It was Elijah’s idea, born from too many years away from his friends and a never-fading wish of being able to see all of them again. He wanted to catch up and hug them all, wanted to find out about their lives through their own lips instead of tabloids and newspapers. He spent so many months in New Zealand for the shooting of The Hobbit again, and watched the bonds being formed amongst the dwarves and between the sole hobbit and the dragon—and he missed his friends with an ache that he refused to deny.
But it was Dom who was the organiser. Elijah called him up immediately, knowing that Dom was likely to be the only one who kept in touch with everyone. Though, the most difficult part of finding ‘everyone’ was already accomplished—Peter hired Orlando for Legolas again, and their Elf couldn’t disappear out of sight. Dom didn’t even begrudge Orlando bringing Miranda; after all, Billy would be bringing Ali as well, and he could guess that Viggo might be bringing Ariadna (or David). Dom didn’t even want to imagine who Beanie would bring—he really hoped it wasn’t a girl younger than him.
It took a few months of calling people, negotiating schedules, and professional wheedling before the whole Fellowship agreed. They were meeting in Wellington a day after the premiere of The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, and Pete, Fran and the other produces decided to give the Hobbit cast the day off before continuing the tour so they could have their reunion.
Sean—Sean Astin—had helped him to rent a place in Wellington that was more of an empty house than a hotel; it really was just a giant space surrounded by four walls. There were power plugs at the walls, a refrigerator, tables and chairs, and grills at the back porch. There was a beat-up piano near a corner, with a curtain draped over it. Dom had placed the jukebox and his and Elijah’s iPods over on that corner for the sheer irony of it, and the three hobbits had laughed a little about how they were using iPods now when they would have to bring stacks of CDs years ago.
It had been thirteen years. Sometimes Dom still couldn’t believe it. The memories of the Rings were still as clear as they were yesterday.
Most of the Fellowship—along with Ali, Christine, and Orlando’s Miranda—and Karl, Craig, David, and their Miranda had arrived around an hour ago, and the party was in full swing. They were only missing their King and his almost-Steward, and Dom was punching Sean’s number into the phone. Viggo wasn’t answering his phone, though Dom wasn’t worried. Knowing him, it was likely that the phone was ringing at the bottom of some lake. Sean, however, was rarely late and almost always picked up his phone. That was worrying.
“Dear boy,” Ian said, coming close to him. “I think you can put the phone down. I hear a car outside.”
Dom blinked, looking at Ian for a long moment before he heard voices.
“I tol’ you ta take the left turn, not the right one—”
“I know Wellington better than you, Sean, I stayed here for longer.”
Dom turned to Ian. “It’s unfair that you have better hearing than I do,” he put a little bit of whine in his voice.
Ian chuckled, placing a hand on Dom’s shoulder. “Eventually you will learn to listen for what’s important, Dom. In the meantime, let’s greet our Men.”
But it seemed Viggo and Sean weren’t finished yet.
“You can get lost a half-mile from me ‘ouse, much less yer own. You should’ve let me drive. ‘sides, it’s the wrong side of the road fer you. I can’t trust yer directions.”
“I’m not letting you drive. You drive every car like a Land Rover!”
“We should’ve hired a Land Rover.”
“It’s Wellington, it’s not the South Island.”
“What does that ‘ave ta do with anythin’? I drive a Land Rover in London.”
“Because you’re a shameless bastard who never realises the kind of glares you get with your giant car taking up half a four-lane road on the streets.”
“Yeah, it’s fuckin’ fantastic, ain’t it?”
“Who knows that if Boromir had lived, he and Aragorn would start arguing like a married couple?” Dom cut in before Viggo could reply, leaning against the doorway. “You two are late.”
They looked at each other for a moment. Sean quirked his lips up a little. Viggo shrugged, and leaned in towards Sean, bumping their shoulders together like they were kids. Then Sean ducked his head, and his shoulders shook. The whole exchange took less than three seconds. Dom frowned, and beside him, he could feel Ian straightening up and narrowing his eyes.
“We took the wrong turn,” Viggo said. He walked forward and Dom opened his arms for a hug, which he got along with a heavy slap on the back. “Good to see you, Dom.” He pulled away, and gave Ian the same bear hug.
