*****
"And when the night falls on you baby,
you're feeling all alone,
you won't be on your own,
I'll stand by you.
won't let nobody hurt you."
*****
Sean was the first to wake up the next morning, so he had time to indulge in his new, old hobby.
Watching Viggo sleep.
He couldn't really think that he had to go, and leave this little world of just the two of them behind; it seemed cruel, yet strangely appropriate--for if he had not gotten himself in trouble in the first place, he would've never ended here, in Viggo's bed, watching him sleep and thinking...
How fucking beautiful Viggo was.
How could Sean let him go?
He had to, though; staying wasn't in the deal. It was... too dangerous, for both of them. And even though he'd never felt as alive and, yeah, happy, as the day before, in Viggo's arms... Well, that was enough. Had to be. It couldn't really work--not in the long run, and that was the problem.
With Viggo, he wanted forever--or as close to forever as it was humanly possible. And if they couldn't have that... then, nothing at all was better than just to try it and see it all go to hell, no more Viggo and no more laughter and no more love.
Love.
He had to be losing his mind.
Yet, just as he was starting to work himself in a nice bout of self-pity, the most amazing, wondrous, breath-taking thing happened.
Viggo opened his eyes.
Sean was totally absorbed by the process.
It happened slowly, so delightfully slow--first Viggo stirred, just a little; then a pale blue light appeared under the dark eyelashes, and as dawn rising over the mountains, Viggo's eyes opened, slowly but steadily, until they were gazing up at Sean, sleepy and drowsy and, oh fuck, just so *sweet*.
And then... then, just as Sean realized he was holding his breath, a slow, sleepy, sweet smile followed the same path, and with a husky whisper Viggo said, "You okay?"
Sean could just nod, still not quite back to himself.
"What time is it?" Viggo asked then, when it became clear Sean wasn't about to make any sort of comment.
Sean darted his eyes to the bedside table, reading the red numbers on the alarm display; and doing that he realized that it was just a little before the time they had joined for breakfast the day before.
He looked back at Viggo.
Why not?
"It's a few minutes 'til our perfect day's end," he said, simply, quietly.
He saw Viggo's eyes sparkle, their blue light going to twilight then midnight in moments--a midnight sky twinkling with thousands and thousands of stars, like their first night at Viggo's place. Sean leaned down, pressing his mouth to Viggo's, finding it open under his, and he was home again, kissing Viggo like there was no tomorrow--and there wasn't--moving over Viggo, right into Viggo's arms, a hand sliding down to grasp their cocks together, then Viggo's own hand coming to cover his. Slow, long gliding motions, and it was as the previous day in the clearing under the blue autumn sky: so lush and unhurried as they had all the time in the world--which they couldn't have--moving against each other, rubbing, stroking, caressing, a tangle of arms and legs and mouths and tongues and yeah, just like that, perfectly like that, coming together with a small explosion so quiet and so powerful that it shook the very foundations of the universe--their universe--their Perfect Day came to its perfect end.
*****
Sean knew Viggo was in the kitchen making breakfast--as it had become their routine--and not listening, though he really would have loved to have him near when he finally got hold of Melanie on the phone. Talking to his ex-wife had never been easy, yet today she sounded supportive, as if... as if she still cared. She told him the girls were still at school, but they had left a message for him--it was a short, unsettling conversation, hearing how much he was loved, how much his little girls had been worried for him; how much they missed him and wanted to see their dad and, as Melanie quoted, with a smile in her voice, "Kick everybody who said bad things" about him.
Sean couldn't begin to fathom how he could be so lucky. So loved. He could only promise he would be back to see them as soon as he could. For he loved them so damn much, he felt ashamed he told them that so seldom.
Had he actually ever told them? He knew he was really lousy at that kind of thing, the last few days had done a lot to make him aware of it. He could just hope they knew, somehow.
Time must have been gotten away from him, because next thing he knew Viggo was there, gently prying the receiver from his hand and putting it back into place, then drawing him briefly close, touching Sean's forehead with his own. All too briefly, for in seconds he was gone again, and of course, Sean understood. Their day lay behind them. They couldn't have more than that, now.
Could they?
After breakfast and a shower, he went into his room to pack his bag, a matter of minutes, really; he was wearing some of Viggo's clothes, as a matter of fact, because when Viggo had hurriedly packed for him, he hadn't taken more than a spare change of shirts. The sweater Sean was wearing now was at least a size too big for him, but he didn't mind--corny as it sounded, it smelled like Viggo, and he was glad to have at least something of him for a little while more.
God, he sure hadn't joked when he'd told Viggo he was a sap.
After a last look around to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything, he sat down on his bed, still unmade from two nights before. What, now? Go back to L.A. Let his lawyer take care of the hearing and everything. Go back to England, to see his girls, as soon as possible. Other matters that needed taking care of, in London. His old mates. His parents--bugger, that would be bad enough. Call Elijah and the others in the Fellowship, maybe.
Think about a press conference.
Think about...
No. Don't think about Viggo. What Viggo had said. He couldn't--couldn't do that, and stay calm. Not right now.
A light knock on the open door made him look up. Viggo was leaning against the door jamb, hands in his pockets. "I'm ready whenever you are," he announced.
Sean looked on, wanting to say something, finding nothing. Hadn't it been him, the one insisting romance was alive and well? Yes, but then, it had been more for the fun of arguing with Viggo than anything else. He'd always secretly thought Viggo was right--and the current situation was just proving it once and for all.
He got to his feet, sportbag in one hand, sunglasses in the other. "I'm ready."
