It sn’t easy to explain just how much his father loves the field. He has worked on it all his life; has made it useful, the barren ground now fertile. Has fought to keep it safe from the English. He is tied to that land. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for it.
His father is tough as nails. The Bull, they call him. He’s tougher than Tadgh, though the son is in his prime and the father is an old man. He imprints on his son that without the land they are scattered, rootless. The land binds them and that is good. He wants to find Tadgh a wife, so he can start a family with a nice, local girl, fertile like the land. And he wants that field for Tadgh, is preparing him to tend to it for his sons, and his sons’ sons.
Tadgh wants to please his father. He wants to want what he wants. To want to own that field. To want to reap its fruit. Tadgh feels no need to be settled as such. But if it is what his father wants, he will do it all the same.
Bull McCabe has made that field what it is today. It is his by rights, though he does not hold ownership. And even if it had gone a little far to kill that donkey for it, it had been trespassing on the land. And Tadgh thought it was what his father wanted.
It was the Tinkers’ donkey.
The Tinkers aren’t tied to land. They are scattered, like the parachute seeds of a dandelion. Not weighed down by a past, connecting them to a patch of land and a set future of generations meant to own and tend it. Tadgh is drawn to the Tinkers. One in particular.
Not a girl, but a man. A young man, about Tadgh’s age. Tadgh is captivated by his striking appearance, his laughing eyes and his inviting smile. The Tinkers’ boy does what he likes. He sleeps under the stars in the open sky, moves on in the caravan if he pleases. He enjoys every day like it’s something special. Not like Tadgh, who labours hard in that field, with variably disappointing and sometimes terrifyingly meager reapings.
When they ride by the Tinkers’ camp, Tadgh can’t help but be enthralled by him. Others avert their eyes, or look with disdain, but he is mesmerised. The boy wears earrings, like a woman. His hair is too long and unruly. And the way he looks at Tadgh, it stains his cheeks red and makes his stomach feel funny with butterflies. Tadgh has never been with a girl. But he thinks the Tinkers’ boy has. Maybe many different ones, many different times.
Whenever the Tinker boy is close by, Tadgh feels his eyes on him, looking at him unabashedly. Tadgh has to look back, tries to do so inconspicuously, but when their eyes meet, the other boy doesn’t have the decency to look away.
There is trouble with the field. It is to be sold by auction. A stranger, American, wants to bid against his father. He wants to level the field to make a road. The Bull needs to borrow money to try to outbid him. Tadgh joins him when he goes out to one of the farmers to ask for help. He waits outside, where the Tinker boy is working. The boy tries to engage him in conversation. He talks about the rich American and how he could buy ten fields if he wanted. Tadgh is unsure and stays silent.
“You still follow your father like a calf,” the boy called Viggo says, smiling.
It angers Tadgh. Viggo is just a Tinker. He doesn’t need to worry about anyone, can see to his own happiness only. What does he know?
His father storms out of the farmer’s house and Tadgh follows when he’s called.
-------
The American is trouble. Tadgh offers his father to take care of him. But when it comes down to it, when the fight happens, he hasn’t the strength.
He wants to please his father, for all the times he’s disappointed him. But he can’t do it. The American has shamed his father, wanting to take his land, intending to pour concrete over it. And Tadgh is incapable of giving him that beating that is to scare him off. He is distracted by his fear and his insecurity. He is not as strong-willed as his father, even though he desperately wants his father’s eyes to shine when they look at him.
“Up!” says his father, when he is down, lying on the muddy soil. And he gets up. Gets beaten, but stays up and keeps coming back for more punches. Because he can’t not do as his father says.
When he can’t get up anymore, his father, infuriated, beats both him and the American with his cane. How can his son be so weak? His voice is full of loathing. How could he ever take care of the land? Again, he’s let his father down.
The American says the Bull is an animal and he’s turning his son into one as well. And then, in a fit of rage, the American is killed. An accident, but not.