Dom stuck out his hand to Sean, and Sean laughed, grabbed it and pulling Dom close, hugging him tight before letting him go. He gave Ian a handshake first, then shook his head and hugged back when the older man pulled him into an embrace.
“Has everyone else arrived?” Viggo asked, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“Yeah,” Dom grinned. “Karl, Miranda and Dave are here too. Oh, and all the girls are off-limits, Beanie—they are all taken, so don’t even try.”
Viggo and Sean looked at each other for a long moment before bursting out laughing. Ian was laughing too, and Dom looked at all of them. That was a joke, but he didn’t think it was that funny. Something was going on here and he wasn’t noticing it.
What was it that Ian had just said? That he had to learn to notice the important things? He squinted at Viggo and Sean, realising for the first time that Sean—impeccable, three-piece-suit Sean—had his hair mussed, his tie loose, and his jacket was unbuttoned. Viggo was wearing mismatched socks with his leather shoes, but otherwise he looked normal. Meaning that his collar was unbuttoned, his tie looked a sad state of affairs, his slacks were wrinkled, and his hair was a rat’s nest.
Sean seemed to have noticed Dom’s scrutiny, and he reached up and combed his hair with just his hands, sending the dark blond strands all over his face. He had grown his hair out again, and he was fixing his clothes with the ease of long practice. Then he turned around and grabbed hold of Viggo’s lapels, straightening them before he tipped Viggo’s head up. Viggo obligingly lifted his head and let Sean fix his tie and collar. Then Sean looked Viggo up and down, and sighed, as if telling himself that there was nothing to be done about the wrinkles on Viggo’s pants and the socks.
Dom could feel Ian’s silent laughter next to him.
Something weird was going on. Dom had a sinking suspicion about what, but… it couldn’t be, right? He was probably just imagining things; after all, Billy used to fix his clothes all the time and Billy was married now.
“We should go in,” Viggo said, trying to tame his hair into some sort of neatness. Sean looked amused.
“Let’s,” Ian said, seeming to have calmed down though he kept smirking at Viggo. Viggo, proving himself just as much a shameless bastard as he accused Sean of being, completely ignored him.
There was a huge roar when Viggo and Sean stepped into the lodge, and the two of them were buried beneath people almost immediately. Dom slipped off and grinned to himself.
Now the Fellowship was finally complete.
***
Elijah wasn’t surprised that it was Viggo who first found the piano and shut off the jukebox—he knew that Viggo could play. But he was surprised at what Viggo said next.
“Sean! Sean- sorry Astin, not you. Bean, you bastard, come over. Your King wants you.” Viggo grinned over the burst of laughter that remark caused.
“My King can go fuck himself,” Sean shouted back good-naturedly before he meandered over to Viggo, making a detour around the table where Pete, Fran and John were huddling together with easy grace that Elijah still hadn’t mastered even after thirteen years. “What is it, Vig?”
“Look at this,” Viggo tossed back the cloth Elijah had used to cover the piano. His fingers traced along the top of the cover. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”
“She’s old,” Sean said, voice low. “The keys are made of real elephant ivory- come over here, Vig. Can you see the ovals here? There’s growth rings on the keys.” He shakes his head, “She must be at least seventy years old. Why the hell is she in this place?”
“Abandoned, most likely,” Viggo said, and Elijah watched as he tossed the top of the piano off and propping it up. “Do you think it’s still in tune?”
“Nah, likely ta be not,” Sean said, and his fingers walked across the white keys. The piano made a few sounds. Out of the corner of his eyes, Elijah could see Orlando turning to watch. He wasn’t surprised—during the shoot, it seemed that Orlando’s eyes always followed where Viggo went. Thirteen years later and it seemed that not much had changed.
Though it seemed that there were still things he could learn about his friends. Elijah had never known that Beanie could play the piano.
“She can probably do with a tunin’, but she’s still pretty alrigh’. Won’t bleed any ears,” Sean grinned. Viggo bumped their shoulders together, getting a laugh before Sean dropped himself onto the piano bench. “You’re a demandin’ bastard,” Sean said, though Viggo hadn’t said anything at all.
