A hand reached out from underneath the bland beige hotel blanket and slapped at the snooze button on the alarm clock. The annoying buzz ceased instantly, but Viggo knew it would be there again in nine short minutes. He rolled over onto his back and covered his eyes with his forearm, nose resting in the crook of his elbow. For someone who finds it so fucking hard to go to sleep it should be easier to wake up, Viggo sighed and let his thoughts focus on the day ahead, another fucking birthday...
He grimaced at the realisation he was about to face yet another birthday on set, too many birthdays away from home ... maybe I should have had it written into my contract that I won't work on my birthday instead of Halloween. But he knew he had made the right choice; a smile settled on his lips at a memory of a very young Henry all dressed up in his skeleton costume. They were in Walmart and he was trying to convince his dad that he really had to buy him two masks in case he changed his mind later.
Henry spends Halloween with his friends now.
With a long groan, Viggo lifted his arm and stretched, his hands pressed against the headboard and his back arched until he felt his spine aligning. He exhaled another sigh, but denied himself the pleasure of relaxing back into the mattress. Instead, he propped up on one elbow and reached over to the nightstand to flick the alarm off, grabbed the bottle of water and took a long drink. His throat was rough; he knew he smoked far too much ... of course the thought instantly sparked the urge to reach for his cigarettes, but he stifled it and swallowed another mouthful of water.
A final drink and he hauled himself up until he could swing his legs around to sit on the edge of the bed. Viggo caught sight of the dishevelled man in the mirror and shook his head; all the fan mail would stop if they could see this in the morning. He rubbed his palm over the back of his neck and rolled his head to either side hearing the satisfying clicks.
Can't deny the bladder any longer. He huffed, stood up and wandered through to the bathroom, but no sooner did his hand touch the doorknob than the telephone rang. With a groan at the sudden intrusion, Viggo quickly walked back and picked up the receiver with a rough, "What?"
"Hey, Happy Birthday dad!" the voice on the other end of the line exclaimed ignoring the initial gruffness of Viggo's tone.
Henry, a warm buzz hit him when he heard his son's voice, fuck ... he sounds so grown up on the phone.
"I wanted to come up and visit, but mom said I couldn't," Henry continued, not giving his father a chance to speak, "said I'd miss too much school."
Viggo chuckled, "Yeah, she's right ... but it was a good try." He fiddled absently with the gap in the net curtains watching the sky lighten until he realised he was still naked. "Shit... " he muttered under his breath and quickly stepped back behind the curtain.
"What's up?" Henry asked rolling his eyes at his dad.
"Nah it's nothing, just your old man flashing the masses." Viggo muttered imagining the word 'goofball' bouncing around Henry's head.
Henry simply laughed and said, "Same as usual huh?"
Viggo was about to reply, but heard a female voice in the background; he couldn't hear what she was saying, but knew it was Exene. When the voice stopped Henry said, "Mom says happy birthday you old fart."
Viggo laughed, "She's lucky I'm a gentleman or I could remind her she's older than me."
Henry repeated this to his mother and then told Viggo her response, "She says since when are you a gentleman? Anyway dad, I've got you something. I'll give it to you when you get home ... I'd better go ... she is pointing at the clock now."
Viggo nodded and then realising Henry couldn't actually see him, told Henry he loved him and rang off. Viggo looked at the phone sitting silent in its cradle; he missed his son. Turning away from the phone, Viggo walked back to the bathroom and looked at the mirror ... Happy Birthday man. ~*~
Viggo hadn't told anyone it was his birthday; he didn't know these people well enough yet. They were nice enough, good to work with, but not the sort he was ready to share cake with. So when the break came in the morning's shooting schedule he avoided the general chat at the catering truck and headed off on his own. It was one of those mornings where the sun was just warm enough to get into your bones, but not hot enough to sting on your skin.
