Fic: Your own sweet way
Sep. 8th, 2005 09:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moldavaI have been working for a while on this and I'm beginning to think I should maybe have a poll once I post the second part to decide whether there should be more or not ;)
There are times when the boys just want to go on and on.. *g*
Title: Your own sweet way / 1
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moldava
Pairing: Sean/Viggo (now, humor me, act surprised ;)
Rating: PG-13 or whereabouts
Disclaimer: they're not mine, regretfully
It doesn't matter what I say
What I do or what I think
You can lead a horse to water
You can't make him drink
You'll go your own sweet
Your own sweet way
(Mark Knopfler – Your own sweet way)
So very true, Viggo thought as he caught a snatch of the song playing in the background, amid the assorted din of the pub.
He’d managed to get Sean alone, persuaded him to come with him to a different pub than the one where they would have found all the crowd of people from the set. They were now seated together in this older-folks place.. quieter, more laid-back, more.. romantic?!
As soon as the word took shape in his mind Viggo reached quickly for his glass and hid his sudden embarrassment in it.
“What’s up?” Sean asked, green eyes studying Viggo’s face.
“Nothing,” Viggo shrugged. “Some words in the song they’re playing caught my attention..”
Sean cocked his head and listened. The song was reaching the end, but he recognized Mark Knopfler’s unmistakable guitar and after some thinking he was able to identify the song and play it in his head, going through the lyrics to find what had captured Viggo’s attention.
In the meantime, Viggo was thinking of the many times he’d been in a similar situation with a woman.. He’d known what to do then, he’d known all the moves, so why did he now feel shy about doing that kind of stuff with Sean, about sending out to him those little messages that say you’re interested and looking for more?
He took a deep breath and reached out to toy with a spare coaster, letting the side of his hand accidentally brush Sean’s fingers and linger. But the breath strangled in his throat when those fingers reached out and traced a fresh scrape slashing the back of Viggo’s hand.
“You should be more careful,” Sean scolded softly, “wear those half-gloves also during sword practice..” And not only because it drives me crazy to see you in them… Sean added in his mind, well aware of how the sight of Viggo’s long, elegant fingers emerging from the worn black leather of Aragorn’s half-gloves always seemed to travel straight to his cock and make him wonder how would it feel, what the combination of rough-skinned fingertips and worn leather would be like on his most sensitive skin.
He wondered if this could be the right time and place to try making a pass at Viggo.. Or trick Viggo into putting himself in Sean’s hands, he thought consideringly as an idea flashed through his mind..
“You know, I’ve read the script again and again and in my honest opinion Tolkien had it wrong…” Sean nodded sagely, reached for his glass and sipped some scotch.
“Did he now?” Viggo asked, glad that Sean had broken the silence that had been lengthening between them but disappointed by the removal of the fingers that had been stroking his scraped hand and generally making all the hair on his body – and not just the hair – stand to attention. “In what way?” he prodded, curious about Sean’s train of thought.
“About Boromir and Aragorn.. It is quite obvious to me that they could not have been.. you know.. just antagonizing each other and slowly getting closer and closer to become mates only when it was too late.. There had to be more there..” Sean mused, dipping a finger in his whisky and sucking on it, looking thoughtful.
“What exactly are you implying?” Viggo asked, fascinated by Sean’s suggestion as much as by the flash of tongue lapping at his friend’s fingertip. “Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?”
“They were doing each other those two, and I’m not ruling out a dom-sub relationship..” Sean nodded again and winked.
Viggo, who had been sipping at his scotch to distract himself from thoughts of that barely-glimpsed tongue lapping at something very different from Sean’s own finger, something that was getting hard and making Aragorn’s leather pants uncomfortable, choked and spluttered.
“What?” he coughed, trying to clear his lungs from some booze gone down the wrong way. “And just who do you think would be the dom?”
“Boromir, of course..” Sean replied with blithe assurance.
“Boromir??” Viggo coughed some more. “But Aragorn is the leader, not Boromir!” he expostulated in a strangled voice.
“Aw, come on, you can’t really believe that..” Sean shook his head in disagreement. “Maybe towards the end of the story, but not at this stage.. Look at him, he’s always so composed and meek..”
“Meek? Aragorn is not meek! I’m not meek!” Viggo argued in a crescendo that got them some curious looks from the people seated at the table nearest to theirs.
“Now, now.. don’t take it like that,” Sean replied soothingly. “No need to get all worked up for nothing.. It’s not your fault that Aragorn is like that, and we were not talking about you, were we?! It’s not that because Aragorn is quite certainly a sub you’re one too..”
“I’m not a sub,” Viggo growled truculently, glaring at Sean.
“I’m sure you’re not,” Sean replied, patting Viggo’s hand encouragingly as if to humour him and managing to infuse his voice with just the right degree of condescension to give the impression that he was agreeing merely out of politeness.
“I don’t like your tone..” Viggo’s scraped hand curled into a fist and his blue eyes narrowed into icy slits. “You sound like you don’t believe me..”
“Tough luck, I can’t help the way I sound..” Sean shrugged, eyebrows raised over taunting green eyes. “If you’re so worked up about this, I guess the only thing to do is convince me..”
“What do you mean by ‘convince me’?” Viggo asked, eyes still narrowed.