Viggo nodded, and turned away, preceding him out.
*****
The trip to Boise was uneventful. Viggo let Sean choose the music, and for some reason Sean decided he was in the mood for country.
This got him an arched eyebrow and amused look from Viggo, to which he responded with kind of a scowl... and when Viggo grinned, Sean sprawled down comfortably in the passenger seat and thought that they could have had just a few days, but maybe, just maybe, that wouldn't be the end of it. If he only could be braver, perhaps. He was confused. He had to think--he would have time to do that, now.
When Viggo started to humming softly along, Sean closed his eyes. The silence between them wasn't awkward nor tense, it was instead that kind of silence that is comfortable and easy between two people who know each other so well they have no need to fill the time with speech, for everything has already been said; or anyway, everything that mattered, so time could trickle away in peaceful quiet, leaving behind just a kind of easy contentedness that spoke of loving, and caring, and dreams laid, for the moment, to rest.
Sean thought about never spoken words and lonely nights with strangers and what it all was worth.
*****
"So," Sean said when they announced his flight.
"So." Viggo stood in front of him, sunglasses on, eyes invisible behind that. Giving away nothing. "You gonna be all right... you know, with the plane and... all," Viggo trailed off, not really needing to finish the sentence.
"Yeah." Sean sighed, took a look around--then decided. What the hell. He took off his shades, looking at Viggo in full light, Viggo so bright and vibrant in an old battered leather jacket and washed-out jeans, a little frayed around the cuffs. The artificial lights glinted off Viggo's hair, golden streams sparkling when he moved, tilting his head to one side in that peculiar, waiting way that he had. Sean felt himself smile. "I'll be fine."
Viggo didn't seem utterly convinced, but he let it pass, and nodded. Maybe he too was remembering the wreck Sean had been just a couple of days before, Sean reflected. Maybe Viggo too could see that Sean was now, well, not all right, but decidedly on his way to get there. He smiled. Hell--he had spent all of the previous day *laughing*.
Among other things.
He suddenly noticed the dark bruising that was forming on Viggo's lower lip--and remembered that he had put it there--and remembered how, and when. He felt a not unpleasant heat rise to his cheeks, more than a little aware of the little aches he himself was feeling, the secret reminder that he had wanted so bad from Viggo. He would feel that for a while, he just knew it; and it was a comforting thought, in its own way. It was why he'd asked for it in the first place. Would Viggo nurse his bruised lip as well? He had the strange certainty that he would. All of a sudden, he wished Viggo would take his sunglasses off.
"You are stayin' up here?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. But he wanted something... what exactly, he didn't know. He just knew that he didn't want to leave--not like that.
Viggo nodded. "For a few days."
Sean nodded too. It wasn't easy. "I'll call you," he said.
He wasn't certain, but thought Viggo could've rolled his eyes. "What am I, a bad date?"
Sean glared at him for a moment, before taking in the hunched shoulders, the nervous stance, the way Viggo kept shifting his weight from one foot to another. Viggo's whole posture radiated uncertainty, defensiveness, and it struck Sean all over again.
Was it really the end, this? Like this?
"Viggo," he said, firmly.
And at last, Viggo stilled. He took one hand to his sunglasses, lowering them, folding them into his hand, tucking them away. He smiled faintly, then lifted his eyes, studying Sean for a long time, seeing, of course, how nervous Sean himself was.
Viggo chuckled, shaking his head. He pursed his lips slightly, a thoughtful look in his blue eyes, a smile tentatively offered. "I don't want romance," he stated, his eyes looking right through Sean. And right there, in the middle of the crowded airport, he added, simply like that, "You are enough."
Warmth and something that felt suspiciously--dangerously--like hope flooded Sean at that, and as he looked at Viggo's smile growing steadier, he found he had one himself. He took a deep breath, took a step closer. "Tell me again."
Light danced in Viggo's eyes, blue and bright. When he spoke, his voice was as wind in the leaves, low but clear. He too stepped closer. "Din satans pikansjos," he whispered, and they were in each other's arms, holding tightly.
"I'm calling you," Sean whispered, with finality.
"You do that," Viggo whispered back, and dropped a swift secret kiss just behind Sean's ear.
*****
Sean was on-board at last, buckled up in his seat, half his mind dreading, as usual, the moment the plane would take off, the other half wandering farther than that. He found himself unable to tear his mind's eye away from Viggo, how he'd looked in the middle of the airport, just a guy saying his goodbyes to a friend. How quickly he had put his shades back on, watching as Sean disappeared from his sight. Sean had watched him till he could.
Time. They needed time, Sean thought. Time apart--time to think, time to...
To miss each other all over again.
Sean couldn't help but wonder what would happen now that the real world--their real lives, careers, families--has finally come back between them. They had had a brief precious time, separated from all that, secure in their little world of two.
That time had been Viggo's gift to him--to them. Yet what Viggo had given to the two of them had been even more than that: he had given them an opening. A chance.
For Sean to take.
His brave Viggo. Sean knew he had let him lead the way for too long, had let him take the risks for them both. Now it was up to him, Sean reckoned--the both of them, they were in Sean's hands. Could he? Take that risk. Take that chance.
Was it worth it? Were *they* worth it? Sean closed his eyes, resting his head back against his seat. He couldn't stop seeing Viggo, a lonely figure standing in the crowded airport, watching him walk away.
He never even noticed the plane taking off.
*****
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: 12252
Published: 31 Jul 2009 Updated: 31 Jul 2009