"The best thing was just travelling through from the North Island to the South Island. We did it a second time, Viggo and I, and that time we got through. It was just wonderful having the opportunity to drive through this ancient forest land and mountains, to see shorelines, to stop in little villages and to spend the night there and to carry on the next day. It was a really magical time for me."
~Sean on Viggo Mortensen~
Clutching the phone to his chest like a comfort blanket, Sean wandered mechanically out into his conservatory and dropped heavily into a wicker chair. He stared out through the open French doors, for once not seeing his garden, his usual and trusted source of peace and calm, balm for his soul.
“Come on, Sean,” Viggo had said. ”Be a little adventurous. You’ve been working non-stop and you’re recovering from another failed marriage. You must be due a little R & R. Come back to The South Island with me. You loved that trip. You said it was magical, remember?”
*Oh aye, I remember.*
What he’d actually said was,”Well, I don’t know, Viggo. I’ve a lot of offers on hand. It doesn’t do to turn down work at my time of life and anyway, working stops me thinking too much.”
Viggo had continued rambling on, typically ignoring his protests, until he’d worn him down and Sean had found himself agreeing to call his agent and get things put on hold for a few weeks. He’d somehow agreed to meet Viggo in Wellington and hire a car to repeat the road trip of ten years ago, without really knowing how it had happened.
*How does the bastard manage to do it? Even when you know you’re being played like a fish, you fall for it every time. People agree just to shut him up.*
One thing he had made clear, once Viggo had paused for breath and he’d managed to get a word in edgeways, was that they would be having separate rooms on this trip. Ten years ago, they’d been at the beginning of a wonderful love affair and that had been part of the magic. What had happened in New Zealand had stayed in New Zealand, though and over those long years, although they had remained friends, they’d met only a handful of times.
It was true that each time his heart had lurched and his insides had turned to mush, but there had never been an opportunity to pick up where they’d left off and in any case those rare meetings reflected the reason they’d agreed to end it in the first place. They were both busy actors and were seldom on the same continent, let alone in the same place. Yes, it had been the right decision, no doubt about that.
The last time they’d met at the Empire Awards in London, they’d been delighted to see each other and had a good laugh, well lubricated by Jameson’s, but he’d had Gina with him and although they’d smoked outside together, hugged a bit and reminisced, that was as far as it had gone. Viggo’s call had really been unexpected, though he’d sent a sweet note, when the separation had been announced.
Sean,
So sorry to hear the news and even sorrier that I can’t be around to share a drink and cheer you up.
I always thought you didn’t belong alone. You were made to be part of a couple.
You are like one half of those heart necklaces that break into two parts. I hope that one day you’ll find the right piece to make you whole.
Forever,
Viggo
Well he’d had no argument about the separate rooms. Viggo had agreed immediately, “Sure, Sean, whatever you want. This trip is for you.” So they would be two mates driving from Wellington down through Christchurch and enjoying the scenery. He sighed, hoping he wasn’t making a big mistake.
*They say you should never go back. *
Well they would find out soon if that was true.
On a particularly fine morning, two weeks later, Viggo stood back, camera in hand and admired the view. Sean was leaning over the rail of the Arahura, as she rounded Pencarrow head and made for the Cook Strait. Could it really be ten years since they’d made this trip together? Their exploration of the South Island, coinciding with their exploration of each other, had begun with this voyage, which had been described as ‘one of the most beautiful ferry rides in the world’. He wouldn’t argue with that.
He watched the graceful curve of Sean’s back, the strong, competent hands gripping the rail, the firm, resolute profile and the way the sea breeze ruffled the longish hair at the nape of his neck and wondered, not for the first time, how he’d managed to let this slip away.
Decisions that had been made back then had seemed pragmatic and sensible and they would always remain friends, right? But pragmatic and sensible didn’t take into consideration the working of the human heart and friendship, although highly valued, was a poor consolation for the passion they had shared. He knew that he could have made more effort to see Sean over those ten years, but he’d taken the cowardly way out and avoided meetings that would hurt.
