He put an arm behind his head as he inhaled steadily, cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth, eyes narrowed and watching Sean in the pool. He shifted his elbow, trying not to twist the wool hat he was wearing. The concrete was cool under his flannel-shirted back, but the steam rising from the heated pool was keeping him warm, along with the toque and quite frankly, watching Sean float around in the water a little more than half-naked.

It was pretty embarrassing, but he couldn't help but enjoy that slow burn through his abdomen, the heat most prominent near the zipper of his jeans. It was pure, guilty pleasure, and for once he was grateful those potent green eyes weren't focusing on him as intently as he was watching the man they belonged to.

Sean had tried to coax, tease, and shame him into going swimming with him, but Viggo knew better. Knew that there was no swim attire in existence that'd be able to hide his erection if he'd gotten into a pool with Sean looking so fucking good. So good and nearly naked and wet. No, no man with any sense of the beauty of other men had that kind of willpower.

Plus it was fucking cold. Too cold for swimming anyway, despite the heated water. Viggo didn't like being cold, least of all cold and wet. No, warmth was good, heat much better. Sweating in the sun on a sandy beach somewhere near the equator was his idea of a good time. Then he'd take his salty body and dive into an equally salty ocean that felt refreshing compared to the heat of the air.

But getting out from 90 degree water into 65 degree air, after having an hour-long hard-on from being in such close proximity to wet, near-naked Sean? Forget about it.

So here he lay, fully dressed, smoking away, watching Sean as he back-floated across the pool. God damn, Orlando had known just what he'd been doing when he bought those surfer trunks for Sean. The navy blue color looked good next to that pink-hued skin, and the light-weight material clung to those muscled thighs in all the right ways. But then the clincher was that damn stripe, that damn yellow stripe that ran across from hip to hip, the light color turning near transparent when exposed to water, revealing the tiny crisscross pattern of the mesh lining...that flimsy white open-weave fabric being the only thing holding Sean in...

God damn. Idiot. Thoughts like that and he'd have a nice wet spot on the front of his jeans soon. He waited till Sean made the turn and had his face in the opposite direction, before reaching down and adjusting himself, making sure he pulled the hem of his shirt down to cover his obvious interest in sexy swimmers in yellow-striped shorts.

He heard a rustling near the gate and lifted up onto his elbows, yanking the cigarette out of his mouth and shoving it down into the ashtray he'd put next to him. Orli had given him the keys and said they could hang out all weekend--no one was supposed to be by until Monday night.

He yelped as he suddenly felt a strong hand on his thigh. He looked down to see Sean's grinning face, his arms holding him at the edge of the pool, his long, wet fingers leaving a damp pattern on Viggo's jeans.

"You sound like a girl," Sean chuckled, eyes bright and devilish.

Viggo tried not to think about that dripping hand on his leg. "I thought I heard something. And don't fucking sneak up on me like that."

"It's the kids next door. And it's been my only chance to sneak up on you...you've been watching me like a hawk the whole time."

"Well, I couldn't help it," Viggo said dryly, trying to sound sarcastic. "I was admiring your Olympic ability."

Sean's grin widened, making him even sexier than before. "You haven't even seen all I can do."

Viggo allowed himself to arch one eyebrow, and watched cautiously as Sean's hands slipped away and he sank down below the surface of the water. Sean was still staring up at him, eyes wide open and taunting, the green mixing with the chlorinated hue of the water and shining like carefully polished turquoise.

Viggo found himself leaning over the edge of the pool, following that powerful gaze. He gasped as Sean's feet pushed off the bottom and he arched his whole body backwards, fluidly executing an underwater somersault.

Backwards. Viggo wondered if he'd done it that way on purpose. If he'd known how it had looked to Viggo, blonde hair rising to the surface first, then face, then neck, then muscled chest and slender waist. Then oh God, yes, that fucking yellow stripe, and the bulge underneath it, actually coming up for air momentarily. Certainly this man had no problem with water shrinkage, Viggo reflected, thinking that at this rate, his own cock wasn't going to go down for days.

Then the sinewy thighs and the knees and the pale white feet, kicking up and splashing just the slightest bit of wetness onto Viggo.

Through the gentle waves of clear water he could see Sean go back down, could see the muscles in his shoulders flexing, could see how the wide stripe on the front of the shorts curved up and ran narrower across the back, over the rise of his ass.

Sean skated close to the bottom of the pool and then arched back up again, giving Viggo another look at the angles of his body before lightly kicking his way to the opposite side of the pool.

As Sean floated away from him through the ripples he'd created, the sun slipped down between the trees. The rays that still penetrated the foliage came in on just the right angle, illuminating the surface of the pool with an ethereal glow. The greenery stood out in sharp contrast, looking stark and matte against the glittering metal fence and the blindingly white concrete patio.

Viggo was distracted from Sean's physique for a moment and he thought of his cameras. This was just too perfect, too exquisite to sit and watch happen without trying to record at least some fraction of its splendor.

Being careful not to let his bare feet slip on the water-slicked cement, he stood up and made his way over to the patio table where he'd unceremoniously dumped his belongings next to Sean's. He picked up both cameras, one with black and white film, the other with color, and slung both of their straps around his neck.

He started with the color first; at least he hoped it was the color. Much of his blood was still pooling in the area of his lap and his brain was struggling to remember which one he'd put which film in. Fuck it. Every time he screwed something up he seemed to discover some new angle or unusual technique for getting a shot, so he'd learned to just go with the flow. Color pics would be gorgeous and rich...if it was black and white it might end up looking stark and Twilight Zone-ish, which had its merits--plus he could always colorize it later, which could be interesting, too. Fuck it. Just hurry before the sun sinks lower.