“Show me..” Sean whispered, leaning forward and letting the words hang into the air between them like a challenge.
- tbc -
There are times when the boys just want to go on and on.. *g*
Title: Your own sweet way / 1
Author:
moldavaPairing: Sean/Viggo (now, humor me, act surprised ;)
Rating: PG-13 or whereabouts
Disclaimer: they're not mine, regretfully
It doesn't matter what I say
What I do or what I think
You can lead a horse to water
You can't make him drink
You'll go your own sweet
Your own sweet way
(Mark Knopfler – Your own sweet way)
So very true, Viggo thought as he caught a snatch of the song playing in the background, amid the assorted din of the pub.
He’d managed to get Sean alone, persuaded him to come with him to a different pub than the one where they would have found all the crowd of people from the set. They were now seated together in this older-folks place.. quieter, more laid-back, more.. romantic?!
As soon as the word took shape in his mind Viggo reached quickly for his glass and hid his sudden embarrassment in it.
“What’s up?” Sean asked, green eyes studying Viggo’s face.
“Nothing,” Viggo shrugged. “Some words in the song they’re playing caught my attention..”
Sean cocked his head and listened. The song was reaching the end, but he recognized Mark Knopfler’s unmistakable guitar and after some thinking he was able to identify the song and play it in his head, going through the lyrics to find what had captured Viggo’s attention.
In the meantime, Viggo was thinking of the many times he’d been in a similar situation with a woman.. He’d known what to do then, he’d known all the moves, so why did he now feel shy about doing that kind of stuff with Sean, about sending out to him those little messages that say you’re interested and looking for more?
He took a deep breath and reached out to toy with a spare coaster, letting the side of his hand accidentally brush Sean’s fingers and linger. But the breath strangled in his throat when those fingers reached out and traced a fresh scrape slashing the back of Viggo’s hand.
“You should be more careful,” Sean scolded softly, “wear those half-gloves also during sword practice..” And not only because it drives me crazy to see you in them… Sean added in his mind, well aware of how the sight of Viggo’s long, elegant fingers emerging from the worn black leather of Aragorn’s half-gloves always seemed to travel straight to his cock and make him wonder how would it feel, what the combination of rough-skinned fingertips and worn leather would be like on his most sensitive skin.
He wondered if this could be the right time and place to try making a pass at Viggo.. Or trick Viggo into putting himself in Sean’s hands, he thought consideringly as an idea flashed through his mind..
“You know, I’ve read the script again and again and in my honest opinion Tolkien had it wrong…” Sean nodded sagely, reached for his glass and sipped some scotch.
“Did he now?” Viggo asked, glad that Sean had broken the silence that had been lengthening between them but disappointed by the removal of the fingers that had been stroking his scraped hand and generally making all the hair on his body – and not just the hair – stand to attention. “In what way?” he prodded, curious about Sean’s train of thought.
“About Boromir and Aragorn.. It is quite obvious to me that they could not have been.. you know.. just antagonizing each other and slowly getting closer and closer to become mates only when it was too late.. There had to be more there..” Sean mused, dipping a finger in his whisky and sucking on it, looking thoughtful.
“What exactly are you implying?” Viggo asked, fascinated by Sean’s suggestion as much as by the flash of tongue lapping at his friend’s fingertip. “Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?”
“They were doing each other those two, and I’m not ruling out a dom-sub relationship..” Sean nodded again and winked.
Viggo, who had been sipping at his scotch to distract himself from thoughts of that barely-glimpsed tongue lapping at something very different from Sean’s own finger, something that was getting hard and making Aragorn’s leather pants uncomfortable, choked and spluttered.
“What?” he coughed, trying to clear his lungs from some booze gone down the wrong way. “And just who do you think would be the dom?”
“Boromir, of course..” Sean replied with blithe assurance.
“Boromir??” Viggo coughed some more. “But Aragorn is the leader, not Boromir!” he expostulated in a strangled voice.
“Aw, come on, you can’t really believe that..” Sean shook his head in disagreement. “Maybe towards the end of the story, but not at this stage.. Look at him, he’s always so composed and meek..”
“Meek? Aragorn is not meek! I’m not meek!” Viggo argued in a crescendo that got them some curious looks from the people seated at the table nearest to theirs.
“Now, now.. don’t take it like that,” Sean replied soothingly. “No need to get all worked up for nothing.. It’s not your fault that Aragorn is like that, and we were not talking about you, were we?! It’s not that because Aragorn is quite certainly a sub you’re one too..”
“I’m not a sub,” Viggo growled truculently, glaring at Sean.
“I’m sure you’re not,” Sean replied, patting Viggo’s hand encouragingly as if to humour him and managing to infuse his voice with just the right degree of condescension to give the impression that he was agreeing merely out of politeness.
“I don’t like your tone..” Viggo’s scraped hand curled into a fist and his blue eyes narrowed into icy slits. “You sound like you don’t believe me..”
“Tough luck, I can’t help the way I sound..” Sean shrugged, eyebrows raised over taunting green eyes. “If you’re so worked up about this, I guess the only thing to do is convince me..”
“What do you mean by ‘convince me’?” Viggo asked, eyes still narrowed.
“Show me..” Sean whispered, leaning forward and letting the words hang into the air between them like a challenge.
- tbc -
