FIC: Touching, Chapter 5 (SB/VM), PG-13
Title: Touching, Chapter 5
Pairing: SB/VM
Author: shrinetolust
Rated: PG-13
Story: More of the silliness. Sean comes home. Viggo comes on strong.
Disclaimer: Don't know these lovely men, don't know what they get up to in their free time. This is all part of my overactive imagination, done with love and respect, and no harm or offense is intended. It's FICTION!!
Feedback: Yes, please. This chapter kicked my arse. Sean doesn't know what he's doing, and so neither did I. Whether that makes for the perfect writing situation or a disaster, you tell me. ~ Leave a note here or mail me at shrinetolust AT hotmail.com
Crossposted: Oh, everywhere. I am a feedback whore.
Archive: My own LJ. Others, please ask.
Notes: *gasp* Un-beta-ed, silly me. Please point out any glaring errors so I'm not embarrassed for too long!
WARNINGS: Corniness and schmoop are definite possibilities. *hides*
**BIG SQUISHY THANK YOUs to loyaldreamer for my icon...*mwah!*
**Touching: (Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4)
Sean stared at the scrap of paper in his lap and chuckled softly to himself. Thankfully the flight hadn't been all that full and he had an empty seat next to him--anyone looking over at his work would have thought him a complete nutter.
Of course he'd learned from the best. Viggo had handed him a crumpled sheet torn from a spiral notebook before Sean'd left on the plane out of New Zealand. "Just try colors, at first," Viggo had told him, looking for all the world like this was a vital piece of information for Sean's journey. "Then try descriptive adjectives, or only four letter words--whatever works."
Sean had been nervous and slightly out of it from a mixture of lack of sleep and excess of vodka the night before, and he'd stared at Viggo, uncomprehending. "What are you on about, Vig?" He always preferred being in that half-fog whenever he had to fly somewhere, but it did complicate things when he was actually forced to think about something.
But Viggo had just grinned. "Just look at it when you get on the plane. You'll understand."
Sean had nodded and patted Viggo on his chest. "Sure thing, mate. I'll call you when I'm on my way back." And with a final wave, he'd headed for the line to get through security.
Now here he was, three weeks later, on the flight back and still looking at that original piece of paper. White with pale blue lines across it, edges frayed and leaving bits of debris on Sean's twill pants. Words were scrawled across it, blotchy pen interwoven with a crisp coffee ring. The words were grouped into puzzle like formations:
Obstinant
Radiant
Lanky
Adventurous
Nervy
Determined
Original
Violet
Indigo
Green
Grey
Orange
Sean had laughed when he'd first looked at it, but hours later he'd discovered he didn't remember when the plane had taken off or how long they'd been in the air. He'd been rather proud of thinking of "aubergine" for the "A" in Orlando's name, and he'd quietly snickered through crass words that helped to spell "Dominic". Viggo the crazy bugger wasn't so crazy after all, it seemed.
But what had gotten to him, just before he'd landed, was when he'd flipped the paper over for more room to write and discovered that Viggo had done one other puzzle.
Sexy Sensible
Edible Eloquent
Adorable Artistic
Naked Naked
Sean had laughed so loud that other passengers had turned to look at him. Then his cheeks had started to burn. Naked. He thought of that conversation they'd had, when Viggo had gotten his eye busted up: Three divorces doesn't change how good you look naked. No doubt Viggo'd wanted to remind him of that little line. Cheeky bastard.
He'd stuffed the paper into his jacket pocket and there it had remained until the flight back. Not that he hadn't thought about it, in the few moments he'd had to himself, the few moments here and there when he wasn't knee-deep in legal crap, or trying not to think of his failures every time he looked at his girls.
Viggo knew how to take the piss, just like anyone else, and the words he'd written and scratched out were good for a laugh. But some little part of Sean's brain thought that maybe Viggo wasn't completely going for the joke on that one. And the words he'd chosen to replace them were not words Sean would ever have associated with himself or felt worthy of. Well, except for "naked". He smiled to himself. It almost seemed like maybe Viggo had given him this in order to try to tell him something, but maybe he was just punchy from all he'd been through and was reading way too much into it.
In any case, he'd spent a good portion of the return flight working out Viggo's name. He'd done plants, colors, cars, and women's names, which had given him a laugh or two as well. But now he was about to land, and his pen still hovered over the page. He thought and thought, then started madly scribbling. When he was done, he stared down with a grin. Not perfect, but he thought his friend would appreciate the effort.
Virile Vibrant
Irresistible Inspiring
Gorgeous Generous
Gentle Genius
Orgasmic Orgiastic
Nothing that was exactly naked, but he figured "Orgiastic" wasn't bad. After all, any time he somehow found himself in a pile-up of bodies in a restaurant or on a dance floor or in a small car with the entire cast, Viggo always seemed to be right in the middle of it. And the man sexualized everything...he had the filthiest mind of anyone, not that the Hobbits were very far behind. Sean had resigned himself to spending the entire time he was in New Zealand in a permanent state of embarrassed blushing, and a constant feeling of having somehow accidentally signed up to do a big-budget porn film.
Not that he was a prude, of course. He just hadn't ever experienced so many random displays of affection, and that sort of open flirting...most of the guys on cast didn't care if you were a bird or a bloke. That had taken some getting used to. But he thought he was learning to cope all right. The day he'd left, Orlando had cautiously offered a handshake, but Sean had taken Viggo's advice and pulled the kid into a hug. Once the Hobbits discovered that Orlando wasn't getting his ribs crushed, the Hobbits jumped in to get their share. One minute later and Sean was lying on the ground, spread-eagled, underneath a pile of squirmy Elf and Hobbits whose collective weight turned out to be substantial enough to knock the breath out of his lungs.
Wheezing softly, he'd stared upwards as Viggo's face appeared upside-down over his own. Viggo was on all fours, his soft brown hair fluttering around in the cool breeze, his eyes cast in shadow. His crooked grin was obvious, though, even from that angle. "We'll miss you," Viggo chuckled, leaning down and pressing a wet kiss to the bridge of Sean's nose. And then all the others had chimed in, and Sean had this collage of crazy faces above him, smiling and begging him to come back soon.
