The inside of the trailer was one huge mess. Once again.

Viggo seemed to believe that the trailer was a natural extension of the studio he had set up at home and had gotten into the habit of scattering his stuff around, covering every available surface, as if this was indeed his own private space, and the others just visitors at a gallery exhibition.

Ok. Sean tried taking a deep, supposedly calming, breath.

He was ok with the dirty mugs, those were a standard fixture in the trailers of every set he'd been on. He was ok with the clothes strewn about, another standard fixture and one he contributed to.

What he really couldn't stand was the artsy stuff. Photos and sketches taped everywhere on the walls and on the make-up mirrors. Scraps of papers with nonsense ramblings and snippets of poetry strewn all around.

He was sick and tired of this. He couldn't stand looking at himself in the mirror and seeing his face framed in other faces. Faces staring at him. Curious, anguished, mocking, questioning, empty faces... distracting him when he needed to concentrate, invading that very personal space that was the mirror. Uninvited spectators to the private and painful process that was the daily transformation from Sean into Boromir and, on good days, from Boromir back into Sean.

And the poetry... He was tired of the constant bending down to retrieve from the floor the scraps of paper that fluttered away like autumn leaves every time he moved around the trailer. Covered in words that he couldn't help reading every time he picked up one of those leaves, words that increased his frustration every time he read them and failed once again to understand what Viggo was thinking and feeling, what he was trying to say, who he was. Stream of consciousness they called it.. Well, then Sean's consciousness was speaking a different language from Viggo's. And that hurt more than his battered back did.

He hated all this stuff Viggo was constantly toying with, the way he spent all time off writing, painting, working with his camera, shutting out everyone from his attention. Time when they could have been doing things together, getting to know each other better..

Ok. At a certain level he knew he was being an unreasonable, short-tempered jerk, but it had been a taxing day for Boromir and whatever margin of tolerance Sean had left had been gnawed bit by bit until nothing remained. Rage whistled in his ears and his hands started moving.

***

When Viggo walked into the trailer he stood transfixed.

It looked like a tornado had swept through it, ripping every picture from the walls, sweeping every piece of paper from the counters. He warily eyed Sean, who stood in the middle of the wreckage, still panting and wild-eyed. He took in the rigid carriage of his shoulders, the lines of tension and fatigue etched deep on his handsome face, making him look, older, harsher, alien almost. He saw a man driven to the limit. He couldn't guess what had pushed Sean so far off his track, but he could try to do something to bring him back.

He took a few more steps inside, his feet shuffling among the debris on the floor, kicking the papers around as one would when talking a walk on a path covered in dead autumn leaves.

"You look like you're awfully tense, you know.." Viggo commented blandly.

Really? Now, that's a surprise.. and the chaos you keep creating in this trailer is doing wonders for my peace of mind.. The retort was almost on Sean's lips, but he managed to hold it back. The anger was ebbing away now. Coming from anyone else, Viggo's comment would have felt like deliberate mockery, but Sean knew that coming from Viggo it was cluelessly sincere. Viggo may have a lot of character flaws, untidiness being one of them, but there was no malice in him, ever. And the urge to snap back faded.

While these thoughts were making their way through Sean's mind, a concerned Viggo had walked up to Sean until he stood very close, invading his personal space much the way that his photos and his papers had done, but somehow this did not bother Sean the way those things did. Maybe because right now Viggo wasn't feeling cold and strange to him, the way Viggo's art felt.

Sean could feel the heat radiating from Viggo's body, mere inches away. The smell of leather and sweat coming from him. The tingling where Viggo's fingertips had began moving up and down along Sean's arms, from shoulder to elbow and back.

That simple movement felt awfully good, even through the layer of clothes. Calming and hypnotic, but at the same time electric, as if energy crackled through Viggo's fingertips and went to recharge exhausted batteries deep inside Sean.

