*****
Their first kiss is a strange thing.
They're waiting with the hobbits' stand-ins for their call on set one afternoon, when Sean thinks he hears Viggo call his name. He turns--a little surprised they're standing so close--and is about to speak, when all of a sudden he can't, for Viggo is *very* close, and in fact Viggo's lips are on his own.
So brief as the whole thing is, Sean hasn't time to think before it's all over. He's only vaguely aware that he has opened his lips under Viggo's, but whether that happened before, because of his intention to speak, or after, when he already couldn't, he can't tell.
Was that a kiss, anyway?
They stand there for a moment, Viggo's eyes oddly focused, Sean blinking.
"What'd ya do that for?" Sean says, and he knows he sounds kind of silly.
He also sounds a bit out of breath.
"I don't know," Viggo says, his voice puzzled a little, a little breathless too--but focused, like his eyes.
Just then the call comes for Aragorn, and Viggo's off, leaving Sean with the startled, staring stand-ins, wondering if he's startled himself. He's not sure.
He's sure he's staring, at any rate.
***
Sean joins back with Viggo at the car-park some hours later.
"Are you all right?" Sean asks, for it has occurred to him during the long afternoon that there could be a problem there.
"Me?" Viggo looks thoughtful. "Not sure," he eventually decides.
Sean knits his brows together: the idea of Viggo not being all right is disturbing to him on some level, even more so because he can't put his finger on just when that happened, why should he actually care.
"Oh," he says, and can't think of anything else to add, so he makes for his own car. He's walked maybe two steps when he realizes he's going in the wrong direction--when he finds himself so close to Viggo, he can make out the grey and coppery strands in the overall blond hair, the darker shade of Viggo's stubble.
And then he leans in.
He leans in and he kisses Viggo, a real kiss this time, chaste enough in its beginning, just feeling the brittleness of stubble under his lips--like a shocking trail of fire connecting his lips to his lower belly--at the corner of Viggo's still mouth. Then Viggo's mouth's not so still anymore, and Sean's is over it, the tip of his tongue flicking out to lick the soft, smooth lips amid the brittle hair--and then he's licking enamel smoothness--and then...
"Oh," he says again, or thinks he says, with his next breath. Which comes quite some time later, and it's quite breathless.
He doesn't really know which of them broke the kiss, but now they're there, apart, looking, breathing, not touching, and suddenly Sean remembers they're in the car-park and they just.
Kissed.
So "Oh," he says yet again.
"Right," Viggo says, still looking. Then he's not looking. "I'm expecting a call from Henry back home," he says.
Sean nods, can't say anything, really. He watches Viggo walk away, watches him get in his car, wait for a second or two, then drive away.
He's all right, Sean thinks.
This is strange, he thinks after that.
Then he realizes he's leaning against someone's car, his legs oddly shaky.
He thinks the loud rushing noise in his head actually has to be his heart; so maybe it's him that's not all right: maybe he's having a coronary and that would explain all that happened today.
Except, no.
Strange, that.
***
The day after is bright and clear, but Sean's not really a morning person; so when Orlando bounces over, sitting down across from him at the table where Sean's having his breakfast in the half-deserted mess tent, the best he can do is give him a somewhat dull look.
"I know all about it," Orlando brightly announces. And when Sean just stares blankly back, he does a complicated 'wink wink nudge nudge' kind of gesture.
Sean blinks.
Orlando's fingers poking Sean's ribcage are quite pointed--and annoying as hell.
"The lords of Gondor," Orlando expands, smug.
Sean's poker face comes in handy from time to time. "Piss off," he says.
"Yeah," Orlando says. And grins.
"Now," Sean adds, positive that he sounds threatening enough.
"Now," Orlando repeats, totally oblivious and evidently bent on making Sean's morning a living hell. Then he looks up. "Now," he says again, this time a bit louder and in a different voice. He's up and gone, back to his own table with Billy and Dom and some elf bloke Sean doesn't know, in no time.
Sean doesn't need to turn and look. In a couple of seconds Viggo is sitting down in Orlando's place.
"Did you know we're an item?" Sean asks, trying for cool and flippant and just about managing surly.
Viggo nods, then asks, "Is that espresso?" and takes Sean's mug from his hand without waiting for an answer.
Sean taps his fingers on the cheap plastic tabletop, waits patiently for Viggo to finish drinking his espresso.
Before that happens, though, his assistant comes to call him on set. Sean sighs, waves her away with a nod and a little smile, and stands up, reaching out to pick up Boromir's fur-lined cloak from a nearby table, fighting a little with the clasp when he puts it on. Viggo watches him, still sipping from Sean's mug.
Cloak finally dealt with, Sean just hovers there for a second more. He looks down at Viggo.
"What?" Viggo says.
Sean shrugs, uncertain.
Viggo puts down the mug, smiles. His eyes light up. "Don't I get a kiss?" he asks.