He aimed first at the tall, pointed evergreen trees against the setting sun, the nearby lake and rocky beach just peeking through the greenery at the edge of the property. Then he knelt near the pool, trying to get the right angle, to get the luminescence of the water without letting the sun or the reflection flood the lens and wash out the image.

And then there was Sean. Sean rising halfway out of the glow and glowing himself. Water dripping from his sun-flushed shoulders. Golden highlights of his hair, darkened by wetness, still shining in the late afternoon light.

Viggo switched cameras then. "You should get out, now," he suggested, trying to keep his tone level and nonchalant. It was true, the breeze was picking up, ruffling the wisps of hair sticking out from under his toque, tickling his cheek and neck. But he wanted to see it, too, to capture it. Sean walking out of the pool, dark wet shorts against pale flesh.

Sean casually swam to the stairs near Viggo, and didn't protest as the camera flashed at him. In fact, he grinned, and slowed his movements, giving Viggo the chance to catch every ripple of motion.

Viggo took a step back, wanting all of Sean in frame...though it would have been nice to have a close-up of that brilliant white grin. He could mess with the developing later...zoom in and play around with it if he wanted to. The resolution was good enough to do it. For now he wanted all of Sean, all of wet, dripping, smiling, yellow-striped Sean.

"Anyone who didn't know you would think you a bit of a nutter, Vig," Sean said, making his way up over the last step and onto the cool white concrete. He shivered reflexively at the change in temperature.

"Anyone who does know me thinks that," Viggo chuckled, taking more steps back as Sean walked towards him. He didn't think he'd ever really watched Sean like this, moving into the frame, body curved forward slightly in an almost predatory, very masculine way.

"I'm not a fucking model," Sean complained, nevertheless holding his stomach in and rolling his shoulders back tightly, causing his pecs to jump and his biceps to flex.

Viggo snapped a pic and then almost dropped the camera. Holy shit.

Sean was grinning again. "How's this?" he asked, tossing his head back and shaking his hair out, causing a pinwheel of water droplets in the air all around him. When he brought his chin down again his hair was perfectly tousled, blonde shimmering more clearly now, darker damp strands clinging to the sides of his face. He ran a strong hand across his eyes, clearing away the water, and then his tongue slipped out and licked the wetness from his lips.

Viggo's hands were shaking, and he cursed them, cursed them because he feared they'd blur the pictures. And God, what beautiful pictures.

Sean continued moving forward, eyes focused intently now, lips curling in what Viggo felt was a very primal, sexual smile. He wondered if Sean knew what he was doing, and then realized that, of course, Sean was a fucking actor, he knew how and when to turn it on or off.

This was definitely a turn on moment. And while Viggo feared this was more like self-indulgent porn he was shooting, rather than his usual purely artistic expressions, he couldn't stop pressing that damn button.

The camera made a sudden grinding noise and Viggo turned it around to look at it. A shadow fell across the lens, and Viggo glanced up to find Sean very close to him.

"What's happened?" Sean asked, but he was looking at Viggo and not at the camera.

"Ah nothing," Viggo said, trying to sound nonchalant. "It just jams up sometimes." He shook it, smacking the bottom of it against his palm.

Sean laughed, his beautiful grin more brilliant than the shimmering water behind him. "I would think you'd be more gentle with delicate equipment like that."

Viggo opened his mouth to reply but the response died in his throat. Sean's hand had come up and his long fingers were lightly pushing at the stray hairs peeking out from under Viggo's toque. "You know," Sean said, still amused, "You're adorable in your little hat. There's really no one quite like you, Vig."

Adorable? Viggo nearly choked. Not because it didn't sound wonderful, those syllables coming off of Sean's tongue, but he couldn't remember the last time Sean had used a word like adorable. Maybe talking about his daughters. Or that waitress in Boise...he'd told her that her accent was adorable and she'd giggled like a school girl. But that was close to a year ago.

Sean was laughing again, obviously enjoying what must have been a look of utter confusion on Viggo's face. "Are my modeling days over, then?"

Viggo jolted back to his camera, then, happy to have something to occupy him other than sudden overwhelming urges regarding Sean. He held the camera up towards the trees and successfully snapped a picture.

"Just needed a good banging, then, eh?" Sean asked.

"Um--yeah--" Viggo stammered, wondering why it suddenly seemed as if everything Sean said had a double meaning. "We--we don't have to do any more, though--" he stopped as Sean moved away, seemingly ready to pose again.

"So what do you think?" Sean was asking.

"About what?" Viggo lifted the camera, and increased the distance between them, trying to get all of Sean in the shot.

"Shorts lower?" Sean started tugging at the fabric at his hips, forcing the waistband down, revealing the narrow trail of wet, dark blonde hair leading down to--

And then Sean shouted something, told him to stop, but it was too late. Viggo stepped back into one of the deck chairs, and was instantly thrown off-balance. He tumbled backwards, his first instinct to wrap his arms around his cameras and protect them as he crashed to the ground.

He let out a startled cry as his elbows collided with rough edges and he felt the metal arm of the chair skate up under his shirt and slash across his flesh; he grimaced and tensed as he rapidly slid down, his tailbone smacking onto the concrete.

"Oh Christ, that fucking hurts," he groaned.

"Dammit, Vig, are you all right?" And Sean was leaning over him, dripping water onto him, his face filled with genuine concern. "Did you hurt yourself? Can you move?"

Despite the pain resonating up his spine, Viggo wiggled his toes in answer. "Didn't break anything," he grunted, trying to get up, wincing as his back brushed the metal edge of the chair again.

"Just stay still a minute," Sean instructed, carefully grasping the camera straps and pulling them over Viggo's head. He reached over and set them on another chair that had escaped Viggo's clumsiness. "What the hell were you doing?" he chuckled. "Was I just so gorgeous that you fell over from the sheer power of my beauty?"

