The Picture
Nov. 6th, 2005 03:01 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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rugbytackleTitle: The Picture
Pairing:SB/VM
Rating: R
Archive: rugbytackle
Summary: Sometimes it’s hard to speak your mind..
This story was inspired by a picture: a manipulated picture made by the wonderful NEVANOON here on LJ
Since this is my first entry and English is not my first language: please forgive me my mistakes!
The usual disclaimers apply. This is written for fun, not profit. I do not know Sean or Viggo and have no idea what they get up to in their spare time.
Sean;
I wake up like I always seem to do these days: thinking of Viggo. It was great yesterday night at his place. He said he wanted to give me a party before I leave to India shooting Sharpe. It might be a long time before I’ll be back in L.A. and he managed to get quite a lot of my Ring mates gathered.
Elijah, Billy, Dom, Ian came over and even Orlando could squeeze some time in between two films and it was wonderful seeing them.
But in all honesty, if only to myself: since I am leaving I would have preferred to spent the time with Viggo alone.
Of course he doesn’t know that, though I wonder sometimes. Viggo is a very perceptive man and very broad minded too: I don’t think it would bother him.
From the first time I laid eyes upon him, I felt attracted, but going through the ruins of a third marriage does that sometimes. Just because you’re lonesome or sad.
And he became a very close friend. No good ruining that. I’ve learnt the hard way not to get involved with co-stars, certainly not male!
The attraction stayed, but I could live with that, thinking it would die when we left.
And I found a new love and another and yet another. I am hopeless in relationships, so it seems. Thank God I am a better father than a husband.
The friendship we had never quite lost it’s magic touch and we did meet between films whenever we could. Sometimes we just wrote a card or made a phone call, but I thought of him a lot.
Perhaps it would have stayed like that when I hadn’t seen that picture.
It was on my birthday, months ago now. A couple of friends gave it to me. A framed picture of Viggo and me. Both naked, Viggo leaning against the wall and me kissing him. Manipulated of course, but very good. It seemed very real and everybody in the room was laughing and whistling and making jokes.
But I felt a jolt going through my body and my throat went dry. I had to sit down and hold the damned thing on my lap, so they wouldn’t see how hard I was in my tight jeans.
I took it with me all over the world since then. Wondered if I should show it to Viggo.
Would he laugh about it? Probably.
I didn’t dare, but every time I met him I felt a lot like pinning him at a wall and make love to him. It was easier meeting him somewhere outdoors. No walls…….
I began dreaming of him even when I was awake. How he would feel. How it would feel to fuck a man. Or being fucked.
And it got worse and worse. I guess it’s a good thing I am going to India, perhaps the training they’ll let me do will get my mind off him. I’ll have to make an honest effort to look 13 years younger and the way I’ve lived the last 13 years do show.
But when I left his house yesterday, Orlando and Billy insisting on driving me home, Viggo grabbed me by the arm and asked me to come back tonight. Because he wanted to see me once more. To help finish the leftovers he said.
So tonight I’ll see him again.
Viggo;
So I blew it again last night. I’ve planned it carefully this time: having you over, a nice dinner and then ask him about it. And then Elijah rang and asked how you were. And stupid fuck I was, I told him you were coming. So he invited himself and the rest of Middle Earth.
I couldn’t say no: I love those guys.
So they were here. And they were all over you and I just waited till they went. But they took you with them. So I still don’t know the answer to my question and another sleepless night to look forward to. That’s why I grabbed your wrist, asking you to come back tonight: my eyes focussed on Orlando, silently begging him to stay out. And he did for once.
Many years I’ve been craving for you Sean, from the very start. But I always felt your resistance. Waving your masculinity like a flag, even when you were going through that dreadful divorce and we talked until we saw the sun coming up.
And you were so hurt: I remembered how it feels, losing your ground. Afraid of losing your children. Another failure and I just tried to be your friend.
We can fool our brains and I told myself I was over it, was completely happy with having you as my friend. But the body can be fooled Sean and I found myself staring hungrily at you.
Doing Boromir’s dead scene was probably worst: lying on top of you, trying to think of things I disgust. Using all off my acting skills to fool you, but again my body didn’t cooperate.
I spent all afternoon trying to keep my lower body a few inches away from you.
