"Bloody hell!" Sean couldn't help closing his eyes as he walked around Viggo's studio. "They're all so fucking *dark*! There's no color in any of them!"
Viggo's shadow suddenly filled the doorway. His voice was a low growl. "Get out of my studio, Sean."
Sean turned on his heel and strode toward Viggo, his face filled with anger and his eyes black. "What the hell is this, Vig? What have you done?"
Viggo's face turned crimson and his eyes flashed. Meeting Sean's gaze head on, he pushed Sean away from him. "Get. The. Hell. Out. You are no longer welcome here."
Sean's face fell. He felt his heart clinch at Viggo's words. /No longer welcome? Yeah, he bloody well deserved that. That and more. Much more. / He considered leaving. He tried to tell himself to just walk out the door and never look back, that it was for the best. He tore his eyes from Viggo's, intent on staring outside, focusing on the sunlight, on the door, on anything except the glimmer in his ex-lover's eyes.
And then his eyes found another painting. It was partially hidden behind the door, but not quite. One edge peeked out, and Sean could just make out blue hues coloring light hair. So many blues a33; light, dark, icy, warm. The thin strip of darkness tugged something deep in his mind, and he pushed past Viggo to further investigate.
Viggo saw Sean's intent and grabbed onto his shirt, turning him in mid-step. "No!" He tried to push Sean out the door, but Sean was bigger, even a little stronger, and determined to see the entire piece that lay just out of sight. He shrugged Viggo's hand off and pushed the door away.
He sucked in a deep breath, feeling dizzy. He put a hand out to the wall to keep from falling.
He was staring at himself. Well, himself dressed as Boromir. It was the Lorien scene a33;where Boromir and Aragorn talk of Gondor, and of being called home. It was awash in cool colors that spoke of peace and serenity, and fit the feel of the home of the Elves to perfection. Even his face was tinged in blue lights. It should have made him look cold, hard, cruel. But it didn't.
He saw Boromir for the first time. Not Sean. Boromir. Not the shy, soft-spoken, Sean who had left the one person he loved more than life it's self a33; left that one person here alone. Alone to paint his dark thoughts and darker dreams.
No. This was Boromir. Beautiful. Even he had to admit that. No ego was involved. Boromir was just...beautiful. Vulnerable. Sad. Hopeful. Afraid.
It was perfect. He didn't remember Viggo running around with his camera that day, but he must have snuck around and hid it somewhere. No. He moved in closer. This was no photograph. He saw minute brush strokes and let out the breath he didn't remember holding.
"You *painted* this, Vig? Christ."
His hand gently caressed the painting. His finger pulled the canvas toward him, and he discovered several more behind it, leaning against the wall, trying to hide from prying eyes.
Each canvas was filled with Sean. Sean as Boromir a33; in blues and browns and grays and blacks. Sean as Richard Sharpea33; in black and browns and midnight blues. And Sean as Sean. Just Sean. His hair wild, just getting out of bed, eyes trying to focus on the something just out of sight. Another of him in the kitchen, staring fixedly at a book. A close up of just his smile and his tattoo. One of just his green eyes. But always, there were no yellows or reds or sunlight. Just....darkness. Darkness, and shadows, and Sean.
"What is this, Vig?" His voice was soft.
"Nothing, Sean. Get out." Viggo sounded tired, defeated. "Just please go."
Sean closed his eyes, fighting back the tears. "Vig...."
When he turned around, he found he was alone in the room. "Oh, Vig. I'm so sorry," he whispered. "So damn sorry." He turned back to the paintings, sliding to the floor to examine each one more closely. Hours later, he felt his muscles protesting, but he couldn't bring himself to move. So he simply stayed where he was and finally let the tears flow freely from his green eyes.
Viggo knew he should have felt mortified knowing Sean had seen the canvases. But some small part of him had wanted Sean to see them, wanted him to see the hell he'd lived through these past ten months.
He sat on the bed, holding the pillow that used to be Sean's close to him. Hoping Sean would come in the room, praying for Sean's arms to be wrapped around him, holding him, making him feel safe, making him feel loved.
But the door stayed shut.
And when he went back to his studio hours later, Sean was nowhere to be found.
***
The shoot was NOT going well. Sean kept missing his cue, and no matter how many times he read the script, he kept forgetting the last lines. "I have never felt this way a33; never this alone, this broken. I need you. Any part of you will do, if I can't have it all. Just give me *something*."