If Viggo hadn't been distracted by the pain, he would have flushed at the accuracy of that statement. As it was, his mind fell into old patterns and he said flatly, "Actually the lens cracked. I thought for a minute I had gone blind."

Sean laughed. "Your sense of humour is intact, it seems." But then he sobered quickly, when his fingers went around Viggo's waist to try to help him up. He drew his hands back suddenly, and they both stared at the blood on them. "Oh, you've done a fine job," Sean breathed out. "Come on, let's get you in the house."

Viggo was more than willing to agree, and let Sean help him up. He groaned as he got to his feet, a sudden sharp pain snapping through his left leg. When he tried to put his weight on it, his knee crumpled and he fell against Sean. "Oh fuck," he muttered. "I think I pulled a hamstring."

Sean shoved two steady hands under his arms and pulled him upright. "Dammit, Vig! You fought 10,000 orcs and you got a few scratches. Today you get your arse whipped by a bloody deck chair. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Viggo started laughing now, a sort of pathetic cackling. "I lost a tooth to those orcs. Just get me in the fucking house before something else happens to me."

"And how am I supposed to do that when you can't walk?"

"I don't know, drag me. You're big, fucking warrior Boromir. You figure it out."

Sean grinned, then, a grin that worried Viggo. "All right, Lord Aragorn." And with that, he dipped his shoulder down low and thrust it against Viggo's waist.

Viggo tried to yell out a protest, but the air was pushed out of him through the abrupt pressure on his stomach, and he suddenly found himself hanging upside down.

Oh no. This was not good. Well, being draped over Sean's shoulder and being carried into the house was good. Looking down Sean's bare back at his nicely rounded ass was good. Having his hands pressed against his rescuer's wet flesh was also good, as was the feel of Sean's large hands holding the backs of his thighs.

What was not good was the way his stomach felt. Or his throbbing leg muscles. Or the way this position was stretching the damaged skin on his back and he was sure he could feel the blood trickling down, well, up his spine.

But what was really, unbelievably, totally fucking not good about this was that he still had a blazing erection. And right now it was pressed against Sean's shoulder and Viggo was praying silently in all the languages he knew that Sean was too distracted to notice, or that he would just assume Viggo had something in his pocket, or think that the zipper on his jeans was especially bulky.

He wanted to close his eyes, too, to clamp them shut against the sight of Sean's ass moving as he walked, his bare feet kicking up behind, his shorts smacking wetly against his thighs with each step. But he couldn't. Couldn't tear his gaze away, and so his cock stayed hard and he felt himself slowly dying of a mixture of lust and embarrassment. And maybe even blood loss.

Sean gave him directions a few times, telling him to duck his head, or pull his elbows in, or in one case, to flip the light switch on. Viggo did shut his eyes when they started up the stairs to the second floor, not able to stomach the vertigo of watching that upside-down.

Viggo felt his breath hitch a little as he was carried into the bedroom Sean was staying in. They made their way around to the foot of the bed where Sean hunched down and deposited Viggo somewhat jarringly onto the mattress.

"You all right?" Sean asked, still looking amused. He pulled off Viggo's hat, then roughly pushed the static rumpled hair away from his friend's eyes. "Your face is all red."

Viggo looked up at him, rubbing his stomach. "That's what happens when you get slung over someone's shoulder and all the blood rushes to your head." And then some small part of him thought for an insane minute that Sean would reply It seems as if all the blood has rushed to your other head.

But Sean didn't say it. He just smiled and leaned over, picking up the back of Viggo's shirt to take a peek at the injury. "Ah, you're bleeding all over. Come on, stand up a minute."

With a groan, Viggo let Sean help him up and he stood there, balancing gingerly on his good leg. "What're you doing?"

Sean moved around and pulled the covers off the perfectly made bed, leaving only dark blue plaid sheets. "One moment," he said and disappeared into the bathroom. He came back out with a towel and laid it on the middle of the bed. "Don't want to get blood on Orli's sheets," he grinned.

"I'm sure there's been worse things on Orli's sheets," Viggo answered, feeling his pulse start to race out of control.

Sean chuckled. "Come on, clothes off, face down on the bed. I've got to clean up those cuts and I can wrap up your leg for you, if you like."

Viggo choked. "What?"

"Your clothes. Come on. You've got blood all over your jeans. If I can rinse them in cold water right away I can get it out."

"Since when are you so fucking domestic?" Viggo called out, as Sean disappeared again into the bathroom. With shaking fingers he unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging out of it and letting it fall to the floor. Then he undid his pants and slid them down as far as he could reach without shrieking from the tight cord of throbbing pain in his leg.

He stood back upright again, panting a little, and nearly had a heart attack when he looked at himself. The soft cotton low-rise briefs he'd stepped into that morning were no match for his persistent hard-on. The fabric stretched forward lewdly, the head of his cock peeking out the top of the straining waistband. "Jesus fucking Christ," he muttered.

"What happened?" Sean's voice echoed from inside the bathroom.

In a moment of panic, Viggo flung himself face down on the bed, crying out at the resulting sharp stinging in his leg.

"Viggo?" Sean peeked out from the doorway. He took one look at his friend and started laughing again. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were drunk."

"I wish I was," Viggo mumbled into the crook of his arm, closing his eyes against the humiliation.

He heard Sean's footsteps and then felt Sean's hands, pulling his jeans from around his ankles. "Plenty of beer downstairs. I'll get you one as soon as we've finished up."

