Though he hadn't stepped foot outside his bed, Viggo could tell it was a beautiful morning. Sunlight angled in through the open window, warming the bedroom by degrees, filling the sheer drapes with a golden glow. The shadows of the windowpane frames lay grey against the sheers as they wafted on a bare breeze, patterns of lines that might have interested Viggo had he not been otherwise distracted. The night had been a long one, leaving him aching in the unlikeliest, most delicious places.
Beside him, Sean lay seemingly boneless on his belly, so deeply asleep that he wasn't even snoring or trying to hoard the comforter. Viggo had awakened at dawn, had watched the sunlight slowly fill the room and inch over the foot of the bed to gild Sean's toes where they just peeked from underneath the rumpled, blue coverlet. Sean, in his sprawl that attempted to encompass the entire right side of the mattress, but at the same time curl around Viggo, hadn't registered the sunrise, the cool breeze slipping in the window, or the sunlight on his toes.
Viggo had noticed though, and now he lay very still, watched Sean dream and admitted to himself that he wasn't prepared for this to end. He wanted more mornings like this, and more nights like last night where he and Sean had stumbled into Viggo's bedroom, hands busy with each other's clothes and laughing between kisses, where Sean had suddenly whispered Viggo's name and had made it a name of need and want and desire.
They had been together before, a handful of nights that had found them reaching for one another out of mutual attraction and loneliness. There had been no talk of promises and it had been easy, so easy with Sean, being friends who fucked, but underneath the laughter there sparked a startling intensity that neither of them had ever mentioned. Yet, in all those nights Viggo had never seen Sean's eyes so dark, so green, as they were last night, had never had heard Sean sound so hungry to be claimed.
Viggo's eyes slid shut at the memory of how his fingers had tightened hard on Sean's hips, remembering his thought that there would be bruises, that he wanted there to be, and it had all been pure reaction to the sound of his name sliding over Sean's lips. In all the times they'd shared, Viggo had never seen Sean need him so, had never heard such undiluted desire from his friend. Suddenly Viggo had dared hope that Sean might be offering more than his body, or his friendship.
Sean must have read the emotions on Viggo's face, for he'd whispered Viggo's name again without being asked, and the sound of that voice breathing such desire into one word had set something aflame in Viggo. He'd pushed Sean towards the bed, then down on it, stripping him as they went, relishing the rip-snap as thread popped and buttons flew, relished the feel of Sean's strong, lean body buck beneath him.
Then Viggo demanded his name. He had wanted to hear it again, wanted to see the look in Sean's eyes when he gave it. Sean had obeyed and had given him what he was seeking, but this time along with the desire there was a challenge riding the rough syllables.
Now, his skin flushed with the memory of that low, husky voice, Viggo opened his eyes and looked at Sean. He remembered so clearly how the eager, familiar slide of skin on skin had become electric between them, how he had ached last night to have Sean, to be with him, inside him, burn him the way Viggo had been burned with just a word, a name. He'd been filled with need, with greed, until all that he could think of was of getting to Sean, of holding Sean down and leaving his mark on him.
It had felt like instinct and Viggo had set about marking his lover without asking permission, and Sean, naked and sweating had gloried in the rough, claiming touch. He'd pushed and pulled, demanded and asked all at once for what he wanted, needed, deserved with the arch of his back, the nip of his teeth, the rake of his fingers. He'd grappled and torn at Viggo's shirt until he'd found bare skin. He'd nipped, clutched and sucked and demanded point blank with that thick, accented tone that had always reached out and grabbed Viggo down low, even in the beginning, to be fucked, right there, right now and right hard, dammit.
Viggo hadn't failed him, and once he'd made it inside Sean, sheathed by that tight heat, riding that incredible strength, his friend and lover, the scale of his need tipped hard and he'd fucked Sean. Fucked him halfway across the mattress with merciless thrusts, not stopping for gentle kisses or caresses, not stopping until the orgasm came and ripped words from his mouth that he'd wanted to say for days and that now, by the light of day, he wasn't sure Sean had even heard.
In the tumble back to awareness, lying collapsed against Sean's sweat slicked chest, Viggo had known that he didn't want this to end, and he'd dared hope Sean didn't want it to end either. This wasn't just about loneliness and friendly fucking, or about needing to be fucked, not anymore. It hadn't been for a while, Viggo had been sure of it last night and he thought now, lying still and watching his lover sleep, that maybe Sean knew it too and that's why they'd never talked about it.
They hadn't talked about what would happen when Sean went home. They hadn't discussed anything past green, lush New Zealand where Sean had once drawn Viggo down into the shadow of the makeup trailer and kissed him for what had seemed like hours. Now, Viggo hoped that they would talk about what was happening between them, and the just thought of it set his heart to pounding.
Viggo reluctantly glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table, and saw that they still had a couple of hours before being due back on the set. He wished it were a couple of days instead. He wanted to preserve this, the morning, he wanted to hold it steady and still and just linger in it for as long as he possibly could, and the urge nearly sent him hunting for his old friend, his camera. He wanted to take Sean's picture as he was now, in Viggo's bed with mussed hair, wearing nothing but sunlight and the marks Viggo had put on him.
