I. Sight
A year and a half. 547 days (give, take) of not seeing. Touching, only tasting in hotel-dimmed light. Slick skin, sheets slipping, darkness-soft voices; exhausted, hushed hellos and shadowed early morning goodbyes. Work, planes and families distancing dalliance.
Sean blinked against blindness, bulbs flashing images after. He pressed through swirling bodies, familiar with none; alien angles and curves, sweet perfumes masking scent.
A slurred sentence at his shoulder turned him around.
He stepped close and found himself caught in welcoming arms; knew without looking that he'd hungered for sight. Salt and sweat, weight given words; slow simmer, rekindled and reflected.
***
II. Taste
Viggo watched the droplets form, glide down the glass, sometimes spreading, pooling on the table as they slithered to the bottom; sometimes stopped in mid-stream, smeared by Sean's fingers.
Viggo wondered, savouring the sight of Sean licking his lips, whether the lime juice that trickled down the inside edge when the wedge had been impaled would linger, tinging Sean's skin, tart taste sliding smoothly under vodka burn.
He looked up and found himself caught in smiling eyes; knew without telling that he'd taste and be tasted, memory meeting moment. Salt and sweat, citrus on skin; slow smoulder, rekindled and reflected.
Summary: Sean and Viggo meet up at the A History of Violence party at the Toronto International Film
Rated: PG
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 204 Read: 848
Published: 18 Aug 2009 Updated: 18 Aug 2009