The plain truth was that he was not sure how Sean felt and whether there was even a glimmer of a spark left, which he could fan back into a flame. Since he’d turned fifty, he’d been taking stock and paying attention to family and friends he’d somewhat neglected. Sean had really never been far from his thoughts and he’d come to the conclusion that he had to know, had to give it one final shot before they really were too old, so he’d asked Sean to come with him on this journey.
That Sean had agreed was at once a source of enormous pleasure and huge anxiety. He’d been reluctant at first and really had to be coaxed and then he’d insisted on separate rooms, which wasn’t a promising sign. *But he did agree and he’s here now looking wonderful, so I have enough to work on.*
“Sean, do you want to eat in the food court, before we get to the Marlborough Sounds?” They had both loved those skirts of velvety green mountains, swooping down to dip their toes in the turquoise water and last time, had eaten early so that they could be on the observation deck for the last part of the journey, through the sounds and Tory Channel, which had made Sean snort at the political implications of the name.
“Well I thought we’d wait until we got to Picton this time and maybe grab a sandwich to eat overlooking the harbour. I’m not hungry yet.”
“Okay. Whatever you want, Sean.”
They had sat outside a small café in the picturesque little town and watched the world go by, before getting back into the hire car and heading for Kaikoura, the next stop in their journey, but this time, to Viggo’s surprise, Sean had requested they make a detour to the aviation museum at Blenheim.
“Last time, as I recall, you pointed out that aviation was hardly your favourite pastime and declined a visit.”
“Well I’ve since found out that they have a remarkable collection of Red Baron memorabilia. Anyway, that was then and this is now.”
So they’d gone to the aviation museum and spent a couple of hours there, although Sean had shuddered at the suggestion that you could go whale watching in a small light aircraft.
They had gone on to Kaikoura and at Viggo’s suggestion, had visited the seals basking on the rocks, as they had done all those years ago. They had bought crayfish to eat on the beach in the evening, after checking in at the same small hotel.
As they had approached the hotel, where they would spend the first night, Sean had felt the first fluttering of nerves. He had enjoyed this day, quickly relaxing into an easy companionship again with Viggo, reminiscing about the last time they’d done this, engaging in light banter and just generally feeling happy. Now the time had come to put his foot down and stick to his resolution about separate rooms. He didn’t know what had prompted Viggo to suggest this trip and what his feelings were, but if he intended on trying to pick up the old physical relationship, Sean would nip that in the bud. He couldn’t bear the thought of them casually fucking their way down the South island and then saying farewell and going back to the way it had been for the past ten years.
His resolution wavered a little, as he looked at Viggo’s angular profile and watched his hands on the wheel, remembering. Viggo turned and grinned at him, “What?”
“Nothing. Just thinking.”
Viggo had taken matters out of his hands, by marching into the hotel and checking them into adjoining rooms. As he was handed his key, he felt a mixture of relief and disappointment. Viggo had agreed easily to the arrangement and hadn’t tried to change it, so maybe he really had just wanted to spend time together as friends and Sean had worried for nothing.
His uncertainty must have shown in his face, *so much for being an actor*, because as they’d climbed the stairs to their rooms Viggo had said,
“What’s up, Sean? Having second thoughts about the expense of two rooms? I must admit that you being a Yorkshireman and careful with your ‘brass’, I was surprised at your insistence, but you were adamant.”
He’d searched in vain for a witty riposte, but Viggo had deftly used his key and entered his room with such speed that Sean was left facing a firmly closed door with Viggo on the wrong side. He sighed and went to his own room.
Later, on the beach, Viggo had lit a driftwood fire and they’d sat, wiggling bare toes in the cooling sand and enjoying the succulent local crayfish, which they were pulling apart and eating with their hands.
“Did you know that the Maori name Kaikoura translates as ‘to eat crayfish?’?”
“I did, Viggo. You told me that last time and anyway, I’d read it in the guide book.”
