Happy New Year Fic
Jan. 5th, 2004 10:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moldavaI'm all for starting the new year with fun and silliness, so this is my way to wish all my friends a belated Happy New Year
and before you all start clamoring for more, there is a follow-up in the making but right now we're stuck under a park bench (don't ask me how we got there *evil grin*)
Title: Wild thing
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moldava
Pairing: SB/VM
Rating: R
Feedback: would love it, thanks.
Disclaimer: not mine, only in my dreams
Archive: Rugbytackling; Green Opals
Notes: title and snatches of songs courtesy of The Troggs, RHPS, Steppenwolf and Leonard Cohen
Wild thing
Sean's expression as he set down the phone was not pleased, though in truth he had every reason to be satisfied. He'd just managed to talk Orlando out of another of his crazy bungee jumping expeditions, and that was definitely something to be proud of. The entire production ought to be grateful to him and Sean should be patting himself on the back right now.
But Orlando's parting words had started a chain of similar words echoing in his mind. And he was not particularly pleased with them...
'You're always the voice of reason Sean...'
He remembered something one of his girls had told him yesterday, during their usual phone call...
'Oh dad, you're just so dull and boring...'
And Ian's voice drifted in as well, mocking him a few days before over a pint of ale...
'It's fun teasing you Sean, you're so predictable! One always knows which buttons to push to get a reaction from you...'
Then another voice floated along, one that stung more than any other ever could, its low lazy drawl saying...
'Don't you ever let go Sean? Don't you ever want to do something wild and unexpected? Don't you ever reach out and grab what you want regardless of what people might think?'
Reasonable, boring, predictable...
When had he become like that? Or had he always been like that?
No, he knew that was not true, he knew there had been a time when he was not like that. He could be different still, he was different. Why had he let himself flatten down into routine so much?
He felt rebellious, he felt like this was the time and place to show everyone he could be wild, and reckless, and unpredictable.
He felt like this was the time to show Viggo he could indeed let go, reach out and take what he wanted.
He looked at his khakis and polo shirt and shook his head. They would not do. He went to the bedroom and inspected all his clothes... Comfortable, classic, stylish... 'boring, old-fashioned, predictable' a little voice jeered inside his head.
His face set in a grim expression, he grabbed his car keys and went shopping.
***
Sean stared at himself in the full length mirror.
Black skin-tight jeans and a black t-shirt hugged his body as if they'd been stitched directly on him. His reasonable self warned that after one washing he could probably only fit one arm into the jeans and one finger into the t-shirt. As a matter of fact, he'd probably need scissors to get out of that t-shirt... And as to the pants... Well, he'd better make sure he had someone around tonight to help him get out of them.
But, hell, he looked good, he looked dangerous. And the shop assistant seemed to agree as she insisted on working herself a black leather belt with ornate silverwork through the loops of the jeans waistband.
The look in the girl's eyes was most gratifying to Sean's self-confidence.
He eyed himself again, quite pleased with what he was seeing. He fingered pensively his earlobe... It had been pierced years ago, more or less at the time he'd got his Blades tattoo. Maybe it was time to start wearing an earring again, he thought, planning to visit a jewellers' shop next. And maybe a new aftershave also, one less classic and subdued...
***
When the new wild Sean stopped home to drop his old clothes before heading out to join his cast mates at the pub, like a snake shedding his old skin, his ego had received a huge boost. Several ones actually.
He had under his belt a not-so-covert pass from the girl at the jeans shop, who had kept touching his ass 'to make sure the jeans fit properly'; a series of not-so-subtle innuendos on opening holes and keeping them open from the guy who had re-punched his ear at the jewellers' and helped him select the Nepalese silver earring that now graced his earlobe and the matching silver ring shaped like a serpent for his index finger; and just thinking of the older lady at the cosmetics counter who had insisted that aftershave must be tried directly on a man's own skin and had made sure she touched every single inch of available skin while searching for the perfect match was enough to make him blush.
He had to admit though that each one of them seemed to know what they were doing, judging from the result.
And the new aftershave did smell nice, more spicy and exotic. And there was something decadent about dabbing on aftershave when it was late evening, considering that he'd skipped shaving that morning and was now sporting a sexy five o'clock stubble.
