Viggo stared into the mirror, noticing a few lines he hadn't seen before. Then again, he didn't usually look all that much. It was just today, the day that shouldn't bother him but for some reason always did. Not so much growing old as running out of time. He was always short of time.
He left the bathroom, padding barefoot past the doorway to his studio. He looked inside, at all the unfinished works. The giant canvas in the center, the one he'd promised himself he'd finish last year, sat there, a muddle of sky blue and gray. The swirl of yellow in the center seemed to glare at him accusingly.
He moved into the bedroom, trying not to look at the piles of notebooks on the dresser, the unread books on the floor. The blinking light on the answering machine.
He sprawled on the bed, the down comforter feeling good against his naked skin. The corner of an envelope dug into his arm and he swept the mail off onto the carpet. Cards, letters, the messages on the machine. All heartfelt wishes from people he loved. People who all happened to be busy this year. Out of town. Unable to, so sorry can't...
Not that he should mind. He'd done his share of being unavailable this year...well, for a number of years now. Filming, interviews, appearances. And sometimes he just wanted to be alone. He liked people, needed people, but sometimes the stress of trying to be everything that everyone wanted, of remembering who wanted what--sometimes he just needed to be alone.
So maybe it was a good thing. A day of reflection, a day to write, or just think. Maybe get back to that angry yellow eye in the studio.
The phone rang, startling him, making him sit up straight on the bed. He stared at it, a rush of excitement at first, but it dulled by the third ring. More good wishes, more apologies. Might as well just let them talk to the machine. He fell back against the cushions and closed his eyes.
The machine beeped, and then a deep, scratchy voice came over the speaker. "Hey, Vig, it's me. Look, I'm in town for about five minutes--damn, are you there? I'm in the car on me way over, actually, but if you're not there--"
The receiver was in Viggo's hand then, his breath gusting out hotly before his words tumbled out. "I'm here, Sean, I'm here."
Sean laughed, a beautiful rumbling sound. "You sound as if you've been running full out--" then his voice dipped down, low and conspiratorial, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I? If so, just say the word."
"No, no, just running to get the phone," Viggo assured him, trying not to focus on that deep voice, on what those bass tones always stirred up inside him. "You said you're on your way over? How far?"
"I dunno, fifteen minutes, maybe? You up for a bit of company? I know I'm disrupting our once per year schedule--" he laughed again.
Viggo smiled, holding the phone closer. "It's a welcome disruption. Have you eaten? Should I cook something?"
"Don't worry about that. We'll figure it out when I get there. Don't be tidying up, either. I've been to a few Hobbit houses and I can no longer be shocked."
"I can believe that," Viggo chuckled. "I'll just throw some clothes on and I'll meet you at the door."
There was a pause then, only the soft whirring of the phone connection.
"Sean?" Viggo pressed the receiver to his ear, hoping they hadn't been cut off.
"Are you telling me you're talking to me right now, without any clothes on?"
Viggo felt his whole body heat. "Yeah," he replied, too stunned to lie.
"For shame, Viggo," Sean chastised softly. "I'm trying to drive here. See you in a few."
The phone clicked off, and at first Viggo didn't move. If he didn't know better, Sean had sounded almost--suggestive. But Sean had never--
He realized then that his other hand was wrapped reflexively around his cock, which had become hard at the first sound of Sean's voice. He cursed under his breath, throwing the phone down and moving over to the closet to find a shirt long enough to cover himself. There was no way he'd be able to calm down in the few minutes before Sean arrived, especially since the very thought of Sean walking through his front door made him even harder.
It had always been difficult, keeping his desire for Sean in check. They really were good friends, and tough as it was to find time to see one another, Sean had always made an effort. Different cities, different countries, wherever it was that they might cross paths, Sean was always willing to slip out for a drink and a few laughs. Viggo would sit across from him, listen to his stories, his rants about football, and try not to notice how green his eyes were in the dim light of the bar, or how bright his smile. He'd try not to stare at Sean's broad shoulders, and definitely not at his ass hugged by soft faded jeans.
Sean had always been thoughtful, and a good friend, but he'd never hinted at anything more. Viggo wasn't convinced Sean was completely straight, but it was always very clear that Sean wasn't interested in Viggo for anything like that.
