*****
"Take me into your darkest hour,
and I'll never desert you.
I'll stand by you."
*****
Sean had to be, thought Viggo that night, scowling up at the ceiling of his own bedroom, one of the most stubborn men he had ever met.
Okay, that was partly incorrect.
Sean was without doubt the most stubborn man he had ever fallen in love with.
And to make matters worse, Viggo had just had to go and tell him.
With a sigh, he rolled over onto his stomach, rubbing slightly onto the sheets--but fuck, he was still half-hard.
'You sound a little out of breath, man,' had teased Elijah on the phone. 'What were you... oh. Ooh!'
Viggo inwardly groaned, just thinking about Elijah's leering tone. Sooner or later he should remember to tell the kid that he didn't pull it off as well as he thought. He definitely needed more practice to erase that Junior High kind of effect, for instance.
And Elijah had been joking, of course. Of course, he couldn't have known that Viggo really *had* been so close to having Sean's mouth on his cock.
Oh, fuck.
Wrong line of thoughts. Frustrated, Viggo rolled over again, kicking away the sheets, laying sprawled on the bed, willing his hands to be still and his hard-on to just go away and let him the hell alone. He had thinking to do, he didn't need the distraction. Plus, for some reason, the thought of jerking off wasn't really all that appealing, right now.
Maybe because he could have had Sean's hand on him, instead of his own.
He wondered if Sean was in his own room just then, having the same problems.
If he knew the fucker, Viggo thought darkly, he was probably 'having a wank' right now. Viggo tried not to think about that in too graphic detail.
But then again, maybe not. Sean had looked pretty shaken, when Viggo had left him. At that thought, guilt kicked in, and that worked like magic on his little problem--in moments, all Viggo could think about was that Sean wasn't really having a great week. Viggo suspected he had just made it worse with his little confession. He wasn't regretting it, though. It wasn't that. He really wasn't sure what it was--and that was precisely why he had just risked to sending it all to hell.
And that brought him back again on topic: as annoyed as he'd been with Lij's bad timing, he was grateful, too. Thinking back on it now, alone in his room, it had been an half-assed idea from the beginning.
It wasn't the sex. Sex was not the real issue between them--now more than ever he was certain of that. He had just been... curious, he supposed. Of seeing how far Sean could go, before... before admitting the Other Thing as well.
Really bad plan.
If Lij hadn't stopped them with his call, Viggo was sure he and Sean would have been fucking right now; and as appealing as *that* idea was, it was also the single worst thing Viggo could envision happening to them.
They simply couldn't go at it as if it came baggage-free. There was some damn major baggage there, and it couldn't be ignored. Not anymore. The Other Thing. The pink elephant in the middle of their fucked-up emotional living-room. That Viggo had said it out loud didn't really change anything. It would, in the end, just ruin it all.
Viggo had taken on himself the task of watching over Sean, at the beginning of this little, maybe insane Fugue-time they had embarked in. He had sworn to himself he would've taken care of Sean. And that entailed, he supposed, taking care of himself, too, not letting himself panic and screw it all up once and for all.
Sean just didn't need that--and, of course, neither did he.
He would not let Boromir die on him again, he resolved. He would not let Sean drift apart and leave him. Again. He simply... would not.
And trying to hold firmly onto that simple thought, Viggo finally drifted off to sleep.
*****
When he came downstairs the next morning, Sean was talking on the phone. From his tone, it had to be his agent, or his lawyer.
Sean spotted him when he entered the living room, and the smile with which Viggo was greeted--a little tentative, yet a smile nonetheless--set his mind at ease. Sean had already turned back to his conversation, so Viggo left him at it and went to fix breakfast.
Sean joined him a little later.
"You all right?" Viggo enquired, seeing his face.
"Hm? Oh, yeah. Fine." Sean sat down, and for a while, they settled down to eat. Viggo was reaching for his coffee, when Sean said, "I have to go back."
Viggo watched his own hand waver a little, then stayed it and picked up the mug. "When?" he asked, satisfied at how normal his voice sounded.
"Tomorrow. In the afternoon, at the last." Sean sighed. "She's already booked my ticket."