Sean chuckled at the memory. Perhaps he should go back to handshakes, rather than risk getting crushed again. He folded the sheet of words up and returned it to his pocket, for once not feeling nauseous as the plane dipped down toward the runway. He was feeling something, however. Some sort of...anticipation, he guessed. In a way this felt more like coming home than landing in England had.
The filming had continued all while he was gone, so he hadn't expected anyone would be free to pick him up at the airport. He couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed, though, when that rationale proved to be right. They'd sent a car, of course, with a decent enough bloke named Patrick at the wheel.
Patrick informed him the whole crew were on location, and he was taking him out there straightaway. "Mr. Bloom asked me to tell you that your trailer was all set up and ready for your return, sir," Patrick assured. "I'll try to get you there before it gets dark."
Sean nodded, wondering what Orlando's idea of "set up and ready" was. Had he actually washed three weeks' worth of coffee mugs and cereal bowls? Had he run a hoover over the carpet? Sean grimaced. If Viggo had anything to do with it, though, the place'd probably be booby-trapped or duct-taped or wrapped in cling film. He'd have to watch his step. He quickly began to regret his decision to wear his new Italian shoes on his first day back.
He realized as they traveled that he was wound pretty tight. The three weeks he'd been gone had been stressful and aggravating and...unpleasant, to say the least. Coming back to work was in some ways a relief, but it carried its own set of stresses. They'd done a lot of finagling to film around him, using stand-ins when they could, and shooting scenes he wasn't in. He expected it had been a pain in the arse for everyone involved and they'd be none too happy with him when he returned.
Or even worse, and that was when it hit him--even worse if it had been easy enough and they hadn't missed him at all. They'd gone out so many nights without him, now, he'd probably lost ground in the friendships he'd made. He hadn't realized how troubling that would feel to him. He always liked getting along with his costars, but he'd never before felt so much like he'd want to keep seeing this lot, even after the movie was done.
It was lucky that Patrick turned out to be a good talker, because Sean needed the distraction. It started with football, but it turned out that Patrick knew far more about gardening. The two of them were still discussing which were the best perennials for their respective home climates, when the car came to a halt at the temporary grassy car park near the LOTR trailers.
To his surprise, Viggo was sitting on the tailgate of one of the trucks and leapt to his feet when Sean got out of the car. "Vig, what're you doing here?" Sean asked.
Viggo grinned and pointed to the fading light. "Done for the day, my friend. You said you'd be back about this time, so I set myself up to wait for you. Figured you'd prefer a friendly face to a harried assistant."
Sean couldn't help grinning back. "That I do." He threw an arm around Viggo's neck and gave him a quick hug before walking towards the back of the car. "Give me a hand, then?"
Patrick was setting Sean's luggage out, and Viggo promptly picked up two of the bags. He grimaced at the weight of one of them. "Holy shit, Sean, what've you got in here?"
"Contraband," Sean said in a low voice. "Thought I'd try to win favor with everyone again by bribing them with imported presents."
Viggo's eyes were bright. "Worried we forgot about you?"
Sean started to protest, then shrugged his shoulders. "A bit, yeah." He shook hands with Patrick. "Thanks for the drive, mate. Hope I'll see you again."
"Absolutely," Patrick agreed, clutching his hand warmly. "Good night to you both, gentlemen."
"Safe drive back," Viggo told him.
"Thank you, sir." Patrick gave a friendly wave before folding himself back into the car and driving away.
"Nice bloke," Sean said as he picked up the remaining luggage and headed toward the trailers. "How've you been? Everything going all right?"
"Yeah, not too bad," Viggo answered, falling into step next to him. "Hobbits insane as always. Dom got a splinter in his foot he claimed was the size of a telephone pole but turned out to be...well, a splinter."
Sean grinned. "Nothing like getting your eye nearly knocked out of your head."
"Yeah, if you're gonna go for an injury, you've really got to go for it. None of this kid stuff."
"Looks better, by the way." Sean hitched the strap of his bag higher up on his shoulder. "How's it feeling?"
"Don't even think about it anymore. It's mostly gone, isn't it?"
"It is...only there if you really look for it."
Viggo paused and grinned. "And are you really looking?"
Sean flushed. "I've just been on two different planes for more hours than I remember. I don't know what I'm doing."
"Well, let's stop by mine and have a drink."
"We've got to drop the luggage, first, if that's all right."
Viggo shook his head. "I'm just up here. C'mon. Orli's at your place, and there's probably a Hobbit or two lying in wait for you with him. Don't you want a drink first, steel yourself for it?"
Sean had to laugh. "Good idea, that." He let Viggo lead the way and it wasn't long before they were in the living room of Viggo's trailer, with Sean's luggage taking up a good portion of the space.
Viggo moved to the kitchen and grabbed two beers from the fridge. Sean was right behind him and they ended up leaning against the counter, looking at each other and both taking a swig from their bottles at the same time.
Sean made a satisfied noise and licked his lips, savoring the flavor and the bracing zing of alcohol. Viggo'd obviously been buying proper beer. "So how's the Elf boy? Get you into any more trouble?"
"No, he's been a very good boy. Rather subdued, now that you mention it." Viggo's smile was crooked and suggestive. "I think he misses you."
Sean waved him off. "Of course he does. No one to clean up the place, now is there?"
To his surprise, Viggo laughed loudly. "Not as if you were Mr. Clean!" he sputtered.
"I'm better than he is," Sean pouted. "It's not like we live in squalor." He looked around at the debris scattered all around Viggo's place, pictures tacked up on all the walls, scraps of paper on every available surface, piles of paints and cameras and mucked up canvases everywhere. Not to mention all the clothes strewn around, including the black pair of briefs on the bathroom doorknob that Sean was trying very hard to not take notice of. "And you've no room to talk!"
"The disadvantage of not having a roommate," Viggo chuckled, taking another gulp of his beer before setting his bottle on the counter. "No one to blame."
Sean set his own beer down and then picked up a piece of cardboard that was lying next to it, where it looked as if Viggo had written poetry with jam or syrup or something food-related. "I think if you lived with twelve other people, we'd still know to blame this on you."
"My pen ran out," Viggo said, as if that explained everything. He then snatched the cardboard and tossed it to the side. Reaching for it had brought him closer to Sean, and he looked unflinchingly into his friend's eyes. "So, joking aside, you look pretty tired. How did everything go? Is it all done?"