He'd gotten worried over the last year. There'd been a few phone calls, but they hadn't seen each other in a while. And then Sean had appeared for the History of Violence screening, and had wrapped Viggo into a big hug at the party. Viggo had seen the pictures, after, flushing with embarrassment when he saw how much his eyes were shining. They'd shared a bottle of champagne, no glasses required, and Viggo had tried so very hard not to think about tasting Sean every time he took a swig.
He'd gotten himself a bit drunk, so the next morning he hadn't been sure if he'd remembered the evening correctly. But it seemed Sean had been different, nothing overt, but just...friendlier. Sean had sat close to him, and he thought he'd felt Sean's hand on his thigh for awhile. But maybe that was just wishful thinking, or his dreams getting mixed up with reality.
The doorbell rang, and Viggo nearly fell into the closet. He jumped into a pair of his tightest jeans, and attempted to button his flannel shirt as he ran down the hall.
When he flung open the door, he found Sean standing there, looking handsome and adorably rumpled. "Just off the plane?" he asked. The skies were gray and ominous looking, and he knew Sean hated to fly in bad weather.
"Long drive, actually. The plane was diverted." He dragged a large suitcase in behind him, and then closed the door. "It's a long story that's too boring to tell," he grinned. "Mind if I get cleaned up a bit?"
"No, make yourself at home. It's early yet, you want coffee?"
"Sounds fantastic."
Viggo hurried into the kitchen. He set the coffee up, then puttered around, cleaning off the table and setting out pastries from the bakery.
Sean appeared a few minutes later, still looking adorably rumpled, but with damp hair and flushed cheeks. He slid easily into one of the kitchen chairs, picking up a sweet roll in one hand and his coffee in the other. He looked so casual, so comfortable, Viggo could almost imagine he lived there. That thought proved to be too much and he quickly swept it away.
"I've a present for you, don't let me forget," Sean said, between mouthfuls.
Viggo looked up in surprise. They didn't always do presents. "Really? You didn't have to do that."
"I didn't." He grinned, then took a deep swig of coffee. "It's from Orlando. I saw him in New York, you know, and he said if I was coming out this way I could drop it off. It's a lovely book, poetry and art and all that. I think you'll like it."
"Oh. Thank you." Viggo stared down at the table, not sure what to say.
Sean leaned closer. "You two haven't had a falling out, have you?"
Viggo shook his head. "No, of course not."
"Have you seen him?"
"A few times, yeah. Our films kept crossing paths." He smiled weakly. The last time they'd bumped into each other, Orlando had looked at him wistfully. He knew he could have taken him home, could have made him his all over again. But he hadn't done it. He'd settled for a warm embrace in a dark hallway, his lips finding the soft skin of Orlando's neck. They'd exchanged a few whispered words, and one last lingering kiss. And then he'd let go, let him go like he should.
"Viggo?" Sean was waiting, wondering where his friend had drifted off to.
"It's not New Zealand anymore," Viggo said. "I don't want to confuse him."
To his surprise, Sean smiled. "I don't think he's all that confused." He devoured the rest of his pastry and then stood up. "C'mon. Show me your pitiful excuse for a garden so I can tell you everything you've done wrong."
Viggo laughed, and let Sean tug him out of the chair. They took their coffee out to the patio, where Sean tut-tutted over the wilting plants. "You really should have a gardener," he admonished.
"The landscapers take care of things when I'm away."
"Well, they're not taking care of this poor thing, are they?" He lifted one of the small pots, taking it out into the yard, pulling dead leaves off and letting them scatter over the grass.
"Sean." Viggo put his hands on his hips and tried to look stern. "What are you doing?"
Sean grinned and set the plant back down in its rightful place. "Sorry. It's a bit of a habit." He sat down on the low brick wall and faced out into the yard, watching as a flock of birds swooped from tree to tree.
Viggo walked around and sat next to him. For awhile it was only the sounds of the wildlife, the rustling in the trees, and a distant rumble of thunder. Viggo sipped his coffee and for the first time in a while, he felt very peaceful. He wasn't worried about time, or unfinished projects. It was just he, and Sean, enjoying the moment.
Without thinking about it, he leaned over, resting his head against Sean's shoulder. He closed his eyes, taking in Sean's warmth, enjoying the hard press of muscle and bone against his cheek.
"Miss me?" Sean asked.
Viggo heard the gentle amusement in his voice, and decided it was okay to stay a minute longer. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you for awhile again," he admitted. "This was a nice surprise."
"Glad to hear it," Sean answered. And then his arm slid across Viggo's back, hand curving around to touch Viggo's face. The long fingers danced across his cheek and then gently combed his hair back.