Viggo nodded, sipping his coffee. After all, they had known from the start it would go like this. Their staying here, separated from the world outside, was only temporary. It had just been... so brief.
"I'll give you a lift to Boise," Viggo said. "Then I think I'll stay here for a while more."
Sean nodded as well. "You know," he said after a while, "I was thinking... I'd like to see around. I mean... really see around. Not like yesterday." He looked up. "Would you come with me?"
What a question, Viggo thought. "Sure. Just let me take a shower," he started to say, then inspiration struck. "Why don't you make some sandwiches, or something? There's a place I'd like you to see--it's a bit far, so we could..."
"... have a picnic?"
He and Sean exchanged a look, and Viggo knew they wouldn't mention what had happened the night before. Today, they would work at just being there, together, enjoying themselves. Viggo smiled. "Yeah," he nodded, and saw a comprehending smile dawn on Sean's face.
"Today," Sean said, as if reading his mind--as if he was making a promise--"will be a perfect day."
A promise, Viggo thought while heading for his shower, that he would do his best to keep.
*****
The trail Viggo chose was the one he had wanted to show Sean since their arrival, but never got around to because of... well, of Sean's mood mostly, but that seemed no more a problem, now.
The sun was shining, bright and warm, so though there was a chill in the air, it was just about what was needed to make the weather lovely: early Fall, and the woods were golden and fire over their heads and under their feet. Viggo took Sean through them.
They had been walking for a little over two hours, not talking very much apart from a few occasional comments. Viggo felt content just like that, forgetting everything else for a while, pretending they could always be together like this.
And then they were there: suddenly the trees opened up before them, and they were in a clearing in the middle of the woods, yellow grass slowly dancing in the faint breeze, the ground sloping lightly, trees with red-golden leaves delimiting the glade. The snowy peaks of the Rockies were barely visible over the treetops.
Viggo had discovered this place one day when he'd just got back from New Zealand, and since then had itched to take Sean here. At first, he had had no idea why; it had come back to him just a few days ago, when he and Sean had already been on the road. A dream, he had thought. Then he had remembered.
Viggo turned around to see Sean taking it in with a look of wonder on his face, and wondered if Sean would see it too--would remember--one day long ago, on a brilliant New Zealand afternoon, when the sun over them had been warmer, the yellow in the grass different, and different the blue over their heads.
Just a look into Sean's eyes, when Sean turned to gaze wonderingly at him, and he had no more need to ask.
He sat down in the long yellow grass. "Beautiful, isn't it," he stated proudly, as if he owned it all.
Sean nodded silently, taking his time looking around. Just for the look on his face, Viggo thought: just for that, the day would have been perfect already.
He heard Sean sitting down next to him, unbuckling the backpack Viggo had lent him, but he didn't turn, his eyes focused on the warm colors of the woods, the deep violet of the mountains. He wished he had remembered to take his camera with them...
Then he heard the faint 'click'.
Sean laughed when he turned to look at him, and lowered the camera--Viggo's camera--with a smile. "I borrowed it while you were in the shower," he explained. "I just thought..." Then he shrugged. "I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all." Viggo smiled back. It was amazing, how their minds apparently worked along the same paths. Scary. Wonderful. Viggo decided he didn't really care which one.
"Just think of it as payback for all the shots of me you took in New Zealand," Sean joked, and took another pic.
Viggo felt himself blushing a little, and looked away. Surely he hadn't been so obvious...?
"I took it as a compliment, personally," Sean continued, still keeping him in the camera's lens. "I mean, all those young pretty things around, and every time I turned there you were, with this thing aimed at me..."
Viggo was beginning to feel a little annoyed. So, all right, he had kind of stalked Sean back then, for a time. Most of the pictures he hadn't used in his book--most of them were in his studio back home, in L.A. Just for him, not the world, to see. Sean didn't have to know that, though... he already sounded all too smug.
"Are you having fun?" Viggo asked, annoyed all the more at finding his voice so plaintive. Sean lowered the camera once again.
"I'm not teasing you, Vig," he said, quietly, and Viggo could now see he was actually serious. "It felt rather good."
Viggo considered this, then shook his head, wonderingly. "We're freaks," he said, and--oh God--he giggled.