Sean felt a sudden knot in his stomach, and almost took a step back. But he didn't, because he didn't want to offend Viggo. He knew he was just trying to be a friend. "Yeah, pretty much," he answered, trying not to think about it too clearly. It was too painful. "Saw the girls, which was all right. It was just something to get through, that's all. Not even so bad as I'd thought it would be."
"Well, that's good," Viggo said, shifting so he was even closer. His eyes never wavered. "I remember how shitty it can be--if you want to talk about it we can. Whenever."
Sean almost wanted to. Looking into his friend's pale eyes, seeing understanding there, and not any accusation or God forbid, pity... It loosened things up inside of him, but he wasn't sure he was ready to spill his guts out. He didn't know if he wanted to put it all out there like that, because then maybe Viggo wouldn't look at him the same way.
He attempted a small smile. "I appreciate that. But right now..." he shrugged. "I'm not really ready to talk about it."
Viggo nodded. "Okay," he said easily, but he didn't move away. Instead he put a hand around the back of Sean's head, fingers scratching through the hair there for a few moments, before he pulled Sean forward and planted a kiss softly on his forehead.
And Sean didn't know why, but that simple gesture made something crack inside him, and his steely resolve to remain composed suddenly failed. When Viggo pulled back, hand still caressing Sean's neck, Sean felt his eyes brim over and he cursed as wetness slipped down both cheeks. Fuck. "You ought not've done that," he murmured.
Viggo didn't say anything at all, he just wrapped his arms around Sean and held him tight.
Sean held his breath and buried his face in Viggo's neck. He remembered thinking before, how Viggo was always there when he needed him, even when he didn't know he needed him. And here again was one of those times. He hadn't even realized how much he'd locked up inside himself, and it felt so good, so good to let someone else be strong for a bit. He just stood there, leaning on Viggo, breathing carefully in and out, his hands rubbing Viggo's back. The repetition of the movement, fingers following the line of Viggo's spine, somehow helped to calm him. That and the reassuring solidity of Viggo's chest, and the comforting warmth of his body.
It was cathartic, as if all the tension and the worry and the self-pity just melted out of him. Without him having to say anything, confess anything, relive any of it--he just let it all go, let it dissolve into nothingness. Normally he would have been embarrassed by such a display, but somehow with Viggo it seemed okay.
Sean held on for as long as he felt he had a right to, then pulled back and looked at his friend, whose face was still as calm and smooth and open as always.
"I'm not going anywhere," Viggo told him.
Sean managed a better smile this time. "Yeah, I know." He leaned back against the counter, but something in him didn't want to let go exactly, so he kept one arm around Viggo, hand resting on his back.
Viggo seemed perfectly content with this, leaning against the counter himself, putting his arm up around Sean's shoulders.
Sean guessed this was all right, too, two friends with their arms around each other. Hell, Dom and Billy looked like Siamese twins half the time, and he'd seen Elijah climbing on Orli as if he were a mountain he wanted to scale. Every day Sean spent with these people seemed to break down his reserve a bit, change his way of thinking about things.
He let loose a small sigh. "Guess I needed that," he said quietly, staring at the wall opposite him.
Viggo squeezed his shoulders. "Feel any better?"
Sean nodded. "Yeah." He wiped his mostly dry cheeks with the back of his hand. He did feel better and it was time to move on, get back to his usual self. He straightened up and took a deep breath. "Guess I'm ready to face the Elves and Hobbits, now."
"I don't think anyone can ever really be ready for that," Viggo said, rubbing Sean's back. He seemed to pick up on Sean's I'm fine vibe and he let his arm drop, moving his hand to grab up his beer again. "Do you want to change first, clean up a little?"
Sean did feel a bit rumpled and stale, from being on the plane so long. "Yeah, I might." He eyed Viggo suspiciously. "Are you hinting that I need to clean up?"
Viggo's crooked smile gave him a devilish look. "You are a bit ripe, my friend. Not that I care, but I know how picky you are about your hygiene."
Sean snorted. "Yes, it's so picky of me to not want people to move away when I stand next to them."
"You don't see me moving, do you?"
"I think you're immune to funny smells, for obvious reasons," Sean teased, glancing around the apartment.
"What reasons?!" Viggo pretended to be indignant.
"Thought I said they were obvious." Sean gave him a narrow-eyed look and then moved back to the living room. He grabbed one of his suitcases and rummaged around in it, finding a pair of black jeans and a ribbed t-shirt that would be tight enough to make the wrinkles disappear when he put it on. He didn't expect that Viggo had an iron lying around anywhere in the chaos, and didn't feel like fiddling with it even if he did.
Viggo didn't answer, and when Sean straightened up and turned around, he found Viggo staring at him. He grabbed up deodorant and cologne from another bag, and then made his way to the toilet, trying not to wonder if Viggo had been staring at him the whole time he'd been bent over his suitcase.
When he got to the door he once again took notice of the black briefs on the handle, which now could not be avoided. "So," he said, trying to act casual. "Are these clean or dirty?"
Viggo looked a little startled, and followed the line of Sean's sight. "Oh. Those are clean." He seemed confused. "I planned on putting those on this morning, now that I think about it." He looked down, pulling his waistband out, and then letting out a small noise of surprise. "Well. Guess I forgot."
Sean started laughing and was about to throw the pants at Viggo, but then changed his mind when he realized he'd forgotten one important item for his change of clothes. "You daft git," he grinned. "Guess I'll make use of these, then." Before Viggo could say anything, he grabbed them up, stepped into the tiny room and then slammed the door.
But Viggo's voice carried through the thin walls. "Mi casa es su casa!"
Grinning, and a little surprised at himself, Sean stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the shower. He took about two minutes to rub himself down with some soap, keeping his still perfectly arranged hair out of the spray, and then jumped out and toweled himself off. He slipped on Viggo's underwear, proud of himself for thinking up something that might out-shock his friend.
He checked himself out in the mirror for a moment, and was glad that he'd chosen to wear jeans. The high-cut leg of the briefs--cut up to the waistband in fact--and the lightness of the fabric meant they looked nice, but did little to hold him in. He wondered if Viggo wore these type often, which somehow led to a picture forming in his mind of Viggo in these particular briefs, and there it was, his own image in the mirror coloring to a nice blushing pink.
