SPARRING PARTNERS - PART 17
Jun. 23rd, 2005 07:27 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}
rugbytackle~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
SPARRING PARTNERS - PART 17
Be warned -- it's Viggo and Bean. And it's gonna get angsty, folks! I really 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? Angsty, I suppose.
Disclaimer: The thoughts and feelings may 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
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
They walked closely together along dark streets, heading to the pub. They didn’t touch but a comfortable silence cocooned them. The streets were quiet and lonely and they enjoyed the peacefulness of the walk together.
Soon enough they were at the pub, slipping in and stopping at the bar for a couple of beers. Taking their drinks, they headed to their regular booth. The pub was subdued tonight, the crowd a small and quiet one largely preoccupied with a football match they were watching on the television. As they sat, Sean automatically took the bench that would have him facing the TV, already scanning to catch up on the game. Viggo slid in on the opposite side, facing Sean and the main seating area beyond him.
In the darkness of the booth, their hands found each other's on the tabletop, fingers entwining and stroking. Both men allowed the uninvolved simplicity of the setting to sink into them, finding solace in just sitting in the relative quiet, occasionally meeting each other’s gaze or getting caught studying the other. Sean settled his booted feet on the bench opposite, the side of a shoe resting against Viggo’s jean-clad thigh. Viggo’s free hand worked its way to Sean’s naked ankle, touching the warm skin and rubbing along the strong prominent bones there. Sean was beginning to relax, happy to get lost in the game and a pint with his best mate. “And then some”, he mentally added.
He was watching Viggo now, half-listening to the match, amused to see that the Dane had found a pen somewhere along the way and was busily scrawling on a bar napkin, totally absorbed. Sean cleared his throat deliberately once, twice and then a third louder time before Viggo heard him and looked up. Sean smiled happily at him and looked pointedly down at the paper under Viggo’s pen, a questioning expression on his face as he looked up at his lover again. Viggo looked a bit embarrassed and he shrugged, dipping his chin downward.
“Just thoughts,” he said. “Things I don't want to forget.”
His words hinted at a sadness not yet come to pass and their eyes met again. Sean was the first to break their gaze, looking down as he tightened his lips and exhaled silently through his nose. Viggo watched him still, seeing the already hooded green eyes now totally hidden from him as they closed against the world. For just a moment, Viggo’s mind raced ahead on their unsure path and he felt ice crunching and crushing through his heart, his veins, his skin, all of it so suddenly stricken bitter and dead with the imagined loss that it took his breath away. He was aware that sounds around him receded. The TV, the patrons, the spikes of laughter and tinkling glass were all dulled around their edges and suddenly the racing beat of his own heart superseded it all. He sat very still, stricken with an eventuality he might not be able to avoid. He needed to get up...move.
“Beer?” he muttered, downing the dregs of his own in one quick gulp and bolting out of the booth.
He surprised Sean with his sudden movement and the Englishmen looked up at him, slowing pulling himself free of whatever thoughts he himself had been immersed in.
Viggo stood there at the end of the dark booth, illuminated by the brighter light from the opposite wall. A darkened brass fixture shone light down onto his face, a sad face made even sadder by the unusually bright shine of blue-gray eyes.
Sean’s face spoke of sympathy. Viggo saw pity – and perhaps foreshadowing of what he didn’t want – and anger flared within him. He said nothing, the set of that jaw and the crispness suddenly back in that gaze conveyed his feelings with greater precision and immediacy than words would do. He broke their gaze and headed toward the bar. Sean was left alone.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A few moments later, Viggo was outside, lit cigarette in his mouth as he leaned back against old stone and looked at the night sky, looking for solace on a night that didn’t want to offer any.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Within the bar, Sean still sat where they’d been. He was deep in unproductive thought. With no master plan for avoiding those things he feared, his brain was lost in a frantic angry cycle of stating what it wanted and responding with why it couldn’t possibly be. Sean grunted out loud with his frustration and then slammed back the rest of his beer angrily. When he lowered the glass, he almost set it on the napkin in front of him without thinking. Then he saw the scrawled writing and his hand flattened over it, the dampness of the napkin and his hand allowing shadows of words to transfer to his palm. He picked it up, bringing it closer, and he read snatches of thought, fragments written by his poet. The words trampled all over each other on the small square and then worked their way to the inside where more space had been found.
“First time love...delayed. Hadn’t known how much my soul had shrunk. It has learned to laugh again. This love anticipated but not expected. The lines of long muscles, smooth and pale skin. Quiet peace lying together, surrounded by arms and legs. Strength. Compassion. Respect. Laughter. PARTNERS. A good man, an honorable man. Can love consume fear? Green depth. Light slanting across the green, eyes half-closed. In ecstasy? In fear? Signaling that I should go? Or come closer?
