Thrust– Parry – Stab – Sean hacked at an imaginary tentacle, retreated a step, looked around him, aimed for another blow...
"Cut!" Peter's voice sounded tinny through the megaphone.
Sean dropped his sword and sloshed towards the 'lake shore', glad for every single minute he did not have to be in the freezing water of the wet set. For hours, they had been working on the fight with the watcher at the gates of Moria, and his soaked body was beginning to seriously complain about the cold.
When he joined the others, he noticed that even Viggo looked a bit worn. It had been a long afternoon.
"Do you think you can handle another sequence or should we call it a day?" Peter's question was not asked out of politeness. Now, with the sun gone behind clouds, it was getting really cold.
"One more's fine with me." Sean managed to suppress a shiver and gave Viggo a challenging look.
Viggo shook his head. "Nah, I think I'm done for today. If we're not too far behind the schedule... I'd rather have a hot shower than another cold bath."
The remaining members of the Fellowship were informed of the decision. A meeting at the pub was quickly agreed on by the Hobbits and the Elf, who were disappointed when their Men showed reluctance.
"Come on, give us senior citizens a chance to warm our old bones in front of the fire." Viggo, seeing that Sean was tired, spoke for both of them.
"Yeah, or else we'll be carrying your walking sticks after you for the next few months," Elijah shot back.
"The lake at Amon Hen was much colder!" Astin remarked.
"But you got dry clothes and hot drinks between takes, so that doesn't count!" Orlando could always be trusted to defend his human heroes.
"Stop whining – I want my beer now..." This statement was greeted with approval and the cheerful Hobbit crowd plus Silvan attachment moved towards the make-up trailer.
Ian and John wished everyone a good night and left, too.
Viggo slung an arm around his fellow Man's shoulders. "You should remind make-up not to use blue lip stick on you." He grinned at the Brit who glared back.
"I'm fine. You were the one who didn't want to continue!"
Sighing, Viggo replied, "Sean, there is no shame in admitting to feeling cold." When he felt the Brit stiffen, he added, "Come on, let's not fight. We're both wet and cold – I certainly am, and that's good enough for me to go home and have a quiet evening."
Later that night, Viggo found himself lying on their bed next to a completely different Sean. Where the Brit had been bristling earlier when faced with admitting to what he perceived as a weakness, he was all soft and docile now.
The Dane looked at his half-asleep lover and once again felt awed that this stubborn warrior returned his feelings. Viggo was certain that there was a contemplative side to Boromir, too, and wondered if Aragorn had ever had the chance to explore it. He smiled at Sean and traced the outline of the blond's face with his fingers, frowning at the heat he found there.
"Sean?
"M–mm?"
"I think you have a fever, luv."
Sean sighed. "Might have caught a bit of a cold earlier," he admitted. "'m feeling slightly under the weather, ye know, tired, a pain in the lower back..."
"Maybe I can help with that, like, give you a massage?"
"Ye mean, ye'd molest me." Sean grinned fondly at his lover. "Sorry, Vig, I'm really knackered." He yawned.
Viggo brushed his lips against the blond's cheek affectionately, then turned to switch the light off. He wrapped the blanket around them and settled for sleep, Sean's face burrowed against his neck. Both men fell asleep almost immediately.
"Cut! And we'll run it again, but this time I want Viggo three steps to the left..." Peter was satisfied. They were making good progress, except...
"Can we have another break? I need to take a piss..."
"Sean, that's the third time in less than two hours. Are you sure you're okay?" Peter shot him a scrutinising look. "All right, ten minutes, and no more tea for our Boromir here!"
His eyes swept the set until they found Viggo staring after Sean. The Brit's temper was legend, and Peter decided to use an alternate route around his problem.
He walked over to his Aragorn and asked, "Let's have it. What's wrong with him?"
Viggo frowned. He was dimly aware that Sean had gotten up a few times during the night, but in the morning the Brit had looked refreshed and insisted that he was fine.
"He's coming down with something and thinks it'll go away if he denies it."
"Probably not much use for you to tell him to take it easy for a couple of days?"
Viggo snorted. "I've already tried that. He doesn't take orders from me, and short of a direct order he'll never agree to rest."
Peter sighed. "Guess I'll have to pull rank on him, then. I'll have him checked out. Thanks for your opinion."
