Cherish

Viggo pushed up off the step he sat on when the two men walked up to the brownstone house. They were laughing, and the sound was genuine and infectious. David saw him, halted, and a flush made his face almost the same hue as his strawberry-blond hair. “Viggo!”

Karl hung back slightly and leaned against the stone railing of the steps. “Been a while, Viggo. Saw your latest, Hidalgo. I liked it a lot.”

Viggo possessively slipped an arm around David’s back and kissed him quickly. “Did you? Thanks. Heard you have a few movies coming out soon. That why the long hair is cropped?”

The Kiwi smiled, not missing the sudden show of possessiveness that was meant to tell him to back the fuck off. He hadn’t moved forward so he assumed that Viggo wasn’t feeling all that confident about David right now. “Things have been picking up in the offers department since the trilogy. Seems some people are taking notice of me.” Let the man wonder how he meant that exactly.

David decided to interject something in the tense moment before it turned nasty. “Bumped into Karl at the coffee shop. We spent the afternoon catching up over coffee and dinner.”

“Really,” Viggo’s gaze never strayed from the dark haired New Zealander. “That’s nice.” Finally and slowly he forced his eyes towards David. “I tried calling you, but you weren’t answering your cell.”

“Don’t you remember? It fell that time, down the steps here, and I still need to get a new one.” Why weren’t they being friendlier towards each other? They’d had a great friendship in New Zealand, and he couldn’t understand why now they were so cold. It never occurred to him that both men wanted him, and that made them tense.

Karl pursed his lips, smiled, and then shrugged. “I better go. Viggo, good to see you.”

“You too,” Viggo softly replied, but never smiled.

“David, let’s do this again. Today was great,” and he waved as he turned and headed back the way they had come.

David could sense the tenseness in Viggo. Entering the brownstone he rented he climbed the stairs to his apartment on the second floor, and unlocked the door. “Oh, I bought you a gift today,” he said as he pulled the book out of the bag.

Viggo took the book, tossed it on the recliner, and yanked David’s body to his. Without a pause he held the man immobile by burrowing a hand in his short red hair so his mouth could devour the other man’s. Within seconds David’s harsh breathing fanned over his face, and a soft moan of pleasure escaped and was swallowed by Viggo’s kiss.

David groaned when the older man’s hips began to rub against his. There was a definite steeliness behind the zipper of Viggo’s jeans, and he grew hard himself in response. He was give qua quarter as the kisses continued until he was gasping for air and those talented artist’s hands knew where to touch, where to squeeze softly, and where to stroke to make him burn.

They fell on the sofa, and before David knew how it had gone so fast his legs were draped over Viggo’s shoulders, and the man was filling him. Their coupling was hard, urgent, and David saw stars when he came. Viggo collapsed over him, and after a moment moved back and sat there. “Let’s go into the bedroom,” he hoarsely said, holding out a hand.

There were a few seconds of hesitation before David put a hand in the one held out to him. When his lover stood and pulled him up their eyes met for a moment before Viggo led the way to the bedroom.

Hours later David came out while tying a robe. He could use a cold drink right now. Viggo was tireless tonight, but was now sleeping. With a glass of water in hand he was headed back to the bedroom when he saw the book on the chair and it brought him to a complete halt. Suddenly David wished they were at Viggo’s so he could sneak out and go home to be alone. “He didn’t even look at it,” he whispered, going to the chair and gazing down at the cover. Never once glanced at it as though it hadn’t been important. Not like David had put hours of thought into the gift. It was more that he’d seen it, and thought of Viggo so he’d purchased it.

Falling on the sofa he set the glass on the coffee table and lowered his face into his hands. Viggo wasn’t an inconsiderate man, not by any means, but David now realized that the man had wanted to lay claim to what was his, and he’d done it quite well too. David was reminded of his weakness for the Dutch actor, and instead of basking in the glow of the fact that Viggo was his he felt trapped and closed in.