And then Peter wanted me to kiss you. On the forehead….The tears I shed were for real then Sean. And they were all for Sean, not for Boromir.
So I was happy and sad when you left. Happy because it was for the best and sad because I didn’t want to let you go.
At least you kissed me then, on the cheek. And how I missed you.
Through the years we saw each other not that often, but I never got over it.
I even read the gossips about you: some young girlfriend and another one. I was jealous.
Then you stayed with me in Idaho for a few days and you talked about Georgina. How sweet she was and how gorgeous. Another actress Sean? Will you ever learn? Guess not.
When you went to town to get some shopping that last day I went to your room and just lied on your bed. Trying to catch your smell. And then I saw it. A framed picture sticking out of your suitcase. It made me mad that you took a picture of the girl to my place.
But I still wanted to see her. I am not proud to say this, but I took the picture and turned it around and the world started turning.
And now this picture is haunting me for months Sean. What’s with it? Why do you carry it around? Is it to mock me? Or is it because you want to show it to me and are afraid to insult me? Or is it because you actually like it, love it, want it like I want it?
I’ve waited for you to tell me, but you never did. And I find myself leaning at the wall whenever you’re around, hoping to provoke you.
But I am done: I can’t do this any longer.
I’ll see you tonight, I’ll ask you tonight.
Viggo;
I am in the kitchen, with the lights out. I’ve seen Sean arriving and he’s just sitting in his car. He takes his time and when he finally gets out I notice he carries a plastic bag.
He sits on the couch and we’re having a drink and we talk. He seems nervous and tensed. He’s wearing a green shirt what matches his eyes and those tight jeans again.
I actually caught myself thinking what I would wear this afternoon. Haven’t done that in years.
I wonder what is in the bag. He has put it down next to the couch . It’s looks a lot like a framed picture or painting and I can’t help wondering if it’s the picture I think it is.
If so, will he tell me the story about it.
He talks a lot, small talk, about Orlando, Ian and India.
What always happens when he’s either very concentrated or nervous happens now. His tongue keeps slipping out wetting his lips. I can’t count the times seeing him do that, knowing it’s not on purpose, but always making me think where I would like to have that tongue.
I listen to him talking about being from home with Christmas, waiting for him to stop talking so I can ask him about the picture, when suddenly he says right in the middle of a sentence:
“ I am very much in love with you, you know”
His face is flushed, his hands are shaking, but his voice is steady and clear, his eyes never leaving mine.
I blink, can’t believe my ears and I must look dazed, because he says it again.
“I am very much in love with you. You can kick me out if you want to, but I can no longer be silent. I’ve carried this around the world with me the last month and I just can’t get it out of my system.”
He grabs the bag and shows me the picture I know so well.
“Do you despise me now Viggo?”
Sean;
So here I am, parked in front of Viggo’s house. Luckily the kitchen is dark and I can linger a little longer here. Though I brought the picture I am not sure what to do. Should I bring it in and when I don’t have to courage to fucking speak my mind to Viggo show him the thing?
Or should I leave it in the car and fetch it later. But I’ll never do it then, I know.
And I can’t go to India and leave it, not anymore.
This afternoon I was so certain of what to do. Just go in and confront him and even if he’d hit me or show me the door I would at least have tried.
I don’t want him as my friend anymore : I want him as my lover.
Here: that’s a beautiful line, now go in and say that one to him the minute you come in!
Come on, you’re an actor, you can do this!
Picking up my courage, together with the bag containing the picture I enter his house.
And of course I never say those words, just sit down at his bumpy couch, hoping he will sit next to me at least. And he does. He’s pouring me some Scotch and I am clinging to my glass.
I see him peer at the bag as if I got a cobra hidden in there, I hold my breath, but he asks me nothing.
He lets me do all the work, he’s very silent, even for Viggo and I hear myself talking.
His eyes, he’s got beautiful eyes, look right into mine. When he’s silent like today he’s mostly absent minded, but his steady gaze shows me he’s not.
I look at him, his beautiful face, lower my gaze and see he’s wearing his favourite Tee, worn out by the neck, because he’s always fidgeting at the hem.
What I wouldn’t give to lick that neck, to kiss that Adam’s apple, to bite that tendon. Bend him, so he’ll bare his throat for me and all the time I keep talking about Orlando and India.