Trying to erase the inappropriate thoughts of Viggo, he leaned over the sink, splashing some cold water on his face. Then he used some toothpaste on his finger to freshen up his mouth. He tried to think of football, gardening, the black gates of Mordor, but his mind would not keep off the idea of Viggo in the skimpy black underwear. For some insane reason, he couldn't stop focusing on the fact that Viggo had been in this particular pair, and now Sean was inside them.
Fucking shit. Sean could feel himself getting hard, and he grumbled to himself as he turned away from the sink. He picked up his shirt and pulled it on, trying to distract himself, and noted with satisfaction that no wrinkles showed with the way the dark green fabric hugged his body. Unfortunately, the little black pants were not hugging his body as tight, due to his straining erection.
He groaned. There was nothing for it; he couldn't very well hang out in the toilet until it went away. So he pulled on his jeans and did his best to arrange himself behind the zip. He would just have to make the best of it, and hope to God that Viggo wouldn't notice.
He put on fresh deodorant and slapped some cologne on his neck and then gathered up his dirty clothes. He couldn't believe this was happening. Viggo had carried his luggage, invited him into his trailer, given him a beer and offered him a shoulder to lean on. And Sean was going to repay that by prancing out of his toilet in stolen underwear with an obscene hard-on. Just lovely, Sean. Maybe you should have just stayed in England.
Knowing he'd just about reached the point where Viggo was going to ask if he'd fallen in, Sean flung open the door and marched out, trying to keep his face neutral. "Thanks for the shower, mate," he said. "I'm ready to face the Hobbit brigade if you are."
Viggo had just finished the last of his beer and was throwing the bottle into a bin for recycling. "Totally ready. I'm not worried, because I'm letting you walk in first."
"Some friend you are," Sean snorted, stuffing his travel clothes back into one of the suitcases. When he turned back toward the kitchen, Viggo was staring at him, with a half-amused, half-curious expression. "What?" he asked.
Viggo looked downward. "Are you seriously wearing my underwear?"
Sean attempted a smirk and succeeded better than he expected. Viggo's look of disbelief was giving him confidence again. "Of course I am. You can look for them in the bathroom, if you like, if you don't believe me."
"I don’t believe you. You're just messing with my mind. I have this feeling they're hanging outside the window, and everyone walking by is going to see them, and tomorrow Dom will come on set with them on his head or something."
Sean laughed. "Wish I'd thought of that. No, I needed pants and so I took them and I'm wearin' them."
Viggo looked like he was trying to hold back a grin. "Nope, don't believe you."
"Well, I could just leave you in suspense and let you wonder what I've done," Sean said, for some reason almost feeling giddy at this point, "but you've been nice to me today so I'll be obliging." And with that he reached down into his jeans, searching out the little strip of waistband that was gliding over his right hip. When he found it, he used his thumb to stretch it upwards, so Viggo could see it above the top of his jeans. "Satisfied?"
And then Viggo did grin, and his voice was soft and smoky when he answered. "It's a start."
Sean wasn't sure what to make of that answer, but he knew to feel afraid of that look in Viggo's eye. He let the underwear snap back to where they belonged and started to pick up his luggage. "It's getting dark--the little urchins will probably want to be going out soon."
Viggo gestured for him to set everything back down. "Leave it. Say hi to them first and then we'll come back and get your stuff later."
Sean thought about it. It probably would work out better. "Best to have me hands free when I walk into battle, eh?"
"Something like that. Let's go."
Sean walked back to the kitchen counter and picked up his beer, taking very little time to tip it back and drain the contents.
Viggo smiled. "You could have brought it with."
Sean threw the bottle into the bin. "Would defeat the purpose of having both hands free, wouldn't it?"
"Good point." Viggo opened the door, but just before Sean walked through he put his arm out to block him. "You're not gonna stretch those out on me, are you? They're my favorite pair."
Sean tried to look offended. "Are you implying that I'm fat?"
Viggo moved a bit closer, his knee brushing against Sean's. He glanced downward a moment and then back up into Sean's eyes. "No."
Sean felt his cock twitch and he took a step back. Fuck. Guess he noticed after all. "Sometimes..." he started, then faltered, staring back at Viggo.
"Yeah?" Viggo moved closer again.
"Sometimes I'm not sure if you're being serious or not." And Sean didn't know why he said it, or why his heart was suddenly beating so hard.
Viggo smiled, then, a smile Sean thought a wolf might make just before he devoured his prey. "Would you like to find out?"
Sean suddenly realized with the utmost clarity that it'd been foolish of him to try to out-flirt Viggo. He was way out of his depth on this one, and it was doing strange things to his mind and body that he hadn't quite figured out yet. "Very funny," he said, grabbing Viggo's arm and pushing him out the door. "Maybe some other time."
When they were both outside, Viggo locked the door and shoved his keys in his pocket. As they walked in the semi-darkness towards his trailer, Sean ventured a glance over at Viggo. His friend looked a little less confident than he had just a minute before, almost disappointed, in fact, and Sean began to worry that he'd somehow hurt Viggo's feelings.
But which feelings were they? Was Viggo actually--? He shook the thoughts loose. No, no, Viggo was his friend and they were just screwing around, as always. Sean realized he was jet-lagged and over-anxious and had maybe been caught up a bit too much in being happy to see his mates. Your cock was certainly "happy", his inner voice reminded him.
He clenched his fists. He was just going to have to learn better self-control, that was all. He hadn't had sex in way too long, and it was no wonder he was all wound-up and over-sensitive. He'd have to do something about that soon.
"You all right?" Viggo asked suddenly. "I haven't pissed you off, have I?"
Startled, Sean stared at him. "No! How could you?" Without even thinking about it, he put his arm around Viggo's shoulders. "It's really wonderful to be back. You have no idea how happy I was when I saw you in the car park."
Viggo matched his stride and looked back at him. "Really?"
"Yeah." And because he meant it, he added, "I missed you."
And Viggo's eyes shone, then, in the pale light from the setting sun. His voice was soft when he spoke. "I missed you, too."
Sean smiled back at him. "I was afraid everyone would have forgotten me by now."
Viggo's hand squeezed his side. "Nah, that would never happen." He looked suddenly somber then. "You know, I did forget something, though."
"Oh?" Sean gave him a questioning look. "What's that?"