Hell, he should be able to remember those words. They were exactly what he was feeling right now. But he couldn't force the words out to the beautiful blonde that lay willingly enough in his arms, looking up at him expectantly, expecting God only knows what from him.
No, if he ever said those words, it would only be to one person. Only to his Viggo. And Sean knew that he could never allow himself that luxury.
"CUT!" The increasingly frustrated director threw his script up in the air. "Let's call it a day, and finish this later." He stomped off, shooting one last glare at Sean.
Sean's face flushed, and he started to rise from the bed. The blonde placed a restraining hand on his arm, looking up at him with doe eyes and a wicked grin. "Stay in bed?" she purred, ignoring the cameras and crew.
Sean put on his 'acting' face. "Can't, love, sorry. Gotta get back to the game." He kissed her lightly on the cheek, and crawled out of bed.
He made a beeline for his trailer, locked the door behind him, and threw his clothes in a heap on the floor. He stepped into the shower and let the hot water soothe his tired muscles. His hand found his cock and he slowly stroked himself, trying not to see Viggo in his mind, but knowing that, as usual, he could never be able to finish without picturing those blue eyes and that crooked smile. He moaned Viggo's name over and over as he came on the shower wall.
He dried off and climbed into bed, holding the pillow that used to be Viggo's close to him as he tried to fall asleep.
***
Ten months. Ten months to the day since Sean had left him. Ten long months since Sean had pulled away from him, packed his bags, and just fucking left. Ten months since Sean had said, "I can't do this, I'm sorry, but I can't do this," over and over, then walked out the door.
Viggo sat on the stool in front of the blank canvas and closed his eyes. His mind raced through hundreds, thousands of Sean-moments. Sean smiling, laughing, pouting, impassioned, angry, drunk, wet. Each moment was breath taking, magical, lovely.
He settled on one and began painting.
***
Ten months, Sean thought. Ten months since The Dream. The dream of all his ex-wives gathering together, all crying, screaming curses at him, taunting him, telling him that they couldn't wait to see Viggo beg and plead for him to stay, just like they had done. They couldn't wait to see him crush Viggo as he'd crushed each and every one of them.
In his dream, his ex-wives were the victims. In his dream, they hadn't run around, hadn't hurt him, hadn't taken a part of him away. In his dream, it was always him a33; always him that hurt the ones he thought he'd loved. He didn't see the anger and the malice that had settled in their eyes during their marriage. He saw only poor, lonely, vacant, tear-filled glances, all looking sadly at him, all saying good-bye. All victims. Victims of Sean.
And suddenly, the women disappeared, and his beloved Viggo was standing there. Viggo, with tears in his beautiful blue eyes, his face pale and drawn. His Viggo, begging him to love him, to stay, to try one more time.
And in his dream, his heart broke, but his words were cold. "It was just a fuck, Vig. Sorry if you thought it was more." Blue eyes clouded over and Vig fell to his knees, turning away from Sean. The women joined Viggo, and they all cried, all called him a bastard and a cheat, all said that they hated him, hated him for what he'd done to them, for what'd turned them into. Viggo's voice was the loudest.
But it was Viggo's eyes that haunted him the most. Viggo's eyes were broken; the spark of laughter that always lay in the corner was gone. Gone forever.
When he woke, his whole body was covered in sweat, and his breathing was harsh. His heart pounded in his chest, and his mouth was dry.
Sean's movement startled Viggo, who looked up at him from his position on Sean's shoulder, eyes wide, a soothing hand instinctively stroking Sean's face in an effort to calm him.
And Sean looked into those eyes. He knew that it would kill him to see the pain and hopelessness and sorrow settle into the deep blue irises and cloud them forever.
No. He'd hurt too many people. Ex-wives, ex-girlfriends. Even his children. His beautiful girls. He knew they loved him dearly, but he also knew they'd been through the hell of very public divorces.
Why do we always hurt the ones we love the most?
So Sean had panicked. No explanations would convince Viggo to understand what Sean had just seen in his dream. Viggo would just kiss him, tell him that things would be all right, that they'd work something out.
And Sean knew Viggo would convince him to stay. The longer he stayed, the more in love with Viggo he'd be, and damn it, he could deal with that. Could deal with that a hundred times over, if it meant spending one more night in Viggo's arms.