Yess, he purred to himself, he looked as if he'd just got up from bed and was ready for a night on the prowl... Dressed to the nines and ready to kill, and he just knew who the unsuspecting prey would be.
He grabbed an old, worn black leather jacket, a relic from his past, and headed to the pub.
***
Every eye in the pub zeroed in on Sean as he came in, all black and blond, jacket slung nonchalantly over one shoulder, tight shirt, tight jeans, a wild animal strut in his walk.
Lij and Dom let out wolf whistles.
Orli gaped and started to hum an old song, reverently muttering something about wild untamed things and a bee with a deadly sting.
Ian raised both his eyebrows and his glass and gave Sean a thumbs up sign.
The reaction from the audience was gratifying, Sean thought, except from the one specific member of the audience he'd had specifically in mind from the start.
Viggo was seated alone in a booth, his back to the door of the pub.
Sean walked up to him, noting that he was writing something in one of his ubiquitous notepads, an almost empty beer glass in front of him.
"Hey beautiful," Sean drawled, "Is this seat taken? A hunk like you shouldn't be sitting here all alone."
He smiled a 'yes I have a big mouth and aren't you wondering just what I am able to do with it' smile.
Viggo looked up and his eyes widened taking in Sean's attire, his cocky stance. His glance travelled down from the blond tousled hair to the reddish blond stubble, to the ring on Sean's earlobe, just begging to be tugged by teasing teeth. A black t-shirt, so tight it defined each single one of Sean's pectorals and abs. And nipples, oh yes, nipples definitely. It was quite hard to overlook them with the way they were pushing against the soft cotton hugging them.
Viggo's eyes stopped for a moment on the belt... silver and black leather... then moved down the jeans, appreciating the way they moulded Sean's hips and thighs. Not to mention the fact that Sean seemed to have converted to the why-bother-with-underwear school of thinking.
One hell of an inventory, Viggo thought, licking lips that suddenly felt dry.
His gaze travelled up now, as slowly as before, to meet green eyes that glinted like a wild cat's. He realized Sean was still waiting for his reply.
"Yes," he drawled. "The seat's taken, I've been holding it for you ever since we met. Am glad to see you finally felt ready to join me Sean."
Sean grinned, rather wolfishly, and slid inside the booth, surprising Viggo by sitting on his same side instead of in front of him.
The long black-clad thigh pressed against Viggo's one, suddenly enveloping it in heat as a hand dropped on it, long fingers spreading on the worn cloth of Viggo's jeans and finding unerringly the point above the knee where the denim was frayed and cut. An index slid in, poking around like a curious kitten, the silver ring on it scraping tantalizing against Viggo's skin.
Sean bent his head close to Viggo's, drinking in the way his eyes had deepened to a darker blue color, the film of sweat that was now beading his upper lip and the way his nostrils had flared as they caught Sean's spicy scent.
Viggo had tensed as Sean's mouth got close, almost touching his ear. He was waiting for words to be whispered into it, what he got was a sharp bite and his earlobe sucked into Sean's mouth. He jerked like a puppet whose strings had been unexpectedly pulled and moaned.
"Quiet, handsome," the whisper came now, a moist chuckle into Viggo's ear. "We don't want to attract attention, do we?"
Viggo shook his head obediently.
"Good boy," Sean praised, his hand moving slowly from Viggo's knee up along his thigh. "So, do you like my new clothes?" he asked conversationally, his hand stopping to finger the inside seam of Viggo's jeans.
Viggo nodded, then squirmed under the touch, trying to shift and bring Sean's hand higher, to where he needed to feel it most.
"Naughty..." Sean scolded softly, pinching him through the denim. "There's no telling what one like me might do to a naughty boy like you, you know. So, what do you like best about me new clothes?"
Viggo took a deep breath, trying to find his voice. "All of it."
"Oh, come on! You disappoint me, Viggo. A writer of your standing can surely come up with something more specific, more creative," Sean goaded, his fingers tapping impatiently against Viggo's thigh.
Viggo's face contorted with the effort of getting the words out. "The belt, the ring..." he hissed.