Viggo waited until Sean left the room again before crawling pitifully forward, and then collapsing onto his stomach. He ventured a glance over to the doorway and watched Sean's shadow on the wall, wondering what Sean was up to. There was a rustling, and then the water in the tub running, and splashing around. Must be washing the jeans, Viggo thought, embarrassed all over again that Sean was having to play nursemaid. He wanted to kill himself for being so uncoordinated.

And then Sean came into view, framed by the open doorway, leaning over to grab clothes that'd been thrown over the towel rack.

Viggo bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood.

Sean was wet. Bent over. And naked.

Holding back a moan of appreciation took all of his willpower, and the exertion made tears spring to his eyes. He watched, mesmerized, as Sean stepped into a pair of grey shorts, the soft material sliding up his slender legs and then clinging perfectly to the curve of his ass.

Sean ran a hand through his damp hair and started to turn around. Viggo clamped his eyes shut, praying his friend would believe he hadn't seen him.

"Oh sorry," Sean said calmly, not sounding sorry at all. "Probably just gave you an eyeful of arse."

Okay, play it that way. "Got a pretty damn good look at your nuts, too."

Sean laughed aloud and made his way around the bed, stopping to sit down near Viggo's waist. "You should be thankful, right? You get medical attention and a free show."

"If you had tits that might mean something," Viggo snapped. That made Sean pause a moment, and Viggo realized that Sean pretty much knew Vig swung both ways. And Viggo wondered if he'd just somehow indirectly insulted his friend.

But Sean was smiling again. "I think you need the medical attention more than the tits."

Viggo sighed. "I think I need my head examined."

"One thing at a time."

Viggo felt a cool cloth on his back, wiping the blood away. He couldn't help but flinch.

"Easy," Sean's voice was soft, with that deep rumble just below it.

Viggo wasn't sure exactly how a sound that erotic was supposed to make him relax, but he tried anyway. "Is it bad?" he asked. "It feels like I've been sawed in half, which probably means it's the size of a paper-cut."

Now the low throaty chuckle. Also sexy. "It's not real bad. Just a bit deep on one side here." Viggo heard him rummaging around; it sounded like bottles rolling around on hard plastic. "Good thing Orli's accident-prone, you know?"

Viggo glanced back and saw that Sean had an overflowing first-aid kit. "Did he steal that from an emergency room somewhere?" He stared at the myriad of contents tumbling out each time Sean pushed his fingers inside. "What is that, a syringe?? Please tell me you have no plans to use that."

"Don't want me to poke you, eh?" Sean grinned. "Just relax. It'll all be over soon."

Viggo's eyes widened. He wondered now if everything Sean had ever said had been tinged with double meaning, or if it was just that his damn cock seemed to be doing all the thinking today.

"Come on, lie back down and take it easy, like. Let me get this cleaned up for you."

"Okay," Viggo acquiesced, resting his cheek against his arm again. He closed his eyes and prepared himself for the onslaught. "Thanks for doing this, Sean," he said quietly. "I feel like such an idiot."

"Well you should." Sean's voice was tilted with amusement as usual. "But it's all right. Someone I know talked me into calmer states when I had to go up in the helicopter again, so that's how it works. Friends, right?"

"Right." Friends. God, how he wished it was more than that.

Viggo closed his eyes and let Sean work his magic. The hands on his back were amazingly gentle. He realized after awhile that Sean had this cunning way of dragging the fingers of one hand around aimlessly on his skin, distracting him while the other hand cleaned the wound. He didn't mind at all being distracted.

"You're good at this," he mumbled into his arm. "I'm not even crying or anything."

Sean snorted. "I've fixed up the girls a few times. Best to prevent tears, if you can."

"Glad to know I'm in the same category as a little girl."

"That's right. I expect you'll want me to kiss it and make it better when I'm done."

Viggo couldn't hold back a shiver. "I wouldn't presume to tell the physician how to do his job," he managed to get out, without too much of a waver.

"Well, that's very respectful of you. Guess I'll have to use me own judgement, then."

Viggo wondered if Sean was aware that he wasn't following the rules of acceptable male conversation. He should have said Piss off, you wanker, or some other bullshit, like claiming he'd rather kiss Gimli on his bearded mouth. Yeah, that would have been all right. Funny, too.

Of course he himself should have started correctly, by declining any kiss with indignation and saying something about Sean being a damn prissy English bastard.

So really, neither one of them was playing by the rules.

"There," Sean announced, patting a bandage into place. "Let's take a look at that leg, shall we?"

Viggo nearly jumped from the bed when Sean's warm hands encircled his thigh, just above the knee. He couldn't clamp down fast enough on a startled whimper, a mixture of pain and arousal that burned his ears when he heard it.

"God, you're wired tight today," Sean said, voice even as ever. "Where's Zen Viggo gone? On holiday?"

"I told you not to sneak up on me," Viggo joked, trying to keep his tone light. "It just fucking hurts, that's all. And I'm not used--I'm not used to people going to any trouble over me. I don't usually like it."

"Well, try to get used to it." Sean's fingers were light on his skin, pressing delicately here and there, feeling things out. "You need someone to take care of you once in awhile."

"Not when it's the fault of my stupidity. No one should go to any trouble then."

"That's the most ridiculous shit I've ever heard, that is," Sean scoffed. "I think you should just stop talking. From now on, you can only say yes or no."

Viggo couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Whatever you say, Sean."

"So you won't say anything else until I'm done?"

"Yes."

"And you'll let me do my job without causing me problems?"

"Yes."

"All right, then. Go back where you were and just relax."

Viggo complied, but once again he knew he wouldn't relax. Firstly, he was almost naked, face down on the bed. Secondly, Sean was almost naked, sitting next to him, massaging his leg with strong, long-fingered adeptness. Thirdly, the massage was a sinful mixture of pain and pleasure, eliciting such porno-like groans from him that he was sure his face was quickly turning a nice beet red color.

