1. Baked Bean on Toast
It had been long enough since Sean had smoked a joint that he'd forgotten how it affected him. He was feeling very mellow, but apt to say the first thing that came to mind, all his censors off.
Well, maybe not all. He was about to tell Vig exactly how he felt about him when he realized that they were both too stoned to do anything about it.
So he sank back into the couch, drifting on the feeling of Viggo's arm around his shoulders.
"Y'know, Vig, something important I should tell you."
"Yeah?" Viggo's usual drawl was drawn out and nearly unintelligible. Of course, so was Sean's. It was likely a measure of their friendship that they understood each other perfectly.
"I..uh...yeah." He drifted for a moment. "Oh yeah... Vig, I love... toast. I really, really love toast."
"Yeah?" Viggo smiled blissfully. "Yeah, toast is good. I like toast."
"No, I mean, I love toast. With jam. And peanut butter. It's just... perfect, you know."
"Mmm," Viggo murmured. "You know what, Sean? I like toast, but I love you."
"Yeah. I love you more than toast, Vig." Ohhh shit... "Did I say that?"
"Yeah, you did. Think you'll remember it in the morning?"
"Feed me toast and maybe I will."
"OK. Sean, you mind if I sleep on you?"
"Nope. 'M sleepy too."
"Good. G'night, Sean."
"G'night Viggo. Still love toast."
"Still love you, Bean."
2. The Morning After...
When Viggo woke up his back hurt like a sonofabitch and his mouth tasted like something had died in it. Oddly enough, however, his head didn't hurt and really it should have given that his pillow was....
Breathing. His pillow was breathing, which meant that either he'd ended up doing acid last night in addition to smoking the jay he'd gotten from Dom, or....
His pillow snorted and then squirmed, and it was pretty obvious that this was not his beautiful pillow because his linens, while perfectly nice, weren't made of the thinnest, softest t-shirt knit possible. And, sadly enough, they sure as hell didn't smell like Sean Bean.
"Water," Sean mumbled. He groaned a little and Viggo felt the groan against his cheekbone. "Fucking parched."
"Hang on," Viggo said, sitting up reluctantly. He looked around the living room, noticing the two chip bags and three packages of cookies scattered about. Luckily, there was also a mostly full bottle of water and he snagged it and handed it to Sean before settling back down with his head on Sean's chest.
There was no way in hell that listening to someone guzzle water this up close and personal could possibly be erotic or even, God help him, romantic, and yet.... Fuck but I'm gone on him.
"Feel better," he asked as Sean tossed aside the now empty bottle.
"Yeah," Sean said, sounding almost hesitant. He took a very deep breath and then his hand came to rest very lightly on Viggo's hair. "Tell me how you feel about toast and I might feel even better."
"Mmmmmmm," Viggo hummed, the words and the touch filling him with contentment. "I like toast," he said, and then turned to look up at Sean. "But I love you."
3. Viggo-Logic
He hated being away from Viggo, especially now when they were just starting to be *together*. Absence made the heart hurt, that was certain. Trust Viggo to know, and to send him letters.
And then came the one he couldn't help but keep...
Sean,
You mentioned once that you could never figure out my Viggo-logic. Maybe this will help:
Sean + toast=love
Sean + Viggo=love
Therefore, Viggo=toast.
Eat me? With jam? Not peanut butter, though, it's too difficult to remove...
Love,
Viggo.
Sean would never look at toast the same way again, that was for sure. He folded the letter in quarters, stuck it in his wallet, and went to call Viggo--and reminded himself to get some jam at the market before he went back.
4. Jam Today
Touching reunions in airports were, alas, not for them. This was something Sean knew, but it still made him sigh as he manhandled his luggage through customs, hoping like hell he didn't get singled out for a random search. There were things in his bag that would have been hard to explain, and so he was very happy to get through the line with only a "welcome to Los Angeles, Mr. Bean," from the woman who stamped his visa after giving him a somewhat lingering once over.
His face just a little warm, Sean was glad to find his driver and once they reached the car, Sean settled in the back of the car, grateful for a flight that arrived at one of those rare times when the LA traffic actually moved. He only meant to close his eyes, but, by the time the car pulled up in front of Viggo's place, he was sound asleep.
"Inside," Viggo said, dealing with the driver and the luggage. After kissing Sean enthusiastically, he pointed to the stairs. "Bathroom. Take a shower and drink all the bottle of water that's in there." He kissed Sean again and then pushed him gently toward the stairs.
Immeasurably grateful for an understanding lover who had a lifetime of travel experience behind him, Sean took his time in the shower. When he stuck his head out every once in a while to drink some of the water Viggo had left for him, he heard Viggo puttering around in the bedroom, but when he was finally done, there was nothing but silence.
As he made his way into the bedroom, drying himself off with a towel, he paused at the sight of Viggo staring at one of Sean's open suitcases. "Er...." Sean began and then he trailed off as Viggo gave a truly wicked laugh.
"Sean?" Viggo finally said. "You can get jam here in the US."
"This is different," Sean said, his face heating up a little. "I bought all this specifically to test on you...see which one worked best." Viggo began to laugh again and Sean frowned. "What?"
Viggo quickly crossed the room to wrap his arms around Sean's waist. "You know what they say about great minds?" He chuckled again when Sean nodded. "I have...oh...at least a dozen jars of jam and jelly in the cupboard down stairs."
5. Jam Tomorrow
It was a good thing they had a lot of jamthat way Sean could try different tastes on Viggo, see what tasted best and where.
Sean discovered several things:
The tip of Viggo's nose tasted best with grape jam. His chin, though, contrary to those old photos, was definitely for orange marmalade, and his lips begged for something tartkeffir lime curd, maybe.
Seedless raspberry made lovely stripes down Viggo's chest, and Nutella (which Sean had snuck into his suitcase, figuring hey, it was good on toast, it would be good on Viggohe was right about that) was perfect for painting tight hard nipples. Lemon curd balanced salty and sour and sweet when licked off a sweating abdomen, drawn tight with teasing.
Blackberry, with its dark, slightly earthy taste, was for hidden crevicesthough Viggo had insisted on seedless "if that's going where I think it is. Do you know how hard blackberry seeds are to get out of one's nooks and crannies?" Oh, but they were tasty nooks and crannies, made even tastier with blackberry jam.
Sean had even found honey in Viggo's pantry, and swirled thick squiggles through the jam, creating odd flowing patterns. Honey and jam and Viggo... what more did one need?
"Oh! Y'know, there's one thing we haven't tried on toast... butter."
Viggo grinned. "That's because I'm saving the butter for an entirely different purpose."
"Oh are you?"
"Yep--hot buttered Sean. Goes well with jam... and Viggo. Very well, in fact."
Which they then proceeded to prove. Buttered Sean goes very well on Viggo, and in Viggo...
Lying in a sticky, sated heap afterwards, Sean licked a long stripe up Viggo's jam, butter, and cream-covered chest. "Mmm. Problem is, I can't decide which I like best."
Viggo grinned, tiredly but wickedly all the same. "Well then you'll just have to do it all over again. And just remember--I haven't tried you with jam yet."
Sean grinned, and reached for the Nutella. "No time like the present, hey?"
Summary: Baked Bean, toast, jam, and Viggo-logic.
Rated: PG-13
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 1396 Read: 1038
Published: 07 Aug 2009 Updated: 07 Aug 2009