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fellowshippers2003-10-11 12:47 pm
shellies.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2003-10-11 12:47 pm
Permanence, KU/SB PG
Title: Permanence
Author: Shelly
Pairing: Karl Urban/Sean Bean
Rating: PG
Summary: Karl hadn’t been there when Sean had gotten it.
Archive: Little Things
Disclaimer: Everyone point at me and say "liar."
Notes: For the Flashfic Challenge. This is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
goodtwin. She wanted licking/loving of tattoos. This is my first time going outside of the HobbitsnOrli. Meep. Thanks to captnobvious for looking it over!
Karl hadn’t been there when Sean had gotten it.
He hadn’t even been invited. That wasn’t because they weren’t all mates, or that he wasn’t well liked. He just wasn’t one of them. The Fellowship. The Nine. No, he was just Éomer, heir to the Rohan throne. Nothing to scoff at, but not one of them.
He’d seen the photos, heard the stories. Heard the stories a million times in fact—on set, in magazines, on television interviews. But he hadn’t been there. Didn’t get the chance to see Astin scrutinize the room like a health inspector or Elijah wail like a little girl as his hip bled.
He’d only gotten to see the end result—the nine tattoos that showed their bond. Their eternal brotherhood. Symbolic, and the like.
He’d be more jealous if he didn’t understand. But he did, deeply. Because even if he hadn’t been one of the nine, Karl felt it to. The fact that, tattoos or not, they were bonded, all of them. The hobbits and elves and men and orcs and Peter and Fran and the crew—the whole lot. Forever a part of something bigger than they’d ever dreamed.
But now he was getting sentimental.
He looked at the tattoo now, half hidden by pale yellow sheets. Sean’s head is slumped inward, and his nose nearly touches it. If he still had Boromir’s hair, it would be covered.
Karl didn’t have one of his own, but he loved Sean’s. He loved to look at it and touch it and feel it under his fingers. He loved to taste it, salty with Sean’s sweat. He didn’t care much for the other tattoo—not a big Sheffield United fan to begin with and, really, the other one just meant so much more.
Karl hadn’t been there when he’d gotten it, but he’d been there when Sean had gotten home. Other than The Nine, he’d been the first to peel off the bandage and take a peek at the scabby wound that would eventually be a foreign symbol of a make-believe language that meant something to them. He was the first to rub fragrance-free, hypo-allergenic lotion on it, and he was probably the only who ever to bother Sean about scratching it.
Sean had only scratched it at night, walking around his apartment, starkers and looking for a snack. He’d never thought Karl would catch him, but he always had. Those had been the best nights, full of playful teasing and gentle caresses. Long, slow lovemaking and…
He was getting sentimental again.
Karl wondered just how much time had passed already this morning, lying here and pondering tattoos. Seemed like a waste of time, really, when the real thing was right there.
He leaned forward so that his nose was nearly level with Sean’s. Softly, he licked up the side of Sean’s shoulder, lingering at the tattoo. He kissed it once before licking it again, then blew on it. Sean shivered in his sleep, mumbled something incoherent.
Karl smiled and kissed his shoulder once more. Sean sighed a little and moved in closer, wrapping his arm—not The Arm, but the other—around Karl.
Karl moved closer, allowed Sean to fold their bodies together. He could no longer see the tattoo, but that didn’t matter.
He knew it would always be there.
End.
Author: Shelly
Pairing: Karl Urban/Sean Bean
Rating: PG
Summary: Karl hadn’t been there when Sean had gotten it.
Archive: Little Things
Disclaimer: Everyone point at me and say "liar."
Notes: For the Flashfic Challenge. This is for
goodtwin. She wanted licking/loving of tattoos. This is my first time going outside of the HobbitsnOrli. Meep. Thanks to captnobvious for looking it over!Permanence
Karl hadn’t been there when Sean had gotten it.
He hadn’t even been invited. That wasn’t because they weren’t all mates, or that he wasn’t well liked. He just wasn’t one of them. The Fellowship. The Nine. No, he was just Éomer, heir to the Rohan throne. Nothing to scoff at, but not one of them.
He’d seen the photos, heard the stories. Heard the stories a million times in fact—on set, in magazines, on television interviews. But he hadn’t been there. Didn’t get the chance to see Astin scrutinize the room like a health inspector or Elijah wail like a little girl as his hip bled.
He’d only gotten to see the end result—the nine tattoos that showed their bond. Their eternal brotherhood. Symbolic, and the like.
He’d be more jealous if he didn’t understand. But he did, deeply. Because even if he hadn’t been one of the nine, Karl felt it to. The fact that, tattoos or not, they were bonded, all of them. The hobbits and elves and men and orcs and Peter and Fran and the crew—the whole lot. Forever a part of something bigger than they’d ever dreamed.
But now he was getting sentimental.
He looked at the tattoo now, half hidden by pale yellow sheets. Sean’s head is slumped inward, and his nose nearly touches it. If he still had Boromir’s hair, it would be covered.
Karl didn’t have one of his own, but he loved Sean’s. He loved to look at it and touch it and feel it under his fingers. He loved to taste it, salty with Sean’s sweat. He didn’t care much for the other tattoo—not a big Sheffield United fan to begin with and, really, the other one just meant so much more.
Karl hadn’t been there when he’d gotten it, but he’d been there when Sean had gotten home. Other than The Nine, he’d been the first to peel off the bandage and take a peek at the scabby wound that would eventually be a foreign symbol of a make-believe language that meant something to them. He was the first to rub fragrance-free, hypo-allergenic lotion on it, and he was probably the only who ever to bother Sean about scratching it.
Sean had only scratched it at night, walking around his apartment, starkers and looking for a snack. He’d never thought Karl would catch him, but he always had. Those had been the best nights, full of playful teasing and gentle caresses. Long, slow lovemaking and…
He was getting sentimental again.
Karl wondered just how much time had passed already this morning, lying here and pondering tattoos. Seemed like a waste of time, really, when the real thing was right there.
He leaned forward so that his nose was nearly level with Sean’s. Softly, he licked up the side of Sean’s shoulder, lingering at the tattoo. He kissed it once before licking it again, then blew on it. Sean shivered in his sleep, mumbled something incoherent.
Karl smiled and kissed his shoulder once more. Sean sighed a little and moved in closer, wrapping his arm—not The Arm, but the other—around Karl.
Karl moved closer, allowed Sean to fold their bodies together. He could no longer see the tattoo, but that didn’t matter.
He knew it would always be there.
End.
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