Summer squalls blew through late in the day, tamping down the dust and allowing the humidity to finally break into pure physical form. An old and once-white rocker was blown halfway off a shallow porch that wanted to be a beach, its bare boards only visible now and again as the winds shoved sand and skittering leaves here and there on its surface. Birds had abandoned their noises, waiting out the storm in silence, but fish were launching themselves toward the water’s surface – some breaking free to arc over it – mistaking the spatter of raindrops for insects dancing on the waves. Palm fronds whipped skyward and then to one side or the other, the gusts pushing and pulling them into giant wings against the blue-black sky.
The screen door held its own with the storm by acquiescence, blowing open silently and then slamming shut with the crisp sound of thin wood hitting against the more substantial frame. Coquina-stuccoed walls had long since been worn smooth by the fathers and grandfathers of these winds and the only acknowledgement they gave was to offer surfaces against which the live oaks and jacaranda could scrape in noises fearsome and bright.
Within the darkened house, an old dog slept in a well worn kitchen, a trembling red and white puppy huddled nearby. Hurricane lanterns lit in anticipation of the storm sat on the counter and table, flickering and sputtering, sending a smell of unscented grocery store candles into the room. The wailing threats of the wind continued and the sounds of leaves thrashing against the house fought to be heard over the bands of rain, there and then not there at some god’s direction.
Further inside the fearless house, shadows of similar sounds existed on their own as two bodies sought sanctuary in the fury of the storm. A dark head was thrown back as hips drove forward, bringing the two men together in sensuous waves. A throaty gasp came from the one below, braced on hands and knees in sheets that had long since given up any crispness to the humid air. They moved slowly, always back toward each other, each stroke a savoring of silken, sumptuous sensation. Shiny skin on shiny skin was highlighted by brief lightening flashes that lit the world frequently and only in the brightness of those moments was it possible to determine where one lover ended and another began.
“Sean…I love you so much…so fucking much,” murmured the dark-haired man, stopping his rapturous motions to lay his head between the sweaty shoulder blades beneath him, pausing in the heat.
An attic fan drew breath through open windows, pulling in rain-cooled air that had the audacity to cause a chill as it passed. All around them swirled a mix of the hot humidity of the long day as it fought to pull the essence of the rain into itself.
“Turn over, Sean. Face me, baby,” the man said as he pulled slowly back, out. Alone. Both groaned at the loss.
Sean turned, shoving the damp top sheet onto the old wooden floor and kicking his feet loose as raindrops pushed into the room, stopping far short of the bed but bringing with them the heavy salt smell of the sea. He reached for the other man and pulled him down with him, tongues stroking and twisting without interruption.
"Fuck me, Viggo. Now, love. Need you…now,” moaned Sean, spreading his muscled thighs farther apart and tilting himself upward. Viggo pulled back from their kiss.
“I want to see you. Look at me. Now, baby.”
And he thrust in, both bodies ready and welcoming and the slide was perfection made more so by green eyes that widened and then narrowed with the ecstasy of finding each other again. Thunder rumbled and then cracked with a sharpness that made their ears hurt and the fierceness of the winds moaned and fought around them.
“Ah, Viggo…fuck me harder, love…Hard. Yeah…that is…so…fucking brilliant. God…I love you, Vig.”
Viggo was bent low against him, pistoning into him with the unthinking need of an animal. Only the bright blue-gray eyes and the tears flowing from them spoke of their love and those were there long before words found their place.
“Sean…Sean…never go again…please.”
“Not going anywhere, Vig. Just love me…don’t stop…don’t stop, love…”
It became a chant, sung out into the heavy wet air, melding into the sounds all around them. Viggo’s hand moved to Sean’s heavy, thick cock and he closed his eyes in silent appreciation of the feelings, the inevitability of their shared release. As he moved them together in synchronized glory, Sean gasped beneath him and he thrust deeper and harder until the waves were right there and then they fell into them together, his come filling Sean’s body in an echo of the euphoric pulses against his belly and chest.
In the flash of lightning, Sean saw Viggo licking his come from his spread fingers, his eyes only narrow dark slits. The motions of tongue and lips over that hand were slow and deliberate, reverent. Sean lifted up, rolling to the side with Viggo’s naked body beneath his own. He kissed him then, deep and longingly and with such a need for possession that he broke from it with the feeling of a sob forming somewhere in his chest. He looked at the man beneath him, smelled the salt and the rain and the sweat, and knew there would never for him be a more perfect moment.
The sob broke free disguised as quiet throat clearing and he suddenly needed an answer.
“Why, Vig? Why did you say I was never to go again, love? Again? We’ve not been apart since we found each other. What is it?”
The other man looked heartbroken, some mix of sadness, fear and melancholy on his face.
“Once said I’d missed
You every instant
Before we’d met.”
He whispered the words from his poem, looking down toward where their hands were clasped over his chest. Sean had to strain to hear him over the rush of another wave of rain and the clap and rumble of thunder.
“You think I would go?”
“No…not now. Just miss you. In my memory. Before us. Makes no sense, I know.”
“Shush then,” breathed Sean, knowing now. “We have now and all our long lives ahead. And we will find our way to make it more. To feel the loss less.”
The wind whipped through the room again as Viggo replied with a yes that became a kiss just before the rain fell again.
Summary: A bit melancholy, not quite angsty. Its love.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 1120 Read: 799
Published: 16 Aug 2009 Updated: 16 Aug 2009