He tried to muffle the sounds in the pillow, but he knew Sean could still hear them. And his erection was pulsing now, so achingly hard that he thought for sure his pelvis must be noticeably raised above the bed.

As if hearing his thoughts, Sean suddenly said, "So, did you hurt your cock--"

"What?" Viggo squeaked, a sudden spasm wracking his body.

"That's not yes or no," Sean chuckled. "And don't interrupt. Did you hurt your coccyx? You know, your tailbone? Last time I fell down on me arse, I ended up bruising mine."

"Did you fall down or get knocked down?" Viggo muttered indignantly, the mix of sexual tension and pain beginning to take its toll.

"Fell down. Playing football with the hobbits and the damn Elf, of course. Didn't you notice I couldn't sit down for something like a week?"

"I thought that was for a different reason."

"Ahh, cheeky." Sean's voice was lower now. "Now we're getting somewhere."

Viggo turned and looked at him. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"I get the feeling you're--" he felt his chest tighten.

"Yeah?"

Just say it. "Teasing me."

Sean's eyes were sparkling. "Of course I'm teasing you. I always tease you."

Viggo frowned, trying to figure if Sean was deliberately misunderstanding him. "No, I mean--sexually."

To his surprise, Sean's grin widened. "Me? Teasing you?"

Viggo flushed. "I know, I'm sorry, it's crazy but--"

"Teasing would imply I didn't mean it, now wouldn't it?"

"Well, I just--" Viggo stopped when he realized what Sean had said. "What?"

"And I would say it's been you teasing me, more like."

"What?" Viggo's eyes were wide. "Me? I didn't--"

"Inviting me on this weekend," Sean was saying in a suggestive tone, "then showing up in your cute little hat and--"

"It's a toque." And Viggo had no idea why it mattered.

Sean just laughed and went on. "Your cute little toque, then. And your ass."

Viggo yelped. "What?" He didn't know why he couldn't think of anything more constructive to counter with. He didn't know why he couldn't think.

"Wearing jeans so tight I could tell you dress left? Tell me that wasn't intentional!"

"I don't--I never--"

"Staring at me like some wild animal, ready to pounce--forcing me to be your little boy-toy model in your photographs--"

Now Viggo was indignant. "Forcing?? You--you were--"

Sean put on a hurt expression. "Yeah, I were throwing every innuendo at you I possibly could, and then you acted all coy like you weren't interested."

"I'm not--I mean, I didn't--"

"C'mon, Vig," Sean rested his hand on Viggo's thigh again. His fingers were warm and a little damp. "I certainly felt some interest digging into my shoulder when I carried you up here--or are you gonna tell me you had some extra rolls of film in your pocket?"

Viggo laughed, then, a shocked, abrupt sound erupting from his throat. Dying of embarrassment, he had to bury his face in the pillow again. "God, Sean, stop!" His voice came out muffled, so he turned enough to free his lips and peek out with his left eye. "You're not being serious." It hung there, something like a question, but not.

Sean sighed. "You're so completely daft, sometimes." He leaned in and kissed Viggo's cheek. "What do I have to do to convince you?" His face close, his breath warm, he grasped Viggo's hand and pulled it towards him.

Viggo gasped as he felt his fingers pressed against Sean's very prominent erection. Either that or Sean was hiding a hell of a lot of film. He tried to pull back but Sean held him in place, even thrusting a little into Viggo's hand.

"Dammit, Vig," Sean growled as Viggo moaned in response. "You've no idea how long I've wanted you."

"You're right," Viggo panted. "I've no idea about anything." His head was swirling, trying to comprehend what was happening, and if he could really believe it.

Sean grasped Viggo's shoulder and gently tugged him up onto his side, then he stretched out to lie facing him. He looked down at Viggo's straining underwear with more than a little interest. "Is that what you've been trying to hide from me?"

"Trying, yes." Viggo stared at the ceiling, still flushed. "When you got into the pool..." He let his eyes slip to Sean's face and he tentatively reached up and caressed his friend's cheek. "You are so fucking gorgeous." His hand shook a little, still afraid that Sean might only be teasing.

Sean curled his fingers around Viggo's and kissed his palm. His eyes were bright and his lip curled mischievously. "I thought you'd go for the backwards somersault bit. You really looked like you were gonna jump me right then and there."

"I guess I should have," Viggo smiled ruefully. "If I had, maybe I wouldn't have fallen on my damn coccyx."

Sean laughed. "You did hurt it then?"

"It seems that way."

"Well, perhaps I should check it for you," Sean said softly, "but first I think I need to kiss you."

"Okay," Viggo said, suddenly feeling all awkward and stupid, like some teenager at his first make-out session.

Sean nuzzled his cheek first. "Why're you so tense, Vig? We've known each other awhile, haven't we?"

"I--I thought you were straight," Viggo blurted.

"Well, I nearly am. Done a few blokes here and there. You never asked, now did you?" Sean's voice was an intoxicating mixture of mirth and seductiveness.

Viggo just stared at him. "Generally when you think a guy is straight, it doesn't--it doesn't seem like the best idea to ask him if he'd like to fuck you sometime."

"Guess not," Sean agreed. "You could have asked Orli, then. About me, I mean."

"Orli knew?" Viggo couldn't stop a sudden surge of jealousy. "You told Orli but you didn't tell me?"

"Well, he asked." Sean's grin was stunning as always. He reached up and trailed his thumb along Viggo's jaw. "I think he was a bit put out when I told him I fancied you. Probably wondering why I'd go for the crazy old man instead of him."

Viggo's skin quivered under his touch. "I'm wondering, too, actually."

"Why, would you fancy a bit of youthful Elf ass?"

