(Drabble) Sonnet 155 (VM/SB)
Oct. 21st, 2005 10:43 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
konishi-zen.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rugbytackleJust a little B-day drabbleish thing for Viggo Mortensen. Cheers dude! You're amazing in every way.
Sonnet 155
Disclaimers: Don't own, don't make any claims this is real. Prose is mine.
Pairing: Vgbean.
Warning/rating: None. Sap, I would assume. Rating's about a pg.
x-posted to rugbytackle and fellowshippers. At my LJ others ask
Summary: I have finished reading Neil Gaiman's Sonnet and that coupled with getting my tea and being reminded once again how lovely my friends are made me write this. He.
The notebook lay open on his desk and Sean stared at the blank pages numbly. It felt like his mind was as bare as the paper in front of him and that made him feel kind of morose.
He had wanted to get up in the chilly October dawn and surprise him. It was true that he wasn't much of a writer, but he felt that today he really could manage to capture the essence of his emotions into words and be able to present them to the one person that made him feel as if a piece of summer could always be carried in his soul, warming him up no matter where he went.
In a sense, he wanted to have tangible proof of his love. He knew that love wasn't about giving gifts and mouthing time worn cliches over and over again. Or leaving scraps of paper lying about the place with placating, pretty and flimsy words on them.
He was more direct, saying it with his body, saying it with his eyes.
But sometimes, he worried if that was enough, so he decided to write.
But the words wouldn't come.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
He looked up and smiled at the man standing in the door-way, wearing nothing but ragged and worn jeans. The faint yellow light shone in the reddish tones of his hair and brought out the golden glow of skin while darkening his eyes to pools of Arctic water. Seeing him like that simply made his breath catch in his throat.
As he watched him lazily walk towards him with that hunter's gait, he understood that although his efforts had been noble, he had been missing the point. Love wasn't an ideal, nor something to be crystallized in time. Love was flowing and changing, as primal as life itself. Love was companionship. Love was...
Sean stood up and pulled him close, smiling slightly as the man watched him with eyes that simmered with the beginnings of passion that would be quickly fanned to flames in their warm bed.
"Happy Birthday Vig."
Viggo's eyes flared with a quiet light before the passion was back.
"Let's go back to bed."
End
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no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 02:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 03:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 04:06 am (UTC)"to the one person that made him feel as if a piece of summer could always be carried in his soul, warming him up no matter where he went."
Thanks for writing it
no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 04:17 am (UTC)You're welcome.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 11:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-22 11:39 am (UTC)*grins* Yeah. It was, as you can totally guess, a fic that drew inspiration from RL.
Glad you liked it.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 03:20 pm (UTC)Beautiful. Forget poetry; Sean has just the perfect way to express his love :). I enjoyed it very much.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-22 11:40 am (UTC)Thank you and glad you enjoyed it.
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Date: 2005-10-23 03:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-23 11:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-23 04:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-23 11:53 pm (UTC)