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amfiguree[LotR cast] [Viggo/Orlando] [PG-13]
Drinkable
Author’s Note: Inspired by the taste of 100 plus when I was dying of thirst. That drink saved my life.
Orlando drinks kisses. That’s the only way to describe it. And maybe Dominic’s being voyeuristic, but he can’t help watching the way Orlando’s lips fit perfectly with Viggo’s. The little imperfections – like Orlando’s slightly-too-thin lips, and Viggo’s almost-sloppy kissing methods – make their kisses seem just that bit more perfect.
Because love is love. And there is no such thing as picture-perfect love. And Orlando and Viggo prove it. And they’re happy. Blissfully so.
So Dom watches.
He watches Viggo lick at Orlando’s lips, demanding entry, before thoroughly exploring, filling Orlando’s mouth, and Orlando invites him in, tasting and sucking and needing, and his eyes always flutter close, as though it’s an experience involving only touch and taste, and he wants to savor it as much as he possibly can.
He watches Viggo curl his hand around the base of Orlando’s neck, as their bodies mold together, and their whimpers of need and want escape their throats. He watches as their tongues meet and fight and tangle around each other, and they’re pressed painfully together, every curve fitting the contour of the other’s body, so you can’t tell if it’s two bodies, or just one.
Orlando sighs when Viggo pulls away, their lips bruised and wet and red, and their breathing ragged, labored, and the soft sound pulls them back together again; a loving, gentle caress this time.
When Viggo leaves, it’s as though Orlando can still taste the essence of Viggo on his tongue, scorching, invading his senses, leaving a lasting imprint in his mind.
And for the rest of the day, Dom watches as Orlando licks his lips occasionally, reliving the taste of Viggo all over again.
-fin-
Drinkable
Author’s Note: Inspired by the taste of 100 plus when I was dying of thirst. That drink saved my life.
Orlando drinks kisses. That’s the only way to describe it. And maybe Dominic’s being voyeuristic, but he can’t help watching the way Orlando’s lips fit perfectly with Viggo’s. The little imperfections – like Orlando’s slightly-too-thin lips, and Viggo’s almost-sloppy kissing methods – make their kisses seem just that bit more perfect.
Because love is love. And there is no such thing as picture-perfect love. And Orlando and Viggo prove it. And they’re happy. Blissfully so.
So Dom watches.
He watches Viggo lick at Orlando’s lips, demanding entry, before thoroughly exploring, filling Orlando’s mouth, and Orlando invites him in, tasting and sucking and needing, and his eyes always flutter close, as though it’s an experience involving only touch and taste, and he wants to savor it as much as he possibly can.
He watches Viggo curl his hand around the base of Orlando’s neck, as their bodies mold together, and their whimpers of need and want escape their throats. He watches as their tongues meet and fight and tangle around each other, and they’re pressed painfully together, every curve fitting the contour of the other’s body, so you can’t tell if it’s two bodies, or just one.
Orlando sighs when Viggo pulls away, their lips bruised and wet and red, and their breathing ragged, labored, and the soft sound pulls them back together again; a loving, gentle caress this time.
When Viggo leaves, it’s as though Orlando can still taste the essence of Viggo on his tongue, scorching, invading his senses, leaving a lasting imprint in his mind.
And for the rest of the day, Dom watches as Orlando licks his lips occasionally, reliving the taste of Viggo all over again.
-fin-
