Viggo reached out blindly, immediately, his hands curling into Sean's hair as he kissed him hard again. Darted his tongue in and stroked everywhere, refusing to let Sean close his mouth the moment he had finished speaking. He kissed him like Sean was a lake in an oasis and Viggo was a parched, dying man who had seen water for the first time in weeks. He kissed him like he was desperate; like he was somehow overflowing with emotion and if he didn't show Sean some of it, he would explode.
He pulled away slowly, leaving a trail of saliva still connecting their mouths. His head was pressed against Sean's, staring at him- and for the briefest of moments he regretted the blindfold that covered his eyes, because he had always loved the look of Sean's eyes in desire. The colour always changed according to the light, and it had literally been years but Viggo still had not managed to categorise each one.
He didn't think he ever would. He didn't think he ever wanted to.
Stroking a hand through Sean's hair again, he breathed his words against his mouth, "I still don't know how I managed to convince you that I deserve you." His breath was shaky, and he let dirty blond strands fall through his hands. "You're a work of art, you know that? Pure artistry, from inside and out," the hand moved downwards, stroking against the stroke, built chest and brushing slightly against the nipples. "And you're asking me if you can make art."
Viggo started pulling again, taking a step back, then another, until he left Sean kneeling there again. "I'll hand you the paints for you to do anything you want with. Paint me. Paint yourself. We'll make the floor a canvas that I will take photographs of later, and I will never wipe it off because every time I work in my studio I want to be reminded of it. Of you. Of this."
He reached the table containing his paints, and he chose a few colours - dark yellow with a metallic sheen, night-blue, dirt-brown, black, pure white, rust-brown-red and blood red. Tiny little tins that he balanced on his hands before he went on his knees and placed them in front of Sean, reaching out behind the man to tug the cloth binding his hands loose. He took both of Sean's hands in his, raising them to his lips and kissing the back, gently.
Then guided them down, fingers against the paints.
no subject
He pulled away slowly, leaving a trail of saliva still connecting their mouths. His head was pressed against Sean's, staring at him- and for the briefest of moments he regretted the blindfold that covered his eyes, because he had always loved the look of Sean's eyes in desire. The colour always changed according to the light, and it had literally been years but Viggo still had not managed to categorise each one.
He didn't think he ever would. He didn't think he ever wanted to.
Stroking a hand through Sean's hair again, he breathed his words against his mouth, "I still don't know how I managed to convince you that I deserve you." His breath was shaky, and he let dirty blond strands fall through his hands. "You're a work of art, you know that? Pure artistry, from inside and out," the hand moved downwards, stroking against the stroke, built chest and brushing slightly against the nipples. "And you're asking me if you can make art."
Viggo started pulling again, taking a step back, then another, until he left Sean kneeling there again. "I'll hand you the paints for you to do anything you want with. Paint me. Paint yourself. We'll make the floor a canvas that I will take photographs of later, and I will never wipe it off because every time I work in my studio I want to be reminded of it. Of you. Of this."
He reached the table containing his paints, and he chose a few colours - dark yellow with a metallic sheen, night-blue, dirt-brown, black, pure white, rust-brown-red and blood red. Tiny little tins that he balanced on his hands before he went on his knees and placed them in front of Sean, reaching out behind the man to tug the cloth binding his hands loose. He took both of Sean's hands in his, raising them to his lips and kissing the back, gently.
Then guided them down, fingers against the paints.
"Here."