Sean closed his eyes against sudden hurt. He looked around instinctively, wanting to have Viggo close to him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
In the quiet night outside, Viggo heard a sudden burst of laughter and chatter and bar noises as the pub door pushed open and three women tumbled out, all long hair and commotion as they talked. One of them was turned back toward the other two as she relayed some story, hands moving in conjunction with her words. They were giggling and chattering animatedly about something and Viggo let himself be distracted from his thoughts by their energy After a few seconds, he realized that the girl with her back to him was Maritza. She had not yet noticed him although the other two women had, as evidenced by pouty, provocative flirting suddenly directed his way. Viggo smiled politely and stubbed out his cigarette, heading back into the pub. As he moved past the group of women, Maritza followed her friend’s interested gazes until her eyes met Viggo’s. With a sudden scornful look at him, she turned back to her friends, whispering something in a dramatic fashion as she shot a glance or two back over her shoulder at him. Viggo let it go, truly not caring what she thought of him or was undoubtedly telling her friends. He ignored her and passed through the doorway, stopping at the bar for two fresh beers, impulsively buying a red rose from the nodding vendor.
Viggo was smiling inwardly, knowing that Sean would be embarrassed by the simple gesture but also hoping that it would serve as a lighthearted way to apologize for bolting, easing them into the conversations they needed to have. They’d both been sidestepping the issues, not facing their fears. It was time to decide how to make it right. Viggo hoped fervently that what was right for Sean was them being together. He knew there was no other answer for him. His brain was churning though these thoughts as he approached their booth, a beer in each hand and a long, red-stemmed rose clenched between his teeth. Sean’s back was to him, his head bent over something in front of him. Viggo stopped at the end of the table, startling Sean who looked up to see the other man waggling his eyebrows suggestively as he fought a grin around the rose. Sean laughed out loud, reaching up to take the flower and a beer as Viggo slid back into his seat. Once across from his lover, Viggo could see a faint blush across Sean’s cheeks as he laid the rose down in front of him.
Viggo noted at once that Sean held the napkin under his other hand and he regretted having left it there. What he’d been writing were raw thoughts and not necessarily something he would have shared yet. Sean lifted his hand, allowing his eyes to sweep over the words again before he looked up with a gaze more warm and certain than he’d looked for a long time.
“Come closer,” he whispered huskily. “Closer.”
With that, his hands grabbed Viggo’s over the hard tabletop and he pulled the other man closer in the darkness, kissing him rapturously, deeply and hungrily, one of his hands leaving one of Viggo’s to pull the other man closer still. The smell of roses permeated their booth as red petals were crushed under elbows fighting for a purchase on the expanse between them.
SPARRING PARTNERS - PART 17
Be warned -- it's Viggo and Bean. And it's gonna get angsty, folks! I really 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? Angsty, I suppose.
Disclaimer: The thoughts and feelings may 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
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
They walked closely together along dark streets, heading to the pub. They didn’t touch but a comfortable silence cocooned them. The streets were quiet and lonely and they enjoyed the peacefulness of the walk together.
Soon enough they were at the pub, slipping in and stopping at the bar for a couple of beers. Taking their drinks, they headed to their regular booth. The pub was subdued tonight, the crowd a small and quiet one largely preoccupied with a football match they were watching on the television. As they sat, Sean automatically took the bench that would have him facing the TV, already scanning to catch up on the game. Viggo slid in on the opposite side, facing Sean and the main seating area beyond him.
In the darkness of the booth, their hands found each other's on the tabletop, fingers entwining and stroking. Both men allowed the uninvolved simplicity of the setting to sink into them, finding solace in just sitting in the relative quiet, occasionally meeting each other’s gaze or getting caught studying the other. Sean settled his booted feet on the bench opposite, the side of a shoe resting against Viggo’s jean-clad thigh. Viggo’s free hand worked its way to Sean’s naked ankle, touching the warm skin and rubbing along the strong prominent bones there. Sean was beginning to relax, happy to get lost in the game and a pint with his best mate. “And then some”, he mentally added.
He was watching Viggo now, half-listening to the match, amused to see that the Dane had found a pen somewhere along the way and was busily scrawling on a bar napkin, totally absorbed. Sean cleared his throat deliberately once, twice and then a third louder time before Viggo heard him and looked up. Sean smiled happily at him and looked pointedly down at the paper under Viggo’s pen, a questioning expression on his face as he looked up at his lover again. Viggo looked a bit embarrassed and he shrugged, dipping his chin downward.
“Just thoughts,” he said. “Things I don't want to forget.”
His words hinted at a sadness not yet come to pass and their eyes met again. Sean was the first to break their gaze, looking down as he tightened his lips and exhaled silently through his nose. Viggo watched him still, seeing the already hooded green eyes now totally hidden from him as they closed against the world. For just a moment, Viggo’s mind raced ahead on their unsure path and he felt ice crunching and crushing through his heart, his veins, his skin, all of it so suddenly stricken bitter and dead with the imagined loss that it took his breath away. He was aware that sounds around him receded. The TV, the patrons, the spikes of laughter and tinkling glass were all dulled around their edges and suddenly the racing beat of his own heart superseded it all. He sat very still, stricken with an eventuality he might not be able to avoid. He needed to get up...move.