The voices in the background petered off and faded when Sean began to play. Elijah didn’t know the song—he might have a huge CD collection, but there were things that not even he knew. He knew that part of the reason why was that he was mesmerised by the look on Sean’s face—his eyes half-lidded, lips pressed together gently as if humming. He was struck by the look on Viggo’s—on the way he looked at Sean as if he was every single dream he ever had come true in that one second, and they took Sean’s form.
Sean paused in his playing, and he shifted sideways against the piano bench. Their eyes didn’t even have to meet before Viggo took the message and sat down on the bench, looking at Sean and the keys for a moment before his fingers landed on the ivory, starting a halting rhythm. Sean slowed the song to suit him, and they played together.
It was a sweet song, but Elijah could barely hear it. How could he have missed this? Was it something new? How could he have not known?
“Well,” a voice said next to him, and Elijah turned to see Karl. “I have been trying to figure something out for something like ten years now, and the answer drops right on my lap.”
“What?” Elijah whispered back, speaking below the sound of the piano.
“When Viggo and I were in Japan together, we had far too much free sake one day, and he told me in that weird, roundabout sort of way that he sort of fell in love with someone during the shoot,” Karl shook his head, grinning. “It was mostly to shut up my whining about missing Natalie while doing promotions.”
“But that was such a long time ago.”
“Yeah,” Karl said. “I haven’t even thought about this for a long time, but somehow I just think that I’m right.”
Viggo stopped playing first, his hands—paint-stained—splaying out against the yellowing keys. Sean played the last refrain before he stopped as well, looking at the piano. His fingers danced against the wood, and he said something to Viggo that was too low for Elijah to hear. The two of them didn’t seem to have realised the silence that had fallen around them. Sean smiled brightly, and he tipped his head to the side.
Then Viggo leaned in and kissed him, right in front of their rapt audience.
“Well,” Astin said, his voice breaking the silence. He sounded amused. “This is new.”
“But hot,” Miranda said. She dug at her pockets for her phone, aiming it at Viggo and Sean. “Do it again.”
“No. Fucking hell, Miranda—” Sean broke the kiss immediately, whirling around to glare.
“Maybe if you can wrangle Cate here and kiss her, we might be able to convince them,” David murmured, sotto voce.
“You just want to see hot girls kiss, Wenham,” Craig rolled his eyes.
Elijah grinned, turning as Dom cleared his throat obnoxiously loudly.
“Ian called it first,” Dom announced. “He was sending messenger eyebrows at me from the moment he saw Viggo and Beanie walk through the door.”
“The wizard knows all,” Billy intoned right on cue next to him.
Sean sent them all a middle finger, his lips parting as if to speak.
But Ian beat him to it, lifting his eyebrows, “They were looking remarkably dishevelled when they first came in.”
“See exhibit: Messenger Eyebrows,” Dom nodded, waving an arm at Ian with a serious expression.
“Just fuck off, you wankers,” Sean was flaming red.
Viggo, as expected, was entirely unrepentant, “If you were wondering, it was in the air—mmmph!” Sean slapped a hand over his mouth.
“Thank you, Sean,” Peter said, heaving a sigh of relief. “I didn’t need to know that.”
“I did,” Fran said, grinning. “Still do, in fact.”
Before Peter—or anyone else-could reply, there was a loud bang of the door slamming close. Everyone turned, and Elijah could see a glimpse of black hair at the porch.
Orlando was missing. His wife was rubbing at her temple. As everyone blinked at the door, she walked forward and Elijah couldn’t hear what she whispered urgently to Sean and Viggo. He made to go after Orlando, but Ian’s hand was suddenly on his elbow.
“This is something you cannot help with, little hobbit,” their wizard murmured to them. Elijah looked at him for a few moments before he turned to watch Viggo slip out of the back porch. Sean patted the piano bench, and Miranda sat down.
“What’s going on?” Elijah said, feeling incredibly confused.
“Orlando is a lucky husband,” Ian said, completely enigmatic. Then he was gone, engaged in a conversation with their Miranda.
Elijah stared after him, trying to figure out what he just said and how it was any answer to his question at all. After a few minutes, he gave up and went for a drink.
***
“That’s a filthy habit, you know.”