Tadgh is lost. Bull McCabe is acting like a madman, not accepting what has happened. Tadgh cannot follow his father’s lead now. Was he indeed just a calf? What does he want? He has no care for land, for the field. He has no ties, as his father does.
He decides to do something. He has to leave.
-------
He finds himself wandering closer to Viggo’s caravan. Viggo is singing at a campfire by himself. He looks up, amused, as Tadgh approaches.
“Out on your own?” He gestures for Tadgh to join him.
Tadgh sits down. “I like that song.”
“Do you sing, Tadgh?”
Tadgh shakes his head.
“Why not?”
He shrugs.
“You see no reason for it?”
Tadgh yearns to reach out to Viggo, the most improper thoughts running through his head.
“Does your father not approve,” Viggo says, winking, and he chuckles.
“I killed the Yank,” Tadgh lies, trying to impress now.
“You did?” Viggo is impressed.
“My father wants to find me a woman. With acres of land and child bearing hips.”
Viggo grins. “That’s not what you want, is it. To be tied down, carry the burden that is this land.”
“It isn’t,” Tadgh confirms.
“So what about the woman with the child bearing hips?”
Tadgh blushes, but thankfully it’s somewhat concealed by the night.
Viggo leans forward and puts a hand on his cheek. Tadgh pulls back, startled. It’s not much of a surprise for Viggo, who suspects this is all new to him.
“I’ve seen you looking at me,” Viggo says, “you may touch what you have set your eyes upon.”
Tadgh swallows. “What do you mean?”
Viggo looks at him, his eyes gentle. “I mean, I can see your blush, Tadgh. There is no need.” Viggo reaches out his hand again.
This time Tadgh stays still. Stock still. Viggo’s hand cradles his cheek. He closes his eyes to the warmth that suffuses his face. Then, he boldly leans into the touch.
Viggo slides his hand down and to the back to cup Tadgh’s head and stroke his thumb over his throat. He sees his adam’s apple bob, and feels his pulse, quick, under the pad of his finger. Very slowly, he leans in again. He lets Tadgh feel his warm breath on the skin of his cheek before he places his lips over it.
Tadgh swallows again, and turns his head minutely. He wants to be kissed. He has never been kissed, not a real kiss, with wetness and tongues entwined. He has seen it, boys and girls frantically kissing, and it has never been something he’s particularly wanted for. He wants it more than anything he’s ever wanted now, and he waits for it like…
…Like a woman.
He shouldn’t be doing this, wanting this, but he can’t help it. It answers some deep rooted questions he’s never been able to articulate, even for himself.
Viggo kisses the corner of his mouth with warm, moist lips. Tadgh’s mouth opens of its own volition and searches out more. Viggo covers his mouth with his own and kisses him softly, but increasingly deeper.
Tadgh emits a sound he’s never heard before, and it shocks him. Viggo starts to pull back, but Tadgh curves his hand around the back of Viggo’s head and pulls him in for more, more of those lush, soft lips and that insistent, knowing tongue. His whole body sings from the kiss, and the only thing that would be better, is if they could be even closer.
He does let go now, even if he hasn’t found the words yet to express that sentiment, he needs to try. He looks at Viggo with dark eyes, and before he remembers how he should actually be using his tongue, Viggo speaks.
“Have you ever slept under the stars, Tadgh?”
Tadgh shakes his head. It would be a good start to his new way of life – in which he is thinking for himself. He wants to sleep outside. He will sleep outside. He shivers, his bravery waning quickly. He’s walked through rain and his damp clothes are uncomfortable, the thought of sleeping in them…
But then Viggo rises. Tadgh looks up at him. Viggo nods to the caravan, holding out his hand to Tadgh. Tadgh takes the hand and is pulled up, and along to the entrance.