"Those underwear actually weren't clean."
~~tbc
Pairing: SB/VM
Author: shrinetolust
Rated: PG-13
Story: More of the silliness. Sean comes home. Viggo comes on strong.
Disclaimer: Don't know these lovely men, don't know what they get up to in their free time. This is all part of my overactive imagination, done with love and respect, and no harm or offense is intended. It's FICTION!!
Feedback: Yes, please. This chapter kicked my arse. Sean doesn't know what he's doing, and so neither did I. Whether that makes for the perfect writing situation or a disaster, you tell me. ~ Leave a note here or mail me at shrinetolust AT hotmail.com
Crossposted: Oh, everywhere. I am a feedback whore.
Archive: My own LJ. Others, please ask.
Notes: *gasp* Un-beta-ed, silly me. Please point out any glaring errors so I'm not embarrassed for too long!
WARNINGS: Corniness and schmoop are definite possibilities. *hides*
**BIG SQUISHY THANK YOUs to loyaldreamer for my icon...*mwah!*
**Touching: (Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4)
Sean stared at the scrap of paper in his lap and chuckled softly to himself. Thankfully the flight hadn't been all that full and he had an empty seat next to him--anyone looking over at his work would have thought him a complete nutter.
Of course he'd learned from the best. Viggo had handed him a crumpled sheet torn from a spiral notebook before Sean'd left on the plane out of New Zealand. "Just try colors, at first," Viggo had told him, looking for all the world like this was a vital piece of information for Sean's journey. "Then try descriptive adjectives, or only four letter words--whatever works."
Sean had been nervous and slightly out of it from a mixture of lack of sleep and excess of vodka the night before, and he'd stared at Viggo, uncomprehending. "What are you on about, Vig?" He always preferred being in that half-fog whenever he had to fly somewhere, but it did complicate things when he was actually forced to think about something.
But Viggo had just grinned. "Just look at it when you get on the plane. You'll understand."
Sean had nodded and patted Viggo on his chest. "Sure thing, mate. I'll call you when I'm on my way back." And with a final wave, he'd headed for the line to get through security.
Now here he was, three weeks later, on the flight back and still looking at that original piece of paper. White with pale blue lines across it, edges frayed and leaving bits of debris on Sean's twill pants. Words were scrawled across it, blotchy pen interwoven with a crisp coffee ring. The words were grouped into puzzle like formations:
Obstinant
Radiant
Lanky
Adventurous
Nervy
Determined
Original
Violet
Indigo
Green
Grey
Orange
Sean had laughed when he'd first looked at it, but hours later he'd discovered he didn't remember when the plane had taken off or how long they'd been in the air. He'd been rather proud of thinking of "aubergine" for the "A" in Orlando's name, and he'd quietly snickered through crass words that helped to spell "Dominic". Viggo the crazy bugger wasn't so crazy after all, it seemed.
But what had gotten to him, just before he'd landed, was when he'd flipped the paper over for more room to write and discovered that Viggo had done one other puzzle.
Sexy Sensible
Edible Eloquent
Adorable Artistic
Naked Naked
Sean had laughed so loud that other passengers had turned to look at him. Then his cheeks had started to burn. Naked. He thought of that conversation they'd had, when Viggo had gotten his eye busted up: Three divorces doesn't change how good you look naked. No doubt Viggo'd wanted to remind him of that little line. Cheeky bastard.
He'd stuffed the paper into his jacket pocket and there it had remained until the flight back. Not that he hadn't thought about it, in the few moments he'd had to himself, the few moments here and there when he wasn't knee-deep in legal crap, or trying not to think of his failures every time he looked at his girls.
Viggo knew how to take the piss, just like anyone else, and the words he'd written and scratched out were good for a laugh. But some little part of Sean's brain thought that maybe Viggo wasn't completely going for the joke on that one. And the words he'd chosen to replace them were not words Sean would ever have associated with himself or felt worthy of. Well, except for "naked". He smiled to himself. It almost seemed like maybe Viggo had given him this in order to try to tell him something, but maybe he was just punchy from all he'd been through and was reading way too much into it.
In any case, he'd spent a good portion of the return flight working out Viggo's name. He'd done plants, colors, cars, and women's names, which had given him a laugh or two as well. But now he was about to land, and his pen still hovered over the page. He thought and thought, then started madly scribbling. When he was done, he stared down with a grin. Not perfect, but he thought his friend would appreciate the effort.
Virile Vibrant
Irresistible Inspiring
Gorgeous Generous
Gentle Genius
Orgasmic Orgiastic
Nothing that was exactly naked, but he figured "Orgiastic" wasn't bad. After all, any time he somehow found himself in a pile-up of bodies in a restaurant or on a dance floor or in a small car with the entire cast, Viggo always seemed to be right in the middle of it. And the man sexualized everything...he had the filthiest mind of anyone, not that the Hobbits were very far behind. Sean had resigned himself to spending the entire time he was in New Zealand in a permanent state of embarrassed blushing, and a constant feeling of having somehow accidentally signed up to do a big-budget porn film.
Not that he was a prude, of course. He just hadn't ever experienced so many random displays of affection, and that sort of open flirting...most of the guys on cast didn't care if you were a bird or a bloke. That had taken some getting used to. But he thought he was learning to cope all right. The day he'd left, Orlando had cautiously offered a handshake, but Sean had taken Viggo's advice and pulled the kid into a hug. Once the Hobbits discovered that Orlando wasn't getting his ribs crushed, the Hobbits jumped in to get their share. One minute later and Sean was lying on the ground, spread-eagled, underneath a pile of squirmy Elf and Hobbits whose collective weight turned out to be substantial enough to knock the breath out of his lungs.
Wheezing softly, he'd stared upwards as Viggo's face appeared upside-down over his own. Viggo was on all fours, his soft brown hair fluttering around in the cool breeze, his eyes cast in shadow. His crooked grin was obvious, though, even from that angle. "We'll miss you," Viggo chuckled, leaning down and pressing a wet kiss to the bridge of Sean's nose. And then all the others had chimed in, and Sean had this collage of crazy faces above him, smiling and begging him to come back soon.
Sean chuckled at the memory. Perhaps he should go back to handshakes, rather than risk getting crushed again. He folded the sheet of words up and returned it to his pocket, for once not feeling nauseous as the plane dipped down toward the runway. He was feeling something, however. Some sort of...anticipation, he guessed. In a way this felt more like coming home than landing in England had.
