What a day.
Sean couldn't quite remember ever being as tired before in his life. Everything ached: his head, his shoulders, his back, parts of him he didn't even know existed ached. He wondered if he could just eat his takeout here and then curl up and sleep in the garden, because climbing the front steps to the door required too much effort. He hurt just looking at them, and his legs - his poor, aching, ancient legs - protested feebly.
But climb them he did, all three, and stood at the door for a moment, fumbling with his keys. God, even his fingers hurt - but that was because one of the hobbits had trampled on them in a general stampede for lunch, and for such little buggers, they weighed a ton. Sean sighed, forced himself to concentrate on getting the key into the lock, and sighed again as the lock clicked and the knob turned. He looked down to double-check his wallet and the takeout bag and put his keys back and...
Pow!
The door flew violently open, banging against its hinges, and Sean had the briefest impression of manic blue eyes and wild blond hair coming at him as though shot from a cannon. The moment he had to get the hell out of the way he spent in shock, frozen like a deer in the headlights.
"Vig-Oooomph!"
Fucking second time this week! He had time to think that, as Viggo's spring-loaded body carried them back through the door, flying over the steps, and down into the grass, perilously close to the front walk. What breath Sean had left in him left in a whooosh! as the impact drove air from his lungs. They somersaulted, rolled inelegantly, once, twice, and ended up with Viggo on top, pressing Sean back into the dirt (the wet, nasty dirt, because of course it had rained) with his weight and a fierce kiss applied directly to Sean's lips.
After a moment, during which Sean was still trying to process how he'd been rugbytackled again, Viggo broke the kiss and leaned back, studying him, and that disturbing glint in his eyes was now entirely too triumphant for Sean's liking.
"Hey," Viggo said brightly. "How are you feeling?"
"In pain," Sean murmured faintly, once he had breath to speak. Did he still have feeling below his neck? Yes, he did. Unfortunately. "In very great pain."
"Poor boy." Viggo didn't sound particularly sympathetic. "How was your day?"
"Agony."
"Aw."
They sat there for a moment, Viggo astride Sean's chest, looking down at him. Sean became painfully aware of cold, damp earth between his shoulder blades. There was probably mud in his hair, and he very likely had a cracked vertebra or two. He wished he did, because then he'd be in hospital for months, no ambush-style rugbytackles in sight, no hobbits crunching his fingers, Viggo waiting on him and and foot...
"That was the second time this week," Viggo said, breaking into Sean's fantasy.
"I know." Sean sighed, tried to move, sighed again when Viggo didn't budge. He imagined Viggo lurking in the dark front hall, crouching in shadows, waiting to spring. "Why do you do that?" he asked plaintively. "It takes years off my life."
"Must be in the genes. Besides, fear is good for you. Keeps the reflexes sharp." Viggo cackled victoriously and bent down for a quick kiss. "You should have seen your face, he remarked, lips brushing against Sean's. A fringe of blond hair tickled Sean's cheek, his lashes. "Priceless. Utterly fucking priceless."
"So fucking happy I amuse you," Sean grunted and shifted again. "Goddammit, you weigh a ton."
"Wuss."
"You try having a fucking crazy-arsed American rugbytackle you on a daily basis and see how you like it, mate," Sean grumbled.
"It's hardly a daily basis, Sean." Viggo did a creditable job of wounded indignation. Sean rolled his eyes, a gesture Viggo caught immediately. "But if you don't like me anymore..." he trailed off forlornly, and gazed into the distance with the most woebegone expression he could muster.
"Damn it, Vig, I'm the one on the wet, bloody ground here..."
"Of course you are!" Viggo grinned, relented (finally!), and stood. He offered a hand, which was weakly accepted, and the world righted itself as he pulled Sean up. Sean watched curiously as the garden, house, and street spun for a moment before settling down into their proper places. Interesting. Viggo was watching him closely, which meant either he was plotting more villainy or else was becoming concerned, and maybe a bit repentant.
Fortunately it was the latter.
"I'll make it up to you," Viggo promised, picking up the mutilated takeout bag and peering inside. "Oh, that's a goner," he said cheerfully. Sean wilted a bit - he'd been looking forward to kung pao, damn it - but cheered up a bit when Viggo said, "Hot shower," and added with a sly look, "and I'll help you scrub your back, if you want."
"Sure, mate," Sean said nonchalantly, managing to hide his elation.
There were good sides to everything he reflected, as Viggo hauled him in the direction of the bathroom. Even getting rugbytackled.
Especially getting rugbytackled.
Summary: There are good sides to everything... even getting rugbytackled.
Rated: PG-13
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 867 Read: 942
Published: 06 Aug 2009 Updated: 06 Aug 2009