But he couldn't let Viggo fall in love with him. He'd just leave, and let Viggo get out now, while the getting was good. He'd go home, lick his wounds, and throw himself into his work. And Viggo wouldn't get hurt like everyone else in his life had.
So he did. He didn't realize that Viggo had fallen in love with him long before that night.
***
As Sean lay in bed, his thoughts kept focusing on the paintings. /Is that how he sees me? So clearly, capturing my very soul? /
If only he hadn't tried to see Viggo again last night. Ten long months, and Viggo had finally stopped calling, stopped sending letters, stopped pounding on his door.
But he'd gotten a role in a movie that was being filmed in Los Angeles. A good role, one that would require a lot of time and energy, one that would fill his days, and hopefully, exhaust him enough to let him fall asleep in the evenings.
And old friends had stopped by. First was Orli. Still the same a33; laughing, charming, hyperactive Orli. Hugging him close, kissing him on the cheek the way only Orli could get away with. And they'd had dinner and talked until late that night, catching up on each other, renewing their deep friendship.
Then Billy and Dom. Damn, they looked right for each other. Always touching, unashamedly loving each other, delighting in each other. Exactly how Sean had wanted to be with Viggo, but hadn't allowed himself to give in to. Sean had always kept a little of himself back, never speaking the words that were in his heart. But, then, neither did Viggo. "Two mates shagging", that's how Viggo had heard Sean describe it. And Viggo hadn't understood that Sean had been talking about Billy and Dom.
So they just fucked each other. No promises, no secret smiles. Just fucking. And, oh, it felt so good.
Old friendships rekindled made Sean even more homesick for Viggo. He wanted to see the blue eyes one more time, to hear the unrestrained laughter that flowed freely from Viggo's lips. One visit. Surely, after ten months, one visit wouldn't hurt. One guilty pleasure that he could hold on to for another year. Hell, he'd seen the magazines with Viggo and a gaggle of women. Obviously, Viggo had moved on. So, one visit. Just one.
***
When Sean had shown up on the front step of Viggo's LA studio, he half expected to see a scantily clad woman open the door. According to the rags, there was more than one when Viggo was in need.
But, Viggo had opened the door, and a smile had made his face beam before he realized that he'd shown too much. He was an actor, after all, dammit. So he masked his face, said a very civil "hello Sean" and went back to the living room.
They'd talked for a while, talked about nothing in particular. They'd avoided all mention of their relationship, and certainly never touched on their feelings.
Then Viggo had offered to make some tea and Sean had smiled, happy to know Viggo still stocked Sean's favorite, even though Viggo hated it himself.
While Viggo was in the kitchen, Sean had wandered into the studio. That's when all hell broke loose.
***
Damn. The pictures wouldn't stay out of his mind. He imagined Viggo's hands gently holding the brushes, lovingly applying each layer of paint. Lovingly. Yes, that was how Viggo did everything. With great love, with all his heart. How could Viggo have painted those after Sean had left? They were so perfect. As if he were sitting there, posing. If anyone else had tried it, the anger, the disappointment, the bitterness would have shown through. But not his Viggo.
Yes. *His* Viggo. That's still how he thought of him, even after all this time. God, how he loved him. Always had, always would. Would have said the words if he thought Viggo had felt the same, would have screamed them from the rooftops, if there was a chance in hell that Viggo would have said them back, would have taken this one chance. But Sean had heard Viggo talking about "two best friends who happen to have great sex." And Sean didn't realize Viggo had been talking about Dom and Billy. So Sean hadn't said a word, had kept his mouth shut when they'd fucked, had snuggled close to Vig only when Viggo was asleep. They'd often woken up in each other's arms, though, as if they'd each sought solace and warmth in the night. Light kisses and even lighter words were spoken, and they'd just fucked. Nothing more. Nothing more that they would discuss, anyway.
***
Viggo had lain awake all night. /Enough of this. It's now or never./ He could get hurt, but could that be any worse than the hell he'd lived though for the past few months?
He reached for a pen and paper, and began to write.
Sean a33;
Do you not know?
There are no colors, because you took them with you when you left. You took the sun, the stars, even the moonlight. And I'm left in darkness.
You didn't leave completely though. No, I've studied you too many times, knowing that one day you'd leave me. I didn't know when, or why, but I knew it would happen. Because you were too good to be true.
I can still close my eyes, and remember every single expression on your face. That's what I paint a33; what I see in my mind. It's not as good as the real thing, but it's all I have.