Turning the idea of photographing Sean over in his head, Viggo reached out and slowly tugged the rumpled coverlet down past the small of Sean's back, already plotting the best angles. There were so many. Viggo lay still, fingers curled into the hem of the comforter and looked a long while and considered. The idea was a good one, it would give him something of their time together that he could literally take out and look at any time he wanted after Sean had gone.
Propping himself up on one elbow, Viggo reached out and coaxed the dark coverlet down another six inches, over the sweet swell of Sean's rear. Sean's skin bore dark smudges in places. Viggo stared at his own fingerprints and the sight of them sent goosebumps rising across his flesh.
No photographs, period, and the thought was sudden, immediate and crucial. No photographs, ever. Not of this, not when just anyone might happen upon them. Not when Viggo wanted this sight for his eyes only. His eyes. Only.
The feeling of possessiveness crested strong and sudden, but it wasn't that surprising. Viggo breathed deep, let the emotion wash over him and embraced it for what it was.
It was just as well, photographs wouldn't do this sight justice. Film would never capture the way the morning light, now truly streaming into the bedroom, playing across Sean's fair skin. On film the red marks tripping across Sean's back would lose their heat, their voice. These angry looking marks had been laid down in desire, had been made by Viggo and anger had nothing to do with it, and he doubted a photograph could convey what that meant. Mere pictures would pale next to what he knew as the real thing.
Still, Viggo's thoughts lingered on his camera. Perhaps photographing Sean would help him gain perspective and that might be a good thing. It was hard to think clearly of tomorrow and the day after when Sean's long, warm body lay so close. When the hope inside him threatened to break loose and make him wake Sean with the reckless words of the night before.
Viggo sighed, stretched out, eased his naked body even closer to Sean and rested his head on the corner of Sean's pillow, nearly sharing Sean's breath. It was a quiet, beautiful morning, and it couldn't last. The sun would climb overhead, the morning would age into afternoon and the gold blanketing Sean would fade long before that. They both would return to work and spend long hours being other people, and pretending they hadn't spent the night in one another's arms, again.
Another night would fall and Viggo hoped, if possible, it would find him with Sean, but for now he only wanted to watch Sean sleep, to hear Sean breathe beside him, to feel him. With that thought his hand wandered to Sean's back, then to a smooth shoulder blade before slipping down to the dip at the base of Sean's spine. Viggo pressed his palm there and luxuriated in the warmth and power that one small spot had for him.
Careful not to tickle too much, keeping only the pads of his fingers against warm skin and bypassing the reddening marks left behind by his hands and stubble and teeth, Viggo let his fingers drift light and warm across Sean like the visiting sunlight. He let his fingers brush across the short beard Sean had grown for Boromir, then traced the arch of an eyebrow. He carded his fingers through soft, dark blond hair touched with bright morning highlights and was nearly surprised when his fingers didn't come away smudged with gold.
Just then Sean stirred, perhaps finally registering the feather light touch, or the day's mounting warmth against his skin, but when he moved it was only to rub his cheek against the pillow with a bare, contended sigh. In sleep his lips parted slightly, invitingly, and Viggo, keeping his fingers moving soothingly in Sean's hair, closed the last little distance and pressed his lips against Sean's sleep-soft mouth. Still bound in dreams Sean was slow to respond, but the presence of a warm body, and warm lips against his own, shifted him toward Viggo, and he reached out clumsily.
Viggo swiped his tongue across Sean's lips, his fingers tightening in hair barely long enough to grasp and hold. Tilting Sean's head back he gloried in the sheer pliability that he would've had to work for and earn were Sean truly awake. Keeping his grip light but firm in Sean's hair, Viggo tongued Sean's sleepy, wet-warm mouth lazily, only pausing when Sean mumbled sleepy nonsense that bordered on wakefulness. Viggo chuckled against his lover's slick lips, then kept still until Sean fell quiet, warm and relaxed beneath his hand once more.
Viggo thought again that no photograph could possibly match this, Sean sleeping and marked and simply his.
He knew too, that soon he'd have to let go no matter how his fingers held tight in Sean's hair, or how many kisses he'd stolen for his own from Sean's lips. He knew that the sun would set on their island again, one more day would pass, and that before long Boromir's scenes would be filmed and stored, and Sean would go home. But Viggo could hold tight to what he had while he had it. He could hold tight to the way Sean had said his name, to his words that Sean might, or might not have heard, and he intended hold onto the morning as long as it lasted, though it was already fading.
The flood of sunlight had abated somewhat, the sun having ridden higher outside the window, the angle of its rays shifting and losing some of their brilliance in his bedroom, though really, Viggo didn't care overmuch. For now, this morning, he only wanted to watch Sean sleep. He wanted to lie quiet and collect his kisses and let the morning recede because for a while longer, Sean would be there, in his bed.
Viggo wanted to keep his lover, and the morning, for just a little while longer. Soon enough he'd wake Sean with his hands and mouth and time willing, they'd make slow, sleepy love once more before returning to Middle Earth, but for now Viggo was content to watch. They'd have to talk sometime, but for now he would touch and kiss and just breathe, and let himself linger in the moment and know that no matter what he would hold on, for as long as Sean let him.
Summary: In the morning, Viggo decides to hold on.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 2205 Read: 946
Published: 30 Jul 2009 Updated: 30 Jul 2009