drabble: Love and Sin
Title: Love and Sin
Author: Sunshine (sunshine_3152003@yahoo.co.uk)
Archive: Rugbytackling, anywhere else please ask first (though I'll be flattered and probably say yes anyway)
Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Disclaimer: None of this is true and the author does not claim it to be. No disrespect is intended towards the actors or religion mentioned.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Mentions of slash and religion (and illusions to het sex). If that's not your thing, please do not read.
Summary: Viggo contemplates love and sin.
Feedback: Yes please! I adore it.
Notes: please read the side notes at the end of the story.
It was wrong.
If there was one thing that Viggo had learned from all of his childhood Sundays spent crammed into uncomfortable wooden pews in various Protestant and Catholic churches, it was that homosexuality was wrong. Bad. Evil, even. And all who practised it went to hell.
Which created a bit of a problem for Viggo now, whose heart was completely wrapped up in his co-star. His best friend. The love of his life. Sean Bean. Who just happened to be male as well.
And while the two men made love one cold October night, Viggo found the condemning words of his old pastors floating through his mind unbidden. Found the words judging every act between the lovers as it happened. They told him exactly what he was doing. Exactly what he was feeling. And exactly how it was wrong.
It was wrong to enjoy the feel of Sean's firm and smooth lips underneath his own. They should be a woman's soft and pliant lips instead. A woman who would yield their mouth over to Viggo's questing tongue, instead of Viggo yielding to Sean's own tongue.
It was wrong to want to hold Sean straining and leaking cock in his hand. Viggo should want to caress a pair of firm breasts, and suck on the pert nipples. Not want to suck the juices straight from Sean's body.
It was wrong to spread his legs for Sean and to allow the other man to touch him in his most intimate of spots, first with fingers and then with his swollen cock. And it was wrong for Viggo to see stars as he did it, and to feel pain and pleasure and passion and love all wrapped in one ball of flame, rolling around his chest and head and mind.
Most of all, it was wrong to love Sean with every fiber of his being.
But if it was wrong, Viggo pondered as he lay quietly in the afterglow, then how come it felt so right? How could love, any sort of love, be wrong? But if it was, Viggo rationalized as he huddled closer to the warmth of Sean's spent and sleeping body, and if he did go to hell, then so what? Because Sean would be there as well, and any place with Sean there couldn't be all that bad anyway.
The End
Side Notes: PLEASE READ BEFORE REPLYING!!! This was my first attempt at a drabble. It morphed into a quadruple drabble however, because writing short stories doesn't come easily to me. I'm a bit long-winded for it. Probably very predictable and anti-religion, but please don't take it personally anyone. I know that not all religions, churches or pastors/ministers/preachers are anti-gay, but I'm basing my story loosely on the one's that are. For the record, I AM religious, but that doesn't mean I believe in EVERYTHING that the church says. I say it's good to question things.