Summary: Sean's looking for a job.

Rated: NC-17

Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo/Karl Urban

Warnings: None

Challenges:

Series: Sean's Christmas Tale

Chapters: 3 Completed: Yes

Word count: 3208 Read: 2648

Published: 02 Aug 2009 Updated: 02 Aug 2009

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Part 1. Sean

Sean stepped out of the theatrea33;s back door. Another missed occasion, another part he would play only in his hotel room, to a public of depressed sheep from the old wallpaper.

"Thank you, but we've already found our actor." Since he had got off the train six weeks before, it was the only line he had heard. Good enough for his teachers in the little provincial acting school back at home, his talent would not be satisfying the public of the big town. It had been worse than ever today: he had had to sit for hours in a hall without being introduced to anyone, until an assistant came to tell him he would not be needed.

Sean knew no fairy had bent over his crib to grant him the graceful looks of a romantic male lead. He was built more like the handsome but rough guy, the one who would be killed and avenged, or the hero's archenemy, two characters he was used to applying for - without any result for now.

Outside the theatre, despite the early night, the streets were bright with pre-Christmas illuminations. People were restless around him, most of them with arms full of bags and colourful packages, certainly going home to a family, a warm meal. Their hearts were full of this warmth. Sean felt outside the Christmas sparkling bubble of joy.

He had hoped to find a job sooner. Not to become a legend at once, but to earn a living and be able to tell the good news in an exalted phone call to his mother and sister. Instead, despondency had insinuated slowly under his skin throughout the weeks, and the only call he had made was a short one to tell them about the uneventful journey and how nicely a33; better not to alarm them - he was settled in the small hotel someone had recommended to his mother.

The thought of going back to the sad room was depressing. But he didn't feel at ease in the pedestrian shopping streets, and he was trying to save his last notes, refusing himself even a glass of mulled wine.

On his way to the tube station, he wondered what would be his next move. He had tried all the jobs advertised in the monthly theatre paper, and had no idea where to look next. Maybe he should start looking for another kind of job to pay the hotel bills.

A gathering with banners was blocking the entrance of the tube station. A strike for Christmas, those people had no sense of responsibility. Sean sighed. The idea of walking to the other side of town through the night, without gloves or a warm enough coat, was painful. He slowed his pace, downcast.

Was some god mad at him perhaps? In this case, it wasn't his place to fight. "Little people willing", his mother was used to saying. His mother was from some isles in the North, and she always carried a coin in one of her pockets, as a charm against whom Sean couldn't remember. He wasn't usually prone to believe in evil divinities, and yet tonight the explanation had a certain appeal. He was tired of blaming himself and his poor skills, maybe he should give up and acknowledge the signs of fate: he wasn't made for town life, he should go home and accept Karl's offer of a job, if Karl still wanted him.

Images of their last encounter came back to his mind. They had met in Karl's little flat above the garage. While their meetings were usually all roughness and no endearment, Karl had been almost gentle. He had taken his time to strip Sean entirely, and had fucked him on the bed, not against the kitchen's wall. Sean had felt almost cared for. Then he had told Karl he was leaving, and Karl had gone mad.

Going back home and proving Karl right was not an option right now. Some words would be very hard to forget. It was better to feel lonely here where he was actually alone. As a matter of fact Sean didn't know anybody in the big city apart from the hotel's owner, a grumpy old woman, barely inclined in discussing more than the weather a33; always colder - and the price of gas a33; always increasing.

Snow began to fall, white cotton flying before the headlights of the cars. A thought crossed Sean's mind, let go now, just walk in the middle of the crossroads and wait for the impact, and he took a step forward. But the image of his mother's sadness kept him from moving the second foot.

The taxi stopped right in front of him. He watched the driver, a man his size, with blond hair falling into his eyes, helping the woman with her bags and then closing the boot.

"Merry Christmas, madam", he told her while she went away to the nearest building. But his eyes - blue eyes - were looking right at Sean.

Sean couldn't tell where the impulse came from which pushed him off the pavement and inside the car, at the very moment the engine started up again.