"It's a beautiful belt, yes, and if you behave I might be persuaded to show you lots of ways it can be used later, once we're somewhere more private," he purred into Viggo's eager ear. "As to the ring, I'm glad you noticed it. Would you like to feel it better maybe?" He smiled at Viggo's frantic nod and the ringed hand wandered up to the buttons of Viggo's jeans, opening them easily and curling around the straining hard on, circling until the ring brushed against Viggo's most sensitive spot.
"Yes," he crooned. "It's a beautiful ring and you're showing great taste and artistic sense in appreciating it quite so much."
He kept breathing hot nothings into Viggo's ear as his hand moved up and down and then stilled, as hot come erupted all over it and up his wrist.
"Very good Viggo, and one must appreciate just how attuned to the music you are, a true artist," Sean commented.
Viggo, who had slumped down, sated and breathless, didn't catch the meaning of Sean's words, but Sean hadn't missed a snatch of lyrics from the background music playing in the pub, a raw voice growling about firing all of your guns at once and exploding into space.
Yes, Sean thought, wild reckless behavior was quite exhilarating, more than he had ever thought it could be, and it had brought him a beautiful prize, he mentally added looking at Viggo.
He wiped his sticky hand on Viggo's jeans and buttoned him up again. He leaned forward, bringing his lips a hair's breadth from Viggo's ear once again.
"Hey handsome, I still have all my guns to fire. What about moving to my place?"
Glazed blue eyes opened lazily and stared at Sean. As they cleared and focused, an evil gleam started to glitter in their depths. One of Viggo's hands grabbed the buckle of Sean's sexy belt and propelled him out of the booth. The other hand moved seductively over Sean's throat, Aragorn's ring scraping against blond stubble.
"It's a deal blondie," Viggo drawled. "But don't count too much on using that belt of yours as you had planned, I've got a few plans of my own for it."
He shoved Sean out of the booth and rose, dragging him along by the hand securely hooked in the belt.
Music was still playing in the background. Viggo lifted his head to catch a piece of the soulful ballad that was now on.
'Like any dealer he was watching for the card that is so high and wild he'll never need to deal another...'
He acknowledged the lyrics with a knowing grin and tugged on the leather and silver belt, guiding his wild card to the door.
and before you all start clamoring for more, there is a follow-up in the making but right now we're stuck under a park bench (don't ask me how we got there *evil grin*)
Title: Wild thing
Author:
moldavaPairing: SB/VM
Rating: R
Feedback: would love it, thanks.
Disclaimer: not mine, only in my dreams
Archive: Rugbytackling; Green Opals
Notes: title and snatches of songs courtesy of The Troggs, RHPS, Steppenwolf and Leonard Cohen
Wild thing
Sean's expression as he set down the phone was not pleased, though in truth he had every reason to be satisfied. He'd just managed to talk Orlando out of another of his crazy bungee jumping expeditions, and that was definitely something to be proud of. The entire production ought to be grateful to him and Sean should be patting himself on the back right now.
But Orlando's parting words had started a chain of similar words echoing in his mind. And he was not particularly pleased with them...
'You're always the voice of reason Sean...'
He remembered something one of his girls had told him yesterday, during their usual phone call...
'Oh dad, you're just so dull and boring...'
And Ian's voice drifted in as well, mocking him a few days before over a pint of ale...
'It's fun teasing you Sean, you're so predictable! One always knows which buttons to push to get a reaction from you...'
Then another voice floated along, one that stung more than any other ever could, its low lazy drawl saying...
'Don't you ever let go Sean? Don't you ever want to do something wild and unexpected? Don't you ever reach out and grab what you want regardless of what people might think?'
Reasonable, boring, predictable...
When had he become like that? Or had he always been like that?
No, he knew that was not true, he knew there had been a time when he was not like that. He could be different still, he was different. Why had he let himself flatten down into routine so much?
He felt rebellious, he felt like this was the time and place to show everyone he could be wild, and reckless, and unpredictable.
He felt like this was the time to show Viggo he could indeed let go, reach out and take what he wanted.
He looked at his khakis and polo shirt and shook his head. They would not do. He went to the bedroom and inspected all his clothes... Comfortable, classic, stylish... 'boring, old-fashioned, predictable' a little voice jeered inside his head.