"Two mates shagging." That's what you said. I heard it myself. And that's when I started breaking, Sean. I tried. I tried so hard not to love you, because I didn't want to destroy our friendship. But, damn, it just *happened*. I lost all control, and you just seemed to take over everything. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't fucking *paint* without you being in my head.
And it was so good while it lasted, Sean. When we were together, I could close my eyes and pretend that you loved me. You never said the words, and that made it easier to believe you were just caught up in the moment, were just too blissful and content.
You once asked me why I would never look at you while we fucked. That's why. Because if I closed my eyes and imagined you saying that you loved me, it was all okay.
So, Sean. I hope this answers your questions about where the colors went.
Do you know that I have been waiting for you forever? I didn't know where to find you, but I knew you were out there, somewhere. Sometimes, I think I *felt* you near me, even before we met. I wonder if we ever passed on the sidewalk, or were ever in the same proverbial crowded room. I swear, Sean, it's like I didn't live before I met you, didn't paint, didn't write, didn't even SEE anything until there was you.
Now, I know that receiving a letter from a friend you used to sleep with wasn't on the top of your "to do" list today. But, here it is. I needed to let you know how I feel.
I'm sending the painting of Boromir in Lorien. One of my favorites, if I do say so myself. I won't need it anymore. It doesn't do justice to you. I can see you in my mind much more clearly, and I'll hold on to that.
I hope you will remember me with a smile when you look at it. I'm leaving Los Angeles, maybe even leaving the US.
So, I guess this is good-bye. I've lived without you for ten months now. It's just not working. Maybe if I go somewhere else it can be good again. Not great, not like it was with you a33; but 'acceptable'. Right now, that'll have to be enough.
I'm still not sure what I did to drive you away. Did I say "I love you" in my sleep? Did I get clingy? I know you didn't need anything like that from me, but I must have done something that night. And I'm so sorry. I hope one day you'll forgive me.
Good-bye Sean. You have been a great friend, and I'll miss that as much as I'll miss being with you. I'll never forget you, or your eyes, or your smile.
-Viggo
PS a33; I love you.
***
Sean heard a knock on his trailer door. He rose from his position on the couch and looked outside. No one could be seen. He looked down to find a large box that was surprisingly light when he lifted it and carried it inside.
He ripped the box open and his eyes filled with tears as he saw the painting. Shaking fingers reached for the envelope that was taped to the top of the canvas.
As he read the note, his knees gave way, and he fell back onto the couch.
PS a33; I love you
Bloody hell. He *loved* him?
But he couldn't do this. The image of Viggo's pain-filled blue eyes came back with a vengeance. No. He wouldn't put Vig through that. He was better than that. He deserved more, so much more.
Sean reread the letter.
"Two mates shagging." That's what you said. I heard it myself.
What the hell was he talking about? He'd never said that. Well, maybe he had, but he meant Dom and Billy.
But Viggo had been the one to say "two best friends who happen to have great sex." Fuck. Could he have meant someone else too?
His eyes strayed back the letter.
There are no colors, because you took them with you when you left. You took the sun, the stars, even the moonlight. And I'm left in darkness.
By trying to protect Viggo, hadn't he already hurt him? Sean had thought he was leaving Viggo before Viggo was hurt, but it looked like he'd waited too long. It looked like Viggo had been in love with him then, and even now, even after 10 months of being alone, Viggo still loved him.
The picture stared back at him. This was how Viggo saw him. Warm, kind eyes. A soft smile on his lips. Not the cold, cruel man in Sean's dream who had said, "It was just a fuck, Vig. Sorry if you thought it was more." No. THAT man didn't exist. In a moment of clarity, Sean realized that he was the person in this painting, not the person in his dream. And he would never hurt Viggo. Never.
He rose from the couch, praying it wasn't too late. Dropping the letter on the floor, he raced out of the trailer, frantically searching for the man who'd claimed his heart from the moment they'd met. Finally ready to tell him, to take one more chance on giving himself to someone. He prayed it wasn't too late.
Sean searched for hours. And Viggo was nowhere to be found. His house was empty. His family hadn't seen him in weeks. His studio was bare.
Sean had to leave. Had to find him. Just to make sure. The director agreed to give him a week off, hoping that he could come back and finish the movie in a better state of mind.
He packed his bags and went in search of Viggo.