Sean's eyes went as wide as small saucers. "You just giggled!"
"Did not!" Viggo protested--then ruined it by giggling again.
The moment was captured on film, before the camera was laid down. "You did! It was an honest to God giggle... Do that again!"
Viggo shook his head, feeling oddly happy, and a bit reckless, as he hadn't in... decades, perhaps. Just because, he stuck his tongue out at Sean.
Who pounced on him.
They rolled in the grass for a while, and if Viggo giggled again--which he did--Sean was in no condition to notice it, because Viggo was trying to stuff grass into his ears and, failing that, under the back of his sweater, while Sean was trying to tickle him to death, until they came to a stop, panting and chuckling--giggling, really--in the middle of the clearing, Sean halfway on top of Viggo, keeping Viggo's wrists down with both his hands.
When Viggo looked up, the sky was very blue, full of light, and there was light in Sean's eyes as well--and just as brilliant.
"Well," was all he could come up with, Sean's lips just a breath away from his, "this would be when my cell rings."
"Thank God I left it back home, then," was Sean's breathless answer. Then, suddenly, they seemed not to see the humour of the situation anymore, and Viggo just raised his head, and Sean lowered his own--and they met halfway, and finally, finally, the world felt right again.
*****
Viggo didn't know how much time they spent like that, just kissing, enjoying the closeness, the feeling of each other's mouths and arms and weight, stroking, caressing, touching, stretching the moments, with no hurry to do or say anything, or to really move at all. It was just that kind of thing, when all you have is some sort of liquid warmth in your belly, burning you slowly, content enough, for a while, to just simmer and feel good. And God, how good they felt, and the sun was warm over them, the woods quiet all around.
They drifted off to sleep.
When Viggo awoke again, he was laying on his back in the grass. He got up on his elbows, and looking down he found Sean, splayed on his stomach between Viggo's legs. It was erotic, seeing him like this; but there was something more. Sean's eyes were open, looking up at him. His head was warm against Viggo's stomach, and as he watched, Sean lifted his hand, slowly caressing Viggo's side.
Had Sean been watching him, while he slept?
Viggo shivered slightly and shakily said, "Deja vu."
Sean chuckled, sending more of the delicious shivers running through him. "You remember too, then," he said.
Viggo nodded. He still didn't exactly know why, but yes, he remembered. The first day, upon arriving, he recalled how important had seemed to him, that he could show the clearing to Sean. He had wondered why... then the memories had come back.
Waking up, finding Sean with him. Watching him. Smiling at him.
He had remembered, and he had known--because happiness didn't happen to him so often, or so perfectly.
"I love you, you know," Sean said now, quietly, his hand resting over Viggo's heart.
For a moment, Viggo thought his heart had stopped. Then he recovered, and simply nodded again: of course he knew. He had never really doubted that--but God, it still took his breath away, hearing Sean finally saying it... finally trusting Viggo enough to say it.
If only it could be enough.
"Let me," Sean whispered, and took his hand down on Viggo's fly.
"You don't have to," Viggo said, and watched the smile blossom on Sean's lips.
"I know."
A smile that said that there was no stranger between them this time, no challenges to meet, no point to prove, no nothing. Just the two of them now. Alone.
And it was right.
Viggo watched as Sean unbuttoned his fly, then as he gently tugged his jeans and underwear down just past his hips. The air was chilly on his exposed flesh, but soon Sean's hands were on him, big and warm, his long fingers taking hold of Viggo's hips, brushing lightly, lovingly, over the elvish Nine tattooed on his right hip--and the cold was not much of a problem anymore.
He was no more than half-hard, but seeing Sean freeing him of his clothes, seeing him watching Viggo's cock with that fond, hungry look, was correcting the situation quickly. When Sean leaned down, inhaled deeply, and pressed a small, little kiss on the side of his cock, Viggo couldn't help a moan, less for the sensation of Sean's lips of him--it was after all just a little peck--than for the love that simple gesture conveyed to Viggo. For how much Sean cared about him, and was no more afraid to show--not here, at least, not to him--for the first time.
"Lovely," Sean murmured, and there that was that fond little smile again, his breath just teasing Viggo, making him harden more and more. "I could toy with this for hours."