The filming had continued all while he was gone, so he hadn't expected anyone would be free to pick him up at the airport. He couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed, though, when that rationale proved to be right. They'd sent a car, of course, with a decent enough bloke named Patrick at the wheel.
Patrick informed him the whole crew were on location, and he was taking him out there straightaway. "Mr. Bloom asked me to tell you that your trailer was all set up and ready for your return, sir," Patrick assured. "I'll try to get you there before it gets dark."
Sean nodded, wondering what Orlando's idea of "set up and ready" was. Had he actually washed three weeks' worth of coffee mugs and cereal bowls? Had he run a hoover over the carpet? Sean grimaced. If Viggo had anything to do with it, though, the place'd probably be booby-trapped or duct-taped or wrapped in cling film. He'd have to watch his step. He quickly began to regret his decision to wear his new Italian shoes on his first day back.
He realized as they traveled that he was wound pretty tight. The three weeks he'd been gone had been stressful and aggravating and...unpleasant, to say the least. Coming back to work was in some ways a relief, but it carried its own set of stresses. They'd done a lot of finagling to film around him, using stand-ins when they could, and shooting scenes he wasn't in. He expected it had been a pain in the arse for everyone involved and they'd be none too happy with him when he returned.
Or even worse, and that was when it hit him--even worse if it had been easy enough and they hadn't missed him at all. They'd gone out so many nights without him, now, he'd probably lost ground in the friendships he'd made. He hadn't realized how troubling that would feel to him. He always liked getting along with his costars, but he'd never before felt so much like he'd want to keep seeing this lot, even after the movie was done.
It was lucky that Patrick turned out to be a good talker, because Sean needed the distraction. It started with football, but it turned out that Patrick knew far more about gardening. The two of them were still discussing which were the best perennials for their respective home climates, when the car came to a halt at the temporary grassy car park near the LOTR trailers.
To his surprise, Viggo was sitting on the tailgate of one of the trucks and leapt to his feet when Sean got out of the car. "Vig, what're you doing here?" Sean asked.
Viggo grinned and pointed to the fading light. "Done for the day, my friend. You said you'd be back about this time, so I set myself up to wait for you. Figured you'd prefer a friendly face to a harried assistant."
Sean couldn't help grinning back. "That I do." He threw an arm around Viggo's neck and gave him a quick hug before walking towards the back of the car. "Give me a hand, then?"
Patrick was setting Sean's luggage out, and Viggo promptly picked up two of the bags. He grimaced at the weight of one of them. "Holy shit, Sean, what've you got in here?"
"Contraband," Sean said in a low voice. "Thought I'd try to win favor with everyone again by bribing them with imported presents."
Viggo's eyes were bright. "Worried we forgot about you?"
Sean started to protest, then shrugged his shoulders. "A bit, yeah." He shook hands with Patrick. "Thanks for the drive, mate. Hope I'll see you again."
"Absolutely," Patrick agreed, clutching his hand warmly. "Good night to you both, gentlemen."
"Safe drive back," Viggo told him.
"Thank you, sir." Patrick gave a friendly wave before folding himself back into the car and driving away.
"Nice bloke," Sean said as he picked up the remaining luggage and headed toward the trailers. "How've you been? Everything going all right?"
"Yeah, not too bad," Viggo answered, falling into step next to him. "Hobbits insane as always. Dom got a splinter in his foot he claimed was the size of a telephone pole but turned out to be...well, a splinter."
Sean grinned. "Nothing like getting your eye nearly knocked out of your head."
"Yeah, if you're gonna go for an injury, you've really got to go for it. None of this kid stuff."
"Looks better, by the way." Sean hitched the strap of his bag higher up on his shoulder. "How's it feeling?"
"Don't even think about it anymore. It's mostly gone, isn't it?"
"It is...only there if you really look for it."
Viggo paused and grinned. "And are you really looking?"
Sean flushed. "I've just been on two different planes for more hours than I remember. I don't know what I'm doing."
"Well, let's stop by mine and have a drink."
"We've got to drop the luggage, first, if that's all right."
Viggo shook his head. "I'm just up here. C'mon. Orli's at your place, and there's probably a Hobbit or two lying in wait for you with him. Don't you want a drink first, steel yourself for it?"
Sean had to laugh. "Good idea, that." He let Viggo lead the way and it wasn't long before they were in the living room of Viggo's trailer, with Sean's luggage taking up a good portion of the space.
Viggo moved to the kitchen and grabbed two beers from the fridge. Sean was right behind him and they ended up leaning against the counter, looking at each other and both taking a swig from their bottles at the same time.
Sean made a satisfied noise and licked his lips, savoring the flavor and the bracing zing of alcohol. Viggo'd obviously been buying proper beer. "So how's the Elf boy? Get you into any more trouble?"
"No, he's been a very good boy. Rather subdued, now that you mention it." Viggo's smile was crooked and suggestive. "I think he misses you."
Sean waved him off. "Of course he does. No one to clean up the place, now is there?"
To his surprise, Viggo laughed loudly. "Not as if you were Mr. Clean!" he sputtered.
"I'm better than he is," Sean pouted. "It's not like we live in squalor." He looked around at the debris scattered all around Viggo's place, pictures tacked up on all the walls, scraps of paper on every available surface, piles of paints and cameras and mucked up canvases everywhere. Not to mention all the clothes strewn around, including the black pair of briefs on the bathroom doorknob that Sean was trying very hard to not take notice of. "And you've no room to talk!"
"The disadvantage of not having a roommate," Viggo chuckled, taking another gulp of his beer before setting his bottle on the counter. "No one to blame."
Sean set his own beer down and then picked up a piece of cardboard that was lying next to it, where it looked as if Viggo had written poetry with jam or syrup or something food-related. "I think if you lived with twelve other people, we'd still know to blame this on you."
"My pen ran out," Viggo said, as if that explained everything. He then snatched the cardboard and tossed it to the side. Reaching for it had brought him closer to Sean, and he looked unflinchingly into his friend's eyes. "So, joking aside, you look pretty tired. How did everything go? Is it all done?"
