Deep down in the foggy valley tiny little huts cuddled together like herds of sheep. Fields in countless shades of ochre and green covered the steep flanks of the valley, like patchwork-quilts hanging from the wall.
The bluish silhouettes of the mountains far away on the horizon faded, washed out and transparent like the colours of an ancient aquarelle.
Clouds wavered like shaggy ghosts, imitating veiled figures, communicating in silent sign-language. The mountains and sky - calm, frozen and motionless, monuments of eternity.. Only the clouds played so quirkily ragged and crumpled, blown up blousy or floating mushily in countless variations.
The mountains retained the same harsh edges, pins and ridges, crystal forms in blue, grey, yellow and glittering white as the days when they'd been brutally pulled up out of the earth
Little blue lake-eyes stared up into the sky.
Sean had wished to travel to South America... he wanted to see the country that lived in his lover's childhood memories, just like Viggo had wanted to walk through the streets of Sheffield with him.
Could there be a stronger contrast than between the dusty suburban quarters of the English town and the wide Argentine landscape?
Everything here was so strange to Sean, and yet he felt a connection with what he saw, knowing Viggo so well. To show each other the places where they had grown up deepened their bond even more.
Viggo had always loved to spend his time outdoors in the wilderness. So they had come up here, to the summit of one of the foothills of the Argentine Andes. Later they would put up their little red tent, have one of those awful "pollo con huevos" soups for dinner and spend the night beneath a star-splintered sky... but now they leaned shoulder to shoulder and watched the firmament, slowly absorbing fluid light of the bleeding sun, soaked with purple, orange-gold and violet at the horizon.
A contour of gold surrounded each little blade of grass.
The fissured glaciers in the distance yawned with thousand crevasse-mouths, baring icicle-teeth. The mountains bathed in colours.
'I love you,' whispered Viggo.
Their way up had been fairy-like beautiful; through "elvish" woods with silvery thistles, red and yellow "candle"-flowers, wind-bent trees, gnarled and rooty, hung with beards of lichen, velvety skins of moss covering the barks. Yellow mushrooms, wild berries... then finally, just soft grass and flat stones, little white strawflowers, bellflowers in amazing shapes and colours, shimmering blossoms Sean had never seen before, giving him new ideas for a rock garden.
'I love you, too.'
Slowly Sean took his knife out of his pocket and placed it between them. Nothing special, just the old marred pocket knife he carried around with him. Viggo merely nodded, smiling.
They had often talked about Viggo's fascination with Indian traditions, even more so during their journey through South America. Viggo collected as many essays and news concerning the problems of Indian natives today as he could find, and sometimes posted them on the homepage of Perceval Press. The Indian roots of his character in Hidalgo had been the aspect about the film that interested him most.
One day Sean had asked him.
'Viggo, would you share an Indian ritual with me?'
Viggo didn't even have to ask. Happiness lit up in his eyes.
And now, he leaned in to kiss Sean, then whispered: 'I've dreamed of that when I was a boy, playing Winnetou and Old Shatterhand... I must confess a secret to you: I nearly suggested to Peter that Boromir and Aragorn should do it. I always thought they should have been blood brothers. But I was afraid you would laugh at me, because it might seem childish to you. Since we've been together, I've thought of it more than once. But I would never have expected you to ask. I am very positive of the power of rituals. We cannot marry, so?'
'Oh, we will marry!' Sean objected. 'We will bond in every way that is known in human history, as well as we will make love in every possible way, even if I have to learn the most bone-wrenching contortions described in the Kamasutra. If you ever break your word and leave me, there will be nothing left you can do for the first time with your new partner. I'll make sure that everything you do will remind you of me...!'
Viggo smiled at the passionate jealousy in Sean's voice and sparkling green eyes.
'I will not leave you. But we'll do everything you want to try anyway.'
Sean handed him the knife. His eyes went dark and deep with seriousness. He undressed, and Viggo did the same.
'Cut me.'
Sean stretched out his forearm. Viggo took hold of his wrist; the cool blade slid over Sean's skin. There was something primevally arousing in the fact that his lover was prepared to spill his blood for him.
The cut was perfect: not too deep, but not carried out too cautiously either. Sean didn't flinch. His eyes were locked with Viggo's.
Blood trickled down his arm in several lines.
'Cut me,' said Viggo, passing the knife to him. Sean kissed the spot on Viggo's arm before he cut through the skin, deftly, exactly with the right strength, like Viggo had cut him.
They still locked eyes as they raised their forearms, pressing the bleeding wounds together. As their blood mingled, dripping onto the earth, they kissed, never breaking the blood kisses of their cut flesh.
'I'm yours forever, Viggo,' said Sean.
'Since I'm with you, I hope that it's true what they say - that love is stronger than death,' answered Viggo. 'If we're lucky, we'll have 30 more years. But that will never be enough to give you all the love I feel for you. I'll need at least eternity to do that. But no... that still wouldn't do, because my love for you grows with each day. I'm yours, Sean.'
The mild wind embraced their naked bodies, as if the sky wanted to caress them with airy fingers.
Viggo lay back. 'Your place is on top, Sean. Ride me.'
Sean straddled him, prepared him with lube and impaled himself on Viggo's erect cock, moving slowly up and down.
The whole world lay beneath him...
Viggo put his hands under his thighs, lifted him and pulled him down again, supporting his rocking moves, and again the wind blew its warm breath over his skin.
Sean felt like if he could fly... and he was not afraid.
His fear of heights and flying had only been various faces of his fear of losing control and falling - and since he had allowed himself to fall - to fall in love with Viggo - all fears became less.
They were like the first men, the last men, the only men who existed... they were the centre of the world with the whole universe spinning around them.
Reaching the climax, crying out each others names, their voices mixed like their bodies fused, like their blood had flown together.
The sound travelled through the air and reverberated from steep mountain walls, filling the empty space. There were no eyes, no ears... only silent glaciers, calm rocks and mute mountains, which would still bear witness to their love in thousands of years, when no life remained on earth.
Sean would never forget that for one perfect moment in time, you can touch eternity.
Summary: Sean and Viggo share an Indian tradition.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: BloodplayChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 1238 Read: 815
Published: 06 Aug 2009 Updated: 06 Aug 2009