There's a draft in the room; it shivers up Viggo's spine, down Viggo's arms, cool over his heated skin. He keeps his eyes closed, letting it kiss the naked vulnerability of his forearms, his shoulders, his back... It's hot in the bedroom; the sheets feel damp, heavy, over his legs.
The hardwood floor creaks a little, behind him, on his left; there's a board coming loose at the other side of the room, he never got around to fixing it. The air moves with the sound, then the bed dips, a little, under him.
Slowly, so slowly, the sheets are sliding down along his legs--it's a new, pleasant kind of shiver, when he feels cool air on his exposed backside, kissing him in the crease where thigh meets cheek; the sheets stop right there as well, resting too light and too heavy at once on the back of his thighs. There's a breath of fire in the cool, chilly air, licking at him like a silvery flame--silvery as the spots dancing behind his closed eyelids--and Viggo's legs spread, just a little, his hips shift, making place for his hardening cock. Friction--barely--of flesh on cotton, the mattress hard but yielding under him.
The bed undulates, a little like a boat when someone gets on board.
Sea, Viggo thinks; ocean. Deep green water, burning blue sky, when the first stars appear. Strange stars, blinking down at you from strange, endless skies, in endless, too brief nights.
"Please," he whispers in his pillow, sure he will be heard even though the cotton muffles his voice. His hips shift, again; it's almost unbearable. He thinks about it--about moving, pushing up on his knees, driving his hardness into the welcoming, quickly dampening mattress.
There's no answer, only another wave when someone leans down, hot breath against the small of his back, cool hands caressing him just where the sheets rest, slick thumbs inward, teasing him, stroking him along the cleft, barely there. Staying still is impossible, and he buries his burning face in the pillow when his body betrays him, when his legs open a bit more, his hips lift up and back, craving the touch, needing...
The sheets slide further down, mid-thigh.
"Please," he repeats, ashamed at the sobbing need that escapes with his voice. It's only a word, after all.
"Please," Sean had whispered once, under a strange sun. How hot Sean's fingers had been, touching him, burning through his soul like dark words full of promises. Sean's eyes had been burning, too.
When Viggo turns his face on the pillow, looks over his shoulder, the eyes he sees are not green--are not Sean's--and they just look back, no fire in them, no promises, no plea returned. These eyes will never burn for him. But it's... if not all right, it's at least just.
It's what he didn't dare to take when it was offered. It's what he lost when he let Sean's hand fall away, the fire go out.
"Please," Viggo says again, forming the word around a shiver when the sheets are torn from him.
It's all he can have, and it burns him inside.
Summary: Viggo needs...
Rated: PG
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 524 Read: 901
Published: 01 Aug 2009 Updated: 01 Aug 2009