Viggo flushed, wondering how this conversation had gotten to this point. "He's a bit difficult to ignore."

"So are you," Sean sighed, and then he put his mouth over Viggo's.

Viggo didn't realize how long he'd been waiting for that moment until Sean's lips touched his. He let out a soft whimper, one that would have embarrassed him earlier, but he was beyond that now. He was lost, totally lost in Sean's kiss.

Sean was making little soft appreciative sounds himself, his lips caressing, teeth gently biting. He curled his long fingers into Viggo's tousled hair, pulling him closer.

Viggo arched his body against Sean's, shivering at the feel of his friend's damp skin, moaning as their erections rubbed together. He gripped Sean's arm hard, not wanting to ever let him go. He ached at the knowledge that he could have had all this so much sooner, if only he'd--

The thoughts vanished as Sean's tongue slipped into his mouth. He bit down on it gently, and his body vibrated with Sean's responsive groan. He plunged in with his own tongue, dying for a taste of his beautiful, wet, desirable, sexy Sean.

And then Sean was pulling away, and urging Viggo to flip over. His hand was warm on Viggo's hip. "I think I should take a look at that coccyx of yours, now. See if you bruised anything."

Viggo's whole body tingled as he rolled over, felt Sean's fingers skipping down his body, felt Sean's lips kissing a path down his spine. Then his underwear was sliding off of his hips, and he could feel Sean's breath against his skin.

"Looks damn good from here," Sean said appreciatively, nuzzling into Viggo's cleft.

Viggo reached back and clumsily curled his fingers into Sean's damp hair. "Sean..."

"Easy there...let the doctor do his work," Sean chuckled. Every word sent a little hot flush of air across Viggo's flesh. "Funny thing, that."

"What?"

"Orli's got lube and condoms in his first aid kit."

Viggo laughed a little, then gasped as Sean's tongue teased him. "I guess--I guess it has everything you need to fix me up, then."

Sean's hand reached around and gently stroked Viggo's arousal. "That it does. I was thinking I'd have to check for...internal injuries."

"Yes," Viggo writhed as much as his pained leg would allow. "Guess this means you're gonna poke me after all?"

A soft laugh. "I suppose it does." And then Sean slid up again to lie behind Viggo. He curled a strong arm over Viggo's chest and pulled him closer so their bodies were pressed together. "So. You're okay with this, then?"

Viggo turned his head so he could rub his cheek against Sean's, their stubble making a nice scratchy sound. "Now who's being daft?" he grinned. He could see those lovely green eyes sparkling in response; his friend was always highly amused when Viggo borrowed one of his words or phrases.

"Just wanted to be certain." Sean kissed his ear and tightened the hug. "It's gonna be good, Viggo," he practically purred. "I'm sorry you fell, but I promise, tomorrow your ass is gonna hurt for a much better reason."

Viggo let out a sound that was half indignation, half giggle. "That's so fucking romantic, Sean."

"What do you expect from a straight guy?" Sean ran his tongue along Viggo's neck. "You're the one that was talking about 'poking'."

Viggo shivered at the wet slide up his throat. "Well, you said that first," he protested, wondering how long they could go on like this, teasing. He rubbed his ass up against Sean's cloth-covered erection, reveling in the little gasp he heard in reply.

"All right then," Sean murmured, his voice a little shaky. "Let's see if we can't fix this as well."

"Fix what?" Viggo wondered if he'd lost track of the conversation. Overpowering lust had the tendency to do that to him.

"Our desperate lack of romance, which you so keenly pointed out."

Viggo thought he might be flushing again. "It's all right. I don't think you want me reciting poetry or anything. Especially since you are mostly straight."

"Unlike you, who goes a little to the left."

Now Viggo knew he was flushing. "You just couldn't stop yourself, could you?"

"Sorry. Let's try this, then?" Sean took a deep breath. "I'm going to hold you," he began, snuggling closer. "I'm going to touch you," his fingers tickled lightly through the hair on Viggo's chest, "I'm going to kiss you and taste you." His lips caressed Viggo's shoulder, his tongue slipping out to soothe after he'd nipped the tanned skin.

Viggo jumped and squirmed happily in Sean's embrace. "Dammit, that sounds good..." And oh, how he meant it.

"And then I'm going to grab you," Sean's hand moved down and curled around Viggo's cock, "and stroke you," his fingers gripped steadily as Viggo lurched upwards with a groan. Sean's voice lowered into deep scratchy tones, lips tickling Viggo's ear. "And then I'm going to make love to you, sweet and slow, until you can't take it anymore and you come all over Orli's nice sheets." He paused, obviously waiting for some sort of response, then his laugh vibrated against Viggo's skin. "Yes or no, Viggo. That all right with you, then?"

"Fucking hell, yes," Viggo choked out, his whole body trembling. "Yes!"

*

Viggo sat by the edge of the pool, in the deck chair of death, sunglasses on against the setting sun. It wasn't as cool as it had been that first day, but he was wearing his toque again. Of course it was more for the way Sean looked at him when he was wearing it, than to help any chill in the air.

Sean was fussing around the pool, using some long-handled screen on a pole to filter leaves out of the water. Viggo was content to remain still and watch Sean leaning over the edge, shoulders flexing under his light sweater. His ass was divine, perfect and round under his tailored khaki shorts, his legs taut with exertion as he bent and reached to get at the center of the pool.

His own legs were stretched out on the long chair cushion, his knee and part of his thigh carefully wrapped by the doctor in residence, Sean. He hadn't brought any shorts of his own, so he was wearing Sean's, a pair of navy sweatpant cutoffs.

He knew he looked ridiculous, but every time Sean glanced back over his shoulder, it was a look of interest, of desire. Viggo knew he was returning that very same look.

