| Title: Moonlight Study Author: Jo Series: Moments In Time, part 1 Rating: PG13 Pairing: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom Summary: a study of sleep Disclaimers: didn't happen...well, it could have but they certainly didn't tell me about it so that would make this one of those odd coincidences Notes: this is 1st person POV, something I'm not all that comfortable writing but occasionally I can pull it off. Thanks to Wendy for betaing it for me...again. *g*
His tousled hair spreads out around his head on the pillow, the dark strands a sharp contrast to the snowy white of the pillowcase. Those eyes, so gorgeous to look at, are closed as he slumbers. My eyes study his face, taking in every small detail. The way his brows gracefully arch over his eyes. The faint hint of stubble that just covers the line of his jaw, his chin, his upper lip. I visually trace the line of his mouth and remember the taste of his lips beneath mine when we kiss. It suits his face so well. Right now, those lips are parted slightly as he breathes softly. He looks so like a little boy lying there, his face open and innocent, his hair mussed from sleep. My eyes drift lower, down the column of his throat and across his broad shoulders. My gaze roams over the smooth planes of his chest and down to his abdomen. I center on his naval and smile once again. The small hollow is perfect, begging for my tongue to tease it. Tempting me to taste him. Almost, I give in, imagining his reaction if I were to go over and touch just the tip of my tongue there. As I study him, he makes a small sound and shifts on the bed, rolling to his side. One strong arm slips under the pillow, cradling it to his ear, as he pulls his leg up slightly. The sheet slips, exposing one side fully. He is now bare from head to foot down his right side. My eyes sweep over him as he continues to slumber. I admire the line of him as he lies quietly, taking in the length of his leg and the muscles there. I can just barely make out the hollow of his hip, shadowed deeply from the way he is positioned. I slowly cross the room, my eyes on him, and pull the curtain back a tad, letting in more cool moonlight. I turn and study him again. His hair is very tousled and mussed now, a little shaggy in his sleep as he has kept the longer length -- a momento of Aragorn he calls it. I follow the lines of his back, enjoying the way the muscles interlock and shift as he moves, thinking of the way those muscles feel under my hands and fingers. My eyes slowly move lower, following his spine down to the taut curve of his buttocks, dipping briefly into the shadowed cleft that seperates them. I move lower still, my gaze roving down across the back of his thighs and his calves. Again, I move, crossing the room to face him from the front once more. My eyes drift back up the full length of his body, slowly moving across muscle and bone encased in smooth, lightly tanned skin. His free arm rests at his side, bent at the elbow so his hand is draped down his stomach, his fingertips just barely brushing the mattress. I tilt my head slightly as my gaze moves higher, across his bare chest, up to his face. My breath catches in my throat as I see his eyes are now open, watching me intently. They glitter slightly in the light coming through the window. Then, he smiles and lifts his hand towards me. "Orli," he whispers, his voice husky from sleep, the soft accent a little thicker, "come back to bed." Without speaking, I slip under the sheet and slide towards him. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me up against his body. I nestle my head in the curve of his shoulder as my knee gently slips between his thighs. He kisses the top of my head softly and holds me tightly. Within minutes, his slow, even breathing clues me in to the fact that he is once more sleeping. I smile faintly in the dark and press a soft, lingering kiss to his collarbone. Snuggling up against him, I breathe deeply, relishing his crisp, clean scent as I close my eyes and let my mind drift before dreams claim me.
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