There was something primitive, basic and uncomplicated about sitting on the ground like this, sniffing the wood smoke on the salty air, watching the dancing flames illuminate the sharps and hollows in Viggo’s face, with the soothing murmur of the ocean a stone’s throw away. They opened a bottle of Jameson’s and passed it back and forth, comfortable in silence and with even Viggo not feeling the need to interrupt it.
When the fire had died down to glowing ash, they had stood and brushed sand from their jeans, walking, shoes in hand back along the water’s edge. When they had needed to climb up the dune ridge onto the road, Sean had stumbled and Viggo had caught his arm to stop him falling.
“Oops, thanks, mate. It’s a good thing you were there to catch me.”
“I’m always there to catch you, Sean.” Viggo’s eyes shone in the moonlight, as deep and changeable as the sea and their faces were so close that Sean could have leaned in and kissed him, as easily as breathing, but he pulled back and finished scrambling onto the road. He put on his shoes and turned briskly to Viggo,
“So, we’ll sleep well tonight and tomorrow it’s whale watching again.”
Viggo had his head down as he worked his feet into his shoes, but when he looked up at Sean, his eyes were very bright, “Sure, Sean. Whale watching by boat, just for you.” They went back to the hotel and into their rooms in silence. Sean had been wrong, though. He hadn’t slept well at all.
Viggo had lain in his narrow bed, turned toward the thin, partition wall, which was all that separated him from Sean. *All except the emotional gulf between us.*
He had hoped that retracing their steps on this journey and the memories it would evoke could be the bridge that would enable them to find each other again. It had been a wonderful evening on the beach and for a moment there, when Sean had almost fallen, he’d thought… Well, what he’d thought hadn’t happened and the moment had been lost.
He caressed the wall, just where he imagined Sean’s ass would be, knowing the room was a mirror-image of his own and remembering the last time they’d stayed here. They’d had single beds in a shared room that time too and had giggled like teenage students, squeezing together in his, because Sean thought it would be too noisy to pull the beds together. Their love making had been spontaneous, imaginative, had involved much muffled laughter and creaking of the poor, tormented bed and had ended with Viggo being shoved out onto the floor. As he’d pointed out to Sean, it would have been infinitely quieter to move the fucking furniture. ”Not half as much fun, though, “Sean had said, a wicked smile curving his lips and crinkling the corners of his eyes.
After an early breakfast, during which Viggo couldn’t help but notice that Sean looked a little puffy around the eyes and not particularly well-rested, they went down to board the whale watching boat. He’d asked if Sean had slept well and of course, he’d said “Yes, and you?” “Eventually”, Viggo had replied and they’d left it at that.
The trip had been terrific again and Viggo had spent the next couple of hours entranced by the pods of Dusky Dolphins, the fur seals rolling and diving, the wheeling albatrosses and finally, the great black flukes of a diving Sperm Whale’s tail, silhouetted against the blue like the wings of a huge bird. He had taken hundreds of pictures, but in spite of it all, he’d never lost his awareness of Sean’s presence close by and appreciation of the wonders they had shared.
When they were back in the car and heading on south, Sean driving this time, he had turned to Viggo and said,
“That was an amazing experience again. I thought I’d remembered everything, but I hadn’t remembered the exhilaration, the feeling of freedom. I’m so glad we came back.”
“It was good, wasn’t it? It was pretty much as I’d remembered.” *I also remember how afterwards, we drove on down to the Waipara Valley and took a hike, sneaking an alfresco fuck in a secluded spot.*
Viggo made his voice casual,”So are we following the same route down toward Christchurch, with a detour to the Waipara Valley?”
“Why not? Only this time, I’d like to call in at Hamner Springs and try the thermal pools.”
“Hamner Springs? But isn’t that going to be a little touristy and crowded? That’s why we avoided it last time, remember?”
“Yes, but you can hire a private pool. Humour me, Viggo. Once we’ve been there, we can continue on down the West Coast, visit all those little villages by the shore and the old forests you like so much.”
“Okay. As I recall, you liked them too.”
Viggo was torn between wanting to stay off the beaten track and the prospect of sharing a thermal pool with Sean, privately, just the two of them. The fact that Sean was choosing this intrigued him, so off to Hamner Springs resort they went.
