There are two of us talking in circles
And one of us who wants to leave
In a world created for only us
An empty cage that has no key
"I didn't know you listened to Sarah McLachlan."
Sean flexed his fingers on the sofa and glanced up at Viggo. "I only listen to her when I'm feeling troubled," he admitted softly.
Viggo cocked his head slightly, an Aragorn mannerism now more than anything. He treaded to the sofa on silent Ranger's feet and seated himself next to Sean. The sofa emitted the sound of a deflating balloon, but other than that, there was only the sound of the beautiful music wafting around the room. "The music's gorgeous," Viggo agreed. He tapped Sean on the knee and waited for the other man to look at him before he placed his index finger on the edge of his own eye. The finger was edged so close to the eye, it looked like his finger was even touching the white of his eyeball. It was a mannerism of Orli's, a rather interesting one that Viggo had taken a photograph of once. What it meant to the two of them, no one knew, but Sean chuckled when he saw Viggo's imitation of it.
"You daft bugger," Sean muttered affectionately. He raised a hand to ruffle Viggo's hair, but Viggo warily ducked his head out from underneath the raised hand. Sean flinched, he always did that nowadays, and withdrew the hand. Sean looked hurt by the withdrawal, but it was a hurt that had been compounded in so many times now that he managed to disguise it well.
There was an awkward silence from the two parties.
What is this love that keeps me hanging on
Despite everything it's doing to me?
"Why do you always do that?" Sean finally asked. His jaw was clenched, Viggo could tell that from the tense lines of his jaw, and his lips were twisted into a grimace.
"Do what?" Viggo asked, his voice displayed the perfect innocence that only professional actors could muster. "What are you doing in here all alone anyway? The party out there could use you. The girls are probably dying to meet the famous Sean Bean, Double-Oh-Six in the flesh, eh?" Viggo elbowed Sean teasingly in an effort to take the subject of conversation away from something that he was not willing to discuss.
Sean could see that Viggo did not want to talk about it, but he knew that it could not be avoided forever. They were both the best of friends, everyone who saw them interacting would know that. Their camaraderie was touching to watch, their understanding of each other sometimes made people think that they communicated through telepathy. If not for the fact that both had been married men, and had kids, some people would have thought that they were possibly lovers. Well, why not, right?
Yet, in private, not everything was peaches and cream. "You can't avoid this, Vig. I'm not letting you this time. Tell me what's wrong. Come on. Is it me? Am I so loathsome that you can't bear to touch me?"
Viggo blinked as he took in the rapid fire questions. "What... what do you mean?"
Sean narrowed his eyes, wondered if Viggo's confusion was genuine or not. Just to be on the safe side, he decided that explaining couldn't possibly make the situation any worse that it already was. "Well let me see," he began, his tone more arrogant than he'd wanted it to be, "You flinch away from me everytime I try to touch you even physically. You shy away from any physical contact with me, in fact. Is it because I have leprosy? Some skin disease you don't want infecting you? You hug the Hobbits, you hug Orli... hell, you horseplay around with him so much it makes me jealous! What the hell is going on? Am I your friend or is this all just a game, Vig? We appear like the best of friends to everybody else, I'll warrant, but it sure doesn't feel like we are, right here, right now."
Viggo's reaction was oddly meek. "I... I'm sorry," he apologised softly. He licked his lower lip as he prepared to say more, but Sean interrupted him.
"No Vig, an apology just isn't good enough now, is it?" He was working up into a rage now, and he knew Viggo didn't deserve this temper from him, but he had no other way of explaining himself. Surely this complain about not being able to touch his best friend and the jealousy of watching his best friend touch other people seemed so juvenile? It would have been the kind of thing his daughters would have complained to him about their boyfriends. It was an ugly emotion to admit to, jealousy, and Sean had had to cover up his embarassment with his anger.
"No... I realise it isn't, Sean. Calm down, and let me explain, alright?" Those words pacified Sean a little, but not enough that Viggo thought he could cleanly come out of this alive. "I am sorry... I hadn't noticed that I was doing it, it was just something subconscious on my part. I only realised it myself some few weeks ago."
"And you didn't tell me?"
"I tried! It... it has to do with what you call 'how my mind works', and... my feelings."
"What do you mean? What feelings?"
"Do you want me to explain this to you or are we just playing 20 questions?" Viggo retorted, angry in his turn. Viggo's neck and face were all starting to grow a burning red from embarassment. An embarassment that he too was trying to hide through anger, though his anger was much more controlled than Sean's.
"Sorry," Sean said curtly.
Viggo sighed. He hadn't planned to tell Sean about this. He couldn't just conjure a lie out of thin air and tell it to his best friend. First of all, Sean would be able to tell that it was a lie, and second of all, Sean deserved more than that. Lying to Sean was something that he could not do because Sean didn't deserve the lowliness of a lie. "This... is hard for me to say, but I hope you'll understand. I have... feelings... for you. You probably knew that already somehow, I guess, it was hard for me to hide it. I didn't want to tell you, didn't want for it to explode beyond the limits of a crush because I didn't think my feelings for you were healthy.