Idaho was fruitless. As was Colorado, Mexico, the Bahamas. Everywhere he and Vig had visited together. Until nothing was left but New Zealand. So he booked a flight, and went to New Zealand.
***
Everything looked different. No Edoras, no Helm's Deep, no Gondor. Sean searched everywhere.
His mind kept drifting to the painting. Finally, it hit him. Lorien. The set of Lorien had been mostly a stage set up, but it was worth a try. He trudged to the site deep in the woods and there he was. Viggo sat quietly on a large boulder, the very boulder that Boromir and Aragorn had sat on in the Lorien scene. And Viggo was staring at the spot where Boromir had sat, a sad smile on his face. His sketchpad lay next to him, the pages untouched.
"Vig?" Sean whispered as he walked up beside the man.
Viggo's shoulders tensed and he sat up straighter, but he didn't turn around. "Sean." It wasn't a question, just a simple statement, and Viggo's voice broke.
"Oh, Vig." Sean sat down and put his hands on Viggo's shoulders, turning the other man to face him. Sean drug in a breath when he saw Viggo's face. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his skin was as pale as a ghost's. His hands shook and he bit his lip. Sean didn't realize that he looked just as bad.
Sean's hand slid from Viggo's shoulder, up his neck, and cupped Viggo's face. "I'm so sorry, baby," he said softly, staring into Viggo's eyes.
Blue eyes filling with tears. Just like in his dream.
Green eyes lowered, and Sean felt a sob escape. "I'm so fucking sorry. It's too late, isn't it?"
Viggo pulled away. "Too late for what? To track me down and tell me it was nothing? To tell me you're sorry for letting me fall in love with you, but, hey, man, those are the breaks? Shit, Sean. I never asked anything of you. NEVER. And you just left." He stood up and walked away, his back stiffening, desperately trying to gain control of himself.
"God, Vig. I just didn't know. I didn't know you loved me. If I had known..."
"Then what, Sean? You would have left sooner? You would have laughed a little harder at your 'best friend'? Well, I'll tell you what Sean. I have enough friends. I don't need you anymore."
Tears fell from Sean's eyes in rivulets now, all pretenses at holding them back abandoned. "I deserved that, Vig. I'm so sorry."
"Sorry for what, you bastard? Just what exactly are you sorry for?"
"For hurting you. That's exactly what I was trying to avoid by leaving. I'm sorry for everything. Sorry for making you think I only thought of us as 'two mates shagging.' Vig, I was talking about Dom and Billy then. We never...."
"We never what, Sean?" Viggo had frozen, his back still to Sean.
"We never....shagged. Fucked. Screwed. We made love." Sean buried his face in his hands. "And now, I've fucked this up too. Shit, Vig. I'm so sorry. I know you don't still love me, but can you at least forgive me?"
Before Sean could say anything else, or even find the strength to look up at Viggo, Viggo was there, kneeling in front of him, pulling his hands away from his face.
"We.....made.....love? Are you sure, Sean? I know I always made love, but did you?"
"Always, Vig. I was just too fucked up to say it. But I always felt it. Sometimes I wished you'd look in my eyes, and you'd know. But you always closed yours. You never looked at me, so I figured you were ashamed of what we were doing, ashamed of fucking your best friend."
"Never, Sean. I just didn't want you to see how much I loved you. And I didn't want to see the look in your eyes that said you'd never feel the same way. I closed my eyes to imagine you saying you loved me." Viggo rested his forehead against Sean's.
"I have never felt this way a33; never this alone, this broken. I need you. Any part of you will do, if I can't have it all. Just give me *something*." Sean spoke softly, remembering every word of the lines he'd blocked out before. "Oh, God, Viggo, just give me *something*. Anything."
"Sean, you already have all of me. Don't you know that?" Soft lips descended onto Sean's and Sean's arms wrapped tenderly around Viggo. The kiss became deeper, and Sean opened his lips and welcomed the familiar taste that was uniquely Viggo. God, how he'd missed this. Viggo, just giving himself over to the moment in a way that Sean had never been able to do. Giving one hundred and ten percent.
Viggo's hands slipped down Sean's arms and over his ribs. Slowly pulling him forward, Viggo soon had Sean held as close to him as their clothes would allow.
Sean pulled away and looked at Viggo. "I want you, Vig. I never want to let go of you ever again. Make love to me."
"Say it Sean. I need to hear the words first. I need to know you can look at me and say them, and mean them."