Sean felt a sudden knot in his stomach, and almost took a step back. But he didn't, because he didn't want to offend Viggo. He knew he was just trying to be a friend. "Yeah, pretty much," he answered, trying not to think about it too clearly. It was too painful. "Saw the girls, which was all right. It was just something to get through, that's all. Not even so bad as I'd thought it would be."
"Well, that's good," Viggo said, shifting so he was even closer. His eyes never wavered. "I remember how shitty it can be--if you want to talk about it we can. Whenever."
Sean almost wanted to. Looking into his friend's pale eyes, seeing understanding there, and not any accusation or God forbid, pity... It loosened things up inside of him, but he wasn't sure he was ready to spill his guts out. He didn't know if he wanted to put it all out there like that, because then maybe Viggo wouldn't look at him the same way.
He attempted a small smile. "I appreciate that. But right now..." he shrugged. "I'm not really ready to talk about it."
Viggo nodded. "Okay," he said easily, but he didn't move away. Instead he put a hand around the back of Sean's head, fingers scratching through the hair there for a few moments, before he pulled Sean forward and planted a kiss softly on his forehead.
And Sean didn't know why, but that simple gesture made something crack inside him, and his steely resolve to remain composed suddenly failed. When Viggo pulled back, hand still caressing Sean's neck, Sean felt his eyes brim over and he cursed as wetness slipped down both cheeks. Fuck. "You ought not've done that," he murmured.
Viggo didn't say anything at all, he just wrapped his arms around Sean and held him tight.
Sean held his breath and buried his face in Viggo's neck. He remembered thinking before, how Viggo was always there when he needed him, even when he didn't know he needed him. And here again was one of those times. He hadn't even realized how much he'd locked up inside himself, and it felt so good, so good to let someone else be strong for a bit. He just stood there, leaning on Viggo, breathing carefully in and out, his hands rubbing Viggo's back. The repetition of the movement, fingers following the line of Viggo's spine, somehow helped to calm him. That and the reassuring solidity of Viggo's chest, and the comforting warmth of his body.
It was cathartic, as if all the tension and the worry and the self-pity just melted out of him. Without him having to say anything, confess anything, relive any of it--he just let it all go, let it dissolve into nothingness. Normally he would have been embarrassed by such a display, but somehow with Viggo it seemed okay.
Sean held on for as long as he felt he had a right to, then pulled back and looked at his friend, whose face was still as calm and smooth and open as always.
"I'm not going anywhere," Viggo told him.
Sean managed a better smile this time. "Yeah, I know." He leaned back against the counter, but something in him didn't want to let go exactly, so he kept one arm around Viggo, hand resting on his back.
Viggo seemed perfectly content with this, leaning against the counter himself, putting his arm up around Sean's shoulders.
Sean guessed this was all right, too, two friends with their arms around each other. Hell, Dom and Billy looked like Siamese twins half the time, and he'd seen Elijah climbing on Orli as if he were a mountain he wanted to scale. Every day Sean spent with these people seemed to break down his reserve a bit, change his way of thinking about things.
He let loose a small sigh. "Guess I needed that," he said quietly, staring at the wall opposite him.
Viggo squeezed his shoulders. "Feel any better?"
Sean nodded. "Yeah." He wiped his mostly dry cheeks with the back of his hand. He did feel better and it was time to move on, get back to his usual self. He straightened up and took a deep breath. "Guess I'm ready to face the Elves and Hobbits, now."
"I don't think anyone can ever really be ready for that," Viggo said, rubbing Sean's back. He seemed to pick up on Sean's I'm fine vibe and he let his arm drop, moving his hand to grab up his beer again. "Do you want to change first, clean up a little?"
Sean did feel a bit rumpled and stale, from being on the plane so long. "Yeah, I might." He eyed Viggo suspiciously. "Are you hinting that I need to clean up?"
Viggo's crooked smile gave him a devilish look. "You are a bit ripe, my friend. Not that I care, but I know how picky you are about your hygiene."
Sean snorted. "Yes, it's so picky of me to not want people to move away when I stand next to them."
"You don't see me moving, do you?"
"I think you're immune to funny smells, for obvious reasons," Sean teased, glancing around the apartment.
"What reasons?!" Viggo pretended to be indignant.
"Thought I said they were obvious." Sean gave him a narrow-eyed look and then moved back to the living room. He grabbed one of his suitcases and rummaged around in it, finding a pair of black jeans and a ribbed t-shirt that would be tight enough to make the wrinkles disappear when he put it on. He didn't expect that Viggo had an iron lying around anywhere in the chaos, and didn't feel like fiddling with it even if he did.
Viggo didn't answer, and when Sean straightened up and turned around, he found Viggo staring at him. He grabbed up deodorant and cologne from another bag, and then made his way to the toilet, trying not to wonder if Viggo had been staring at him the whole time he'd been bent over his suitcase.
When he got to the door he once again took notice of the black briefs on the handle, which now could not be avoided. "So," he said, trying to act casual. "Are these clean or dirty?"
Viggo looked a little startled, and followed the line of Sean's sight. "Oh. Those are clean." He seemed confused. "I planned on putting those on this morning, now that I think about it." He looked down, pulling his waistband out, and then letting out a small noise of surprise. "Well. Guess I forgot."
Sean started laughing and was about to throw the pants at Viggo, but then changed his mind when he realized he'd forgotten one important item for his change of clothes. "You daft git," he grinned. "Guess I'll make use of these, then." Before Viggo could say anything, he grabbed them up, stepped into the tiny room and then slammed the door.
But Viggo's voice carried through the thin walls. "Mi casa es su casa!"
Grinning, and a little surprised at himself, Sean stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the shower. He took about two minutes to rub himself down with some soap, keeping his still perfectly arranged hair out of the spray, and then jumped out and toweled himself off. He slipped on Viggo's underwear, proud of himself for thinking up something that might out-shock his friend.
He checked himself out in the mirror for a moment, and was glad that he'd chosen to wear jeans. The high-cut leg of the briefs--cut up to the waistband in fact--and the lightness of the fabric meant they looked nice, but did little to hold him in. He wondered if Viggo wore these type often, which somehow led to a picture forming in his mind of Viggo in these particular briefs, and there it was, his own image in the mirror coloring to a nice blushing pink.