As he had feared, there were a lot of people at the Springs, which in spite of its beautiful setting resembled a water park, with children running in and out of the pools, splashing happily, but they paid for a private pool with its own shower and were handed white towelling robes and bathing trunks to change into and directed to a small room, which had a square pool with descending steps.
“So what do you think, Vig?”
“Well it’s private, though it’s a little disappointing that it’s not out in the open like the other pools, but there’s a big, panoramic window onto the garden and hey, we don’t need bathing suits.”
Sean mentally kicked his own arse for not having realized that Viggo would elect to go skinny dipping in the private pool. *Or maybe I did realize, after all the bloke strips off at every opportunity. Coincidental that he’s just played Dr Freud…The doc would have had something to say about that.*
Viggo had already happily shed robe and trunks and was entering the water. Sean was faced with a dilemma. Should he follow suit, or rather birthday suit, which would be the natural thing to do, or would that encourage Viggo to make some sort of advance? If he got in the water wearing bathing trunks, would that be a statement further than separate rooms? He felt himself blushing as he agonized.
“Come on in, Sean, the water is fine!” Viggo was lying back, elbows resting on the top step and letting his feet float in the warm water. His softly furred chest, hairs wafting gently like fine fronds of seaweed, caused stirrings in Sean, who tried not to let his gaze move beyond Viggo’s waist.
This was stupid! He and Viggo were grown up male friends and could surely share a pool without behaving like horny teenagers. He stripped off his clothes and joined Viggo in the pool, sighing with pleasure and closing his eyes as he sank into the water.
“Oh, that’s good!”
“It is. I’m glad it’s making you happy.”
The chuckle in Viggo’s voice made him open his eyes and look down at his lap, where his growing erection was bobbing about in the water, its one eye winking at him mockingly. A sideways glance showed him that Viggo was in a similar state.*Fuck*
“It’s okay, Sean. I’m not about to molest you in here. In fact I’m not about to molest you anywhere unless you want me to. It really is your call.”
Conflicted, Sean slid away along the step to the far corner, as Viggo grinned and added virtuously, ”Anyhow, it wouldn’t be hygienic.”
Sean couldn’t help laughing. “When did that ever bother you, you dirty bugger? Do you remember when you were peeing over that cliff and you thought the beach below was deserted…
“…but there were two old ladies, who got an unexpected shower.”
Viggo began to laugh too and Sean barely noticed that he had slid over to his side, as they remembered other incidences of Viggo’s less than decorous behaviour. By the time a discreet buzzer advised them that their time was almost up, Viggo’s arm was casually lying along the top step, across Sean’s shoulders and his thigh was pressing against Sean’s. Both of them were as hard as they had ever been.
“Would you consider it hygienic in the shower? I’d use plenty of soap and all the evidence would be washed away.”
Sean nodded dumbly as Viggo rose from the pool and held out a hand to help him up. He allowed himself to be walked to the shower stall, which was barely big enough for two grown men and their erections.
“Well soon make more room,” Viggo said, pressing up against Sean and clasping both cocks in his soapy hands, as the water cascaded over them. Sean felt as though the past ten years had fallen away as he closed his hands over Viggo’s and they worked together in perfect rhythm until they peaked at pretty much the same time.
The buzzer reminded them insistently that their time was now well and truly up, so they quickly dressed and went back to the car. Sean’s thoughts were fluttering around like moths and he was glad that he needed to concentrate on the winding roads through ancient forest on the way from the Springs travelling south and east, towards the coast again.
Thankfully, Viggo maintained an uncharacteristic and blessed silence until late afternoon, when they were approaching a place they’d stayed in before. Sean drove to the small, rural bed & breakfast lodge near Waipara and this time, he went up to the desk determinedly and booked a twin room. The place had been renovated since their last visit, so it wasn’t the exact room they’d had before, which pleased him, but the owners were the same and greeted them warmly.
They ate a quiet dinner in the dining room, enjoying delicious home cooking and took a stroll to walk it off before turning in.