His face set in a grim expression, he grabbed his car keys and went shopping.
***
Sean stared at himself in the full length mirror.
Black skin-tight jeans and a black t-shirt hugged his body as if they'd been stitched directly on him. His reasonable self warned that after one washing he could probably only fit one arm into the jeans and one finger into the t-shirt. As a matter of fact, he'd probably need scissors to get out of that t-shirt... And as to the pants... Well, he'd better make sure he had someone around tonight to help him get out of them.
But, hell, he looked good, he looked dangerous. And the shop assistant seemed to agree as she insisted on working herself a black leather belt with ornate silverwork through the loops of the jeans waistband.
The look in the girl's eyes was most gratifying to Sean's self-confidence.
He eyed himself again, quite pleased with what he was seeing. He fingered pensively his earlobe... It had been pierced years ago, more or less at the time he'd got his Blades tattoo. Maybe it was time to start wearing an earring again, he thought, planning to visit a jewellers' shop next. And maybe a new aftershave also, one less classic and subdued...
***
When the new wild Sean stopped home to drop his old clothes before heading out to join his cast mates at the pub, like a snake shedding his old skin, his ego had received a huge boost. Several ones actually.
He had under his belt a not-so-covert pass from the girl at the jeans shop, who had kept touching his ass 'to make sure the jeans fit properly'; a series of not-so-subtle innuendos on opening holes and keeping them open from the guy who had re-punched his ear at the jewellers' and helped him select the Nepalese silver earring that now graced his earlobe and the matching silver ring shaped like a serpent for his index finger; and just thinking of the older lady at the cosmetics counter who had insisted that aftershave must be tried directly on a man's own skin and had made sure she touched every single inch of available skin while searching for the perfect match was enough to make him blush.
He had to admit though that each one of them seemed to know what they were doing, judging from the result.
And the new aftershave did smell nice, more spicy and exotic. And there was something decadent about dabbing on aftershave when it was late evening, considering that he'd skipped shaving that morning and was now sporting a sexy five o'clock stubble.
Yess, he purred to himself, he looked as if he'd just got up from bed and was ready for a night on the prowl... Dressed to the nines and ready to kill, and he just knew who the unsuspecting prey would be.
He grabbed an old, worn black leather jacket, a relic from his past, and headed to the pub.
***
Every eye in the pub zeroed in on Sean as he came in, all black and blond, jacket slung nonchalantly over one shoulder, tight shirt, tight jeans, a wild animal strut in his walk.
Lij and Dom let out wolf whistles.
Orli gaped and started to hum an old song, reverently muttering something about wild untamed things and a bee with a deadly sting.
Ian raised both his eyebrows and his glass and gave Sean a thumbs up sign.
The reaction from the audience was gratifying, Sean thought, except from the one specific member of the audience he'd had specifically in mind from the start.
Viggo was seated alone in a booth, his back to the door of the pub.
Sean walked up to him, noting that he was writing something in one of his ubiquitous notepads, an almost empty beer glass in front of him.
"Hey beautiful," Sean drawled, "Is this seat taken? A hunk like you shouldn't be sitting here all alone."
He smiled a 'yes I have a big mouth and aren't you wondering just what I am able to do with it' smile.
Viggo looked up and his eyes widened taking in Sean's attire, his cocky stance. His glance travelled down from the blond tousled hair to the reddish blond stubble, to the ring on Sean's earlobe, just begging to be tugged by teasing teeth. A black t-shirt, so tight it defined each single one of Sean's pectorals and abs. And nipples, oh yes, nipples definitely. It was quite hard to overlook them with the way they were pushing against the soft cotton hugging them.
Viggo's eyes stopped for a moment on the belt... silver and black leather... then moved down the jeans, appreciating the way they moulded Sean's hips and thighs. Not to mention the fact that Sean seemed to have converted to the why-bother-with-underwear school of thinking.
One hell of an inventory, Viggo thought, licking lips that suddenly felt dry.
His gaze travelled up now, as slowly as before, to meet green eyes that glinted like a wild cat's. He realized Sean was still waiting for his reply.
"Yes," he drawled. "The seat's taken, I've been holding it for you ever since we met. Am glad to see you finally felt ready to join me Sean."
