(unfinished fic) A rupture of freedom
Title: A rupture of freedom
Pairing: David Cronenberg / Viggo Mortensen
Rating: R
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, it is untrue.
They had assured each other they would stay in touch, and at the time even half meant it the way you do when connections are forged on a film set.
They didn’t, it had petered out quite quickly to nothing at all. But when they met up accidentally, crossing paths in a studio and half way through lunch were laughing like there was never a gap in their partnership.
They had never fucked, it seemed like teenagers. David had never seen any need to rush and really why should they? There never once were hurried or had a quickey it was hours spent kissing and touching and sucking and release with the whole body. Viggo could go beyond boneless to something else, weightless, release of the purest sort.
David had surprised as he left the next morning, said “no words huh?” and quirked an eyebrow like he knew something and of course another artist would have seen it in Viggo’s house.
There was a soft layer of dust around the floor of the studio and the piles of papers on Viggo’s desk and table had coalesced into fossilized lumps through lack of motion.
“I read a lot.” Viggo offered instantly ashamed of his response.
***
He never expected anything from David, that was the difference, he delighted in what they had - and didn’t concern himself with the future.
It’s hard when the person you have to accuse of being unreasonable is yourself.
He never asked David for anything, never demanded any promises that they both knew could never be kept, just accepted without demanding, gave back without counting who owed who.
‘Guilt is worse than ennui for stifling the creative urges’ Viggo writes on a postcard of the Washington State Bird to David that he signs ‘your eternal soldier.’
Pairing: David Cronenberg / Viggo Mortensen
Rating: R
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, it is untrue.
They had assured each other they would stay in touch, and at the time even half meant it the way you do when connections are forged on a film set.
They didn’t, it had petered out quite quickly to nothing at all. But when they met up accidentally, crossing paths in a studio and half way through lunch were laughing like there was never a gap in their partnership.
They had never fucked, it seemed like teenagers. David had never seen any need to rush and really why should they? There never once were hurried or had a quickey it was hours spent kissing and touching and sucking and release with the whole body. Viggo could go beyond boneless to something else, weightless, release of the purest sort.
David had surprised as he left the next morning, said “no words huh?” and quirked an eyebrow like he knew something and of course another artist would have seen it in Viggo’s house.
There was a soft layer of dust around the floor of the studio and the piles of papers on Viggo’s desk and table had coalesced into fossilized lumps through lack of motion.
“I read a lot.” Viggo offered instantly ashamed of his response.
***
He never expected anything from David, that was the difference, he delighted in what they had - and didn’t concern himself with the future.
It’s hard when the person you have to accuse of being unreasonable is yourself.
He never asked David for anything, never demanded any promises that they both knew could never be kept, just accepted without demanding, gave back without counting who owed who.
‘Guilt is worse than ennui for stifling the creative urges’ Viggo writes on a postcard of the Washington State Bird to David that he signs ‘your eternal soldier.’