"You know," Sean said thoughtfully, "I just don't understand it."
Viggo paused, his beer halfway to his mouth, tearing his eyes away from the TV screen to meet Sean’s. “What’s that then?” he asked, bouncing his leg up and down repetitively, before taking another swig.
“You baffle me.”
“Me?” Viggo raised an eyebrow, surprised. “I baffle you?” Viggo wondered if he had ever used that word before, he couldn’t recall if he had. Peculiar word, baffle.
“Well, maybe that’s not fair - I’m not sure if its you that baffles me, or if its me that baffles me. I can’t decide – probably because I’m so busy being baffled.” Sean was staring at him, head slightly cocked, tapping his bottle against his chin.
“Riiight…” Viggo said slowly, smiling, and pausing to take a drink. “Care to expand on that?”
They were sitting side by side on Sean’s couch in front of the television. There was some awful programme on, a reality TV show, which Viggo had been sitting mocking for the last few minutes. Sean had been quiet for a while, but it was normally Viggo who did most of the talking, and Viggo had thought Sean was just tired, or enjoying his beer, or just listening to him ramble. They were good enough friends that they could sit in companionable silence and not feel awkward, so he’d thought nothing of Sean’s reverie. However, it seemed that all the while Viggo had been talking Sean had been…baffled.
“Well, to be frank Vig, you’re bloody annoying.”
Viggo hadn’t expected that. “Oh,” he said, not really sure what to say next.
“Well, think about it.” Sean shifted position, turning towards Viggo by bringing his right leg onto the couch and tucking it towards him. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs and looking at Viggo eagerly. “When I’m speaking to you, I’m lucky if I can finish a sentence without you jumping in and saying something totally random. Like earlier - at lunch I was telling you about something Ian said to me, and you just interrupted me and asked me if I thought Boromir remembered Thorongil from when he served in Gondor, or at least knew of him and thought of him as a hero when he was growing up.”
“Yeah,” Viggo admitted. “I guess I do that sometimes. But you know…”
“All the time, Vig!” Sean corrected him. “And I’m not done yet.”
“Oh,” Viggo said again. He took a drink from his beer, suddenly feeling a bit besieged.
“I’m not a morning person. Everybody knows that. I need time and space, and coffee and to be left alone for a bit until I feel more human. But you’re always in my face as soon as you see me, and you’re always so cheerful and excited about something that nobody else understands. You know, you like bounce into my face and start telling me about some fucking epiphany you had at four a.m. or something.”
“Yeah,” Viggo nodded. “I did that to you today, huh?”
“And at the end of the day, when I’m bloody tired and all I want to do is relax, you always just show up at my door, uninvited. You don’t even knock – just walk in, help yourself to beer out my fridge and come and sit next to me and change the channel without asking, to put on some daft telly show and then you bitch and moan through the whole thing. And you put your cold beer on my nice coffee table without a coaster, and it leaves rings, which I need to scrub at to remove. And you fucking twitch that leg of yours, so even if I can ignore the crap you’re spouting, and the rings on my table, the whole sofa is shaking.”
“I didn’t think you were watching that documentary,” Viggo squirmed slightly, slowly stopping his leg from bouncing and losing all interest in his beer, but afraid to put it down now.
“Then there’s the constant hair ruffling, I’m a forty year-old man, not some little kid. I should snap your hand off for doing that. And don’t get me started on the rugby-tackling - do you know how many bruises you’ve given me?”
Viggo was pretty sure that was a rhetorical question, and so he didn’t answer, as such, only to grunt a kind of “Huh,” noise, which was more contemplative that questioning. To be fair he had a pretty good idea how many bruises he’d given Sean, because he’d received plenty in turn. Rugby-tackling Sean when he had Boromir’s shield on his back was not the best idea, yet it was strangely addictive.
“You won’t let me be. If I’ve had a bad day you just have to talk about it, you won’t let me sit and sulk. I like to sit and sulk and work things out in my own head - it’s the way I’ve always done things. But you go all Oprah on me and want to try and get to the root of every problem in my life.”
The barrage continued, and Viggo felt himself wincing slightly and retreating into the sofa cushions. Sean’s face was unreadable – his voice wasn’t raised, and he certainly didn’t seem angry. He just seemed calm, pensive even, just like he was speaking aloud all of his thoughts.
“You’re always whistling, or humming, or singing. You can’t sit in peace for two minutes!
“When I’m doing something, cooking or that, you’ve got to see what I’m doing. You have to come and lean over my shoulder and look and make some kind of comment.
