Every single city had a different-coloured sun. Viggo knew that the thought was ludicrous to many - the sun's light fell the same way throughout the Earth after all - but he had saw it himself. In Istanbul the sunlight was the lightest of blues, only noticeable if he half-closed his eyes. The air, the colours of the city- all of it changed the light.
It had been a month since New Orleans. Thirty-four days. Viggo would count the hours if he get out of bed, but he preferred staying here; here, right next to Sean as he slept, tracing the deep wrinkles that had set themselves into his eyes without Viggo's notice, without his permission. Sean had aged, caused by the hurt that Viggo caused, and Viggo wondered when he would be able to forgive himself for that.
(He wondered if he could try forgive Sean for sleeping with someone else; for sharing the sights of him in the delirium of pleasure that only Viggo should be able to give him. He wondered when he would address it and speak of it, instead of trying to forget. The thought festered within him, and he knew he should say it, tell Sean rather than try to claim him every single moment he could, with hands and lips and tongue and skin.
He wondered if Sean already knew his reasons, and that was why he didn't ask.
They should speak of it. Unspoken resentments had already broken the two of them once, and Viggo wouldn't let it happen again. No matter how much he feared that he would lose Sean because of it. He had already lost him once, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to live without him. Not when Sean was carved into his heart and mind and his very soul.)
But not today. Not today. Viggo reached out and stroked his hand through Sean's hair. It was short and brown, so different from the blond that it had been when they had first met. Viggo's own hair was grey; a testament to the years they had spent with each other.)
Sean shifted in his sleep, a soft breath escaping from his lips. He licked them, unconscious still, and Viggo watched as the dull pink turned into a soft red under the early morning night. He should wake soon; filming would start n two hours, and Viggo wanted nothing more than to claim him again, in the morning. Claim him until Sean ached from inside out, unable to forget Viggo even when he turned into Paul Winstone.
He pressed his lips against Sean's. Gently, barely enough weight to disturb his breath.
Green eyes opened slowly, and Sean shifted in the bed. He yawned, reaching out and sliding his hand into Viggo's hair, pulling him down. They inhaled each other's morning breath, a familiarity that changed laughing disgust into another, stronger joy.
"Mornin'," Sean said, his voice thickened by his accent and sleep.
Viggo smiled, and he stroked Sean's cheek, sliding down to his neck, feeling his pulse beat against his fingers.
"It's a beautiful day."
Summary: “Every single city had a different-coloured sun.” This is a sequel to Grazed Knees
Rated: PG
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 518 Read: 811
Published: 10 Nov 2012 Updated: 10 Nov 2012