Drabbles -- Viggo/Sean
May. 9th, 2003 11:20 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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rugbytackleBecause crossposting has been called for, here's a few drabbles resulting from the 'Sins' challenge over at
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lotrips100 Here follows the sins of Wrath, Pride and Sloth.
Disclaimer: This is complete fiction.
“Burn” – for Wrath
His mood was dry gunpowder and his lover’s voice was the match.
“Sean?”
Flaring into heat he rounded on Viggo, sick of hearing the excuses and calm reasoning, ready to lay some truth down between them.
He shouted, the flame inside becoming a wildfire that seared and burned and so he shouted louder, ranted, gave free reign to the dark well of emotion blazing through him until he stood breathless and sweating, voice hoarse.
Viggo looked him in the eye, understanding. “Aragorn won’t forget his promise.”
Sean nodded, reassured, felt Boromir’s burn fade.
If anyone knew Aragorn, it’d be Viggo.
***
"State of Affairs" -- for Sloth
Viggo lay atop Sean, thinking about their state of affairs. Clothes littered the floor, a lamp lay broken, and the smell of sweat and strawberries was interesting if not particularly pleasant. All the bed sheets were soiled, including the spare sets, and they were out of chocolate syrup.
Sean snored soundly underneath him and Viggo mused that he must be uncomfortable lying naked atop the stripped mattress, arms stretched over his head, wrists tried securely to wooden bedposts.
Viggo thought he should untie Sean, get a shower, clean, but that required movement.
Instead, Viggo stretched, yawned, and went back sleep.
***
"Practice" -- for Pride
Viggo hammers his blade down, slapping aside his opponent’s. Sean drops back a step, countering with furious slashes that leaves Viggo breathless and retreating. But Viggo never retreats without reason and when Sean gains ground, careless in his victory, Viggo allows it.
Lightening fast Viggo thrusts, seemingly miscalculates. Together they tumble to the trampled grass, Sean emerging on top, his blade at Viggo’s throat. Heat. Sweat. Steel. Defiant green eyes blaze.
“You lose. You’ll never have me.”
Sean pushes away. Viggo watches his confident departure, allows an arrogant smile. Viggo never retreats without reason, and he always gets his prey.
lotrips100 Here follows the sins of Wrath, Pride and Sloth. Disclaimer: This is complete fiction.
“Burn” – for Wrath
His mood was dry gunpowder and his lover’s voice was the match.
“Sean?”
Flaring into heat he rounded on Viggo, sick of hearing the excuses and calm reasoning, ready to lay some truth down between them.
He shouted, the flame inside becoming a wildfire that seared and burned and so he shouted louder, ranted, gave free reign to the dark well of emotion blazing through him until he stood breathless and sweating, voice hoarse.
Viggo looked him in the eye, understanding. “Aragorn won’t forget his promise.”
Sean nodded, reassured, felt Boromir’s burn fade.
If anyone knew Aragorn, it’d be Viggo.
***
"State of Affairs" -- for Sloth
Viggo lay atop Sean, thinking about their state of affairs. Clothes littered the floor, a lamp lay broken, and the smell of sweat and strawberries was interesting if not particularly pleasant. All the bed sheets were soiled, including the spare sets, and they were out of chocolate syrup.
Sean snored soundly underneath him and Viggo mused that he must be uncomfortable lying naked atop the stripped mattress, arms stretched over his head, wrists tried securely to wooden bedposts.
Viggo thought he should untie Sean, get a shower, clean, but that required movement.
Instead, Viggo stretched, yawned, and went back sleep.
***
"Practice" -- for Pride
Viggo hammers his blade down, slapping aside his opponent’s. Sean drops back a step, countering with furious slashes that leaves Viggo breathless and retreating. But Viggo never retreats without reason and when Sean gains ground, careless in his victory, Viggo allows it.
Lightening fast Viggo thrusts, seemingly miscalculates. Together they tumble to the trampled grass, Sean emerging on top, his blade at Viggo’s throat. Heat. Sweat. Steel. Defiant green eyes blaze.
“You lose. You’ll never have me.”
Sean pushes away. Viggo watches his confident departure, allows an arrogant smile. Viggo never retreats without reason, and he always gets his prey.
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no subject
Date: 2003-05-10 08:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-10 09:49 pm (UTC)Though I agree that being out of chocolate syrup is a major crisis!
It's no wonder that Viggo's new pet name for Sean is Coco Bean. *g*
no subject
Date: 2003-05-11 11:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-11 09:31 pm (UTC)