Viggo held his breath and didn't move. He and Sean had been affectionate before, but he'd always felt there was a certain line he shouldn't cross. He'd been careful, careful not to be too touchy-feely, but not too cold, either. There'd been plenty of handshakes, hugs, slaps on the back. Sean had tugged on his hair a few times, and given him a brief kiss on the cheek when he'd left New Zealand.
This seemed different. This was a little more, and Viggo feared it. Not because he didn't want it, but because he knew he'd just crave even more. And he wasn't sure if Sean really meant anything by it.
They'd all been a bit more melancholy since the last premiere for Rings. They'd felt it, known what was coming. Things would change, and they would all go their separate ways. It was the kind of magic you couldn't hold onto forever, and that day, looking into Orlando's soft brown eyes, they'd both known it. In a way, it was all the more beautiful for its brief lifespan, like a rainbow amongst the thunder. But in a way it was also like a big Orc knife to the chest.
That almost made him laugh, and his shoulders jostled a little. Sean tugged his hair and then Viggo sat up, looking at him. "What's going on in that head of yours?" Sean asked, sounding casual about it, but with eyes that seemed intent on an answer.
"Just thinking about Rings, that's all." He took another drink of his coffee, feeling colder now that he wasn't touching Sean. "Sometimes I go on for months without really even remembering it. And then something someone says, or some leaf floats off a tree and suddenly I'm reminded of some moment back then." He smiled crookedly. "I'm guessing that isn't normal. It was just a movie."
"Well, you're not normal, that's for certain," Sean teased. "But I think we all do the same. Every time I see Orlando on the telly I expect to see pointed ears sticking out of those curls of his."
Viggo laughed. "What's wrong with us? I just saw Elijah, and I wouldn't have been surprised at all if he'd been wearing a wig and furry feet." He snorted. "Actors are obviously delusional. We should seek help."
"Nah, our delusions are what make us special." He put his arm around Viggo again and hugged him close. "It's getting a bit nippy out here, isn't it? Best we go inside, then, eh?"
No sooner did he say it, than it began to rain, wet drops lightly speckling their shirts. They hurried back across the patio, slipping through the sliding doors just as it started to come down heavily.
"Just in time," Viggo announced. "C'mon, I'll put the fire on in the front room."
They refilled their coffee mugs, then Sean followed Viggo through the hall and down the steps to the sunken living room. Viggo switched on a few lamps, then went to turn on the fireplace, flames bursting into life around the simulated logs.
"Fake fire, eh?" Sean asked, rummaging through one of the bags he'd left at the front door.
Viggo stood in front of the brick hearth, holding his hands out to the warmth. "Well, the fire's not fake. Just the logs are. Lot easier to control and clean up, and it still gets plenty hot."
Sean walked over, thrusting a heavy book into Viggo's hands. "Here ya go, mate. From the boy."
Viggo smiled. "The boy is pushing 30 now, you know."
"Yeah, let's not talk about what we're pushing. He'll always be a boy to me. I'll be expecting him to shove my wheelchair about and carry all me parcels for me."
"Shut the fuck up," Viggo said, trying not to laugh. He opened the book, his eyes widening at the beautiful illustrations, pen and ink and then there were photographs, extreme close-ups of objects, full frames of mottled colors and strange shapes. "Inspiring," he murmured, turning page after page.
"I knew you'd like it." Then Sean paused, and when he spoke again, his voice sounded strange. "He still loves you, you know."
Viggo looked up at him, and was unable to read his expression. "I still love him, too," he answered honestly. "It's the only thing that hasn't changed."
Sean took a step closer, then took the book from Viggo's hands. He leaned over, resting it gently on one of the chairs, before straightening up and looking right into Viggo's eyes. "I still love you, too."
"What?" Viggo croaked, not sure if he was teasing, or joking, or just being-- But Sean didn't look like he was joking.
"You have such a big heart," Sean said, smiling as he tapped on Viggo's chest with his fingers. "I was hoping maybe there was some room left in there for me."
"You already have a room. Fuck, there's a whole suite of rooms in there," Viggo said, reaching up and taking hold of Sean's hand. "But what are you saying? I don't understand--"
But Sean's mouth was suddenly over his, drowning out his words. The kiss started out gentle, but once their tongues slid together, Sean started to devour. He licked into Viggo's mouth with broad, powerful strokes, exploring every inch. His teeth bit down on Viggo's lips, tugging and nipping and then soothing over with his warm, wet tongue.