"Oh God, please no," Viggo couldn't help but laugh, and it felt so good--yeah, he'd always known that with Sean it would be like this, once past the doubts and the fears. Laughter. Love. "Don't you *dare!*"
Sean laughed, too. "Next time, then," and without any more warning he lowered his head and took Viggo's cock into his mouth.
It wasn't, technically speaking, the best blowjob Viggo had ever had, he would reflect later on--too much emotional stress and the first time with each other, Viggo had hardly expected for it to be--yet, in a way, it was.
Because although his position was uncomfortable and the ground hard and chilly under his back, and his jeans, bundled up just under his ass, weren't allowing him much maneuvering space, and the way Sean was holding him didn't allow him to use his hands on Viggo as well--which made it a little more awkward still--Viggo felt devoured, consumed, by the feeling behind it... by the way Sean was holding him close, taking care to lift Viggo's hips and passing an arm under his ass so he wouldn't be hurt by twigs and get splinters, by the way Viggo could feel Sean's eyes burning into him, even if after the first few seconds he couldn't stand on his elbows to watch him anymore.
Viggo was warm all over, inside and out, quietly melting away, a slow burn that was better than any blasting fire he had ever experienced before.
He reached down blindly, closing his hands over Sean's head, entangling his fingers in Sean's hair, hearing him groan, feeling it, and God, how he wished he could move his legs, wrap them around Sean, wrap all of himself around him and never let him go.
"Sean," he gasped, the sky so blue, so full of light over him, that had to be the reason why there suddenly were tears in his eyes. He tightened his grip on Sean's head, something fierce and terrifying burning its way through him, blinding him with its light. He felt his lips moving, forming the words--"Love you"--like he was learning a prayer.
When he came, Sean's hands still holding him tight, keeping him close, it was like nothing he had ever experienced before.
It hadn't been perfect.
And it had been so much more.
*****
They stayed there for a while, Sean insisting he didn't need the favor returned, because that was not what it was about, so Viggo could just nod, for once at a loss for words, and sitting with his back against a tree he took Sean with him, to lay between his legs, his back against Viggo's chest. As the afternoon wore away, they ate, quietly enjoying the peace and each other's company.
And they talked.
Mostly about inane things, but then the topics changed. Viggo had been talking about the new movie he'd just been filming during the summer, when Sean wondered, almost casually, what would happen with his Macbeth performances, which should have started at the end of the month in London. And from there, as if a dam had broken, words came, and Sean told him about the night of the arrest... the shock of being caught, the humiliation of the arrest, and the worse one at the look on the cop's face when he was recognized--and that damn paparazzi happening by and getting lucky.
Sean didn't spare himself anything: he told Viggo every detail, every thought that had crossed his mind. And Viggo could only listen, and hold him tight, as he had done that night in L.A., but this time he had his face pressed into Sean's shoulder, while Sean's hand slowly caressed his hair, his neck, as if they were talking about the weather or something.
"You scared me, Bean," Viggo whispered when Sean was finished. "That night at your place. You were just... going along, putting yourself in my hands, like some kind of puppet. I was about to freak out."
"You didn't, though." A soft sigh, Sean's hands coming down to rest on Viggo's, above Sean's stomach.
"'Cause it didn't last for long. After you had some sleep, you were back to your usual annoying self."
Sean chuckled, until Viggo bit gently on his shoulder, and he shuddered and was quiet.
"Don't scare me like that anymore." Viggo's quiet words were a pleading command. The cool autumn breeze took them away.
"I was scared," Sean confessed, quietly, after a while. Then sighed. "The day we spent together at your place. You were..." He trailed off, then tilted his head backwards, letting it rest on Viggo's shoulder, green eyes looking briefly up, then away. "You were so damn *good,* Viggo. It was just so... perfect, being there with you, seeing you again... I almost forgot myself, you know. A couple of times." He squeezed Viggo's hands. "I almost forgot everything I had always told myself could never work for us, and I just..." He trailed off once more.
Viggo was just there with him, though, didn't need further explanation. "So you went, and..."