Grabbing a newspaper Viggo slid down against a brick wall with every intention of losing himself in the latest crisis or editorial. Today, however, his eyes wouldn't focus on the print and his mind refused to stick to the topic. After several minutes of trying, Viggo gave up, leaned his head against the rough bricks and closed his eyes. Images flitted through his mind not quite taking hold until one settled ... Viggo remembered another birthday, with another cast and crew ...
The catering tent had been full of other worldly creatures; some covered in hideous latex and others too beautiful to exist. Viggo was still Aragorn when he walked through the temporary door; he was dirty and tired and feeling more than a little miserable. Orlando bounded over, not at all the elegant elf he looked, grabbed his hand and dragged him to one of the lunch tables. Viggo was definitely not in the mood for this as Orlando babbled, "Come on man, sit here." But he knew Orlando always meant well and allowed himself to be manhandled into one of the plastic chairs. Strong hands rested on both his shoulders, squeezed and gave him a shake.
Suddenly he was surrounded by Hobbits bearing cake ... All heads in the tent turned his way as Billy and Dom launched into a rather rude rendition of happy birthday with lots of references to Aragorn and his sword. Viggo's mood lightened and he gave himself a mental kick for indulging in a nice little bout of self-pity. The warm hands left his shoulders and Sean sat at his side.
Fuck, he missed Sean.
Cast and crew erupted into cheers as he took a theatrical breath and blew out the candles. A large carving knife was placed in his and amid more lewd jokes about 'weaponry' Viggo started to cut the cake and dish it onto the proffered plastic plates. Chocolate cake evenly distributed Viggo looked at the mess he had made of his hands and laughed. Whipped cream and chocolate shavings covered both his fingers and the worn leather of his fingerless gloves. He made an unsuccessful attempt to swipe his fingers across Orlando's face and laughed when Orlando flicked his tongue at the messy hand.
Sean lunged out and wrapped his fingers tightly around Viggo's wrist; Orlando looked slightly startled by both his actions and the growled command, "Back off elf; it is a Steward's job to 'see to' his future king." Orlando smiled a little unsurely, held his hands up in defeat and retreated to his own chair.
The grip around Viggo's wrist tightened as Sean turned to face him. Heat pooled deep in Viggo's belly when he met Sean's eyes. With a wicked grin Sean leaned forward, ignoring all the eyes on them, and ran the flat of his tongue the full length of Viggo's index finger. Viggo instantly felt his cock lengthen and begin to swell as he watched Sean's tongue lick slowly over the soft leather covering his palm. The air completely left the room when Sean unashamedly sucked the wet fingertips into his mouth and Viggo felt a hand under the table gently squeezing his thigh.
"Viggo"
The voice wasn't Sean's, Viggo opened his eyes and saw the 'runner' standing over him; he smiled apologetically and nodded when the girl said in a sheepish voice, "Um... you are wanted back on set."
Viggo sighed, hauled himself to his feet and walked back to his mark.
~*~
Filming finished around seven. Viggo politely turned down dinner invitations and headed to his car alone.
The car park gradually emptied while he sat in the driver's seat, elbow propped out the open window and smoked a cigarette. The key was in the ignition, but sat idle. Viggo hadn't wanted to spend the night at some restaurant passing time with acquaintances, but the thought of walking into the anonymous hotel room ... Ah fuck it! He smashed the burnt down butt into the ashtray and started the car.
Understanding that the hotel minibar wouldn't make the grade tonight, Viggo stopped at an off licence near the film set and bought a bottle of whisky. He had already decided that he wanted to get well and truly smashed tonight by the time the brown paper bag containing the bottle was thrown carelessly on the empty passenger seat.
Head down, Viggo walked through the lobby and stepped into the elevator. Always full of mirrors, Viggo mused catching himself in the smoky surface, they force your eyes down when the elevator's full or remind you how shit you look after stepping off a plane.
He sighed, pulled the key card out of his wallet and opened his door; neatly made bed, perfect temperature, tidy room, and mass-produced artwork ... not home. The small orange light on the phone blinked to let him know there was a message; he twisted the cap off the bottle, threw the bag on the nearest surface and swallowed a mouthful before keying his code into the phone.