Orlando looked up from his cigarette to watch Viggo drop down to sit next to him on the porch.
“I thought you smoke,” Orlando said, out of the lack of anything else that could be said.
“Sean and I have a pact. If I don’t start, he doesn’t start. If he doesn’t start, I don’t start. It’s working a lot better than my other tries,” Viggo paused, and then sighed. “That wasn’t the best start to a conversation I could’ve had.”
Orlando looked at him for a long moment. They had all aged. Orlando thought he had taken the brunt of it out of all of them, because he wasn’t the pretty elf anymore. It took him much longer on the makeup chair to turn into Legolas than it had thirteen years ago. That wasn’t surprising at all.
It was disappointing, though. Once, in the midst of Pirates, he had looked at Johnny and decided that he wanted to have the kind of career; he wanted people to see him as more than a pretty face. That wasn’t happening yet, and it was taking more effort than he thought it possible.
The worst thing was that he was becoming determined that it wasn’t actually worth it.
Despite all that… despite the thirteen years, Viggo looked better than he ever had, somehow. He had always had a light within him, but now it shone even brighter. He wasn’t smiling now, but he looked… content; happy, like he finally managed to reach a dream he had for a long time and was living it.
“I thought you were dating Ariadna,” he said finally, and it was nothing like what he actually wanted to say at all.
“I was,” Viggo said, and he didn’t look surprise at the sudden change of subject. “But we broke it off last year. It… didn’t work out.”
“Because of Sean?”
“Because of me,” Viggo corrected. He took a breath, and rubbed slightly at his eyes. “But also because of Sean… of what I feel for Sean.”
Orlando took a long drag of his cigarette, and then he threw it down to the ground and stubbed it out with the toe of his shoes. “You know, I had the biggest crush on you during shooting,” he saw Viggo starting to speak, and he waved a hand. “Yeah, I know you knew. Everyone knew, because I wasn’t subtle about it at all, but just hear me out.”
He lit out another cigarette, blowing out the smoke before he tipped his head up to the sky. Wellington’s stars were as familiar to him as England’s by now. “I had a mad crush on you, and I always thought that I should’ve done something about it. It’s not that I regretted not doing something, because hell, if I did I don’t know if I would’ve met Miranda and I wouldn’t have Flynn, and fucking hell, not even you’re worth that much.” He paused. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s true,” Viggo murmured. He was just looking at Orlando now, quietly listening.
“Yeah, but—at the time I thought, it’s because you don’t like men, that’s why you tolerated me throwing myself at you instead of taking up the invitation. It’s comforting to think like that, because, hell, you’re the only guy I’ve ever wanted. Then after a while I realised that it isn’t true, but… it’s always comforting as hell for me to think that you’re not attached. Or that even if you have a girl, you didn’t marry her. That even though I’ve given up a long time ago, I still have a chance, you know?”
He rubbed his hand over his mouth. Took another drag. “It’s fucking selfish as hell. I keep hoping that you’ll never find someone to settle down with just for the sake of my ego. Then just now—the way you look at Beanie just now, man. How I look at Miranda don’t even come close, and I adore my lioness. I know that I haven’t a fucking chance. I didn’t want to take that chance, but hell, it still hurts to think that I don’t have one.”
There was a long pause. “You done?” Viggo asked.
“Yeah,” Orlando said. He looked at his cigarette. He had a little less than half of it left, but he was trying to quit anyway. He stubbed it out.
“You’ve grown up a lot since the last time I saw you,” Viggo said, and he was smiling.
Orlando tried not to be too pleased with the compliment.
“I became a father,” he said, smiling. He sighed a little, looking at the stars. “It puts a lot of things into perspective. I used to be obsessed about my image and what people thought of me and hanging out with the ‘right’ kind of people. Trying to be ‘movie star’ material, you know? After a while, I realised I jumped ship all you guys, and a movie career really isn’t really worth that shit. Don’t even have projects lined up right now, and I don’t even care.”
Viggo reached over and ruffled his hair. Orlando flailed a little, feeling twenty-two again instead of the thirty-five he really was, but he didn’t stop him.
“If it helps at all,” Viggo murmured. “You never really had a chance. I still can’t decide when exactly I fell for Sean, but the first time I met him is a good bet.”