Suddenly I see he’s no longer looking in my eyes: he’s looking at my lips and I realize my tongue is out again. It’s an old habit and I do it unconsciously. In some films they want me to do it on purpose and you could always tell it’s not real.
I’ve cursed myself a lot when I saw pictures, looks rather silly. I do it when I am tensed or really getting in my role…….or when I am sexually aroused.
And in the middle of my banter I hear myself saying:
“ I am very much in love with you, you know”
Viggo looks really confused and I can’t blame him, he blinks so I try to make myself clear:
“I am very much in love with you. You can kick me out if you want to, but I can no longer be silent. I’ve carried this around the world with me the last month and I just can’t get it out of my system.”
My hands are shaking but I manage to look him straight in the eye and make myself audible at the least.
I take the bag and show him the picture and I ask him:
“Do you despise me now Viggo?”
Before I know it he slides from the couch, his fingers curling on the hem of his tee and then he takes it of. In one swift movement he stands at the wall, bringing his hands up, arching his back in the same wonderful way he does in that picture.
So I stand up, loose my shirt and walk up to him, finding the courage to speak again.
“I just want to kiss you here, this way, kiss you and show you….Then I want to lie in your bed and make love to you with all I’ve got to give. I don’t know how to do it, because I’ve never been with a man, but I’ll learn. And I’ll be yours, like you’ll be mine.”
And I just smile at him, grab his wrists and lean in to kiss him.
The End
Pairing:SB/VM
Rating: R
Archive: rugbytackle
Summary: Sometimes it’s hard to speak your mind..
This story was inspired by a picture: a manipulated picture made by the wonderful NEVANOON here on LJ
Since this is my first entry and English is not my first language: please forgive me my mistakes!
The usual disclaimers apply. This is written for fun, not profit. I do not know Sean or Viggo and have no idea what they get up to in their spare time.
Sean;
I wake up like I always seem to do these days: thinking of Viggo. It was great yesterday night at his place. He said he wanted to give me a party before I leave to India shooting Sharpe. It might be a long time before I’ll be back in L.A. and he managed to get quite a lot of my Ring mates gathered.
Elijah, Billy, Dom, Ian came over and even Orlando could squeeze some time in between two films and it was wonderful seeing them.
But in all honesty, if only to myself: since I am leaving I would have preferred to spent the time with Viggo alone.
Of course he doesn’t know that, though I wonder sometimes. Viggo is a very perceptive man and very broad minded too: I don’t think it would bother him.
From the first time I laid eyes upon him, I felt attracted, but going through the ruins of a third marriage does that sometimes. Just because you’re lonesome or sad.
And he became a very close friend. No good ruining that. I’ve learnt the hard way not to get involved with co-stars, certainly not male!
The attraction stayed, but I could live with that, thinking it would die when we left.
And I found a new love and another and yet another. I am hopeless in relationships, so it seems. Thank God I am a better father than a husband.
The friendship we had never quite lost it’s magic touch and we did meet between films whenever we could. Sometimes we just wrote a card or made a phone call, but I thought of him a lot.
Perhaps it would have stayed like that when I hadn’t seen that picture.
It was on my birthday, months ago now. A couple of friends gave it to me. A framed picture of Viggo and me. Both naked, Viggo leaning against the wall and me kissing him. Manipulated of course, but very good. It seemed very real and everybody in the room was laughing and whistling and making jokes.
But I felt a jolt going through my body and my throat went dry. I had to sit down and hold the damned thing on my lap, so they wouldn’t see how hard I was in my tight jeans.
I took it with me all over the world since then. Wondered if I should show it to Viggo.
Would he laugh about it? Probably.
I didn’t dare, but every time I met him I felt a lot like pinning him at a wall and make love to him. It was easier meeting him somewhere outdoors. No walls…….
I began dreaming of him even when I was awake. How he would feel. How it would feel to fuck a man. Or being fucked.
And it got worse and worse. I guess it’s a good thing I am going to India, perhaps the training they’ll let me do will get my mind off him. I’ll have to make an honest effort to look 13 years younger and the way I’ve lived the last 13 years do show.
But when I left his house yesterday, Orlando and Billy insisting on driving me home, Viggo grabbed me by the arm and asked me to come back tonight. Because he wanted to see me once more. To help finish the leftovers he said.