“And when you break your fingers and twist your knees and bruise your ribs, you don’t complain. You insist on shooting more scenes, and you don’t let people fuss over you. You never stop joking, and you’re never in a bad mood, even when you’re standing in the pouring rain and some arse keeps fucking up his lines and you’re getting soaked, but you’re the first one to put your arm around the guy. The crew adore you, and you make the rest of us look like ogres because you’re some kind of fucking saint to them. And the cast love you. You’re quirky Viggo, with your daft hats and your bare feet. Everybody thinks you’re great, and they always want you to sit with them at lunch, or come to the pub with them, or ask your advice on something. You’re the only person I know who can probably name everybody on set, and you actually know stuff about them, like their kids’ names. How the fuck do you remember all that shit?”
“I guess I’m pretty annoying,” Viggo conceded softly, cradling his beer bottle between his knees, feeling thoroughly chastised and drained somehow. “I didn’t think about it.”
A silence fell between them, and it was one of the few times in his life Viggo found himself with nothing to say. He’d considered Sean his best friend here, his brother in arms, and he’s had no idea he’d been harbouring such ill will towards him. Viggo was stunned. Baffled even.
“It’s funny,” Viggo mused aloud. “The more you say a word, it starts to sound all weird in your head when you say it. Take baffled, for instance, we…”
To his surprise Sean burst out laughing. Viggo looked at him warily and trailed off, not at all sure of what to do next. “You see? You’re doing it again. I’m sitting here talking to you and you start going on about how the word 'baffled' has started sounding funny in your head! That’s something that’s really annoying.”
“Yeah,” Viggo answered in a small voice, kicking himself.
“Which is why I am, to use that word again, so baffled.”
“You wondering why you put up with me?” Viggo asked, afraid of the answer. Because if Sean had decided he was fed-up with Viggo, he didn’t know what he’d so. Yes, he had plenty of other friends, but Sean was, well, special. He couldn’t imagine not spending part of everyday with him. He suddenly felt a rising panic. Maybe he could change? Stop being so irritating?
“No, not quite. Well, kind of,” Sean mused. Viggo clenched his jaw and readied himself. “To be more exact, what’s baffling me,” Sean grinned at that, and his eyes seemed merry enough, but Viggo was still unsure. “What’s baffling me is that I don’t find you annoying at all. Not in the slightest.”
Viggo released a whoosh of breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. “You don’t?” he asked, aware of how child-like and relieved his voice sounded, and slightly embarrassed by it.
“No. Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact - all of those things that you do, that should annoy me, don’t. I find them all… charming.”
“Charming,” Viggo repeated dubiously.
“Yeah, that’s a good word. Charming. Say it another couple of times and it’s going to start sounding funny in a minute,” Sean teased. “But that’s what’s so baffling. All that stuff should drive me up the wall. Other people in the past have annoyed the hell out of me for doing a fraction of the stuff you do, but you do all of it, and I find it charming. Fuck, I got divorced because of some of that shit. Why do you get away with it then?”
“You are becoming more tolerant with age?” Viggo suggested, not really sure why he was trying to help Sean find the answer to this question, because maybe if Sean nailed it, he would start to find Viggo irritating.
“Nope,” Sean said, shaking his head. Then he laughed. “Trust me, definitely not. You know I have no patience sometimes, did you see me snap at the hobbits this morning?” Viggo nodded and Sean looked at him, a peculiar look in his eyes. “I’m just tolerant of you, it seems. But its not just tolerance, that’s the point. I like all the stuff you do. Why are you so special?”
Viggo pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I dunno. You must be fucking crazy, Bean,” he answered honestly.
“Yeah,” Sean said softly. “I reckon you might be right.”
Viggo felt a change between them then, something intangible, but there all the same. Then he recognised the gleam in Sean’s eyes, and his own widened, but before he could speak Sean was suddenly on top of him, flattening Viggo’s body into the couch with his own.
“Sean?” he asked, the weight of his friend’s body heavy, but by no means unpleasant. Well, apart from Sean’s elbows and belt and knees and such digging into him. That was quite uncomfortable.
“What, Vig?” Sean whispered, his face directly above Viggo’s, mere inches away, green eyes (beautiful eyes, really) boring into his, breath intermingling with his own.
“You’re…” Straight? Crushing me? Crazy? Absolutely fucking beautiful? “Baffling me,” Viggo said at last.
Sean laughed softly, and Viggo could feel the vibrations passing through him, travelling through his bones, forcing his own mouth into what he was sure was a rather silly looking smile. Sean shifted slightly, bringing his arms out from underneath him to rest on the sofa next to Viggo’s head, thankfully taking some of the weight off of Viggo’s ribs. He looked thoughtful, and his fingers gently stroked Viggo’s hair, twisting the strands and grazing his scalp. Viggo practically purred, leaning into the touch. He could feel Sean’s arousal against his own, and when Sean shifted slightly again he groaned appreciatively. Sean bent his head, but just when Viggo thought he was going to kiss him, Sean instead began to trail his lips along Viggo’s cheekbones, tongue sneaking out curiously.