Orlando stared at him for a long moment, then threw his head back and laughed, “Fucking hell, man, you mean I was throwing myself all over you and you were already in love with Beanie?”
Viggo cracked a smile and shrugged. There was a slightly longer pause.
“You know, it’s weird,” Orlando said finally, tilting his head to the side and looking like a bird. “It does make me feel better.”
***
“I’m glad,” Ian said.
Sean blinked, looking up at the bunch of steaks that he had been grilling. He wasn’t Viggo, who would’ve been able to claim that he could make dishes from every continent if Antarctica had cuisine, but he could make a mean steak-and-potato.
Besides, it meant that only the bravest or the most determined would approach him for interrogation while he was surrounded by smoke and fire and popping fat.
“Wot?” he blinked.
“I’m glad,” Ian repeated, “that it seems that you and our dear King have come to your senses.”
Sean stared at him for a long moment. “... So how long ‘ave you known?”
“Since the two of you returned from your trip to the South Island,” Ian replied quite promptly, smiling like a Cheshire Cat. “It was obvious in the way the two of you looked at each other.”
“Just like a fuckin’ wizard,” Sean drawled, and he shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell us anythin’? Might’ve made us move our asses faster.”
“I didn’t think it was my business to tell two grown men what to do in their personal lives,” Ian replied, sounding amused. Then he hesitated. Sean took the pause to lift the steaks from the grill and drop them onto the side table.
“Do you mind if I asked an insensitive question, Sean?”
Sean stared at him. “Yer insensitive is probably the most polite I’ve ever been asked,” he said dryly. “What is it, Ian?”
“You seem very comfortable in your relationship with a man,” Ian said, speaking obliquely. But Sean had known Ian for a while, and he spoke to him on regular enough basis to understand when he was trying to be delicate.
“I don’t think of Viggo like that,” he replied, dragging a hand through his hair. “He’s Viggo; I’m happier wi’ ‘im than I’ve ever been wi’ anyone else. It ain’t meant that I’m gay—no offence, Ian—and I don’t even think it means I’m bi or anythin’ like that. He’s just… this big exception, you know?” He paused. “’ell, I haven’t even stopped lookin’ at women, though I’ve stopped wantin’ ta go after ‘em.”
Ian smiled, reaching out to squeeze Sean on the shoulder. “Good, so-”
“If yer next words is ta try ta get me ta join Stonewall, Ian, I’ll force you ta eat a steak.”
***
“So,” Sean said when he and Viggo finally had a moment to themselves, “do I ‘ave ta beat off beautiful, nubile young men for you?”
They were sitting out on the porch, their pockets emptied with the insides lolling out like tongues. Stashed cigarettes were thrown into the trash. Everyone was either crashed out on sleeping bags on the floor or they had gone home or back to a hotel—Sean and Viggo were the only ones awake.
Viggo leaned against Sean’s shoulder, taking in a long breath of his warm scent. “Maybe. What would you do?”
“I’ll tell ‘em exactly what it’s like ta live with you,” Sean said, looking at him fondly. “Paint footprints on the floor, you forgettin’ ta eat nine times outta ten, ‘aving ta deal with your strange and mildly terrifying ex-wife, yer ‘abit of buyin’ very strange things for me girls, yer nasty tendency o’ wakin’ up in the middle of the night ta paint or write and leavin’ the bed cold, carryin’ yer camera everywhere and leavin’ evidence o’ our depravity wherever people could find it… I can go on.”
“I should be thankful that you’re patient enough to put up with me, then,” Viggo said, smiling. One benefit of not smoking was the ability to taste each other better. To smell each other better.
“Nah,” Sean said, cupping the back of Viggo’s head and drawing him even closer as their lips parted. “I’m just used ta you.”
It was a bright clear night full of stars, but there were nothing brighter than Sean’s eyes.
Summary: There is one secret that Sean keeps from Viggo, and one secret that Viggo keeps from Sean. One day both will be blown open, and they both can't wait for that day.
Rated: G
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 10 Completed: No
Word count: 28356 Read: 10274
Published: 30 May 2012 Updated: 30 May 2012