Sean thinks about scowling for maybe all of two seconds. Viggo's still smiling--he's smiling with all of his face, really--looking up at Sean, eyes very blue in the clear, bright morning light.
Sean leans down, keeping back his cloak with an awkward arm, kisses Viggo on his forehead.
When he's about to straighten up he finds Viggo's hand making a fist in the folds of Boromir's tunic, and he obediently lets himself be pulled down again, to be properly kissed, lips brushing, barely parting, breaths mingling.
"I'll see you later," Viggo says then, bright and quiet all at once.
"Later," Sean says, and leaves him to finish up his breakfast.
Only after he's outside the tent does he notice he's smiling, too.
The morning is cool and crisp, and Sean breathes in its bright yellow light.
***
Later, Sean's scenes turn out longer than expected, and he doesn't see Viggo all day--not until he's gone and changed back to his own clothes, and heading home.
Viggo is in the car-park, leaning casually against Sean's car and chatting with Liv, whose Cherokee is parked two cars away.
"Here he is," Sean hears Liv say when she spots him, and Viggo turns his head and looks at him.
"Right, I'll leave you boys go home now," Liv says, then asks, "Will I see you at the pub, tonight?"
Viggo shrugs, smiles again; Liv doesn't seem to find this odd, and with a smile of her own she walks away.
Sean unlocks his car, and Viggo gets in. They're out of the car-park and onto the road before Sean thinks to ask.
"I was thinking you could give me a lift home," Viggo says, and tucks his hair behind his ear with a quick gesture of his hand. "Or I could come home with you."
The road is suddenly a bit difficult to manage; but then it's all right.
"Turn here," Viggo says, and Sean does. He recognizes the neighbourhood where Viggo's rented house is.
When they arrive in front of Viggo's place, Viggo says, "Right." Then, after a moment, he leans over and turn the ignition keys, killing the engine.
Then he reaches out and reclines back Sean's seat.
"Let's try something," Viggo says, and with some fumbling and awkward maneuvering he climbs on Sean's lap, straddling him. He shifts around a little, trying to get comfortable and not bang his head against the car's roof. Not too much.
"Last time I did this," Viggo mutters, "I was a lot nimbler."
Sean just breathes in, breathes out. Viggo smells quite good, even though they both need a shower after the long day.
Quietly he says, "Last time I did this," breathes in, out, "I was with a girl."
Viggo shifts again. "Really." He doesn't seem particularly impressed by Sean's words--indeed he hardly even seems to be paying attention.
After a couple more of Viggo's squirmings around, Sean isn't, either.
Finally Viggo looks down into Sean's eyes, arms resting on either side of Sean's head. "Ready?"
Sean can only look up into dark blue eyes. He keeps breathing.
"Oh," he breathes a few minutes later. Viggo's smile feels good against the hot, sweaty skin of his neck.
"Do that again," Sean says, or tries to.
Good thing Viggo's actually so close that he can hear him fine. "'kay." Viggo blows the lone syllable right under Sean's ear, and obediently grinds his hips again. Just a little.
Sean has his hands on Viggo's hips by now; when Viggo next moves, they fall down lower, resting on Viggo's ass.
"Nice," Sean says, wonderingly. A low, contented humming is his only answer, and he squeezes a little, nibbling Viggo's lower lip--and suddenly everything is nicer still.
Some time later things are feeling rather good, but Viggo's not so light a weight, and he looks uncomfortable, all hunched over. Sean abstractly worries about cramps in his legs, and maybe a bruise where the gear shift is sticking into Viggo's thigh.
Viggo gets his own tongue back, breathes a little, leans his head against Sean's on the headrest. "Well."
Sean notices again the cars speeding by outside, the streetlamps already lit. They're actually in Viggo's driveway, but hardly sheltered. He can hear a TV blabbering in one of the neighbouring houses.
"I," Sean says, and stops.
Viggo climbs back on his seat, wincing a little, bumping into Sean a few times, in a not so pleasant way now. He adjusts himself in his slacks, and even in the fading light Sean can see the bulge, a little wetness seeping through. He swallows, looks away, tries not to touch himself, tries to breathe again.
Viggo clears his throat, passes his hands through his hair a few times, tugs his shirt back down. He's all sweaty and hot. Sean is not looking, though.
Breathes in, out.
Viggo opens the door. "I'll be needing a lift tomorrow," he says before getting out. Sean recalls vaguely passing by Viggo's Jeep sitting in the car-park on their way out.
He nods.
Viggo gets out.
***
Next day, though, Viggo calls him to say he got his dates confused, so he has to leave early, and Sean can go back to sleep.
Sean thinks about something to say, anything. In the end he just says, "See you later."
"Yeah," Viggo says. Sean fancies he can hear Viggo breathing, if he stands still enough, if he holds his own breath in. It's a moment made of silence, filled with a kind of quiet wonder. Sean listens to that silence, to Viggo simply breathing, and thinks of nothing.