Cast and crew were reassembling at the set. The Brit was among the last to arrive and was stopped in his tracks by Peter. "Sean, can I have a word with you, please?"
Viggo watched the director talk to Sean and resignedly shook his head at the enraged look on the other actor's face. In an attempt to soothe, Peter reached for Sean's sleeve, but the Brit shook himself loose and stomped off, shooting a murderous glare in Viggo's direction.
He had no time to ponder Sean's rage as Peter immediately called them back to business. "All right, everybody, we have a slight change in plans. We'll leave the fight scene against the watcher for later, and concentrate on the reaction shots of the remaining Fellowship now. That means that some of you need to have their make-up altered..."
An hour later, Peter drew Viggo aside and asked if he could find out the set medic's verdict on Sean.
The Dane was greeted with reserve. Apparently, Sean had again lived up to his bad reputation.
The medic shrugged. "I inquired about his
symptoms, took his temperature and sent him home after strongly recommending that he see a doctor. It's probably cystitis, no big deal, should be fine after a few days rest, keeping warm, and antibiotics. He didn't like it, though. I'm just glad that he is not some maniac who always carries his sword along..." Viggo coughed discretely, thanked him, and left.
After reporting to Peter, he went back to work, relieved that Sean was taken care of. Viggo didn't worry about the Brit's temper; by the time they'd have finished shooting, Sean would have cooled down. Besides, his blond lover was always mellower in private than in public.
"Quiet on set!" Peter glanced at Viggo. "You ready?"
Aragorn nodded.
"Action!"
Sean's car was parked in front of their house when Viggo arrived. All the lights were off and he was greeted by silence. He found Sean in bed, fast asleep. Good. It appeared that his hot-headed lover had finally come to his senses.
Not wishing to disturb the Brit's sleep right now, Viggo closed the bedroom door and went downstairs to the kitchen. After preparing a light meal consisting of salad and soup, he returned to the bedroom, where he found Sean thrashing and moaning in his sleep. Viggo sat down on the bed and reached out to gently wake him up.
The blond's face was flushed when he opened his eyes, startled by Viggo's presence. "How come you're here already? I must have nodded off..."
Viggo laughed. "You had a good long nap then. We've wrapped for today and I've been here for an hour. I've got dinner ready downstairs, so why don't you get up and join me? And then you can tell me what the doc said."
The moment he had said it, Viggo knew that something was wrong. The blond wouldn't meet his eyes. "Sean, you went to see the doctor... don't tell me you didn't!"
"I'm fine! I was just tired and chilled through, needed to sleep it off...!"
"Stop giving me that crap! You're burning up!" Viggo laid a hand on the other man's forehead and withdrew it in alarm. He got up and headed for the bathroom.
When Sean saw Viggo come back with a thermometer in his hand, he sat up and turned away. The Dane decided that he'd had enough.
"Now, listen here, Sean... if you won't take your temperature, I will, and you're not going to enjoy it." The men glared at each other. Finally, Sean dropped his eyes. Muttering under his breath, he accepted the thermometer from Viggo and put it into his mouth. After five minutes Viggo snatched it out of his hands and Sean swore.
"Don't treat me like a child, Vig."
"Then stop behaving like one!" Viggo checked the thermometer and frowned. "You have a 103 temperature. I'm serious, luv, you're ill, whether you like it or not."
Sean rubbed his temple and sighed in resignation. "Will you shut up if I promise to see that quack tomorrow?"
"No excuses? Even if you think you feel better?" The Dane ran his hand through his lover's sweat-soaked hair.
"First thing in the morning." At Sean's reply, Viggo's stern face grew soft.
"Why don't I put our food on a tray and bring it up, so you can stay in bed?" Too exhausted to start yet another fight about being well enough to get up, Sean agreed.
After dinner they didn't linger long and settled for an early night. When Sean came back from cleaning his teeth, Viggo remarked that he must indeed be improving, as this was the first time he'd been to the bathroom since the Dane had returned a few hours ago. The blond gave a self-conscious shrug and quietly slipped between the sheets, his face turned to the wall.
Viggo switched the light off and wrapped his arms around his lover. "I'm trying not to be a pain, luv, but I'm concerned about you. Cystitis can spread to your kidneys if you don't take care of it."
"You sound like one of my ex-wives! Besides – it's so embarrassing... only women get cystitis." Sean's hand came up, searching, found Viggo's, and entwined with it.