"Yeah." Sean gently freed himself from Viggo's embrace, turning to look him in the eye. "I don't know, Viggo. It seemed all so clear, before. It hurt," he quietly admitted, sending Viggo's heart fluttering again. "But it was also all so clear. Now..." He looked away.
Viggo knew what Sean was feeling. Wasn't exactly that, the problem? Sean was afraid of ruining their relationship. So had always been Viggo. But now Viggo was tired of being afraid, tired of being afraid without Sean. Tired of knowing that Sean loved him as he loved Sean, and of fearing it couldn't be enough.
It looked like they had been afraid together, after all, of the same things, hiding from the same unspoken questions. Which was stupid, but it was what it was. And for Sean, now, there was the other issue as well, the one which involved labels and going public and all that shit. Not really avoidable anymore, because of what had happened.
"There's no real resolution," he heard himself say. "You already know this."
Sean nodded.
Viggo took a deep breath. He thought back to New Zealand and his arguments with Ian, and could now see them for what they were. Wanting to be left alone. Afraid of being alone. Afraid of being with someone--with Sean.
He was so tired of being afraid--and alone.
There had to be something, once in your life... something that was worth the risk--that was worth the hurt.
Viggo wanted this--wanted them, Sean and him--to be that something.
"I'm gonna say this just this once," he started, "because I still want this day to be perfect." When Sean looked back at him, Viggo said, "About the press conference we were talking about yesterday. You ever decide to do it..." He spoke without ever releasing Sean's eyes from his, to let him see how serious he was, "I'll be right there with you."
Sean didn't answer. His eyes went wide, getting all the implications of what had just been said. In the end, they returned to their original position, back to chest, and stayed like that for a long while, saying nothing more. Just being together.
Sean was the first to talk, when already the shadows were lengthening. "Come," he simply said. "Let's go home."
*****
When they got back to the cottage, a little after the sun had set, Viggo went to check the messages on his machine. There was no new message, except the one from Sean's agent that morning. Viggo deleted it, then turned, and saw Sean sitting on the couch, looking pensively in front of him.
"I should've called them," Sean said, quietly, and Viggo understood.
"Your girls." He eased down next to Sean on the couch, this time not hesitating coming right up to him, while mentally doing the math--yeah, it was something like two a.m. in England now. "You'll call 'em tomorrow, first thing in the morning."
Sean nodded, rubbing both his hands tiredly over his face, then passing them in his hair. "I wonder how is it, I always manage to mess up so badly," he grumbled, trying to sound as he was joking.
And though Viggo didn't miss the deep sadness behind the light tone, he wouldn't have none of it in their perfect day. He slung his arm around Sean's shoulders, with his other hand tugging affectionately at a short strand of blond hair. "Yeah, you have a knack at arriving late at things," he teased, and saw Sean smile a little.
"Yeah," he sighed.
Viggo couldn't resist. "Din satans pikansjos," he muttered fondly, shoving him a little.
Sean turned his head, regarding him with a suspicious look that just about made Viggo crack up. "What was that?"
Viggo chuckled. "What? I thought you liked Danish."
Sean narrowed his eyes a little more, but chose not to comment. "Just tell me."
"I said," Viggo explained in his most serious voice, his most serious face, "'You stupid fucker.'"
Then he had barely the time to register Sean's eyes widening, before he was knocked down onto the couch, the warm weight of Sean on him, pinning him down. "I knew it," Sean was saying, half-chuckling, half-breathless. "All these years, you were calling me names."
"Yes," Viggo simply said, looking straight into Sean's eyes, serious without making any effort now. "All these years."
There was a moment, in which everything stood still, all there was was Sean, on top of him, so warm and solid and, God, the way he was looking down at him. Then the world moved again, and Sean was kissing him, as they had kissed before in the clearing, except now, it already seemed like they were coming home.
"Stay with me tonight," Sean breathed into his mouth, thumbs stroking lightly the sides of Viggo's face. "Let me stay."
"Yes--yes, of course," was all Viggo could think of saying, breathing Sean in, his hands full of Sean, as his heart was. Because tonight, of all nights, was their Perfect Night. And maybe they would have no other night.
"Stay."
