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fellowshippers2005-05-01 01:24 am
viggoafterclass.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2005-05-01 01:24 am
Fiction, for Sarah who loves Karl, and Karl, whom Viggo loves
From: viggo mortensen
Date: Sat Apr 30, 2005 12:24:44 America/Vancouver
To: karl urban
Subject: wild horses/another life
We thought the shoot was over, remember? I'd come in from Morocco, you from some promotion at home, hitting LA at the same time from opposite directions. Tired men, not the young studs of Rings but older, not quite as quick to recover from travel, from hours of cameras and lights and 'smile' and 'stand there please'. op twenty-four hours straight, on coffee and good-will.
So when they left, went to get coffee or whatever it is photo shoot people do when they're not herding us, we just collapsed into each other, stories of films and fishing and friends spilling up like fountains of unspoken 'I missed you' and 'I wanted you" and 'no-one else was you'.
If I tried I couldn't remember who moved first, you, round cheek into my sharp nose, or me, long chin into your soft shoulder. We moved, and then we were kissing, full tongue-sucking, teeth-grinding men kisses, no boyish waiting, straight for the heat and lust and come, hands fumbling for zips and belts and cocks. I won, slipping to my knees to take you full in my mouth, thick round head, curly musky hair nested at the root, smelling just like I remembered. Tasting just like you, like Karl, like hot sex and warm love, so good, so rich. We're getting old, you didn't last long, or maybe we just needed to stop pretending, be together, let things find a rhythm again, the way we did on the plains of Gorgoroth, at Edoras, above Dunharrow.
We heard them first, before they came in, and I thought we re-arrranged ourselves pretty well until this photo came out: my cock still stiff inside my pants, lips dry from wiping you off them, last drops of your self you hadn't licked sucked swallowed taken back before I got them all; Your fly undone, pants not fully up, eyes black pools of just-sated lust soaking up the lights, giving nothing, and everything, back to the camera.
That was what, 4 years ago? We've been together since. Fuck reputation, fuck rumor. Take all the photos you want, folks. We don't run in your herd. We're wild, and we run together.
Date: Sat Apr 30, 2005 12:24:44 America/Vancouver
To: karl urban
Subject: wild horses/another life
We thought the shoot was over, remember? I'd come in from Morocco, you from some promotion at home, hitting LA at the same time from opposite directions. Tired men, not the young studs of Rings but older, not quite as quick to recover from travel, from hours of cameras and lights and 'smile' and 'stand there please'. op twenty-four hours straight, on coffee and good-will.
So when they left, went to get coffee or whatever it is photo shoot people do when they're not herding us, we just collapsed into each other, stories of films and fishing and friends spilling up like fountains of unspoken 'I missed you' and 'I wanted you" and 'no-one else was you'.
If I tried I couldn't remember who moved first, you, round cheek into my sharp nose, or me, long chin into your soft shoulder. We moved, and then we were kissing, full tongue-sucking, teeth-grinding men kisses, no boyish waiting, straight for the heat and lust and come, hands fumbling for zips and belts and cocks. I won, slipping to my knees to take you full in my mouth, thick round head, curly musky hair nested at the root, smelling just like I remembered. Tasting just like you, like Karl, like hot sex and warm love, so good, so rich. We're getting old, you didn't last long, or maybe we just needed to stop pretending, be together, let things find a rhythm again, the way we did on the plains of Gorgoroth, at Edoras, above Dunharrow.
We heard them first, before they came in, and I thought we re-arrranged ourselves pretty well until this photo came out: my cock still stiff inside my pants, lips dry from wiping you off them, last drops of your self you hadn't licked sucked swallowed taken back before I got them all; Your fly undone, pants not fully up, eyes black pools of just-sated lust soaking up the lights, giving nothing, and everything, back to the camera.
That was what, 4 years ago? We've been together since. Fuck reputation, fuck rumor. Take all the photos you want, folks. We don't run in your herd. We're wild, and we run together.
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it just...
Well, I had seen the photo before, but your take on it made me look at it in a very different light *ggg*
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I love that line!
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Lovely ficlet! Now I see the pic in a different way! *g*