“Beer?” he muttered, downing the dregs of his own in one quick gulp and bolting out of the booth.
He surprised Sean with his sudden movement and the Englishmen looked up at him, slowing pulling himself free of whatever thoughts he himself had been immersed in.
Viggo stood there at the end of the dark booth, illuminated by the brighter light from the opposite wall. A darkened brass fixture shone light down onto his face, a sad face made even sadder by the unusually bright shine of blue-gray eyes.
Sean’s face spoke of sympathy. Viggo saw pity – and perhaps foreshadowing of what he didn’t want – and anger flared within him. He said nothing, the set of that jaw and the crispness suddenly back in that gaze conveyed his feelings with greater precision and immediacy than words would do. He broke their gaze and headed toward the bar. Sean was left alone.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A few moments later, Viggo was outside, lit cigarette in his mouth as he leaned back against old stone and looked at the night sky, looking for solace on a night that didn’t want to offer any.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Within the bar, Sean still sat where they’d been. He was deep in unproductive thought. With no master plan for avoiding those things he feared, his brain was lost in a frantic angry cycle of stating what it wanted and responding with why it couldn’t possibly be. Sean grunted out loud with his frustration and then slammed back the rest of his beer angrily. When he lowered the glass, he almost set it on the napkin in front of him without thinking. Then he saw the scrawled writing and his hand flattened over it, the dampness of the napkin and his hand allowing shadows of words to transfer to his palm. He picked it up, bringing it closer, and he read snatches of thought, fragments written by his poet. The words trampled all over each other on the small square and then worked their way to the inside where more space had been found.
“First time love...delayed. Hadn’t known how much my soul had shrunk. It has learned to laugh again. This love anticipated but not expected. The lines of long muscles, smooth and pale skin. Quiet peace lying together, surrounded by arms and legs. Strength. Compassion. Respect. Laughter. PARTNERS. A good man, an honorable man. Can love consume fear? Green depth. Light slanting across the green, eyes half-closed. In ecstasy? In fear? Signaling that I should go? Or come closer?
Sean closed his eyes against sudden hurt. He looked around instinctively, wanting to have Viggo close to him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
In the quiet night outside, Viggo heard a sudden burst of laughter and chatter and bar noises as the pub door pushed open and three women tumbled out, all long hair and commotion as they talked. One of them was turned back toward the other two as she relayed some story, hands moving in conjunction with her words. They were giggling and chattering animatedly about something and Viggo let himself be distracted from his thoughts by their energy After a few seconds, he realized that the girl with her back to him was Maritza. She had not yet noticed him although the other two women had, as evidenced by pouty, provocative flirting suddenly directed his way. Viggo smiled politely and stubbed out his cigarette, heading back into the pub. As he moved past the group of women, Maritza followed her friend’s interested gazes until her eyes met Viggo’s. With a sudden scornful look at him, she turned back to her friends, whispering something in a dramatic fashion as she shot a glance or two back over her shoulder at him. Viggo let it go, truly not caring what she thought of him or was undoubtedly telling her friends. He ignored her and passed through the doorway, stopping at the bar for two fresh beers, impulsively buying a red rose from the nodding vendor.
Viggo was smiling inwardly, knowing that Sean would be embarrassed by the simple gesture but also hoping that it would serve as a lighthearted way to apologize for bolting, easing them into the conversations they needed to have. They’d both been sidestepping the issues, not facing their fears. It was time to decide how to make it right. Viggo hoped fervently that what was right for Sean was them being together. He knew there was no other answer for him. His brain was churning though these thoughts as he approached their booth, a beer in each hand and a long, red-stemmed rose clenched between his teeth. Sean’s back was to him, his head bent over something in front of him. Viggo stopped at the end of the table, startling Sean who looked up to see the other man waggling his eyebrows suggestively as he fought a grin around the rose. Sean laughed out loud, reaching up to take the flower and a beer as Viggo slid back into his seat. Once across from his lover, Viggo could see a faint blush across Sean’s cheeks as he laid the rose down in front of him.
Viggo noted at once that Sean held the napkin under his other hand and he regretted having left it there. What he’d been writing were raw thoughts and not necessarily something he would have shared yet. Sean lifted his hand, allowing his eyes to sweep over the words again before he looked up with a gaze more warm and certain than he’d looked for a long time.
“Come closer,” he whispered huskily. “Closer.”
With that, his hands grabbed Viggo’s over the hard tabletop and he pulled the other man closer in the darkness, kissing him rapturously, deeply and hungrily, one of his hands leaving one of Viggo’s to pull the other man closer still. The smell of roses permeated their booth as red petals were crushed under elbows fighting for a purchase on the expanse between them.
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Date: 2005-06-24 12:03 pm (UTC)Angie
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Date: 2005-06-27 10:33 pm (UTC)