The smoke from Sean’s cigarette rose like ectoplasm in the still night air punctuated only by the rustling of their feet in the long grass and the occasional soft hoot of a hunting owl. Viggo felt that he had at least raised the ghost of their affair and he had been encouraged by the fact that Sean had chosen this particular lodge and had rented a twin room. He decided to broach the subject, drawing deeply on his own cigarette first,
“So, I knew you wouldn’t be able to bear the idea of paying unnecessarily for two rooms and I was right.”
Sean turned his head and looked at Viggo for a while before he spoke,
“I can well afford to pay for my own room, thank you. It was just that after today in the pool and after, it seemed a bit silly.”
Viggo let three full beats pass before he responded,
“So what exactly are you saying, Sean?”
“I don’t rightly know, to be honest. They say it’s always a mistake to go back – always a disappointment.”
“And are you disappointed?”
“No, certainly not. Not yet at any rate.”
They turned and headed back, but just before the perimeter fence, Viggo, not concentrating at all on where he was putting his feet, got his toe in a rabbit hole and pitched forward. Sean, his reflexes always fast and undiminished by age, shot out a hand and grabbed his elbow. This time, as Viggo straightened up and opened his mouth to thank him, Sean took advantage and dived in, kissing him comprehensively.
Approaching voices from the direction of the lodge caused them to break apart and continue walking, bidding goodnight to another pair of guests as they passed. In their spacious room, Viggo sat on one of the double beds and looked across at Sean, sitting on the other. *I wish you’d tell me your thoughts and where this is going.*
“Please,” he ventured, “please talk to me, Sean. I need to know how you feel about us and whether we are on the same page here. I’m getting some conflicting signals. First I have to practically drag you on the trip and you make it clear we’ll be in separate rooms, then you share that shower with me and now you check us into one room and you just kissed me.”
“It’s complicated and you know how bad I am at trying to talk about this stuff. Can’t you just come over here?”
Viggo shook his head, “No. I’d love nothing better than to pounce on you. I’ve really, really missed you, Sean, but it’s not like you made any effort even to meet regularly for the past ten years, or showed in any way that you maybe wanted to be together. Christ, you not only kept on dating, but you even married again.”
“Well nor did you. All the things we said, well, mostly it was you talking as usual, but all those practical reasons why we should end things made sense then and I thought that you were happy with what we agreed. So, if I couldn’t have you, I threw myself into other relationships.”
“I don’t think I’ve been really happy since we finished and I tried briefly too, but not for many years. I’ve been immersing myself in work and living like a monk. Don’t flare those nostrils at me. It’s true!”
Sean got up and advanced across the room with a purposeful air.
“So if you’re not coming over here, I need to come over there.”
“Just stop right there. I’ve been reviewing my life over the past couple of years. I found I had only one regret and I wanted to try and put it right, while there was still time. That’s why I asked you on this trip. I thought that if we could re-create that ‘magical time’ maybe you’d want it all again.”
Sean kept walking until he stood toe to toe with Viggo, looking down at him.
While Viggo had been talking, Sean had not been able to take his eyes off him. His hair, cut for the last two filming jobs, was shorter than he liked, but at least it showed the amazing contours of his face. He wanted to hold that face in both hands, lick that scar on his top lip and nibble the full bottom lip. True, he’d been worried in case Viggo just wanted a fling for old-times sake and he’d been so determined to keep things on a purely friendly footing, out of self-preservation, but it seemed that he just wasn’t able to help himself around the bloke anyway.
Now if he was understanding this right, Viggo was telling him that he wanted more than that, had wanted it for years, just as he had, and yet Sean still had a superstitious fear of trying to recreate the past.
“Do you really want me to go back to my side?”
“No.”
Sean bent and cupped Viggo’s face, rubbing his thumbs over the prominent cheekbones and bumping foreheads gently with him. Things quickly progressed to kissing and nuzzling, to clothes being discarded and limbs becoming tangled.
“Fuck, Vig, we’ve no supplies.”
