely make out what must have been a Viggo-shaped hollow in it even as his brain clicked off, murmuring to him to relax and go the fuck back to sleep. The bloke he suddenly, inexplicably wanted to fuck more than anything had opted to sleep as far away from him as he could get in the confined space, that stupid little voice taunted. Sean gave up with a sigh-grunt and fell back into a deep sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Viggo popped back into the trailer around lunch time, bringing with him some sort of Styrofoam container and a liter bottle of Diet Sprite. As he strode back toward the bed in the small space, he rattled open the shades that still hung closed over the few frosted windows. The sounds and light pouring in around him woke Sean fairly quickly but the oniony, greasy smell emanating from the Styrofoam box made him sit bolt upright.
“How ya doing?” asked Viggo, sitting down on the very edge of the bed, wriggling his butt a bit to make room for himself. Sean moved over grudgingly. He felt much better than he had when he’d been first awake some four hours ago, but he'd never win praise as a morning person under any conditions. He glared unsteadily at his friend and then grimaced down at the container now sitting on the sheets over his lap.
“What, in the name of God, have you brought me?”
Viggo looked almost excited as he answered, “It’s kind of a secret remedy. It’s what I always need after a bender so I had the canteen guys make you up a batch. Plus Diet Sprite. It was a toss up between Diet Sprite and Gator Ade but I thought this was better since, you know…” His voice trailed off.
“Oh Vig,” said Sean looking so somberly at the box that Viggo almost had to laugh. “Please tell me its not those wee fish that you like.” He looked up at Viggo, sad-eyed and almost anxious. “I don’t think I can...”
“No! I wouldn’t waste a true Danish specialty on you, friend. It’s a Mortensen home remedy: tater tots, the kind with onions diced up in them. A guarantee to cure what ails ya when used in conjunction with the special condiment mixture, of course!” He beamed at Sean as he reached over and popped open the container, being sure to point out the clear plastic tubs of catsup and mayonnaise. You have to mix these two together until they’re really pink and then smoosh the tater tots around in it. It’s really, really good!”
Sean’s brain was still somewhere back in the land of Nod – or on the table in their booth at the pub -- but his heart knew that his friend really wanted him to feel better, so he grinned weakly up at him, thanking him sincerely for not bringing him ‘wee fish’. It was the best he could do.
Sean took the aspirin Viggo brought him, washing it down with the bottle of Diet Sprite and a glass of water, realizing he’d been parched. He did less well on the food, managing to down only two of the tater tots before he gave up and dozed off again. Viggo picked at the remainder while he watched Sean falling back into sleep, finally getting up and heading back to the set for the afternoon’s filming.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sean woke not too long after Viggo had left. He really did feel quite a bit better he realized. It could have been the aspirin, but it might also have been the tater tots as well he supposed with a rueful smile. He got up and hit the shower, staying in there a long time as he washed away the night before.
He used the tea tree oil shampoo he found, loving the clean fresh scent and the tingling feeling it caused in his scalp and hands. Standing there, letting the hot water pound into him, breathing in the humid scent, he finally began to think over the issue he’d still not really faced. Viggo. And whatever this was going on between them.
He had to acknowledge that he’d caught himself looking at Viggo with more than platonic friendship in his mind a few times these last few days. He smiled to himself as he accepted this and rolled it around in his head. So the fuck what, Bean? The guy was a handsome bloke and had always had a great, tight, muscular body. Orlando always used to say Viggo was ‘sex on legs’ and Sean had never argued with him – he knew in his brain it was true even then, it was just weird now that all the rest of his being – cock included -- seemed to be arriving at the same conclusion.