Trying to erase the inappropriate thoughts of Viggo, he leaned over the sink, splashing some cold water on his face. Then he used some toothpaste on his finger to freshen up his mouth. He tried to think of football, gardening, the black gates of Mordor, but his mind would not keep off the idea of Viggo in the skimpy black underwear. For some insane reason, he couldn't stop focusing on the fact that Viggo had been in this particular pair, and now Sean was inside them.
Fucking shit. Sean could feel himself getting hard, and he grumbled to himself as he turned away from the sink. He picked up his shirt and pulled it on, trying to distract himself, and noted with satisfaction that no wrinkles showed with the way the dark green fabric hugged his body. Unfortunately, the little black pants were not hugging his body as tight, due to his straining erection.
He groaned. There was nothing for it; he couldn't very well hang out in the toilet until it went away. So he pulled on his jeans and did his best to arrange himself behind the zip. He would just have to make the best of it, and hope to God that Viggo wouldn't notice.
He put on fresh deodorant and slapped some cologne on his neck and then gathered up his dirty clothes. He couldn't believe this was happening. Viggo had carried his luggage, invited him into his trailer, given him a beer and offered him a shoulder to lean on. And Sean was going to repay that by prancing out of his toilet in stolen underwear with an obscene hard-on. Just lovely, Sean. Maybe you should have just stayed in England.
Knowing he'd just about reached the point where Viggo was going to ask if he'd fallen in, Sean flung open the door and marched out, trying to keep his face neutral. "Thanks for the shower, mate," he said. "I'm ready to face the Hobbit brigade if you are."
Viggo had just finished the last of his beer and was throwing the bottle into a bin for recycling. "Totally ready. I'm not worried, because I'm letting you walk in first."
"Some friend you are," Sean snorted, stuffing his travel clothes back into one of the suitcases. When he turned back toward the kitchen, Viggo was staring at him, with a half-amused, half-curious expression. "What?" he asked.
Viggo looked downward. "Are you seriously wearing my underwear?"
Sean attempted a smirk and succeeded better than he expected. Viggo's look of disbelief was giving him confidence again. "Of course I am. You can look for them in the bathroom, if you like, if you don't believe me."
"I don’t believe you. You're just messing with my mind. I have this feeling they're hanging outside the window, and everyone walking by is going to see them, and tomorrow Dom will come on set with them on his head or something."
Sean laughed. "Wish I'd thought of that. No, I needed pants and so I took them and I'm wearin' them."
Viggo looked like he was trying to hold back a grin. "Nope, don't believe you."
"Well, I could just leave you in suspense and let you wonder what I've done," Sean said, for some reason almost feeling giddy at this point, "but you've been nice to me today so I'll be obliging." And with that he reached down into his jeans, searching out the little strip of waistband that was gliding over his right hip. When he found it, he used his thumb to stretch it upwards, so Viggo could see it above the top of his jeans. "Satisfied?"
And then Viggo did grin, and his voice was soft and smoky when he answered. "It's a start."
Sean wasn't sure what to make of that answer, but he knew to feel afraid of that look in Viggo's eye. He let the underwear snap back to where they belonged and started to pick up his luggage. "It's getting dark--the little urchins will probably want to be going out soon."
Viggo gestured for him to set everything back down. "Leave it. Say hi to them first and then we'll come back and get your stuff later."
Sean thought about it. It probably would work out better. "Best to have me hands free when I walk into battle, eh?"
"Something like that. Let's go."
Sean walked back to the kitchen counter and picked up his beer, taking very little time to tip it back and drain the contents.
Viggo smiled. "You could have brought it with."
Sean threw the bottle into the bin. "Would defeat the purpose of having both hands free, wouldn't it?"
"Good point." Viggo opened the door, but just before Sean walked through he put his arm out to block him. "You're not gonna stretch those out on me, are you? They're my favorite pair."
Sean tried to look offended. "Are you implying that I'm fat?"
Viggo moved a bit closer, his knee brushing against Sean's. He glanced downward a moment and then back up into Sean's eyes. "No."
Sean felt his cock twitch and he took a step back. Fuck. Guess he noticed after all. "Sometimes..." he started, then faltered, staring back at Viggo.
"Yeah?" Viggo moved closer again.
"Sometimes I'm not sure if you're being serious or not." And Sean didn't know why he said it, or why his heart was suddenly beating so hard.
Viggo smiled, then, a smile Sean thought a wolf might make just before he devoured his prey. "Would you like to find out?"
Sean suddenly realized with the utmost clarity that it'd been foolish of him to try to out-flirt Viggo. He was way out of his depth on this one, and it was doing strange things to his mind and body that he hadn't quite figured out yet. "Very funny," he said, grabbing Viggo's arm and pushing him out the door. "Maybe some other time."
When they were both outside, Viggo locked the door and shoved his keys in his pocket. As they walked in the semi-darkness towards his trailer, Sean ventured a glance over at Viggo. His friend looked a little less confident than he had just a minute before, almost disappointed, in fact, and Sean began to worry that he'd somehow hurt Viggo's feelings.
But which feelings were they? Was Viggo actually--? He shook the thoughts loose. No, no, Viggo was his friend and they were just screwing around, as always. Sean realized he was jet-lagged and over-anxious and had maybe been caught up a bit too much in being happy to see his mates. Your cock was certainly "happy", his inner voice reminded him.
He clenched his fists. He was just going to have to learn better self-control, that was all. He hadn't had sex in way too long, and it was no wonder he was all wound-up and over-sensitive. He'd have to do something about that soon.
"You all right?" Viggo asked suddenly. "I haven't pissed you off, have I?"
Startled, Sean stared at him. "No! How could you?" Without even thinking about it, he put his arm around Viggo's shoulders. "It's really wonderful to be back. You have no idea how happy I was when I saw you in the car park."
Viggo matched his stride and looked back at him. "Really?"
"Yeah." And because he meant it, he added, "I missed you."
And Viggo's eyes shone, then, in the pale light from the setting sun. His voice was soft when he spoke. "I missed you, too."
Sean smiled back at him. "I was afraid everyone would have forgotten me by now."
Viggo's hand squeezed his side. "Nah, that would never happen." He looked suddenly somber then. "You know, I did forget something, though."
"Oh?" Sean gave him a questioning look. "What's that?"
"Those underwear actually weren't clean."
~~tbc