So tonight I’ll see him again.
Viggo;
So I blew it again last night. I’ve planned it carefully this time: having you over, a nice dinner and then ask him about it. And then Elijah rang and asked how you were. And stupid fuck I was, I told him you were coming. So he invited himself and the rest of Middle Earth.
I couldn’t say no: I love those guys.
So they were here. And they were all over you and I just waited till they went. But they took you with them. So I still don’t know the answer to my question and another sleepless night to look forward to. That’s why I grabbed your wrist, asking you to come back tonight: my eyes focussed on Orlando, silently begging him to stay out. And he did for once.
Many years I’ve been craving for you Sean, from the very start. But I always felt your resistance. Waving your masculinity like a flag, even when you were going through that dreadful divorce and we talked until we saw the sun coming up.
And you were so hurt: I remembered how it feels, losing your ground. Afraid of losing your children. Another failure and I just tried to be your friend.
We can fool our brains and I told myself I was over it, was completely happy with having you as my friend. But the body can be fooled Sean and I found myself staring hungrily at you.
Doing Boromir’s dead scene was probably worst: lying on top of you, trying to think of things I disgust. Using all off my acting skills to fool you, but again my body didn’t cooperate.
I spent all afternoon trying to keep my lower body a few inches away from you.
And then Peter wanted me to kiss you. On the forehead….The tears I shed were for real then Sean. And they were all for Sean, not for Boromir.
So I was happy and sad when you left. Happy because it was for the best and sad because I didn’t want to let you go.
At least you kissed me then, on the cheek. And how I missed you.
Through the years we saw each other not that often, but I never got over it.
I even read the gossips about you: some young girlfriend and another one. I was jealous.
Then you stayed with me in Idaho for a few days and you talked about Georgina. How sweet she was and how gorgeous. Another actress Sean? Will you ever learn? Guess not.
When you went to town to get some shopping that last day I went to your room and just lied on your bed. Trying to catch your smell. And then I saw it. A framed picture sticking out of your suitcase. It made me mad that you took a picture of the girl to my place.
But I still wanted to see her. I am not proud to say this, but I took the picture and turned it around and the world started turning.
And now this picture is haunting me for months Sean. What’s with it? Why do you carry it around? Is it to mock me? Or is it because you want to show it to me and are afraid to insult me? Or is it because you actually like it, love it, want it like I want it?
I’ve waited for you to tell me, but you never did. And I find myself leaning at the wall whenever you’re around, hoping to provoke you.
But I am done: I can’t do this any longer.
I’ll see you tonight, I’ll ask you tonight.
Viggo;
I am in the kitchen, with the lights out. I’ve seen Sean arriving and he’s just sitting in his car. He takes his time and when he finally gets out I notice he carries a plastic bag.
He sits on the couch and we’re having a drink and we talk. He seems nervous and tensed. He’s wearing a green shirt what matches his eyes and those tight jeans again.
I actually caught myself thinking what I would wear this afternoon. Haven’t done that in years.
I wonder what is in the bag. He has put it down next to the couch . It’s looks a lot like a framed picture or painting and I can’t help wondering if it’s the picture I think it is.
If so, will he tell me the story about it.
He talks a lot, small talk, about Orlando, Ian and India.
What always happens when he’s either very concentrated or nervous happens now. His tongue keeps slipping out wetting his lips. I can’t count the times seeing him do that, knowing it’s not on purpose, but always making me think where I would like to have that tongue.
I listen to him talking about being from home with Christmas, waiting for him to stop talking so I can ask him about the picture, when suddenly he says right in the middle of a sentence:
“ I am very much in love with you, you know”
His face is flushed, his hands are shaking, but his voice is steady and clear, his eyes never leaving mine.
I blink, can’t believe my ears and I must look dazed, because he says it again.
“I am very much in love with you. You can kick me out if you want to, but I can no longer be silent. I’ve carried this around the world with me the last month and I just can’t get it out of my system.”
He grabs the bag and shows me the picture I know so well.
“Do you despise me now Viggo?”
Sean;
So here I am, parked in front of Viggo’s house. Luckily the kitchen is dark and I can linger a little longer here. Though I brought the picture I am not sure what to do. Should I bring it in and when I don’t have to courage to fucking speak my mind to Viggo show him the thing?