Sean smiled and looked directly into Viggo's eyes. "I love you, Viggo. I always have. Since the moment I first saw you."
Viggo smiled.
Sean continued. "I fought it, but when we shot Boromir's death scene....that's when I first saw the tears in your eyes. Christ, Viggo, that hurt. And I knew I never wanted to see those tears again. Hell, Vig, I'd only known you a few days, and you'd already broken my heart."
Viggo pressed his cheek to Sean's, mingling their tears. His arms wrapped tightly around Sean, and Sean thought his heart would burst from the tenderness Viggo was showing him.
Viggo sucked gently in Sean's neck, marking him. Sean moaned. Suddenly he felt himself pushed back onto the boulder. Viggo was over him, straddling his thighs, cupping his hard erection. When had that happened? Fuck, Viggo worked magic on him. And fuck if he'd didn't feel Viggo's hard on too. Who knew tears and soft kisses would make two grown men so fucking horny?
Then, suddenly, they were naked. Sean had no memory of the clothes being removed from either of their bodies, but he instantly reveled in the closeness of skin on skin.
Viggo lay on top of Sean, grinding his cock against Sean's own. Neither man would last long at this rate. Sean pushed Viggo up and back for a moment, trying to catch his breath. "Wait," he breathed. "I want you *in* me."
Viggo moaned and pushed himself back until he knelt between Sean's legs. He bent to kiss Sean's cock, and Sean's body trembled. Charcoal-stained hands left dark smudges on Sean's body, and Sean angled his head to find Viggo's fingers, sucking them deep into his mouth, running his tongue over every surface, making each finger wet and slippery.
Viggo closed his eyes at the sensation, but Sean released his fingers and growled. "No. Keep your eyes open. Please, Vig, please keep your eyes open this once."
Blue eyes met green ones and Viggo placed his fingers over Sean's tight opening, causing Sean to moan and part his legs even more. One finger slowly slipped in. "God, you're tight, Sean. So fucking tight...."
"It's been so long, Vig. Too long. I can't wait, please, baby, please don't make me wait."
Viggo fought to keep his eyes locked with Sean's. His hand found his weeping cock and placed it at Sean's entrance. His eyes watered, but never left Sean's, and he slowly began to push in. He slowed when he met with resistance, but Sean wrapped his legs around Viggo's waist and impaled himself, hard. Viggo shuddered and Sean's whole body seemed to hum and tremble. But never did they break their gaze. Each man needed to see the other's heart, to see into the other's very soul.
Viggo pulled back until he was almost free of Sean's body, then thrust himself back in, hitting Sean's sweet spot. He smiled as Sean bit his lip and grabbed onto his hips, steadying him, trying to slow his thrusts so this wouldn't be over so quickly.
"Sean, let me come now. Come with me. Please."
"No, not yet. Just a few more minutes. I'm not ready to let go yet."
Viggo leaned in to lay his chest on Sean's, all the while keeping up the rocking motion with his hips. "There'll be no more letting go, love. Ever." He reached down and fisted Sean's weeping cock as he said this, and Sean could hold back no longer. His body arched up, arms around Viggo, and his cock pressed between them. He spilled his seed with a cry, letting his eyes roll back into his head, but never closing them.
This sent Viggo over the edge, and he came moments later, crying out Sean's name and clutching his body close. He desperately wanted to close his eyes at the sensation, but could not get Sean's words out of his head.
"It's ok, love. Close them, I've seen all I needed to," Sean whispered. Viggo finally allowed his eyes to shut and he collapsed against his lover.
The men lay back, content in each other's embrace, unmindful of the sweat and come that slicked their bodies. Viggo's head rested on Sean's chest and he sighed contentedly. "Say it again, Sean, just once more time. Please." He stared at the fine mattering of hair on Sean's chest.
Sean gently tipped Viggo's face up with one finger. "I'll say it every hour of every day, my love, if it will bring that smile to your face. I love you." Tenderly, he kissed Viggo's swollen lips and stroked his back. "I love you."
"I love you too, Sean. Always."
Sean kissed the top of Viggo's head, burying his nose in the soft hair. And he finally realized he was ready to let go. To let go of his dream, his fear, and, most importantly, of his heart.
Summary: Sean is no longer welcome in Viggo's studio.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 5393 Read: 996
Published: 29 Jul 2009 Updated: 29 Jul 2009