Sean's stony stance slowly relaxed, like something deep-frozen left out in the sun to thaw. Viggo carefully checked the progress, every minute muscle unclenching in the other man's body feeling like a victory. He liked Sean, he'd really love to get to know him better, much better actually and on a very personal plane too, but Sean, though friendly, always acted so very rigid with him, as if they'd carved him out of stone and no crack should ever be allowed to show. But today he'd cracked, and Viggo wanted to see what was behind the stone facade, wanted to get inside. Wasting such an opportunity would be like spurning a gift from the Valar, Viggo thought, while the rhythmic path traced by his fingertips lengthened, now going from Sean's elbows up to his nape.

"You're all badly knotted up here," he commented, as Sean slightly bent his head forward to allow him better access and grunted as Viggo hit a particularly painful muscle. "And your back must be even worse off. You should probably get someone professional to work on it."

"Don't want any stranger working on me," Sean mumbled, tensing up again for a moment, "and you're doing just fine. Don't stop." He looked up a moment, his eyes meeting Viggo's. "Please.."

Viggo offered a silent prayer of thanks for this gift of trust, unexpected after Sean's outburst of anger. He couldn't help wondering what had triggered that, but it seemed to have helped Sean vent part of the feelings he always kept bottled inside behind the stone mask. A door had been opened and he decided to risk taking a further step inside.

"You know," he remarked, "this would work much better if you could lie down. I can't work properly on your back while you're standing up. And you should probably take that tunic off. Pity this isn't the best place to do this.. And Orlando will be here soon.."

The expression that briefly flashed across Sean's face was too fleeting for Viggo to really decipher. Had he really seemed disappointed, he wondered? Or was that just a bit of wishful thinking on his part?

"Well, there's always the couch," Sean offered, his eyes looking pleadingly at Viggo, "it won't be the ideal thing but it might do. And as for Orli, we can always lock him out. He won't mind, he will probably think it's some kind of huge joke and rush over to the hobbits'. I mean, if you feel like doing this, of course," he added quickly. "I'd really appreciate if you would, you know. I think it would be a great help."

"All right. Then get that tunic off, Sean, and lie down. I'll see to the door. We'll tell Orli the door got stuck." Viggo frowned concerned as Sean's body twisted under his hands in a queer movement, probably seized by a cramping muscle, and he pushed him gently towards the couch.

***

Sean was quite surprised at how quickly the anger and the resentment that had felt like they had swallowed him up whole melted away once Viggo was there by his side, all enveloping heat and soothing fingers.

Viggo's presence made all the photos and poetry fade into nothingness, his warmth dispelling their cold alienness. With him there, Sean didn't need anymore to go searching for Viggo inside those things he wasn't able to relate to.

He tried to stifle the contented sigh that was bubbling up his throat, afraid Viggo might take it as a signal that all was well now and that his ministrations were not necessary anymore. He let out a half-grunt instead, as Viggo reached a highly sensitive spot at the base of his neck that sent a shiver down his spine. He swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to calm down and to catch what Viggo had been saying.

A professional ? No. He didn't need any professional. He didn't want any professional. He already had all he wanted. Well, almost.. He indulged for a moment in a private fantasy in which the things Viggo was doing right now were followed by other things, lots of interesting other things, and again he almost missed Viggo's words.

Lying down? Tunic off? This sounded awfully good. Another step along the path of his fantasy... Not the right place? Orli coming soon? No way that Sean was going to let anything or anyone steal his moment with Viggo

He looked up at Viggo, and for a moment considered trying that puppy-eye trick that always seemed to get Orli and Elijah anything and anyone they wanted. But he was afraid of making a laughing stock of himself, so, feeling very much like the snake offering the apple, he just suggested that the couch would be an acceptable solution and locked Orli out of the trailer with no more than a mental shrug of apology.

He almost bounced when Viggo agreed to his suggestions, then remembered that officially his back was killing him and mid-bounce converted the movement into a fake cramp.

It seemed to work, he congratulated himself, as Viggo pushed him towards the couch…

***

This was good, Sean thought, basking in the touch of Viggo's hands working his back and feeling very much like a cat back from a fight in the alley, ruffled fur being smoothed down under a soothing caress.

This was good, Viggo thought, thanking his lucky star and wondering what he'd done right to deserve this gift, to have Sean -I'll break but I'll never bend- Bean purring like a contented kitty under his hands.