A part of him felt something strange inside, curling in his stomach, nagging him. He tried to ignore it, to put it aside, but it was persistent. He did his best to shake it off. It was too soon to name it. They were friends, yes, very good friends. And now it was even better. Now that he'd run his tongue along every inch of Sean's body. Now that Sean had been inside him.

He trembled at the memory. But that other thing. No. Too soon.

Sean bent down then, to scratch at one of his bare toes, and Viggo couldn't resist the perfect picture of his ass up in the air so he grabbed his camera and fired off a quick shot.

Sean turned at the sound and flash and smirked at him. "Glad to see you're keeping to your chair when you take pictures of me now. Wouldn't want you to fall over again."

Viggo opened his mouth to retort, but he was drowned out by a loud bellow.

"SEANIE!!"

Viggo looked toward the sound, and saw a blur of Orli running by and jumping unceremoniously into a startled Sean's arms.

"What the--" Sean accepted the younger man's kisses, one on each cheek, with a laugh. "Had a good time, then?" he asked, pushing Orli back to arm's length.

"Oh the best, man!" Orlando gestured wildly. "The waves were gorgeous. Dom and I, we--" he stopped at Sean's questioning look. "What is it?"

"Just wondering if it were silly hat week and no one bothered to tell me," Sean grinned, using two fingers to tweak the pompom at the top of Orli's striped wool hat.

Orli followed Sean's gaze to the occupied deck chair. "Viggo!" he exclaimed, sliding his lanky body over to kiss Viggo warmly on the lips. "I didn't fucking see you there!" Then he looked down and backed up a little, as if to get a better view of him.

Viggo knew it must look strange, being that he was wearing shorts with a flannel shirt and a wool hat. And especially as he was sitting gingerly on an inflatable pink life preserver. "Yes, Orli?" he asked, trying to appear as innocent as possible.

"What the hell happened to you?"

Viggo was happy the sunglasses hid his eyes. "I fell."

Orli arched one dark eyebrow. "Really? How?"

"Playing football."

Orli snorted, his nose wrinkling and his face scrunching into an expression at once both ridiculous and adorable. "I've heard that one before!" He returned to stand near Sean. "Looks like I'm not the only one who had a good time." He took off his hat and put it on Sean instead, pulling on the little strings to tug the flaps in place over the older man's ears. He laughed delightedly at the image this presented. "Looks like the old men got freaky this weekend!"

Viggo couldn't help but laugh, too, at the blatant accusation, and at the sight of Sean peeking out from under all those orange and purple stripes. He watched with increasing amusement as Sean swatted at Orli, at the same time tugging the hat off. Sean was only playing at being mad, but even so, Orli made sure to stay just out of reach.

"It's certainly no secret who bottoms," Orli giggled, looking over at Viggo and his life preserver.

"I really did fall," Viggo protested, though weakly.

"Yeah, I bet I know onto what," the younger man grinned, poking at Sean's stomach. He was too slow, though, and Sean got in a good smack to his shoulder. "Ow! Hey, watch it!" Orli rubbed the offended area. "Why are you mad at me, anyway? You should be thanking me, letting you guys stay here the weekend. Obviously it all worked out, right?"

"Orli." Something had just occurred to Viggo, and he had no idea why, but he felt like asking about it just then. "Those shorts you bought for Sean?"

Orlando looked confused for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "Oh yeah, from last time in Honolulu, you mean?"

"Did you realize that big yellow stripe becomes see-through when it gets wet?"

"Oh, man!" Orli looked perturbed, and he turned to Sean. "You finally wore them and I missed it??" Then he clamped his hands over his mouth and his eyes widened. If he hadn't been so tan, Viggo suspected they might have seen a blush spreading over his perfect cheekbones.

"I suppose that means you did realize," Sean said, taking a step closer to Orli.

"Well, I--uh--" he started to look panicky. "I mean--who can blame me? Vig?"

Viggo pushed his sunglasses up and looked over at the beautiful blonde man he had just spent an amazing weekend with. "Well, no. I can't blame you. But Sean can."

And with that, Sean grabbed Orli by his belt loops and flung him, fully dressed, into the pool.

Viggo worried for a brief second as the young man landed with a huge splash, his head plunging just underneath the surface. But here was someone who'd been dunked a hundred times in waters much more dangerous than this, and his dark curly head soon came shaking up to the top.

"Holy fucking shit!!!" Orli sputtered, managing a labored doggie paddle in his heavy jeans. He stared up at Sean with wide, surprised eyes. "What the fuck did you do that for??"

Sean was standing with his hands on his hips. "Just thought you needed a cooling off, you standing there picturing me in my transparent shorts."

"Well, fuck that. Now I'm picturing evil ways of getting back at you."

"Why don't we picture you getting out of the pool?" Viggo interjected. "C'mon, Sean, help him up. I don't want him to get pneumonia."

"He's right, lad, c'mere." Sean knelt down at the edge of the pool and reached out a hand to Orli.

Orlando only hesitated a moment before paddling forward and using Sean's help to clamber up and out.

Once he was standing firmly on the concrete, he pushed Sean away, though not roughly. "This is the fucking thanks I get," he grumbled, pulling on his tee-shirt and twisting it to wring out some of the water.

The fruitlessness of this gesture, coupled with Orli's wounded puppy expression, only caused Viggo to start laughing. Sean's eyes lit brightly on him, then Orlando, and then he joined in.

Orlando did his best to stare at them angrily, but after a few moments, he couldn't help it and his face broke into a wide grin. "Fucking hell, you guys," he complained, lifting one water-logged Nike shoe and then the other. "I'm so totally fucking soaked!" He reached a hand up and pushed back his sopping mop of dark curly hair, running his fingers through it to try to direct it away from his face.