Viggo didn't know what was happening, or why it was happening, but his mind couldn't hold onto anything. All there was was feeling, and touching, and Sean's brutal kiss.
Their hands grabbed at each other, and finally, finally, Viggo was able to touch Sean the way he wanted to. His fingers pushed up underneath Sean's shirt, feeling the warm skin, the smoothness of his belly, the tight line of his pectorals. He fought the urge to just spread his arms and tear the fabric from Sean's body, and instead lifted it until Sean grabbed the ends and yanked it off over his head.
Viggo pulled off his own shirt, practically whimpering when their chests slammed together again, skin to skin. Sean grabbed hold of his face, shoving their mouths together again hard, sucking the breath right from Viggo's lungs.
Just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, Sean shoved his hips forward, rubbing their erections together. Viggo began to see stars, his head swimming as all the blood rushed to his groin. He tried to pull away, to get a gasp of air, but then Sean broke the kiss. Their lips still brushed together as they both panted heavily, and then Sean tightened his fingers on Viggo's jaw and stared hungrily into his eyes. "Take me to your bed and fuck me, Viggo. Please."
Viggo wasn't sure he could take anyone anywhere, let alone remain standing. Fuck him? Fuck Sean? He still had enough brain cells firing to recognize an incredible offer when he heard one. He managed to collect his wits long enough to breathe out a labored Yes, before taking Sean's hand and dragging him to the bedroom.
He thought Sean might be laughing, but it sounded more like wheezing, and the two of them stumbled over the bare wood floors and collapsed on top of the down comforter. There were a few minutes of frantic scrambling with clothes, and then flinging of garments in opposite directions.
Viggo thought it was his turn to attack, so he dove on top of Sean, pinning him to the bed. Sean growled, tugging hard on Viggo's hair, arching underneath him when Viggo latched on to one perfect pink nipple.
He sucked hard, then dragged his tongue over the tiny bud, using his body weight to hold Sean in place. The wonderful, animalistic sounds Sean was making went straight to Viggo's cock, and he could feel the wet line he was painting along Sean's leg.
When he slid down to Sean's stomach and bit hard, Sean tensed, all the muscles in his body rippling to life under Viggo's hands and mouth. Viggo kissed his way down to Sean's cock, fingers trembling as they wrapped around the hard shaft. He'd imagined this moment so many times before, too many to count. He kept his eyes open as he took Sean into his mouth, humming with pleasure as he watched Sean clutch at the sheets, his mouth open as he gasped for air.
Viggo stroked him with his hand and with his tongue, and soon Sean's hips were lifting off the sheets, pumping himself into Viggo's mouth. His moans grew louder, until finally he fell back onto the bed, pulling at Viggo's hair. "Now," he panted. "Fuck me, for fuck's sake."
Viggo released him and slid farther down the bed. "I will," he said, grabbing Sean's thighs and pushing them up. He felt himself surge towards his own orgasm when he watched Sean hook his arms around his own legs, crushing them against his chest. Viggo enjoyed the incredible view for a moment before dragging his tongue over Sean's balls.
Sean groaned and lifted his hips, making it easier for Viggo to lick all the way down to his entrance. Viggo pressed his lips to the tiny puckered opening, slowly working his tongue in and out until he thought Sean would thrash himself right off of the bed.
He reluctantly dragged himself away, stretching to reach the bedside table. It didn't take long to get what he needed, and soon he was leaning over Sean again, taking in the euphoric glow of Sean's eyes as he slid two slick fingers inside him. Sean clutched at his body, hanging on as he started bucking his hips again, fucking himself on Viggo's hand.
Viggo was dripping all over Sean's stomach, and he knew he had to get inside soon or it'd be over before it even started. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice strained and urgent.
"Fuck yeah," Sean answered, his voice barely audible. Viggo was still stroking him from within, stretching him, and he had to bite his lip in concentration as he struggled to roll a condom over Viggo's cock.
They both cried out when Viggo finally pushed inside, and Viggo was seeing stars again. Sean was wickedly, blissfully tight, and he had an idle fantasy that maybe he was the first man to take him. He didn't care if it was true, all that mattered was that for the moment, Sean was his.
