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Summary: Viggo's emotions had been out of control and he had hurt Sean in the process.

Rated: PG-13

Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo

Warnings: None

Challenges:

Series: None

Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes

Word count: 2383 Read: 855

Published: 02 Aug 2009 Updated: 02 Aug 2009

Sean walked into the studio and watched Viggo as he worked on his latest creation. His face was so peaceful, his eyes an interesting mix of intense concentration yet slightly unfocused. Sean would never grow tired of this sight, seeing his lover engrossed in his art. But they had been apart for three months and Sean had expected more of Viggo's time when he finally arrived in LA. But after they had fallen into bed the first night, desperate and longing, Sean woke up without his partner. During the night Viggo had been hit by a spark of inspiration and for the past three days had barely stepped out of his studio.

Sean had tried distraction and guilt, attempted to seduce and enflame and when all else failed tried his best pout and wounded eyes, but had only managed to garner a few quick kisses, some annoyed reproaches, and several promises that "I'll only be another few minutes." After being rebuffed more times than Sean's pride was willing to admit, he finally settled on waiting out this burst of creativity. But one day stretched into three and now he was more than a little annoyed. Was it too much to ask for Viggo to make him the priority right now?

He stood in the doorway for a few more minutes, unsuccessfully trying to push down his resentment. He was routinely amazed at the depth of his love for this man, and he knew Viggo wouldn't knowingly hurt him, but he couldn't help but feel neglected and irritated. Pushing away from the wall, Sean walked into the room and emptied the tray he was carrying, placing a plate of sandwiches and a glass of iced tea on the desk. He looked at some of the random writing spread across the surface, odd notes jotted down for future consideration. He noticed what was left of the breakfast he had brought in the morning and put the empty coffee mug and plate on the tray.

"Viggo."

"Hmm?" Sean scowled when he didn't even garner a glance from his love.

"Viggo!"

"What is it, Sean?" The annoyance in Viggo's voice stung. Sean squeezed his eyes shut, tried to count to 10 before responding. It would be too easy to escalate this but Sean didn't want to say something he'd regret later, deciding instead to walk out of the room.

"Nothing, Vig. Don't worry about it."

"I need to get this out, Sean, while it's still in my head. It's not going to take much longer; I'm not finishing it now. Ok?"

Sean turned slightly and looked back at Viggo, who still hadn't bothered to even look at him. He sighed and looked down at the tray in his hands and continued out the door.



Viggo put the brush down and stepped back from the easel, satisfied with where this piece was going. He stretched the kinks out of his neck and back, walked over to his desk and wrote a few notes. He looked at the empty glass, its condensation long since dried forming another ring on the well-worn surface. Sean always took care of him when he was absorbed in his work. But how long had he been in here? Seeing Sean again after so long apart had inspired this surge of creativity, the feelings overflowing and demanding an outlet. Viggo frowned, realizing that he had been ignoring Sean almost from day one. He started running through the last couple of days and cringed. Sean was hurting and it was his fault.

"Shit! I really fucked up."

He found Sean at the kitchen table, shoving pasta around on a plate and staring at the darkness outside.

"Hey."

Sean startled at the sound and turned to look at Viggo. Half of him wanted to go to him, hold him tight and take care of him. He was too thin and looked tired and Sean hated to see him like that. But he was also angry, and part of him wanted to yell and scream, shove Viggo out of the doorway and leave, make him worry and feel abandoned. He warred with himself and wound up just staring at Viggo, not able to say anything.

"Look, I owe you an apology. I lost track of time and ..."

"Lost track of ... give me a break." Sean shoved himself up from the table, knocking over the chair, and pushed past Viggo, suddenly feeling claustrophobic and needing more space between them.

"Please, Sean. Listen to me. You know how I get sometimes."

Sean sighed. "I didn't want to stop you, not forever, I know you can get consumed by your art. All I wanted was for you to talk to me, occasionally take a break and hold me, help me to get over missing you so much."

"I missed you too, you have to believe that. But if I had stopped even for a couple of minutes I wouldn't have been able to focus on you, it wouldn't have been fair to either of us." Viggo trailed off, watched as Sean's jaw clenched and unclenched, his hands reflexively clutching the back of the couch.

Sean didn't want to lose his temper, knew Viggo would hear him better if he could try to be calm. "When we first got together, I found it so hard to believe that you could actually love me," he said quietly, his eyes never wavering from Viggo's. "Remember? I almost wrecked us because I couldn't believe someone like you could really want me, with my track record, my temperament. But I was wrong, you made me see it, know it, be secure that this was real. We've had fights, we've been stupid, but this is the first time I've actually felt uncared for, that I wasn't worthy of your time."

"You're right, I'm a total shit. I woke up and everything I'd been feeling threatened to drown me and I needed to dump it. I tried writing but it had to be painted too and I let it take over. I'm sorry."

"I'm used to your obsessive artistic moods, Viggo. I'm not used to being so unimportant you can't even look at me or talk to me."

Viggo raked his fingers through his hair. Sean was right, this was worse than anything he had done before.

"I don't know how to explain it right now. But you're right, I've been more than fixated the past couple of days and at the worst possible time. I need to figure things out in my head before I can talk about it, I want to get it straight. But please don't shut me out in the meantime. I don't expect you to forgive me yet, but please give me a little time to make things right."

As he spoke, he moved forward and reached for Sean, slowly pulled him closer. Sean's eyes still looked guarded and sad, but the anger was less pronounced. He wrapped his arms around Sean, only relaxing when he felt Sean's hands on his back. They stood there for a moment, and then Sean stepped away, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand to get rid of the tears that threatened to fall.