“Baffling you…is that a good thing now?” Sean murmured against his skin as he deliberately shifted again, eliciting another groan from Viggo.
“It’s positively…charming!” Viggo declared, not bothering to keep his groans quiet this time, and suddenly Sean was laughing again, and Viggo was laughing. And then Sean kissed him.
And it was wonderful. Sean’s lips were soft yet firm, and his tongue was quite magical. Viggo kissed him back, but was frustrated that his hands were still trapped between them, so jerked them free. He immediately slid them under Sean’s t-shirt, stroking the small of his back, drifting his fingertips along the skin.
Sean moaned into his mouth, and encouraged, Viggo raised his hands further, insistently tugging Sean’s t-shirt up with them, suddenly desperate to get it off. Sean briefly pulled away, and sat back, allowing Viggo to remove the offending clothing completely. Viggo followed him up, hands on Sean’s shoulders for balance, and latched his mouth onto one of the nipples that appeared before him. Sean grasped Viggo’s head, fingers tangling in the hair, throwing his own head back, hair tickling Viggo’s hands.
“God, Viggo,” he groaned, then suddenly rocking right back onto his heels and roughly yanking Viggo further out and up from beneath him, then grabbing at Viggo’s t-shirt to pull it off. He pulled Viggo up again so that he was on his knees as well, and kissed him fiercely again, and Viggo allowed it, allowed Sean to dictate the pace, as he was delighted as well as amazed to be in this situation at all.
Sean’s hands were now fumbling at the front of Viggo’s jeans, and Viggo followed suit, giving a huff of annoyance as Sean’s belt slowed him down. Why bother wearing a fucking belt? All of Sean’s clothes fit him perfectly, while Viggo’s jeans were always practically hanging off his backside and he still didn’t bother with a belt.
Sean was laughing at him again, laughing into his mouth, and Viggo laughed too, making it near impossible to kiss Sean, which frustrated him further, so he pulled back slightly to look into Sean’s eyes.
“Fucking belt!” Viggo grumbled good-naturedly as he finally managed to get the buckle undone, yanking it viciously out of the loops, causing Sean to lurch against him.
“Fucking button-fly,” Sean retaliated, but he had already opened Viggo’s jeans and Viggo’s hands quickly halted when Sean’s were suddenly upon him.
“Oh fuck!” he swore, hands freezing still as he was momentarily helpless, looking desperately into Sean’s eyes. Sean continued stroking with one hand, the other coming up to grab a fistful of hair at the back of Viggo’s head. Sean then ducked his head and began to suck and nibble his way along Viggo’s neck and collarbone. “Fu-uck!” Viggo cried again, hands feebly trying to undo Sean’s trousers, but then suddenly Sean pushed him down into the sofa again and Viggo watched , mesmerised, as his cock disappeared into Sean’s mouth.
Viggo was not quiet, and he was fairly certain that what he said made no sense, but again it didn’t matter as he didn’t last long, and all too soon was emptying himself into Sean’s mouth. He lay still for a few moments, Sean’s head resting against his thigh, until he remembered Sean hadn’t found his own release yet.
He gently pushed Sean onto the floor and laid himself between Sean’s legs, removing Sean’s trousers, and the rest of his own jeans, which were still bunched around his thighs. He grabbed a bottle of beer, and allowed it to slosh onto Sean’s abdomen, cock and thighs.
“See?” Sean laughed. “Fucking annoying bastard - pouring beer all over my carpet now!”
Viggo grinned, but didn’t answer, instead, eyeing Sean’s body, especially his arousal with anticipation. He grasped Sean’s right knee, and teasingly, he began to nibble his way up the inside of his thigh, licking up the beer.
“Oh God, Vig,” Sean whispered, his voice cracking. Viggo patiently continued his way up, and then when he was a fraction away from Sean’s straining erection he ducked his head back and began the same on the other leg, chuckling to himself at Sean’s increasingly desperate cries. When he moved up to Sean’s abdomen, tongue flicking over the muscles and into his naval, Sean gripped his arm painfully. “Vig!” Sean cried. “Please!”
Viggo exhaled against Sean’s skin, unable to restrain himself, and then he stopped his teasing, and quickly took Sean into his mouth. Sean’s gasps immediately became strangled cries. He didn’t last long, and soon cried out a warning to Viggo, who ignored it and allowed Sean to come inside his mouth, swallowing it down.