“Well actually, we have. They are in the inside pocket of my rucksack.”
“But we agreed on separate rooms.”
“Well sure, but there is always hope.”
“It’s my turn, so I’ll get them.”
“Wait, the last time we were together, it was you.”
Sean’s voice was muffled, from having his head in a rucksack, “Yes, but last time we were here, it was you, so that makes it my turn. Any road, we have to break the link.”
He returned to the bed triumphant and ignored Viggo’s puzzled expression, knowing that in a few moments, his lover would be too distracted to try and work it out. Indeed, under Sean’s hands and mouth and later impaled upon Sean’s cock, Viggo lost the ability to think at all and even to speak, just feeling and moaning incoherently.
They slept curled around each other and when Sean woke, he felt a peace of mind he’d not known in many years. He headed for the bathroom and slipping quietly back into bed, lay propped on one arm, watching Viggo sleep and enjoying the little snuffles, stretches and shuffles, which heralded his waking, somehow reminiscent of Sean’s kids as babies.
When Viggo opened his eyes, blinking in the morning sunlight, Sean greeted him,
“Do you know that you regress to about 6 months old, when you are waking up?”
“I wondered why I’d woken with the urge to suck something.” Viggo’s voice was hoarse with sleep, but he was awake enough to dive in and suck enthusiastically on one of Sean’s nipples, making him yelp with shock. Viggo took his wrists and pinned him to the bed as he worked his way down and sucked Sean’s belly button, finishing with his cock, which was straining upwards to meet Viggo’s mouth.
They shared the shower and ate a hearty breakfast, even though Viggo joked that it was a second, Hobbit breakfast for him.
Soon they were on the road again, retracing their previous journey, finding the waterfall, where the seals still played in the pool beneath, crossing over to the rugged shoreline and forests of the remote, west coast, content in each others company, sharing the driving by day and each others bodies by night.
Eventually they worked their way back east to Dunedin, where they climbed Mount Cargill and rested, taking in the magnificent view of the harbour, the city and the coastline.
“Not bad for a couple of middle-aged men”, remarked Sean, passing the water bottle to Viggo and enjoying the line of his throat as he put back his head and swallowed. I was wondering, when we get back down, if you wanted to go to the art gallery. We didn’t do that before.”
Viggo suddenly experienced something of an epiphany and lowered the bottle, staring at Sean.
“I finally get it! That thing you said about breaking the link. It’s your superstition about never going back. Each stage of the journey, you’ve suggested something to vary the itinerary. We’re going back, but with subtle differences on the way.”
Sean flushed, but nodded, looking down at his hands, which plucked nervously at the hem of his shirt, “That last trip was perfect and I couldn’t believe that we could ever repeat perfection. I thought that trying to would screw things up, so I wanted to make enough changes that we wouldn’t be quite repeating the exact pattern.”
“And it’s working for you?”
“It is.”
“So let me suggest a variation. This time, when we leave New Zealand, we won’t be leaving behind what we’ve rediscovered. This time, we’ll make a commitment to try and make this work, whatever it takes, if that’s what you want, of course. It’s certainly what I want.”
“It’s what I want too. It’s what I’ve always wanted, if I stop kidding myself and admit it.”
“Okay, since we’re up a hill, let’s plight our troth.”
“You what?”
“Like Aragorn and Arwen. ‘They went to the fair hill, Cerin Amroth, and they looked east to the Shadow and west to the Twilight, and they plighted their troth and were glad.’ “
“Hang on, that makes me Arwen and I am definitely not wearing a frock.”
“Well I’m sure Aragorn would have plighted his troth with Boromir, if they’d met first.”
“There are too many people around for any plighting up here, not to mention that it’s a little breezy.”
“So let’s go down and plight somewhere more private.”
“Okay. Vig, I’m glad too.”
“So am I. I’m glad that we’re going to plight.”
“I’m glad that you talked me into going back.”
Going Back by Mooms
Summary: Sean and Viggo revisit New Zealand
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 5256 Read: 852
Published: 13 Nov 2010 Updated: 13 Nov 2010