Sean grinned, rather wolfishly, and slid inside the booth, surprising Viggo by sitting on his same side instead of in front of him.
The long black-clad thigh pressed against Viggo's one, suddenly enveloping it in heat as a hand dropped on it, long fingers spreading on the worn cloth of Viggo's jeans and finding unerringly the point above the knee where the denim was frayed and cut. An index slid in, poking around like a curious kitten, the silver ring on it scraping tantalizing against Viggo's skin.
Sean bent his head close to Viggo's, drinking in the way his eyes had deepened to a darker blue color, the film of sweat that was now beading his upper lip and the way his nostrils had flared as they caught Sean's spicy scent.
Viggo had tensed as Sean's mouth got close, almost touching his ear. He was waiting for words to be whispered into it, what he got was a sharp bite and his earlobe sucked into Sean's mouth. He jerked like a puppet whose strings had been unexpectedly pulled and moaned.
"Quiet, handsome," the whisper came now, a moist chuckle into Viggo's ear. "We don't want to attract attention, do we?"
Viggo shook his head obediently.
"Good boy," Sean praised, his hand moving slowly from Viggo's knee up along his thigh. "So, do you like my new clothes?" he asked conversationally, his hand stopping to finger the inside seam of Viggo's jeans.
Viggo nodded, then squirmed under the touch, trying to shift and bring Sean's hand higher, to where he needed to feel it most.
"Naughty..." Sean scolded softly, pinching him through the denim. "There's no telling what one like me might do to a naughty boy like you, you know. So, what do you like best about me new clothes?"
Viggo took a deep breath, trying to find his voice. "All of it."
"Oh, come on! You disappoint me, Viggo. A writer of your standing can surely come up with something more specific, more creative," Sean goaded, his fingers tapping impatiently against Viggo's thigh.
Viggo's face contorted with the effort of getting the words out. "The belt, the ring..." he hissed.
"It's a beautiful belt, yes, and if you behave I might be persuaded to show you lots of ways it can be used later, once we're somewhere more private," he purred into Viggo's eager ear. "As to the ring, I'm glad you noticed it. Would you like to feel it better maybe?" He smiled at Viggo's frantic nod and the ringed hand wandered up to the buttons of Viggo's jeans, opening them easily and curling around the straining hard on, circling until the ring brushed against Viggo's most sensitive spot.
"Yes," he crooned. "It's a beautiful ring and you're showing great taste and artistic sense in appreciating it quite so much."
He kept breathing hot nothings into Viggo's ear as his hand moved up and down and then stilled, as hot come erupted all over it and up his wrist.
"Very good Viggo, and one must appreciate just how attuned to the music you are, a true artist," Sean commented.
Viggo, who had slumped down, sated and breathless, didn't catch the meaning of Sean's words, but Sean hadn't missed a snatch of lyrics from the background music playing in the pub, a raw voice growling about firing all of your guns at once and exploding into space.
Yes, Sean thought, wild reckless behavior was quite exhilarating, more than he had ever thought it could be, and it had brought him a beautiful prize, he mentally added looking at Viggo.
He wiped his sticky hand on Viggo's jeans and buttoned him up again. He leaned forward, bringing his lips a hair's breadth from Viggo's ear once again.
"Hey handsome, I still have all my guns to fire. What about moving to my place?"
Glazed blue eyes opened lazily and stared at Sean. As they cleared and focused, an evil gleam started to glitter in their depths. One of Viggo's hands grabbed the buckle of Sean's sexy belt and propelled him out of the booth. The other hand moved seductively over Sean's throat, Aragorn's ring scraping against blond stubble.
"It's a deal blondie," Viggo drawled. "But don't count too much on using that belt of yours as you had planned, I've got a few plans of my own for it."
He shoved Sean out of the booth and rose, dragging him along by the hand securely hooked in the belt.
Music was still playing in the background. Viggo lifted his head to catch a piece of the soulful ballad that was now on.
'Like any dealer he was watching for the card that is so high and wild he'll never need to deal another...'
He acknowledged the lyrics with a knowing grin and tugged on the leather and silver belt, guiding his wild card to the door.