"Are you feeling any better now?" Viggo asked, bending down to whisper the question in Sean's ear, his bottom lip so close to Sean's earlobe it felt like a touch even though there was still a hair breadth's distance between the two.

Sean turned his head slightly, making sure his ear brushed against Viggo's lips.

"Depends.. It feels already a bit better, but I think it could get… more better…"

"Anything I can do to help make it… more better, as you say?"

"I have a few ideas, let me show you," Sean replied, taking Viggo's head between his hands and dragging him close for a kiss.

"I think I have the general idea now.. Let me see if I have it right as to the details…" Viggo mouthed against Sean's lips.

Settled on his haunches on the floor beside the couch, Viggo admired Sean's body, displayed before him like a tasty banquet ready to be eaten. He put one hand on Sean's thigh and sent the other to roam his bare chest, pinching here, tickling there, drawing patterns with a nail now and then.

He bent down, like a worshipper at a shrine, and locked his mouth on Sean's nearest nipple, his hand now having to exercise some pressure on Sean's thigh to hold him still.

Viggo lifted his head after a while, making sure his stubble brushed tantalizing over Sean's skin, and settled back."Is the .. more better coming along?" he inquired solicitously, a wicked grin on his face as he looked at Sean, eyes shut, teeth sunk in his bottom lip.

Eyelids opened on eyes gone a deep forest color as Sean took a shaking breath."Yes, god, Viggo, yes."

"Mmmhh, good, it is good to see one's efforts appreciated. But maybe there's still room for further improvement. What do you say Sean.. do you feel up to another attempt at.. more better?" Viggo asked, one hand toying with the hair nestled in Sean's armpit and the other with the leather laces of Boromir's pants.

"I don't know if I'll be able to survive through some of your efforts, but I know I'd regret it for my all life if I didn't try. Go ahead, kill me.."

Viggo rose from the side of the couch and worked the boots and Boromir pants off Sean. Then stood admiring the sight until Sean started to flush and squirm.

"Are going to do something or are you just window shopping?" Sean asked, sounding a bit pissed.

Viggo laughed out loud. "Don't worry Sean, I'm definitely shopping, I just don't know if I can afford what I've set my eye on.." He slowly started to take his Aragorn garb off, making a bit of a show as each piece came off, eyes locked with Sean's.

"Quit worrying that lip, don't damage the goods or I'll make you regret it," Viggo admonished Sean.

Sean stuck out his tongue at Viggo but stopped biting his lip.

"Good, that's the idea," Viggo remarked as he got some lotion from the make up counter and rummaged in a drawer before he joined Sean on the couch.

***

Sweat. Skin on skin sinking in the cradle of the too-soft couch. Sean's legs lifted to make room for Viggo. Sean's hands gripping Viggo's ass. Nails biting into flesh. Viggo's hands gripping the armrest, anchoring them both. The movements short and jerky. A starbust in the cramped microcosm of a couch.

***

"So are you ok now? You've destroyed my photos, you've destroyed my papers and now you've almost given me a heart attack. If your .. more better.. requires more than that I'm afraid I'll have to give you up.. you'd be too dear for my possessing." Viggo had gone back to stroking his purring kitty while saying so.

"I'm sorry Viggo, I shouldn't have ripped out all your stuff, but I felt it was jeering at me, keeping you from me. It was like a gap between us, one I would never manage to cross. And I was never in your pictures, in your poetry, it was always the others."

"Yes Sean, it was always the others, because with you it was the real thing or nothing. I didn't want pictures of you, I didn't want to write about you.. I couldn't settle for anything less than you. And I have you now." The embrace had tightened to almost painfulness but Sean didn't complain, he returned it as tightly as Viggo resumed speaking."So, I'm still waiting you know.. How was the ...more better?"

"Good, fantastic, magnificent.. but there's still room I think. Give me a larger playground and I think I'll be able to bring some improvements of my own to the game."

"It's a deal," replied Viggo with a grin, "and maybe we'll also have more privacy," he commented as the loud battering on the trailer door that they'd both been ignoring for quite a while resumed.