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Summary: Even in the middle of so much energy and joy, Sean felt alone.

Rated: G

Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo

Warnings: None

Challenges:

Series: None

Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes

Word count: 858 Read: 1423

Published: 02 Sep 2009 Updated: 02 Sep 2009

It wasn't turning out to be a bad decision, per se, not with nothing but lawyers and not-so-veiled personal attacks waiting for him at home. After all, the cast and crew seemed friendly, the project meaty, and the country beautiful, at least what he'd seen of it so far. It was everything he could've hoped for and more.

Yet Sean couldn't shake the persistent sense that he'd been set adrift and was floating progressively further from shore, away from the people he loved, the things that brought him joy. He hadn't been able to find much connection with the younger members of the cast, good kids all, but still kids, still with the energy and focus of wriggling puppies, and try as he might, Sean couldn't quite keep up with them, not without falling behind and feeling older than he had any right to be. It didn't help that the gulf was wide on either side; Ian and Chris were icons, down to earth and ethereal all at once, seemingly within reach, but Sean's own experiences were a generation too late to really allow him to connect.

So here he was, at another get together, another after-hours attempt to get cast and crew to bond, ever more important now that Stuart had fallen out with them all, left Elijah in tears -- the poor bloke -- and stormed off to God knows where. Secretly, Sean agreed with Pete's assessment, never quite believing Stuart could hold the weight of years and history, but this new one, this Viggo Something-or-Other seemed just as bad. He'd taken to the Hobbits like a duck to water, and for all his apparent age, he seemed to be perpetually stuck at seventeen.

Sean sighed, his shoulders slumping as he stared out at the sea, waves rolling in, then out again, scouring the shore. He could still hear laughter and shouting from down the beach, and if he inhaled deeply, he could smell the smoke and charcoal of their barbeque, and underneath both, the scent of rapidly charring meat. Stooping, he scooped up a large, flat rock, weighing it in his hand even as he turned and resumed his drifting, wandering way further down the shore. He wondered idly how far the tether went, how far away he'd get from the laughter and light of his coworkers before it'd draw tight and reel him back in, no choice but to return.

Reaching the base of a rocky outcrop, Sean closed his eyes, breathing deeply, the rock cool and smooth in his hand, the susurration of the water blotting out all but his thoughts. His whole life seemed to have narrowed down to a series of unsolvable contradictions, expanding even as it contracted: as small as a world, and as large as alone. He let that roll over him, the sweep and drag of obligation, expectation, hope, joy and disappointment rushing over him, carrying him away even as it pulled him down.

He stood there, bathed in his own silence, until the quiet scratch of pebbling sand let him know he was no longer alone.

"Hi."

Sean opened his eyes, blinking as the fading sunlight rushed back in, turning his head to find that Viggo fellow standing close beside, hands jammed in the fraying pockets of his blue jeans, rocking back and forth on the balls of his bare feet, expertly balancing himself between intimate space and respectful distance, all traces of his normal frenetic energy gone. He smiled at Sean, nodded at the hand that held the rock, that turned it in Sean's fingers, thumb rubbing against each flat expanse of nothing. "Any chance you're planning to skip that?"

Sean watched, mesmerized, as the man's tongue flickered out over his bottom lip, sweeping upward before disappearing behind white teeth exposed in a grin. He blinked, nodded, stepped to the side and let the rock fly in a perfect arc, watching as it tripped once, twice, three times over the water before sinking below the waves.

Viggo let out a long, low whistle. "Not bad. Not bad at all." He stepped closer to Sean, leaning over, his hip brushing against Sean's own as he picked out two round, smooth stones from the ones at Sean's feet. Straightening, he pressed one against Sean's palm, his grin widening as Sean's fingers curled around it, feeling its shape, size and weight, surprised at its sudden warmth. "It's never as much fun skipping rocks alone, is it?"

Sean smiled a bit shyly and shook his head. "No. No, it isn't." Something loosened in his chest as he eyed the stone in his fingers, mentally measuring distance and trajectory before skimming it through the air. A second rock, released from Viggo's hand, followed close behind, outskipping Sean's by two glancing impacts before it too disappeared.

It was simple work to pick up two more rocks and offer one to Viggo, to let himself enjoy the lingering touch before the childlike thrill of sea, salt and stone. The world was too small when one was alone, the gulf too great, but, Sean mused, maybe a smooth, round stone could bridge the distance.