"Don't be a dolt. You'll see the doc tomorrow, have a few days off, and everything will be fine." Viggo squeezed Sean's hand reassuringly. "Good night, luv."
"Good night, Vig."
Later that night, Viggo woke up to find the space next to him empty. Sitting up, he noticed that the bathroom lights were on. After a few minutes, the lights were turned off, and the mattress shifted under Sean's weight.
When Viggo did not feel his lover rejoin him under the blanket, he reached out, sensing that something was wrong. Sean had curled up in a fetal position, and he was shaking with fever.
"Sean, what is it?" Viggo was fully awake now, and he became increasingly alarmed to find the blond whimpering in obvious pain.
"Where does it hurt, luv?" The Dane gently rubbed the quivering shoulders in soothing circles.
"Lower back, belly, my balls... can't pee..." The Brit's voice was strained.
After wrapping the blanket tight around the shivering form, Viggo got out of bed. "Don't move, I'll be back in a minute."
He went downstairs to Sean's small study, relieved that his co-star kept his desk tidy, so that he had no trouble locating the set medic's phone number. It did not take long to explain the situation. The medic assured Viggo that he'd send a physician over within half an hour or, else, have an ambulance pick Sean up.
Back in the bedroom, Viggo held his lover, who was still shaking violently. "Hold on, luv, the doctor is on his way..."
"I'm scared, Vig," Sean said in a small voice. Viggo's heart ached. He knew how much it cost the blond to admit that, even to him. "I know, luv..." He hugged Sean tighter and rocked him gently.
The doorbell rang after what seemed to have been only a few minutes. Viggo led the doctor to their bedroom. Sean was hunched on the bed, his red-rimmed eyes burning in a flushed face, his hair drenched with sweat. Gods, he looks so young and vulnerable...
"Do you want me to stay?" Seeing Sean struggle with his need for Viggo's comfort and his embarrassment about this need made the Dane hesitate. The blond nodded, not attempting to hide the distress in his eyes.
After having introduced the doctor to Sean, Viggo sat down next to his lover and held his hand in a silent promise not to leave him alone.
An hour later, Viggo was on his way to the bedroom with a hot water bottle for Sean that he had acquired from god-knows-where. He hurt for his lover. Prostatitis was not something he'd wish on anyone, but to have Sean suffering from it – he'd make sure that the blond would stay put until he was entirely cured.
After examining Sean and confirming his suspected diagnosis, the doctor had administered a painkiller and a strong muscle relaxant, followed by antibiotics. A few minutes later, Sean had finally been able to pass water, and then he had fallen asleep almost instantly.
Not wishing to disturb his sick lover, Viggo had led the doctor downstairs to ask for further instructions.
"Keep him warm and make sure that he takes his medication; we don't want this to become chronic. I'll inform your director that he won't be able to work for a few days."
"What about, uh, his love life?" Viggo had to know.
"He can have sex when he wants to. It might even improve his condition because it flushes the prostate fluid out, but it may be painful. Since there are bacteria involved, however, I strongly recommend the use of condoms." He hesitated. "Are you also asking on behalf of yourself?"
Viggo replied, "I'm his lover. Why? Does it matter?"
"It might. An inflamed prostate can be excruciating and he may not want to have it touched."
Sean had shuddered when Viggo had mentioned this the next morning. "That's the understatement of the year!"
Only too well did the Dane remember his lover's agonised cries during the examination, and he embraced the blond and pulled him close to expel the memory.
With a soft sigh, Sean leaned into the hug. Despite the medication he was still in pain and felt very sore. Having been supposed to film a scene with Viggo this morning, he was glad that Peter had told the Dane to stay home until they had changed the schedule. This wouldn't take long, but for now he took comfort in his lover's presence, and he promptly fell into an exhausted sleep again.
"So, when do we start your therapy?"
"Huh?" Sean lifted his chin from Viggo's chest and gave his lover a questioning look.
It was the early evening of the same day. The blond was still feverish and needed a pillow under his hips to lie comfortably, but he looked much better. Of course, anything was an improvement after the last night, and having spent most of the day in Viggo's arms had also helped a lot.
With a grin, the Dane explained the doctor's 'suggestion' of flushing the infection out.
Sean's whole lower body was throbbing in a dull ache and he was not sure that sex would be such a good idea right now. On the other hand, lying cuddled up against Viggo all day had stirred his desire. And, however weird this sounded, if it might even improve his healing... He decided to give it a try.