"Viggo," he says at last, almost unwillingly, his breath rushing out of him to the man at the other end of the line.
"Yeah," Viggo says again, a soft wisp of a word, like a sigh but not quite. And then, at last, he hangs up.
***
When Sean gets to the set, just before noon, he has barely the time to say hello and lift two fingers at Orlando's smirk when one of Peter's assistants comes by saying Peter would like to discuss something with him. Puzzled, he goes in search of their director.
Peter welcomes him with a bright smile and a clap on a shoulder, makes a place for him in the chaos that's his office-trailer. A creepy orc head is shoved aside on the overflowing desk so Peter can sit and look Sean, settled in the only chair, right in the eye.
Sean is suddenly very aware of the stubble rash visible above his neckline, and knows Viggo has to have one of his own.
"I have already talked about this with Viggo," Peter begins.
He looks kind of content actually, saying a big long-term project like this is bound to bring people together, in whatever way, so he was expecting for something like this to happen, sooner or later. Could they just maybe tone the P.D.A. down a little? Not that he has anything against people kissing or such, but keeping a little cool at least while reporters are scheduled to be on set would just be the thing. The big bosses wouldn't be so happy with Lord of the Rings grading from 'the fantasy one' to 'the gay one', now would they? The buggers already are on his case about Ian.
So, Peter concludes, giving Sean another brilliant smile, just don't fuck up my movie and have a happy life together. Or whatever.
Sean feels a little overwhelmed. Peter has been talking for a while, like a real-life hobbit making his birthday Speech--kind on the serious side, though. Sean listens and nods in all the right places, and can't think of anything to say except, of course Peter has nothing to worry about from him, or from Viggo.
"Yes, that's just what Viggo said, too. I guess you're both used to affairs on set," Peter nods. "God knows, I've seen my share of them. Actors," he says, and chuckles and shakes Sean's hand.
The Speech is over, and Sean decides it reminds him less of a birthday speech than of a blessing of sorts.
He also decides that the orc head, peeking from behind Peter's hip, is looking right at him.
He feels a little creeped out.
***
"So he caught you too, huh?" Viggo is waiting for Sean outside the makeup trailer, a lazy Aragorn in leather and dark velvets leaning against the trunk of a young tree. He falls into step with Sean, a Boromir without his cloak to shoot the 'shards of Narsil' scene.
They walk towards the Rivendell set for a couple of minutes, then Sean stops.
"What do you think is going on?" he asks, sincerely puzzled.
Viggo thinks about it for a while. "Looks like," he carefully says in the end, "we're an item."
"Oh." And then, "How the hell did *that* happen?"
"Beats me." Then Viggo looks right into Sean's eyes. Sean looks back.
"It feels..." Viggo says.
"... kind of nice," says Sean, surprising himself. Just a little.
Viggo gives him a happy smile. "Yeah."
Viggo's eyes are very blue again, they light up his whole face. Sean knows there's gold and copper and silver in Viggo's hair under his Aragorn wig, and he knows exactly how it looks, too--how it feels to run his fingers through it, to have it trail against his skin. He knows exactly the scent of it.
With a jolt he realizes what he's thinking--and it's so familiar, so easy a thought, that for a moment it takes his breath away.
*Fuck me, but he's fucking beautiful.*
And the feeling that comes with the thought, coiled tight and warm in his gut, slowly spreading outward, is very, very familiar as well.
"Yeah," Sean says too, giving Viggo a slow, shy smile of his own. Because he feels suddenly shy; and then, he feels fucking crazy.
He reaches out and touches Viggo's glowing cheek with the back of his fingers, then he trails them down on Viggo's neck, shoulder, arm, in a slow, brushing, intimate caress, until he links them with Viggo's own fingers. His heart is pounding.
Viggo's eyes are not so blue anymore; they're very dark now, very deep. He's breathing a little fast--but that's good, because Sean is, too.
"Tonight," Viggo says, really close to Sean, voice low and husky, "I'll be going home with my boyfriend."
A slow, mounting happiness is gathering inside Sean, setting his blood on fire. It's been happening for a while now, and he wonders about it, about when this madness ceased to be part of him to become the whole of him, no longer to be ignored.
He wonders, and knows that he doesn't really care.
"Yes," he says at last, Viggo's warm breath caressing his lips; and a simple syllable shouldn't make him feel like that, but it does.
Like he's young again. Carefree. Happy.
Like he's in love.
"Are there," he says under his breath, looking right into the black-blue eyes, "reporters on set today?"
Viggo just takes a breath, shakes his head no. Sean tugs a little on their joined hands, and they're kissing, slow and deep, breathing each other in.
*****
Summary: Just when did Viggo and Sean become an item?
Rated: R
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 2803 Read: 1154
Published: 01 Aug 2009 Updated: 01 Aug 2009