Summary: Viggo meets Sean in Italy.

Rated: NC-17

Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo

Warnings: None

Challenges:

Series: Reunion

Chapters: 3 Completed: Yes

Word count: 4321 Read: 2545

Published: 31 Jul 2009 Updated: 31 Jul 2009

He sees Sean first and has to blink hard, partly because he's still half-asleep and fuzzy from the long flight, and partly because Sean looks so damn good that it almost hurts to look at him. Viggo runs one hand over his own stubble-bristly cheek, then plucks a little self-consciously at his travel-creased cotton shirt. Sean looks like something out of Gentlemen's Quarterly---cream linen trousers, caramel belt, vanilla linen shirt. His hair is slightly shaggier than Viggo remembers, his neatly trimmed beard slightly more gold-red. Sunglasses dangle carelessly from one hand; the other taps a shiny silver cell phone against one long thigh. Viggo wishes he'd eaten a mint, worn something less threadbare, maybe cut his hair. Then Sean turns his head and catches sight of him, and he stops being self-conscious because the smile that beams in his direction is so open and happy that he forgets about his stubble and his raggedy hair.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, mate," Sean laughs when Viggo stops next to him. "My God, your hair is red."

"Henry's idea." Viggo tries to give him a one-armed hug and finds himself thoroughly embraced, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis. This is Italy, after all---men hug and kiss all the time here. So he's not too surprised when Sean angles his chin and kisses him on the mouth, but he is surprised by the warm, slippery tongue that parts his lips and brings the taste of cinnamon into his dry mouth. Despite the ache in his lower back from sitting so long and the kink in his neck from sleeping with his head against the window, every nerve in his body sings a hallelujah. He is an ocean away from his house and his canvases and his son, but he is nonetheless home.

Sean makes a little growly purr when they part and licks his lips, jade eyes bright against his tan. "I'm not sure I can wait until I get you to the villa," he tells Viggo in that low tone he uses when he's inside Viggo.

"Keep using that tone of voice and I won't make it out of here without coming in my pants," Viggo replies as evenly as his constricting throat will allow.

"Jesus," Sean breathes, and he shuts his eyes and leans his forehead against Viggo's. "We're a good pair."

Viggo breathes in and swallows Sean's scent. Clean skin, linen, the barest hint of that Givenchy cologne he favors. Sean's warm breath puffs against his face---cinnamon and a hint of chocolate and vanilla. Viggo is suddenly, ravenously hungry. He wants an espresso and an almond biscotti and Sean's cock in his mouth, not necessarily in that order. "Take me to your villa," he says, "before I embarrass us both."