“Gods,” he murmured as he recognized the familiar feeling of blood rushing to his cock, the extra heaviness in his groin, the deep tickle that ran up from his penis into his stomach. His hand automatically circled loosely around his cock, his index finger and thumb squeezing gently and rhythmically, making him harder, hornier. He closed his eyes, test-driving this new possibility that was settling into his brain and his heart and was surprised to feel himself immediately getting harder as he let his thoughts go. He leaned his head back under the pulsation of the shower head and allowed the images in his mind to come as they wanted and he was no longer very surprised to realize that they were purely, simply Viggo, his smile, his eyes, his ass, his chest -- the play of muscles there and in his back as he moved through his practice sessions in the gym, that indescribable scent of warmth and sea he somehow exuded, how it had felt to flick his tongue against his ear even as he’d felt the rasp of his mustache against his cheek. He could suddenly imagine – with a rush of relief as he freely made his choice to easily and irreversibly let go – his lips against Viggo’s. He could imagine feeling the stubble around the full lips, imagine the pressure, the escalation of raw passion...but he couldn’t imagine his taste. He realized with a sudden ferocious clarity that he wanted to know what Viggo’s lips and mouth tasted like.
His hand was pumping strongly now, his eyes closing, affording him erotic images of Viggo’s mouth around his cock. It didn’t take him long then – he squeezed and stroked and dreamt and came with an orgasm that left him twitching with aftershocks, too sensitive for even the light fall of the shower. He leaned against the shower wall, gasping, thinking and seeing and wanting that taste.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Another short chapter. Thank you for bearing with me. Your feedback helps immensely. Thanks, gang. :-D
SPARRING PARTNERS - PART 7
Here's a new fic with Viggo and Bean. Give it a try, okay? I hope you like it. Feedback is very much appreciated. Ciao!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Title: SPARRING PARTNERS
Author: shegollum
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Archive: Rugbytackle
Warnings: Don't read it unless you're old enough and mature enough, 'kay? A little angsty, I suppose.
Disclaimer: The thoughts and feelings exist but belong to others. Viggo and Sean had nothing to do with any of it. Not beta'd. All errors are mine alone.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Previous part can be found here:
http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=shegollum&keyword=SPARRING+PARTNERS&filter=all
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck! What the hell is going on?”
Sean forced one crusty eye open, not at all sure if he’d said that out loud. Or just felt it in every pore of his being. He was laying face down with his face smooshed into a pillow that was damp with something – his sweat, he hoped, considering the other bodily fluids that could have been represented. He was truly and completely hung over and had no idea how the hell he’d gotten here. As it slowly dawned on him that ‘here’ seemed to be Viggo’s narrow bed in the trailer, his body reacted with a terror that would have normally frightened him enough to quickly flip over and see what or who or what he was lying next to. However, turning over was not an option right now, it really wasn’t. Dramatic motion of that sort would undoubtedly result in eye-exploding pain and even more nausea than he felt as he lay perfectly still. But for chrissakes the panic caused by the thought that it might be a naked, satiated Viggo had caused his pulse to jump, thudding painfully inside his eyes and at the base of his skull.
“Fuck!”
He realized he’d definitely said that aloud as – even though it was no more than dry-throated rasp -- it managed to sound tremendously loud and deep inside his dried and fried brain, his ears making some sort of protective gesture that felt like they were trying to curl up in a ball and die.
He’d heard no sounds, felt no movement following his exclamation, so perhaps Viggo wasn’t there. Even as he said this, he realized he was looking at a nest of blankets and pillows on the floor. He could vaguely make out what must have been a Viggo-shaped hollow in it even as his brain clicked off, murmuring to him to relax and go the fuck back to sleep. The bloke he suddenly, inexplicably wanted to fuck more than anything had opted to sleep as far away from him as he could get in the confined space, that stupid little voice taunted. Sean gave up with a sigh-grunt and fell back into a deep sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Viggo popped back into the trailer around lunch time, bringing with him some sort of Styrofoam container and a liter bottle of Diet Sprite. As he strode back toward the bed in the small space, he rattled open the shades that still hung closed over the few frosted windows. The sounds and light pouring in around him woke Sean fairly quickly but the oniony, greasy smell emanating from the Styrofoam box made him sit bolt upright.
“How ya doing?” asked Viggo, sitting down on the very edge of the bed, wriggling his butt a bit to make room for himself. Sean moved over grudgingly. He felt much better than he had when he’d been first awake some four hours ago, but he'd never win praise as a morning person under any conditions. He glared unsteadily at his friend and then grimaced down at the container now sitting on the sheets over his lap.
“What, in the name of God, have you brought me?”