*****
Coming home, Viggo thought again, his eyes caressing Sean, pale and beautiful in the dim lamplight, in Viggo's bed--finally--then following the trail his eyes had taken with his lips: Sean's forehead, the scar over his left eye, his expressive green eyes never leaving him, while Viggo's hands roamed, learning the feeling of Sean's skin, how his fingertips and his lips tingled passing over his stubble, how Sean's whole body could feel, hard and deliciously heavy, pressing down on Viggo, keeping him safe, grounded in the reality of what was happening.
Sean's nails scratched around his nipples when Viggo took Sean's cock in his hand--beautiful, uncut cock, now Viggo could see why Sean would feel the need to play with Viggo's own 'for hours,' as he'd said earlier. He rolled them over, so he was on top, but as he made to lean down and pay the proper attention to his new and much desired toy, Sean stopped him, breathing into his ear, "You know what I want."
"Tell me," Viggo said, forcing himself to look away from the hot, living beauty in his hand, his voice barely loud enough to be heard. He didn't let it go, though: he pulled a bit, experimentally--just enough to make Sean's breath hitch. He did that again, just because he could, and watched as Sean's eyes clouded over, his eyelids fluttered close for a moment before opening again, smoky dark green looking up at him, making his heart skip a beat.
"I want you," Sean gasped, breathing loud, his voice a bit hoarse now, his accent rich and thick, sending shivers up and down Viggo's spine. "Want you in me--want you to give it to me--hard." Sean's eyes gleamed, a feral look in them. "So I can feel you deep in me--feel you even after you're gone." He pushed his hips up, pushed into Viggo's hand. "I want to *know* you've been here."
Viggo had to take a moment to recover breath and speech. "Christ," he said. "You're such the romantic." And he meant it.
Sean somehow managed to look smug and sultry all in one. "So I am told." He took Viggo down on him, kissing him hard, bruising. "In me," he ordered, lips on Viggo's ear. "*Now.*"
Viggo shuddered, so hard he could barely speak. "I... I don't know. That sounds," he managed to get out, "real nice. What if..." a gasp as Sean bit his earlobe, "... what if I wanted that, too?"
"Tough luck," Sean growled, and his hand shot down to take firm possession of Viggo's cock. "Just try and stop me."
And somehow, Viggo had just known Sean in his bed would be like this--bossy and stubborn and completely in charge, no matter what they did--and he felt that now that he knew this, knew Sean, for real, he couldn't bear to let him go again... But, no. That was a thought for some other time, a time when he was alone and hurting and Sean was not there. Sean was there now. Their Perfect Night.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Viggo whispered, his hands already searching in the first drawer of the bedside table, while Sean looked at him with hungry, dark eyes, that made Viggo's hands shake.
The soft laughter from behind him when Viggo almost spilled the lube threatened to stop his heart--how much he had longed to hear Sean's beautiful laughter, these past days--so he turned back and pounced on Sean, flattening him onto the mattress, taking him into a kiss so long and fierce they came up again breathless, dizzy, and laughing as two loons.
And then, his eyes fell on the small tattoo on Sean's left hip--the Fellowship tattoo, that Viggo was seeing for the first time. With a start, he realized it matched his own on the right exactly, when they stayed like this--when they embraced.
Viggo knew that Orlando had searched out Sean in L.A. after the filming was over, so Sean too could have the tattoo the rest of them had gotten in New Zealand. Orlando had been there the day Viggo had had his own made.
Sean could probably read the question in his eyes, because he smiled, kind of a shy, defensive smile, and said, "Yeah, once and for all. I'm a bloody sap. I thought, if we couldn't have matched rings..."
Viggo traced the small elvish Nine with his fingertips, swirls of black ink on pale, soft skin. "Fucker," he said, softly, not trusting his voice with more.
Sean just leaned up to kiss him briefly on the lips. "You too," he returned, and really, Viggo fiercely thought, who the hell cared about hearts and flowers? This so-called romance was overrated. No one had ever said 'I love you' to him in a more beautiful way.