There were several messages from family and friends all wishing him a happy birthday. He grinned at an aborted attempt by his mom that was followed by a more successful message ... Viggo knew how she felt; he still got Henry to show him how to use features on the cell phone. The torrent of good-natured abuse he received from Dom and Billy made him laugh and shake his head; followed by what could only be described as a molested rendering of 'Happy Birthday' by Elijah. The messages ended ...
He picked up the little pile of mail placed on the desk and flicked through the envelopes. He instantly recognised Orlando's handwriting; inside was a card with a photo of them back at Helm's Deep, wet, filthy and laughing. Viggo propped the photo up on the desk and sat on the edge of the bed. He gulped another mouthful feeling very far from home and lonely. What the fuck is the problem? Viggo groaned lying back on the bed bottle still in hand, Getting morose in your old age? But he knew what the problem was; he missed these people. He knew what happened in New Zealand stayed in New Zealand, but he missed Sean.
He closed his eyes, the mouth of the whisky bottle resting close enough that the smell of the alcohol masked the room deodoriser. A wicked smile graced his lips at the thought of how hard he had been sitting in that catering tent; Sean's wicked eyes never left his face knowing everyone else was watching. Sean had released his hand and burst into a laugh of pure bravado looking at the stunned faces around them. The others erupted into cheers and catcalls while Sean made light of the act. Only Viggo knew the other hand hadn't left his thigh.
After the chocolate cake had been devoured and the others were making their way back to their trailers, Sean had Viggo pinned against the broad trunk of a tree. He pressed full-bodied, his thigh forcing its way between Viggo's legs and asked with an amused snarl, "So what does my future King want for his birthday?"
Viggo's breathing was already coming in shallow puffs. He pushed hard against Sean and rasped, "Anything ... everything ... "
"Greedy." Sean commented sliding his thigh purposefully against Viggo's crotch.
"It's my birthday." Viggo moaned parting his legs to feel more of Sean.
Sean chuckled and stepped back; he grinned lasciviously almost daring Viggo to ask. Both men were breathing heavily as they held each other's gaze, neither moved until Viggo narrowed his eyes and commanded, "Do it Sean." A hand cupped his erection and pressed firmly making Viggo grunt and push forward into Sean's palm. The pressure on his cock eased slightly as strong fingers pulled at the laces of the leggings. "Oh shite ... why couldn't they put fucking zips on these things?" Sean cursed at the knot eluding his ministrations.
The pissed off tone in Sean's voice made Viggo laugh at look down, "Here let me." He brushed the fingers aside and quickly unknotted the thin strip of leather, "Now get on with it Steward."
Sean raised an eyebrow and grinned as he sank to his knees between Viggo's legs, "Anything you say my Lord and Master."
The giggle forming in Viggo's throat quickly vanished when Sean pulled his weeping cock from his leggings and gave it the same greeting as his creamy fingers barely ten minutes earlier.
"Oh fuck ... " Viggo moaned, his head tipping back against the tree, the rough bark catching the hairs of his wig.
Sean looked up at his friend and groaned, "So fucking beautiful." Viggo's hand clutched and tugged at his hair reminding him of his 'birthday duty'. Sean lowered his mouth and the heat of his lips descended over the silk of Viggo's cock.
The bottle touched Viggo's lips again as his own hand slid inside his now open fly. He swallowed yet another mouthful of the liquid despite its now sour taste; his head swam and he felt the vague dislocation of the alcohol. "Oh God Sean," Viggo murmured remembering a touch other than his own.
A sudden knock on the door stilled his hand. Viggo lay on the bed the blood pounding in his ears trying to calm his breathing. Ignore it; they'll leave.
Another knock, louder and more insistent ... then a very familiar voice that made Viggo's lips curl into a grin, "I know you're in there ... open the door you daft bugger, your Steward awaits. "
Summary: Some musings and memories on a birthday away from home and loved ones.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 2423 Read: 779
Published: 17 Aug 2009 Updated: 17 Aug 2009