"I could never shut you out, Vig. But I can't pretend there's not something between us right now, either."

"No, of course not."

Sean's heart twisted; Viggo looked so small, almost vulnerable, and as hurt as he felt Sean couldn't help but respond. He traced his fingers down Viggo's cheek, leaned in and gave him a quick gentle kiss.

"Help me clean up the kitchen?"

Viggo nodded and followed Sean into the other room. They spent the rest of the night sitting, reading and talking and when the stress of the day finally caught up with them, they slept spooned together, Viggo loosely cradling Sean to him.



Just before dawn, Viggo quietly slipped out of bed. He headed for the yard and laid out on the recliner at the back of the garden. At this hour the air felt fresher, the world more at peace, and he hoped the quiet would help focus his thoughts and let him work through the past few days. It was hard to revisit the last week; not difficult to remember, he just didn't want to replay it, knowing his emotions had been out of control and he had hurt Sean in the process.

When Sean woke up alone, his stomach knotted with frustration. He rolled onto his back, tried to convince himself that Viggo was just making breakfast or maybe reading a script. He checked every room but the studio, it's closed door sneering at him, and Viggo was nowhere to be found. Forget disappointment, Sean was now completely angry. He stormed into the bathroom, showered and dressed, and started for the kitchen and a cup of tea. On the way he couldn't help veering off to the studio; to hell with trying to be understanding and holding his tongue.

He slammed the door of the studio open and stopped dead, staring into the empty room. His heart was pounding more than he expected, his breath coming in sharp bursts.

"Sean?"

Viggo saw the flash of anger in Sean's eyes as he spun around, quickly dissipating to something unreadable.

"Hey, Vig," Sean said quietly. "I thought ..."

"You thought I was off again. Sorry. I went out back to think."

"No, that's fine. You don't have to tell me where you are every second of the day." Sean shifted uncomfortably, embarrassed that he had so quickly jumped to the wrong conclusion. Viggo gave him a small smile and kissed him softly. He took Sean's hands in his, studied the palms and the long fingers. Sean could almost hear Viggo collecting his thoughts, so stood quietly taking several deep breaths of his own to dissipate his recent anger so he could really hear what Viggo had to say.

"I've never been so blocked in my life," Viggo began. "For three months I couldn't sketch, paint, write; not even stray thoughts on scraps of paper or notes for the book. I couldn't express anything in any way. I knew I missed you; I thought if we talked on the phone more often I'd be able to break out of it. But there were only so many more calls you could afford to take and still do your job. I wasn't angry about that, lord knows I completely understood. And it didn't seem to matter anyway."

Viggo lifted his head, needing to be anchored by the warmth in Sean's eyes. "It was like you had accidentally packed my creativity when you left and I was empty. I can be stuck if you're here or create when you're not but both being gone at once ... it felt like I had died. And then you were home and all the loneliness and desire of the last three months boiled over and it was wonderful and we clung to each other, couldn't get enough. The next morning I woke up and suddenly the block was gone and I could feel again. It was amazing but overwhelming and I had to do something about it.

"But I shouldn't have lost myself in it. I never meant to make you feel that my work was more important than you. There's nothing further than the truth. If it weren't for you and Henry ... hell, I don't think I'd be sane if it weren't for you two. And as much as I love my son, meeting you, having you love me ... it's a cliché but it's like the final piece of my life fell into place. I'm sorry, Sean. I'm so sorry that I ignored you, that I hurt you. Please forgive me."

Viggo had barely taken a breath, speaking quickly trying to make Sean understand. He had begun to cry as he spoke, and now Sean gently brushed away his tears and lightly kissed his cheeks.

"I think I understand. You felt desperate and then suddenly found what you thought was lost? There was an urgency to release it all at once."

Viggo nodded, holding Sean's waist and scrunching his shirt in his hands.

"Just promise me if it happens again, if we're not together and you feel like it all shuts down, tell me. Let me know it's starting to get bad."

"But what good ..."

"Promise me, Viggo. I'll find a way to come home, find a way to help you through it so it doesn't build up like this. Give me a chance to try and help you."

Viggo released a shaky breath and smiled. "Yes, Sean, I promise."

Sean closed the distance between them. The kiss began slowly, a gentle caress of lips that gradually grew deeper, both needing to dispel the tension and replace it with tenderness and love. Their movements became more urgent, clothing hastily removed as they stumbled back into the studio, falling together on the old futon that sat in the corner. Preparation was rough and quick, and in one thrust Sean was fully seated in Viggo's sheath. Only then did they pause, their breathing ragged, staring into each others eyes.

"I love you."

"I love you."

They began to move, rocking and thrusting in unison, each the perfect compliment to the other, passion and desire flooding their veins. Their feelings were too raw and intense for this to last long, powerful orgasms rushing through them and leaving every nerve on fire, their skin tingling. They held tightly to each other as their heartbeats gradually slowed and their breaths evened out.

Sean chuckled. "I think that exorcized my negative feelings about this room."

Viggo smiled, snuggling deeper into Sean's arms. "Would you be annoyed if I told you I've had another inspiration?"

"No. Just as long as you let me distract you from time to time."

"I won't need the distraction. I have a vision of you naked in bed for the next several days while I sketch you with my lips and hands, paint you with my tongue and cum."

"God, Vig," Sean moaned, then levered himself to his feet dragging Viggo with him. "You're insatiable."

"With you who wouldn't be. C'mon. I need to start my latest masterpiece."