"You're mine," he heard himself muttering. He slowly started to piston in and out, staring down at Sean, whispering mine, mine... over and over. Sean was so beautiful it was almost unreal. Seeing him this way, spread open, offering himself up, it was better than any dream he'd ever had. And then Sean's long, graceful fingers reached down to touch his own cock.
It was a sensual display, Sean's lovely hand gently caressing the rigid flesh, his balls tightening in response. Viggo watched, enraptured, as Sean's fingertips kept moving. They dipped and swirled over sensitive skin, slowly moving downward until he was touching his own entrance, touching Viggo. Viggo shuddered, his cock pushing forward hard.
Sean moaned, curving his body, allowing Viggo to go even deeper. The new angle made Sean's eyes roll up, and he started cursing, a slur of words that dissolved into gibberish. His hand curled tightly around his cock, and then he was coming, painting white streaks across his chest and belly.
Viggo stopped breathing. For a moment everything stopped, the room swam before his eyes, and then like a lightning bolt, his orgasm tore through him. He let out a long, low wail, and then he was vibrating against Sean, emptying himself inside.
His hands trembled against Sean's thighs, though he thought maybe Sean was trembling, too. They stared at each other for what seemed like forever, breathing heavily through their mouths, occasionally licking their dry lips. Viggo thought he might drown in the deep green of Sean's eyes, until Sean started to move, to gently pull away.
Cursing their stiff muscles, they laughed nervously, both feeling the flush of embarrassment after exposing themselves to each other so completely. But they held on, hands pressed against hot skin, helping each other as they stumbled once more across the cold floor towards the bathroom.
~~
Ten minutes later, his tongue tingling from mouthwash, Viggo rested blissfully in the Jacuzzi tub, hot water lapping at his skin. Sean was wrapped around him, their legs rubbing together, Sean's hands gently caressing his chest. He lay his head back against Sean's shoulder and sighed, wishing they could just lie there forever, feeling comfortable and sated.
His mind turned it over and over, reliving every kiss, every touch. He'd been so down that morning, feeling sorry for himself, and now everything had changed. Everything. "It's my birthday, you know," he murmured, running his hand along Sean's thigh.
Sean laughed softly, and Viggo could feel the rumble of it against his back. "Of course it is, you daft git. Why do you think I'm here?"
And Viggo turned at that, twisting in Sean's arms so he could see his friend's face. "Why are you here?"
Sean looked back with an unflinching gaze. "Because I didn't want another year of your life to go by without me in it."
Viggo took a deep breath, trying to get his mind to process it all. "But when? When did this happen?"
"Right after I met you, actually."
"But you--" Viggo stared at him in shock. "You never said anything, never--"
"I was going through a divorce and you were with Orlando." Sean smiled, then, his eyes twinkling. "I didn't want to confuse you." When Viggo pinched his thigh, he howled, then captured Viggo's hands with his own. "You were happy. What would it say about me if I tried to fuck that up?"
It was difficult for Viggo to argue with that logic, since it was the same as his own. "I've wanted you a long time," he sighed.
"Well now I'm here." Sean reached up, water dripping from his fingers as he gently caressed Viggo's cheek. "I'm not perfect, though. I was hoping you'd be able to overlook that."
Viggo knew what Sean meant. "Nobody's perfect."
Sean smiled. "Exactly. So...you fall off the wagon with Orlando, it's okay with me."
"You just want to watch," Viggo snorted.
"I'm a bisexual actor. That's pretty much the definition of a whore, isn't it?"
Viggo grinned. "I guess dating a whore has its advantages."
"It does at that." Sean nodded towards the bedroom. "You weren't complaining in there."
"No, no I wasn't." Viggo curled up against Sean, resting his cheek against his shoulder. His hand wrapped around Sean's gradually hardening cock. "So--what exactly are you offering?"
Sean looked down suggestively. "Everything you can put your hands on--or in." Then his eyes softened, and he took Viggo's hand and pressed it to his chest, over his heart. "And this. All of it."
Viggo stared in silence for a minute, feeling Sean's heartbeat thumping steadily under his fingers. He tried to find words, the right way to answer, but in the end all he could do was grin like an idiot, his own heart hammering inside his chest.
Sean wrapped his arms around Viggo, holding him close, purring with happiness as their bodies rubbed together. "Happy birthday, love," Sean murmured, and then they were kissing, everywhere they could put their lips on.
Summary: Viggo gets a surprise visit from a friend on his birthday. And then some more surprises.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 4430 Read: 849
Published: 16 Aug 2009 Updated: 16 Aug 2009