"But then, my feelings for you made me more aware of myself and how I acted around you. I thought that maybe you were a homophobe, that you might have felt revulsion at the thought of my fancying you. Everytime you touched me, I was reminded of that, and I cringed internally. You're like an angel sent from above in my mind, you're precious, so precious that I can't bear to touch you. I couldn't bear to tell you how I felt or show you how I felt. I was too scared."
Sean was wide-eyed, and his breathing was shallow, but his attention was rooted on to Viggo now.
"I like to touch people. I feel that through touch, I can know a person better. I couldn't touch you, couldn't bring myself to stain you in anyway, so I could only touch others. Yes I horseplayed around with Orli, but through touch I learned of him in a way that talking to a person can't do. I didn't think that you'd have noticed that I couldn't touch you, wouldn't let you touch me. I simply took it for granted that it was something that would pass. Do you... get any of what I'm saying?" Viggo nibbled on his lower lip, and a trickle of cold sweat ran down the side of his head as he nervously watched Sean.
"Yeah, I do," Sean replied, his eyes still wide with wonder. "I understand more than you'd ever thought I would. You think you like me, you're idolizing me, and you're afraid to touch because of it."
Viggo flinched again, thought that Sean's words were a little cruel the way he summarised it. "And because I thought that you would be repulsed by my feelings," he added.
"Yes, that too," Sean nodded. He got up from the sofa and walked quietly out of the room. Viggo let his shoulders drop as Sean walked out, knew that it was the end. He knew from the moment that he had to tell about his feelings that it would be the end. Sean would never look at Viggo in the same way again, and Sean would leave New Zealand after finishing his parts for Boromir, and they wouldn't part friends, and they'd never see each other ever again. He probably deserved it really, he'd always had a past of falling for his closest friends and he'd always writhed in anguish as each friendship broke apart because of his stupidity.
Dejectedly he sat, listening to the music that did not help to raise his spirits by a single bit.
What is this love that keeps me coming back for more,
When it will only end in misery?
"Come on," a voice said softly to Viggo, a hand was offered to him in front of downturned eyes.
"Is this some cruel trick?" Viggo asked as he looked up to see Sean's face, flinched almost automatically as Sean's thumb touched his forehead.
"You'll see. Come on," Sean repeated impatiently. Viggo took the offered hand gingerly, figured that Sean was probably going to lead him out the front door of the house, tell him to never come back, that he was a freak in front of all their friends at the party. It wouldn't have been the first time that it would have happened to Viggo. They walked together out of the room, Viggo sullen and downturned and Sean unreadable as he sometimes was.
It took Viggo by surprise when they walked nowhere near the front door, or the party. Barefooted, the two men plodded on carpeted floors towards one of the bedrooms in Sean's house. It was Sean's room, so Viggo figured maybe Sean wanted to talk to him in a more private environ... or maybe Sean just wanted to shout and scream at Viggo without anybody in the party overhearing. Something unpleasant was definitely going to happen, of that Viggo was certain. Sean had given no sign of any pleasantness or joyfulness ever since he'd found out about Viggo's "feelings".
Viggo plopped himself on to the edge of the bed the moment Sean locked the door and waited for the executioner's axe to come swinging down, figuratively speaking of course. It amused Viggo to no end that Sean's next words to him were, "Vig, you look like as if you're waiting for your turn at the hangman's or the executioner's."
"I feel like that, unsurprisingly," Viggo replied sarcastically.
"Look Vig, I had time to think about what you told me while we were walking here, and I thought that maybe you'd like to atleast appear less like a grouchy old man and more like my friend while I tell you," Sean crossed his arms over his chest as he stood in front of Viggo. He watched the tense lines of Viggo's body relax by a fraction, and that was about all he could have hoped for.
"You said that touching a person helps you learn about a person the way talking to them can't do? Do you have this unbearable need to want to touch people all the time, Vig? To know them, to understand them, to see what makes them tick?"
Sean's approach took Viggo by surprise. He wasn't sure now if Sean had meant to be sarcastic or not and so he cautiously replied, "Yes."
"Well then, touch me, Vig. I'm sure you've wanted to know me through touch, to be able to touch this angel that you paint of me. There is no angel, Vig, just me, and I'm not going to bite," Sean got down on his knees, crawled towards Viggo until his cloth-covered knees touched Viggo's bare feet and his chin rested on Viggo's knees. "You're a daft affectionate bugger, and your stupid inhibiting ideas are just that, inhibiting. There's nothing to be afraid of. All you had to do was ask me and I would have told you that I was no homophobe and that your feelings for me were being reciprocated."
Viggo stared breathlessly at Sean, felt the pulse at his throat drum in his ears. "I guess we've come a full circle," he says as his let his callused fingertips reach out to the angel before him.
Summary: You flinch away from me everytime I try to touch you even physically.
Rated: PG
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 2136 Read: 912
Published: 06 Aug 2009 Updated: 06 Aug 2009