88~~88
Their meeting was coincidental; one of those rare moments where the tumblers of luck or fate or whatever else one believed in lined up and unlocked the perfect set of circumstances. Same hotel, same day, same moment. Sean was all smiles, and a warm hug and wide grin from the blond in the middle of the hotel lobby totally rearranged Viggo’s plans for the day. A sudden flush of happiness, and warmth, rose in Viggo, brushed him from the inside out with a whisper of heat.
The hotel boasted a spacious bar, one side of which that opened out onto the outdoor pool deck. Down a short flight of steps a stone tiled patio spilled down poolside, dotted with tables and chairs, and Viggo followed Sean outside to one, an umbrella shielded spot near the glittering kidney bean shaped pool. It was bright, mid-afternoon, and he was glad when Sean dropped his sunglass on the glass tabletop, instead of hiding his green eyes behind the dark shades. Conversation, as so often had, came easily, and eventually turned to their former cast mates.
“Heard from Dave last week,” Sean mentioned as he slipped a napkin under his glass, beaded with condensation.
“Yeah? How’s he doing?” Viggo asked, and his eyes tracked the path Sean’s fingers took as they carded through longish hair.
“The mad git. Rang me up at one in the morning on a Sunday to tell me he and Karl are back together . . . and to remind me that he’s still the younger, much better looking brother.”
Sean’s laughing eyes robbed his words of any true censure of his ‘brother’. Viggo smiled to himself. The news about Dave and Karl didn’t surprise him, those two were on and off more often than the kitchen faucet, but about who was better looking, well . . . “You look pretty fucking good to me.”
“Say again?”
Viggo’s head snapped up. He’d muttered the words, and hadn’t noticed just how close they sat, side by side. He was pretty sure they hadn’t started out the conversation in such close proximity. “Hm?”
Sean regarded Viggo intently for a moment, then glanced away as the waiter appeared with the check, their moment disturbed. The ambient noise from the bar suddenly seemed louder, the warm afternoon, warmer. Viggo wiped his fingers, wet from his own sweating glass, on his jean-clad thighs and reached for the bill. “This one’s on me.”
“Shove off,” Sean countered and reached for it, too. He wrapped his long slender fingers around Viggo’s wrist when the other man would have pulled it out of reach. “Lemme pay.”
They froze, a mutual inaction, and Viggo stared into Sean’s eyes. “Imagine,” he said slowly, “Karl and Dave, back together, still going at it after all this time. Wonder if they’re as bad as us.”
Viggo meant to be funny, or something, and Sean didn’t laugh, but just tightened his grip and replied softly, “Yeah, imagine.”
Viggo nodded, and then decided to hell with it. He turned his arm so his fingers could stroke against the smooth skin of Sean’s naked wrist. “You know exactly what I said, don’t you?”
Sean stared a second, swallowed visibly, nodded. The warm, hopeful, almost shy expression in his eyes fueled Viggo’s courage. It helped too, that Sean hadn’t pulled his hand away.
“Then you must know . . . god, I want you, Sean, so fucking much. Think I always have.”
A shallow breeze stirred the water of the pool, and the sun’s reflected light glimmered against Sean’s face as bright ripples. Viggo mused that if he’d just fucked everything up at least he had a convenient place nearby in which to drown himself. Doing just that became a distinct possibility as Sean eased his hand away, fingers sliding over Viggo’s palm in a caress that was surely accidental.
“Christ,” Sean said softly, and glanced around. After a quick, measured look, his gaze returned to Viggo, and a world of promise waited in those gorgeous green eyes. “I’m in room 402, you needn’t knock.” He stood, grinned down at Viggo and said before walking away, “Wonder what me little brother will have to say about this lot.”
Viggo fished out a couple twenties from his pocket, dropped the money absently on the table, his gaze glued to Sean. Viggo took in the broad shoulders, the slender waist . . . that delicious ass . . . as Sean navigated a path between the tables. The sun turned Sean’s blond hair golden before he disappeared inside, and in that moment Viggo ached. He licked his lips, and stood to follow Sean indoors, and upstairs.
Sean. His Sean, finally.
What would Dave think? “I can only imagine,” Viggo said aloud with a smile, and set off.
The waiter that lingered a discrete distance away returned to the table and moved the chairs back to their original positions. He gathered up the empty glasses, sodden napkins and pocketed the money before the breeze could float it off the tabletop. The young man shook his head, smiled wistfully. “Actors,” he muttered, and moved off, imagination shifted into overdrive, and suddenly the afternoon seemed a lot warmer, and just a bit less boring.
Summary: A coincidental meeting, one of those rare moments
Rated: R
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 902 Read: 892
Published: 30 Jul 2009 Updated: 30 Jul 2009