Seeing his lover's eyes darken with longing, Viggo engaged him in a tender kiss. Sean returned the kiss and gave himself over to the Dane, trusting him to read his signals.
Knowing that Sean was over-sensitive, Viggo began to gently seduce him by caressing his chest, and then his belly. When his hand reached the tentative erection, he used only his fingers to softly brush the tip.
Sean tensed for a moment when he felt the hand on his cock, but immediately relaxed into the feather-light touches. The Dane took a long time fondling the crown with his tender strokes, before he carefully peeled the foreskin down and unveiled the head. Sean's soft gasps told him that his ministrations were highly appreciated.
Viggo's thumb hovered over the tiny slit, barely grazing it to spread a bead of pre-cum that had formed there. Covering the head in soothing, circular movements, the Dane noticed the almost imperceptible shivers running through Sean when he gently rubbed over the frenulum, the delicate small triangle of skin where the foreskin met the crown.
The shivers increased when his fingers glided over the ridge separating the head from the shaft. Sean's breathing hitched, and Viggo knew instinctively that this was from pleasure, not pain. He decided to keep his caresses light and confined to the head to ensure he would not hurt his lover.
Sean was getting more and more aroused. While their love-making had never lacked for variation, he had never experienced this level of tenderness before, not even with Viggo, who was by far the most skilled lover he had ever had.
However, with his growing arousal, the blond became aware that the dull pain in his balls was increasing when they grew heavier. Viggo, fine-tuned to recognise the most subtle response in his lover, reacted immediately.
Carefully cupping the sac with the sore and swollen glands, he lifted them slightly and thus reduced the pressure. Sean's soft sigh indicated his relief, and the Dane continued to fondle the blond's cock head lovingly.
Wishing to intensify the close contact to his lover, Sean clung to Viggo, who could thus perceive even the slightest nuances of the blond's sensations. When the Dane felt the faint shivers of Sean's abdominal muscles getting stronger, he knew that the other man was close.
Soft moans accompanied the movements of his hand as he concentrated on gently massaging and working the foreskin over the rim of the crown in a slow but steady motion. The Brit's grip on him grew tighter, and his whole body trembled until he finally released with a choked cry.
The hoarse cries turned to pained sobs while Viggo held him through the aftershocks. Sean clutched at him in desperate need, and Viggo hugged him close, offering comfort.
It was only later when the Dane reached for a towel to wipe the cum off Sean's belly that he noticed the thick, viscous, almost gelatinous consistency of the dark rust-coloured spunk. No wonder it had hurt to force this gunge through the urethra! The tiny slit looked raw, too.
He suggested to Sean that they ease off, while he cleaned him carefully. Maybe they should have waited for a few days.
When he had finished, Viggo lay down on the bed next to his lover and took his hands. Sean looked at him and smiled. "It will get better, Vig."
The Dane kissed him and nodded. "I know." He opened his arms to Sean.
With a yawn, the blond relaxed into the embrace. Despite the pain, he felt secure. He would mend.
The next days had Sean improving rapidly, and he was impatient to finally be allowed out of bed. But Viggo was determined not to let him get up before he was totally healed. He tried to keep his sick lover occupied, read him books, and administered 'therapy'. Both men grew to tremendously enjoy this gentle variant of making love that was rather new to them, especially when the pain had left.
However, there were limits to Sean's endurance. After a few days he couldn't take it anymore. When Viggo tried to coax him back into bed, all he got in reply was a familiar growl.
The Dane grinned, knowing that Sean was definitely on the mend. He was relieved, and couldn't resist teasing his lover. "It's a shame, really, that you're getting better. I liked you all muzzy and sweet..."
To his surprise, Sean gently cupped his face and placed a tender kiss on his lips. "We can always have that. Thank you for putting up with me, and for – showing me this..."
Their concentration swiftly turned to a more rewarding subject.
A week later, while they were waiting to have the make-up removed after finishing the watcher scene, Viggo remarked innocently to Sean that his manliness was restored now.
"Wha-?"
"Well, you sounded embarrassed a while ago when you told me that only women suffer from bladder infections. Prostatitis, however..."
The towel hit him before he could finish his sentence.
Summary: Real men don't get sick.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 3480 Read: 1046
Published: 06 Aug 2009 Updated: 06 Aug 2009