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fellowshippers2007-01-06 10:59 pm
v-angelique.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2007-01-06 10:59 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Contingencies
Title: Contingencies
Author: Viktoria Angelique (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
v_angelique)
Pairing: DM/VM
Rating: light R
Disclaimer: Not. True.
Summary: I should be sleeping but I was in a mood and so I wrote this ficlet, thinking about how Dom is different in large groups than he is with one other person, at least in my head.
Viggo tastes the inside of Dom's upper lip, a quick lick, a probe with the tip of his tongue. They are drunk this evening, drunk and Dom is giddy, gropey, too far gone for this to be happenstance. They need to move away from each other and away from the train wreck that is what is about to happen, but Viggo won't let it happen. He needs this strange connection.
Dom is not duplicitous. But yet, he is also not needy; he is strange tonight, a phantasmagoria of the shapes and shadows that are himself. Viggo blinks a few times as if the image will resolve, but Dom is moving too quickly, his hand is warm and cupping the skin of Viggo's side, Viggo's blue cotton shirt falling lightly atop his hand, forming an envelope for the stealthy digits as they sneak up to tickle vulnerable ribs. Dom's hair falls in his eyes as he looks at Viggo, as he doesn't stare but rather probes, asks questions with a sultry gaze that is too complex, too Dominic. Viggo is confused, but on the other hand he is not. He has known this all along.
They didn't plan to be together tonight, alone, but they are. They didn't plan on the unseasonably warm weather or the tall grass in Viggo's backyard or the hum of the cicadas or the dew beginning to cling to their clothes. They didn't count on how sweet and cloying the alcohol would be, the mint juleps Dom conjured up on a whim.
Viggo certainly didn't count on the way Dom's teeth would catch the fragile skin near the base of his throat, on the subtle "ah!" he would gasp as biting turned to sucking, or on how Dom's cock would feel underneath loose denim, dragging against his own.
You never do plan for these things.
Life can't be defined by contingencies.
Author: Viktoria Angelique (
v_angelique)Pairing: DM/VM
Rating: light R
Disclaimer: Not. True.
Summary: I should be sleeping but I was in a mood and so I wrote this ficlet, thinking about how Dom is different in large groups than he is with one other person, at least in my head.
Viggo tastes the inside of Dom's upper lip, a quick lick, a probe with the tip of his tongue. They are drunk this evening, drunk and Dom is giddy, gropey, too far gone for this to be happenstance. They need to move away from each other and away from the train wreck that is what is about to happen, but Viggo won't let it happen. He needs this strange connection.
Dom is not duplicitous. But yet, he is also not needy; he is strange tonight, a phantasmagoria of the shapes and shadows that are himself. Viggo blinks a few times as if the image will resolve, but Dom is moving too quickly, his hand is warm and cupping the skin of Viggo's side, Viggo's blue cotton shirt falling lightly atop his hand, forming an envelope for the stealthy digits as they sneak up to tickle vulnerable ribs. Dom's hair falls in his eyes as he looks at Viggo, as he doesn't stare but rather probes, asks questions with a sultry gaze that is too complex, too Dominic. Viggo is confused, but on the other hand he is not. He has known this all along.
They didn't plan to be together tonight, alone, but they are. They didn't plan on the unseasonably warm weather or the tall grass in Viggo's backyard or the hum of the cicadas or the dew beginning to cling to their clothes. They didn't count on how sweet and cloying the alcohol would be, the mint juleps Dom conjured up on a whim.
Viggo certainly didn't count on the way Dom's teeth would catch the fragile skin near the base of his throat, on the subtle "ah!" he would gasp as biting turned to sucking, or on how Dom's cock would feel underneath loose denim, dragging against his own.
You never do plan for these things.
Life can't be defined by contingencies.
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as he doesn't stare but rather probes, asks questions with a sultry gaze that is too complex, too Dominic Great line.
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Very lovely images. I liked a lot.
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*hugs*
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I've been meaning for ages to use the word "phantasmagoria" in a fic, as it is one of my favourite words. Lol.