At that moment the sun dipped down again as it had that first night, and Viggo's laughter died in his throat as the light reflected off the pool and hit Sean and Orli full force.

Sean's hair became a halo of brilliant gold, and his pale skin was luminescent next to Orli's dark olive complexion. Orli's dark curls shone like tendrils of black satin, dripping shimmering wetness down his long, graceful neck.

Sean had a strong hand on Orli's narrow shoulder, as they laughed together, two different but equally magnetic grins, reflecting each other's happiness. Sean's angular, elegant profile stood in sharp relief against the flame red sky, and Orli's eyes looked deep and dark above his razor-sharp cheekbones. Viggo's mouth went dry as he took in the overwhelming beauty in front of him, that pairing of light and dark, broad-shouldered masculinity and lithe sensuality...

The sudden drop-off of sound from Viggo eventually got to Sean, and he turned a questioning look to his friend. His eyes narrowed when he saw what Viggo knew was obvious admiration and lust painted across his features.

Curious, Sean glanced back at Orli, whose infectious broad smile was gleaming in the sun. Viggo could see Sean's look change from amusement to feral-eyed interest, as he took in the way Orli's thin beige tee-shirt was clinging to his delicately sculpted chest, pendants trickling water onto his belly--the taut tan skin exposed from the gradual slipping down of his soaked and heavy jeans.

Orli noticed the change in the air and his smile faltered. His eyes widened and a little furrow in his brow gave him a sudden look of apprehension. "Hey," he said, his voice hesitant. "What're you two looking at?"

Sean looked over at Viggo, his lip curling in that way that made Viggo's shorts feel instantly tighter. "What was it you said, Vig?"

"He is difficult to ignore," Viggo repeated, meaning it.

The smirk deepened. "That he is."

Orli took a small step backward. "Are you guys thinking--"

"And if we are?" Sean asked, curling his fingers into Orli's belt loops and tugging him closer.

Orli swallowed hard. Viggo knew what it was like to be close-up to that powerful body and those glittering green, hungry eyes.

"What're you afraid of?" Sean's voice was teasing. "You're the one buying me see-through shorts and kissing Vig full on the mouth. Perhaps it's time to make good on all of your hints."

Orli squirmed and looked embarrassed, but he tried to play it cool. "You're cute and all, Sean, but--" he pointed at Viggo-- "I don't want to end up like that!"

"For God's sake, I FELL!!" Viggo cried out.

Sean laughed and Orli took the moment of distraction to break away with a squeal. Sean lunged forward to try to grab for him, but Orlando was agile and danced just out of his grasp.

"I think he's too young for us," Viggo observed as Sean just stood and watched Orli race into the house.

"No need to exert meself when he wants to be caught," Sean replied devilishly. He walked over to the chair and leaned forward. "C'mon, old man," he said, tugging Viggo into a standing position.

Viggo swayed on his good leg and leaned against Sean, taking a moment to let the warmth seep into him.

Sean smiled at him and caressed his cheek. "You and your cute little hat," he said softly.

"Toque," Viggo corrected. "And I'm starting to worry I can never get rid of it. You might not look at me that way again."

Sean chuckled. "I'll love you no matter what you're wearing. Or not wearing. You ought to know that."

"What?"

"Oh, so we're back to that, now, are we?" He pulled Viggo close and pressed his mouth to Viggo's neck.

Viggo felt a surge of heat inside of him and he curled a hand through Sean's soft blonde hair. He buried his nose in it and inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet scent of coconut shampoo, and the faintest hint of chlorine. "Sean, I--"

"For fuck's sake!" Orli's voice broke through the quiet.

They both looked up to see him hanging out an upstairs window.

"I knew you were old, but shit, I thought you'd both be faster than that."

"Piss off, you lil wanker," Sean shouted back.

"Get up here, will ya? I need help getting out of these wet clothes." He signaled the end of the conversation by slamming the window shut.

Sean looked at Viggo. "Should we help him?"

"Well, you are the one who pushed him into the pool."

"True." His eyes searched Viggo's face. "You okay with the pup? We could just lock him in the bathroom, if you'd prefer. After we'd got the first aid kit out of there, of course."

Viggo chuckled, and then shifted around, feeling self-conscious. "No, Orli--Orli is good." He dared to meet Sean's eyes. "I have to confess to being something of a voyeur."

Sean glanced down at Viggo's camera, the one he'd used to snap a picture of Sean's ass just a few minutes before. "Really? I'd never have guessed." He grinned as Viggo flushed. "I'm all right with that, so long as you don't only just watch."

"Well, I like to give orders, too," Viggo said, before realizing with a sickening wave of embarrassment what Sean had really meant.

But Sean wasn't appalled or angry. He cupped Viggo's face in his hands. "Do you now? Well, I'm game. As long as you promise to join us before too long, eh?"

Viggo couldn't help the giddy smile on his face. "You might have to help me, being that I'm a stupid cripple."

"Oh, I'll help." Sean's eyes were dark now, and primal. "I'll hold Orli down for you and everything."

Viggo's reply froze in his throat and his cock, showing plenty of life before, now pressed fervently against Sean's leg.

Sean's lip twitched in amusement. "C'mon love, the youth have no patience." And with that, he bent down again and with a sharp grunt, hoisted Viggo onto his shoulder again.

They both turned at the same time and saw their reflection in the downstairs window, each upside-down to the other. "Sean, I--" Viggo choked out, wanting to say so much, to let Sean know about the way he was trembling inside, at how he'd fantasized about Sean but hadn't known how good it would really be, and--

"I know, Viggo," Sean said softly, and he rubbed the back of Viggo's leg. "I know."

And Viggo smiled. Maybe it wasn't too soon after all.