Viggo released him, allowing them both to catch their breath. He dragged himself up to lie beside Sean, and the two of them stayed that way for a few minutes, not speaking, just grinning like idiots and both feeling very self-satisfied. Viggo then twisted slightly and placed a light kiss to Sean’s shoulder, and suddenly again Sean was on top of him, kissing him, although this time it was slower, and sweeter.
“God, you’re fucking heavy, you know that?” Viggo grunted, although he had Sean in a vice-grip and wouldn’t have allowed him to pull away. “Don’t you believe in taking your weight on your elbows?”
“It’s hard to take you seriously when you’re still grinning like the cat that got the cream.”
“Hmph,” Viggo grumbled.
“Fine - I don’t want to get carpet burns,” Sean replied.
“But it’s okay if I do?”
“Call it payback for weeks of rugby-tackling, you big girl’s blouse.” Sean paused, pulling up slightly, a wicked smile on his face. “Actually, I think I need to give you even more carpet burns than this to compensate. You nearly broke my ribs you know.”
Viggo smirked. “And how do you plan on doing that?” he challenged. Sean immediately brought his mouth down onto Viggo’s again, thigh forcing Viggo’s legs open, and Viggo quivered with excitement when he felt Sean’s fingers at his entrance. He sighed happily, his eyes fluttering shut as Sean’s fingers tentatively began to push their way in. “More,” he demanded breathlessly.
“Ah,” Sean exhaled in frustration. “Wait a second.” He was gone before Viggo could protest, and he looked down at his already hard-again cock mournfully. Eventually Sean was back, happy again, and this time his hand was slick and slippery as it probed at Viggo’s entrance. Viggo took the condom from Sean’s other hand and put it onto Sean’s hardened member reverently, hands trembling with excitement.
Viggo soon began to whimper uncontrollably, his body taut and singing at the sensation of Sean’s fingers skilfully curling and flexing inside him. “God Sean, hurry up!” he begged, gripping onto Sean’s upper arms, trying to pull him down.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Sean said, and something in his voice made Viggo open his eyes and look at him.
“You won’t,” Viggo promised him, stilling his writhing body for a moment, and Sean gave him a lop-sided smile, before bending down and kissing his temple, his hair falling in a curtain around Viggo’s face, and at the same time, finally, sliding his cock into Viggo.
They both moaned at the same time. Viggo felt only slight discomfort, and was immediately encouraging Sean to begin moving. Sean complied, although he started slowly, until Viggo’s impatience took over and he grabbed hold of Sean’s ass, forcing him in and out.
Sean laughed again, and obeyed Viggo’s demands, and increased his speed. They were kissing each other fiercely now, but it was difficult as they were both gasping and moaning and panting. Eventually they had to give up that ghost and simply enjoy the moment, both calling out, although Viggo was much louder. As their sweat-slickened bodies slid over each other, Viggo was dimly aware of a growing pain as his buttocks, back and shoulders rubbed against the carpet, which made him smile, and he urged Sean on even faster, loving watching Sean’s face as he slowly lost control.
Soon Sean’s hand was on Viggo’s cock, and three swift strokes was all it took before Viggo cried out and released himself all over their stomachs. Sean followed moments after, his face a picture of concentration before he quietly grunted, and collapsed heavily onto Viggo, his head on Viggo’s chest.
They lay there, spent and panting, and Viggo wrapped his arms around Sean’s shoulders, gently stroking his hair and not giving a damn that Sean’s weight was indeed crushing him. He wanted to enjoy this moment.
“We really have ruined the carpet now,” Sean eventually said wryly. “Beer, cum, oil…”
“Who cares,” Viggo answered happily. “It’s only a rented house.”
“Yeah well I’ll have to pay for it.”
“I thought it’s supposed to be the Scots that are tightwads? Or is it just northerners?” Viggo teased. Sean responded by gently biting Viggo’s chest, and Viggo squirmed, laughing.
“Cheeky bastard,” Sean mumbled.
“Not charming anymore?”
“Nope,” Sean said, suddenly moving to get up. “Well, I’ve got what I wanted, show yourself out, will ya?”
“Fuck off!” Viggo grabbed hold of Sean tightly, and they laughed some more, with Sean pressing gentle, apologetic kisses to Viggo’s chest.
Tiredness began to come over them, and Viggo’s stroking of Sean’s hair got lazier.
“Sean?”
“Mmm,” came the sleepy answer.
“I think baffled is my new favourite word.”
There was a slight pause, and Viggo felt Sean’s lips smile against his chest. “Me too, you annoying bastard.”
Summary: Viggo should be really annoying. Why isn't he?
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 3700 Read: 1019
Published: 02 Aug 2009 Updated: 02 Aug 2009