Viggo looked almost excited as he answered, “It’s kind of a secret remedy. It’s what I always need after a bender so I had the canteen guys make you up a batch. Plus Diet Sprite. It was a toss up between Diet Sprite and Gator Ade but I thought this was better since, you know…” His voice trailed off.
“Oh Vig,” said Sean looking so somberly at the box that Viggo almost had to laugh. “Please tell me its not those wee fish that you like.” He looked up at Viggo, sad-eyed and almost anxious. “I don’t think I can...”
“No! I wouldn’t waste a true Danish specialty on you, friend. It’s a Mortensen home remedy: tater tots, the kind with onions diced up in them. A guarantee to cure what ails ya when used in conjunction with the special condiment mixture, of course!” He beamed at Sean as he reached over and popped open the container, being sure to point out the clear plastic tubs of catsup and mayonnaise. You have to mix these two together until they’re really pink and then smoosh the tater tots around in it. It’s really, really good!”
Sean’s brain was still somewhere back in the land of Nod – or on the table in their booth at the pub -- but his heart knew that his friend really wanted him to feel better, so he grinned weakly up at him, thanking him sincerely for not bringing him ‘wee fish’. It was the best he could do.
Sean took the aspirin Viggo brought him, washing it down with the bottle of Diet Sprite and a glass of water, realizing he’d been parched. He did less well on the food, managing to down only two of the tater tots before he gave up and dozed off again. Viggo picked at the remainder while he watched Sean falling back into sleep, finally getting up and heading back to the set for the afternoon’s filming.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sean woke not too long after Viggo had left. He really did feel quite a bit better he realized. It could have been the aspirin, but it might also have been the tater tots as well he supposed with a rueful smile. He got up and hit the shower, staying in there a long time as he washed away the night before.
He used the tea tree oil shampoo he found, loving the clean fresh scent and the tingling feeling it caused in his scalp and hands. Standing there, letting the hot water pound into him, breathing in the humid scent, he finally began to think over the issue he’d still not really faced. Viggo. And whatever this was going on between them.
He had to acknowledge that he’d caught himself looking at Viggo with more than platonic friendship in his mind a few times these last few days. He smiled to himself as he accepted this and rolled it around in his head. So the fuck what, Bean? The guy was a handsome bloke and had always had a great, tight, muscular body. Orlando always used to say Viggo was ‘sex on legs’ and Sean had never argued with him – he knew in his brain it was true even then, it was just weird now that all the rest of his being – cock included -- seemed to be arriving at the same conclusion.
“Gods,” he murmured as he recognized the familiar feeling of blood rushing to his cock, the extra heaviness in his groin, the deep tickle that ran up from his penis into his stomach. His hand automatically circled loosely around his cock, his index finger and thumb squeezing gently and rhythmically, making him harder, hornier. He closed his eyes, test-driving this new possibility that was settling into his brain and his heart and was surprised to feel himself immediately getting harder as he let his thoughts go. He leaned his head back under the pulsation of the shower head and allowed the images in his mind to come as they wanted and he was no longer very surprised to realize that they were purely, simply Viggo, his smile, his eyes, his ass, his chest -- the play of muscles there and in his back as he moved through his practice sessions in the gym, that indescribable scent of warmth and sea he somehow exuded, how it had felt to flick his tongue against his ear even as he’d felt the rasp of his mustache against his cheek. He could suddenly imagine – with a rush of relief as he freely made his choice to easily and irreversibly let go – his lips against Viggo’s. He could imagine feeling the stubble around the full lips, imagine the pressure, the escalation of raw passion...but he couldn’t imagine his taste. He realized with a sudden ferocious clarity that he wanted to know what Viggo’s lips and mouth tasted like.
His hand was pumping strongly now, his eyes closing, affording him erotic images of Viggo’s mouth around his cock. It didn’t take him long then – he squeezed and stroked and dreamt and came with an orgasm that left him twitching with aftershocks, too sensitive for even the light fall of the shower. He leaned against the shower wall, gasping, thinking and seeing and wanting that taste.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2005-06-20 10:54 pm (UTC)Angie
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Date: 2005-06-21 12:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-22 12:18 am (UTC)and you posted multiple ones again :grin:
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Date: 2005-06-22 08:59 pm (UTC)