Once they are inside, Viggo starts undressing. Tadgh looks on, eyes big and tongue flicking out to wet his lips. Viggo is beautiful, his skin is sun-kissed almost everywhere and he looks strong, not overly muscled, but with well-defined planes on his chest and stomach.
Tadgh stands frozen as more of Viggo is uncovered, and he feels arousal leaping through him. He looks away, embarrassed, and studies all the handcrafted and otherwise strange looking furniture and the like in the little home.
Viggo smiles, not bothered at all by his own nudity, and when he’s fully naked he steps closer to Tadgh. He moves his hands under the shoulders of Tadgh’s coat and slides it off, letting it fall to the floor. Then he starts opening the buttons of his shirt, and slowly, Tadgh looks up to meet his eyes.
Viggo’s fingers on his skin feels like being covered by something from another world. Every inch that is touched, will forever be different. Will never again not know the sensation of that touch. Though he has never felt this before, he knows that it is special, not something just anyone can do. He kisses Viggo again. He tries not to have his arms in the way of Viggo’s undressing him, but he also wants to hold him, embrace him, feel his skin against his own. That’s why he can’t help it when he presses himself close to Viggo, who pauses his endeavours to enjoy it. Tadgh groans when Viggo pushes his thigh against him, and he has to rub against it and cause more of that pleasant friction. Viggo hums and releases his mouth to be able to brush his stubble covered cheek against his neck, right before sucking the skin there into his mouth. And then the combination of both those pressures on his skin, it’s almost too much, and he’s making more of those sounds… and he’s not alone.
Viggo is breathing heavily right next to his ear, which causes him a whole other set of delightful shivers. And something hard and insistent is pressing up against his own hip. For an instant, he thinks about what that means and in that moment, Viggo whispers to him.
“Lie down with me.”
Tadgh nods and lets himself be taken to the makeshift bed. When they are lying down, Viggo pulls off Tadgh’s remaining clothes and covers his body with his own.
Tadgh puts his arms around Viggo’s neck, and eager to feel the hair that looks so soft, he weaves his fingers through it. With a tug he makes sure he can reach Viggo’s lips again, although there is so much more he wants. Kissing is pleasant and he knows how to do that now. He sucks on Viggo’s bottom lip and Viggo responds with a moan and buck of his hips.
Oh… Tadgh arches up and he knows his body well enough to know that release is not far away. He hooks his legs around one of Viggo’s to find some purchase from his position, and as he writhes for contact, Viggo leans up and spits in his hand. He moves the hand down between them, and holds himself and Tadgh together as he moves his body into that grip. Tadgh gasps and it does not take long at all before all these new sensations, the excitement of his independence, the knowledge of Viggo’s own arousal and the incredible feeling of their flesh moving together in Viggo’s hand, are too much to bear and make him come undone.
Tadgh’s climax triggers Viggo’s and he joins him in bliss, his body heavy on Tadgh’s and his breath coming in pants against his neck. Tadgh does not move his arms from around Viggo’s neck, and that is fine with Viggo. All he does is pull the blanket up around them, and they fall asleep with not an inch of open space between their bodies.
-------
They sit on the front of the caravan. Viggo holds the reins and is about to make the horse start walking.
Tadgh hesitates. His fingers twirl a dandelion that is starting to lose its seeds.
“I have to talk to my father.”
Viggo frowns. “But you still want to leave, don’t you?”
“I can’t just run away. I have to explain.” Tadgh is sure of himself now. He has his own life to live and he is ready to do it. He does not fear going to see his father. And he has to tell him why he’s going away.
“All right,” Viggo smiles, glad for the change already apparent in Tadgh. “We will go say goodbye to your father.”
Tadgh nods. He looks determined, but happy, as Viggo makes clicking sounds for the horse, and they set off to his father’s house.
Summary: Tadgh isn't tied to the land, like his father is.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Crossovers Pairing: Tadgh/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 2465 Read: 1225
Published: 06 Aug 2009 Updated: 06 Aug 2009