Viggo would have taken his time preparing him. Sean would have none of it. He took Viggo's cock in both hands, coating it with lube, then he urged him on between his legs, leaning up to take his mouth into another searing kiss, so Viggo could feel them gasp together as he entered Sean, could feel Sean's tongue invading his mouth as he invaded Sean's body, and the hard bite on his bottom lip when he was finally buried deep inside. He licked his bruised lip, fighting to retain some control, to not start thrusting right away, letting Sean have time to adjust.
But it looked like Sean didn't need all that time, after all: he released Viggo's lips, letting himself drop back on the bed, his hands going to the headboard behind his head, gripping it hard. "Fuck, that hurts," he cursed, breathing deeply for a few moments, then a wide grin spread over his face, his eyes looking dark and dangerous. He wrapped both legs around Viggo's back, gripping him hard. "Move," he ordered.
So Viggo did as he was told, grasping Sean's hips hard, digging his fingers in Sean's flesh, feeling he was about to burst into a million shards of glass--of ice, the ice that had finally let go of Sean, that had finally melted away from between them.
Sean, though, didn't seem too satisfied with the slow building pace Viggo had set. "Come *on,*" he urged Viggo, pushing back to meet his thrusts. "Harder, you bloody wanker! I'm not some bloody *girl*!"
"Harder, huh?" Viggo grinned and picked up the pace, thrusting for all he was worth, so much so that Sean winced, and soon he was driven towards the headboard with each thrust--and from the sounds he was making, deep in his throat, he was loving every second of it.
"Yeah--yeah! Fuck! That's it!" Then a look came into Sean's eyes, sort of a gleaming, mischievous light turning on, and with a softly accented voice Viggo had been used to hearing once, long ago, Sean breathed, looking right up into Viggo's eyes, managing for a moment to become someone else--
"My king."
Viggo couldn't help himself--he shuddered, his rhythm becoming even more frantic--and Sean laughed again, breathless, his breath hitching and changing into short moans and curses every time Viggo hit his prostate. "God! I *knew* it! I knew you would go for that!"
"Oh--shut... up!" Viggo gasped, but he was laughing too, more turned on than he ever remembered being.
Sean saw it, and laughed harder. "You--sick--fuck!"
"Look--who's--talking!"
Sean smiled a beatific, contented smile. "Yes," he hissed, then he took one hand between his own legs, the other gripping the headboard tighter, and pulled hard on his cock, once, twice, and he was coming, still laughing, and Viggo was, too, slamming hard into Sean one more time, then exploding, burning away--and he too was laughing, and he had probably cried out Sean's name but he wasn't really sure. God. How many years had it been, since the last time he had laughed during sex? Too many, he was sure. He and Sean--they used to laugh so much, he really should have expected it.
He was sure he had never felt anything like this--like he had just delivered the perfect line, written the perfect poem, painted the perfect picture.
Perfect.
He collapsed onto Sean's heaving chest, still inside him, both of them coated with sweat and come and so absurdly pleased with themselves--Viggo found the energy to think--they would surely make a funny picture.
"Fucker," he rasped, at last catching his breath, and another, more subdued rumble of laughter resounded beneath his ear.
"You too," Sean said, and a hand came up to stroke gently Viggo's tangled hair. Then, more quietly, "You, too."
Viggo thought he could go to sleep just like that, when he heard Sean say, quietly, "You know, I always felt that if there was to be someone who would never forget Boromir--Aragorn would've been that one."
And stupidly enough--and most annoyingly--Ian's voice from long ago suddenly echoed in Viggo's mind.
'Fool of a sodding twat! Can't you *see*?'
"He's been remembering him," Viggo now whispered, closing his eyes as the slow caress in his hair slowed even more. Was that his heart, that felt so funny inside his throat? "He'll be thinking of him until his last living day."
But by then, Sean's hand was still, and Viggo could not tell if Sean had heard him or not. He had not the heart to look.
He was almost asleep, when Sean's voice came too him, soft and maybe, just maybe, a little choked itself.
"Fucker."
Viggo drifted off to sleep with a smile, Sean's hand still in his hair, his arms keeping Sean close.
*****
Summary: Viggo needs to go somewhere.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: A Long JourneyChapters: 9 Completed: Yes
Word count: 30289 Read: 12257
Published: 31 Jul 2009 Updated: 31 Jul 2009