Or should I leave it in the car and fetch it later. But I’ll never do it then, I know.
And I can’t go to India and leave it, not anymore.
This afternoon I was so certain of what to do. Just go in and confront him and even if he’d hit me or show me the door I would at least have tried.
I don’t want him as my friend anymore : I want him as my lover.
Here: that’s a beautiful line, now go in and say that one to him the minute you come in!
Come on, you’re an actor, you can do this!
Picking up my courage, together with the bag containing the picture I enter his house.
And of course I never say those words, just sit down at his bumpy couch, hoping he will sit next to me at least. And he does. He’s pouring me some Scotch and I am clinging to my glass.
I see him peer at the bag as if I got a cobra hidden in there, I hold my breath, but he asks me nothing.
He lets me do all the work, he’s very silent, even for Viggo and I hear myself talking.
His eyes, he’s got beautiful eyes, look right into mine. When he’s silent like today he’s mostly absent minded, but his steady gaze shows me he’s not.
I look at him, his beautiful face, lower my gaze and see he’s wearing his favourite Tee, worn out by the neck, because he’s always fidgeting at the hem.
What I wouldn’t give to lick that neck, to kiss that Adam’s apple, to bite that tendon. Bend him, so he’ll bare his throat for me and all the time I keep talking about Orlando and India.
Suddenly I see he’s no longer looking in my eyes: he’s looking at my lips and I realize my tongue is out again. It’s an old habit and I do it unconsciously. In some films they want me to do it on purpose and you could always tell it’s not real.
I’ve cursed myself a lot when I saw pictures, looks rather silly. I do it when I am tensed or really getting in my role…….or when I am sexually aroused.
And in the middle of my banter I hear myself saying:
“ I am very much in love with you, you know”
Viggo looks really confused and I can’t blame him, he blinks so I try to make myself clear:
“I am very much in love with you. You can kick me out if you want to, but I can no longer be silent. I’ve carried this around the world with me the last month and I just can’t get it out of my system.”
My hands are shaking but I manage to look him straight in the eye and make myself audible at the least.
I take the bag and show him the picture and I ask him:
“Do you despise me now Viggo?”
Before I know it he slides from the couch, his fingers curling on the hem of his tee and then he takes it of. In one swift movement he stands at the wall, bringing his hands up, arching his back in the same wonderful way he does in that picture.
So I stand up, loose my shirt and walk up to him, finding the courage to speak again.
“I just want to kiss you here, this way, kiss you and show you….Then I want to lie in your bed and make love to you with all I’ve got to give. I don’t know how to do it, because I’ve never been with a man, but I’ll learn. And I’ll be yours, like you’ll be mine.”
And I just smile at him, grab his wrists and lean in to kiss him.
The End
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Date: 2005-11-06 03:38 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2005-11-06 05:49 pm (UTC)http://www.livejournal.com/users/rotpunkt/17001.html#cutid1
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Date: 2005-11-06 05:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 06:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 06:20 pm (UTC)Hello
Date: 2005-11-06 06:31 pm (UTC)Re: Hello
Date: 2005-11-07 06:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 08:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 06:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 09:38 pm (UTC)thank you for sharing with us! ♥
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Date: 2005-11-07 06:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 09:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 06:25 am (UTC)Great!
Date: 2005-11-06 11:46 pm (UTC)I want to read your other works, please write more.(^^
And thank you rotpunkt for sharing the beautiful manip nevanoon made. I love it too.
Re: Great!
Date: 2005-11-07 06:27 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2005-11-07 06:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 05:27 pm (UTC)Thanks for writing and sharing! :)
When I'd finished reading I thought that this would perfectly fit one of my manips, the one I did for
Don't know why I scrolled back to the top of the page but suddenly I discovered my name... Gaah, what an idiot I am - I didn't read the disclaimer carefully, so I simply missed the fact this story has been inspired by exactly that pic...
I'm going senile...
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Date: 2005-11-07 05:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 10:19 pm (UTC)Ik dank u zeer!
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Date: 2005-11-07 07:23 pm (UTC)I hope you're feeling encouraged now to keep writing, with all the comments you've received. I'm certainly looking forward to more!
xx
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Date: 2005-11-07 08:46 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2005-11-13 06:03 am (UTC)