I hear that you're building your little house deep in the desert
You're living for nothing now, I hope you're keeping some kind of record.
Famous Blue Raincoat -- Leonard Cohen
"Why do you need gutters at all?" Sean asked, looking at the stark beauty of the red rock formations that were easily visible from the deck of Viggo's new house in the New Mexico desert.
"It actually rains here," Viggo explained a little sheepishly. "On occasion."
"If you say so," Sean replied. "I like them," he added, running a hand over the smooth copper links of the rain chain that hung from the corner of the house to the point here it was anchored in the ground. "They're really well made. In a couple of years they should be nice and green."
"I hadn't thought about that, but yeah," Viggo said. Sean watched as Viggo stepped back and looked at the house, which was all stark grey angles -- not at all the kind of house Sean had imagined when Viggo had called and told him he'd built a house in the desert. "I like the way they look, as if they're keeping the house anchored to the ground. As if, without them, the whole thing would float off like a giant hot air balloon."
"It's your house," Sean said with a fond smile. "It might just do that."
"For a while, I'd have liked that idea," Viggo said, his voice a barely audible mumble. "But lately I think I'm ready to stay here on Earth."
It was the first time Viggo had talked about his break with Orlando in even the vaguest terms, and Sean couldn't help feeling a little tug of relief in his chest.
"I think we all left our Earth for Middle Earth," he finally said, his eyes once more fixed on the dry, red landscape, so unlike that of New Zealand. "I don't think any of us realized how hard it would be to come back home. I certainly didn't, and I wasn't even away as long as you were."
Not to mention that I didn't try to bring something that worked in Middle Earth back to the real world.
"And for you, home had changed," Viggo murmured.
"Yeah, but that was happening anyway," Sean said with a slight shrug.
"I wish you wouldn't do that," Viggo said. "Shrug when you talk about it. It belittles the experience."
Sean had heard that more than once from Viggo, but now he was seized with a certain degree of irritation. "You're calling the kettle black," he said. "You belittle your own experience by not talking about it at all."
"'For me the grief is yet too near,'" Viggo murmured in a surprisingly good imitation of Orlando's Legolas. Although he tried to keep his expression even, Sean's feelings must have shown in his face, for Viggo laughed a little. "It surprises you, me quoting him?"
"I think it's a little odd, yeah," Sean said. "But if I called you on every slightly odd thing you do or say, we'd never have a real conversation."
Viggo looked at Sean for a long moment before replying. "There are," he said, "very few people with whom I can have real conversations." He glanced at the sky. "Let me get dinner; I don't want us to have to do anything while the sun is going down."
From anyone else, Viggo's statement would have been either ambiguous or a warning to stay off dangerous topics. But I know he includes me in that number, and I know he'll talk to me when he's ready.
Much later than night, it did rain, complete with thunder and lightning. The noise woke Sean out of a light, jet-lagged doze, and he saw Viggo framed in the door way of the guest bedroom, his hair rumpled so that he looked oddly young.
"Sometimes," Viggo said, as if they were still having the conversation of the afternoon, "I think that I might be like the house and float off like a hot air balloon."
It was in Sean's mind to offer to be Viggo's rain chain, but he dismissed it as being too obvious a thing to say. Instead he just moved over in the bed and lifted the covers.
Orlando, Sean thought as Viggo slid into bed with him, would have said that.
Summary: Viggo's built a house in the desert.
Rated: PG-13
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 727 Read: 698
Published: 16 Aug 2009 Updated: 16 Aug 2009