FIC: Touching, Chapter 8 (SB/VM), R
Title: Touching, Chapter 8
Pairing: SB/VM
Author: shrinetolust
Rated: R
Story: More silliness. Sean and Viggo have an interesting conversation. Sean's drunken logic provides Viggo with an opportunity.
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. Are you happy now? *G* ~ Leave a note here or mail me at shrinetolust AT hotmail.com
Crossposted: Oh, everywhere. I am a feedback whore.
Archive: My own LJ. Green Opals, Rugbytackling. Others, please ask.
Notes: Heavily edited as always but un-beta-ed. Please point out any glaring errors so I'm not embarrassed for too long! Many thanks to angiepen--her commentary on a previous chapter gave me a small bunny for this one. :)
WARNINGS: None.
**BIG SQUISHY THANK YOUs to loyaldreamer for my icon...*mwah!*
**Touching: (Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7)
It's been awhile, I know, so you might want to skim Chapter 7 for a refresher, as this one directly picks up from there...
Touching, Chapter 8
Sean waited to hear Orlando go out the side door, and listened to the indistinct murmur of voices for a few minutes. Then he dragged himself out of bed, glad that apprehension and lack of immediate stimulus had let his cock return to an almost normal state. He rummaged around in his suitcases, finding what he wanted and hastily pulling on a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. He walked out of his room, just as Orlando was coming back inside. "All clear, mate," Orlando grinned. "I'll fix up something to eat while you two talk, if that's all right."
Sean nodded, noticing that the kid was still wearing the ridiculously small tee-shirt. He also noticed that Orlando's nipples were erect and pushing against the thin fabric, and he gathered that it was still cold outside despite the sun.
And then he wondered what the hell he was doing looking at Orlando's nipples, for God's sake.
"Sean, are you all right?" Orlando asked. "Do you need anything?"
"A lobotomy, I think," Sean mumbled. "Or possibly castration."
Orlando looked startled, but amused. "Well, I daresay the first wouldn't change much, and the second would be a crime against humanity." He put a hand on Sean's shoulder. "Are you sure you're all right, mate?"
Sean shook off the thoughts and focused on Orlando's warm brown eyes, ignoring his cheeky comments for now. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Viggo's outside?"
"Waiting for you," Orlando answered. "I'll go see about them fixing the heat after brekkie, okay?" He smiled devilishly. "Unless you don't want me to, of course."
And Sean smacked Orlando's wee bum, for the second time in 24 hours. "Get out of my sight, you bloody tart."
Orlando giggled, skipping off toward the kitchen. "You're starting to sound like Ian!" he chirped cheerfully.
Sean groaned. It was true, he was turning gayer by the day. What the hell was he going to say to Viggo about all this? Best to get it over with, though, even if he wasn't sure exactly how. He pushed open the door and stepped outside.
"Hello there, friend," Viggo said quietly. He was sitting on one of the rickety lawn chairs just to the right of the steps, and Sean dragged another one over so they could sit next to each other.
"Guess we gave you a fright this morning." Sean tried to keep his tone light.
"Actually it was more of a shock. I didn't know you liked Orlando that way."
"WHAT?" Sean roared.
Viggo put a hand up in protest. "Sean, I'm right here."
Sean stared at him, horrified, but he tried to keep his voice down. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Well, Orlando said--" Viggo pointed a thumb back towards the trailer-- "he said you came on pretty strong. I can't quite imagine you grabbing his ass and then kissing him, but--"
"He--he--but I--but he--" Sean stammered, and he knew his face must be turning purple. "HE'S the one that rammed his fucking tongue down me throat!"
The window just above them abruptly slid open, and Orlando peeked out of it. "I did not!" he protested. "I only licked you!"
Sean jumped out of his seat and was about to grab Orlando by the ears, but Viggo put up a hand and stopped him. Orlando squealed and slammed the window, and Sean could see him run back towards the kitchen.
"Take it easy," Viggo laughed, urging Sean to sit down again. "I was just giving you shit."
"What?" Sean's horror at the situation was still muddling his brain.
"I was joking, Sean. I mean, it was a big fucking shock this morning. Extremely erotic, though." Viggo grinned at Sean's still horrified expression. "You and Orlando half-naked and entwined on a bed isn't exactly a boring sight."
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Sean grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. "I knew you'd make it even worse than it was."
Viggo cackled, his familiar raspy laugh sending tickling sensations up Sean's spine. "Yes, it must have been terrible. I could see how much you were suffering." He bumped their elbows together. "You know, when I told you that you could stand to be more affectionate with Orlando, I didn't think you'd take it quite that far."
Sean dropped his hand and glared at him. "I didn't take anything anywhere. What the fuck did the kid tell you--really?"
"He told me the truth. The heat went out, he was cold." Viggo shook his head, still laughing. "Only Orlando would have the balls to ask to crawl into bed with you."
Sean snorted. "I'm not a damn ogre, I keep telling you." Viggo merely arched an eyebrow, and Sean squirmed. "I wasn't happy about it, yeah, but it's not like I would have tossed him out a window."
Viggo continued to look at him. "I could definitely see you Elf-tossing. You didn't even want to kiss my cheek when I had the black eye because it would reduce your masculine image. I can't imagine what a pretty boy in boxer shorts asking to join you in bed must have done to you."
"I'm not a fucking homophobe!" Sean shouted, and of course some of the crew happened to round the corner of the trailer at just that moment. They did their best to hide their smiles, and hurried past. "I'm not," Sean repeated petulantly, in a much quieter voice.
"Sean."
Sean looked at Viggo, at his soft blue eyes and air-dried brown hair that was rustling gently against his face in the breeze. "Yeah, so maybe a little. But a person can change, can't they? Learn a few things?"
And that made Viggo smile, a genuine smile without any hint of a smirk. "Yes, yes they can."
"Well, all right then."
They sat in silence for awhile, arms pressed together, cool wind against their faces. Then Viggo said, "So, should I give my key to your trailer back? Really, I don't want to intrude on anything you and Orli get up to in your private time."
Sean snorted. "You're always a part of what Orli and I get up to, no reason to change that."
"Hmm." Viggo thought for a moment. "So, next time you two crawl into bed together, you'll give me a call?"
Sean grinned and looked him right in the eye. "I just might do that." And Viggo grinned back and Sean could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest again. He didn't even know what he was saying half the time these days, but he knew he liked it when Viggo smiled at him like that. That was about all he knew.
Viggo's grin didn't fade. "So, Orlando tells me you were flirting with him last night."
"Fuck, he were totally pissed off his arse. He was humping the doorframe for five minutes before he ever got to me."
"Still?" Viggo laughed. "He was doing that before I left."
"He's a horny lil bugger, that's for sure, but then everyone around here seems to be. Including you."
Viggo did his best to look innocent. "I don't know what you mean."
Sean reached into his pocket and fished out the tattered piece of notebook paper Viggo had given him. He held it up, Viggo's words clearly visible. "What's all this, then, about Sean and nakedness?"
Viggo snatched the list out of his hands and looked at it. "There's more writing here." He let out a hoot of laughter then, and Sean saw that he'd gotten to the "Women's names" version:
Violet
Ingrid
Gertrude
Greta
Orlando Ophelia
"You are too fuckin' cruel to him, you know," Viggo said, looking farther down the list. "Hmm....interesting how you used "Violet" for colors, flowers, and women's names."
"I couldn't decide if that was being really clever or just cheating," Sean chuckled.
"We'll say clever," Viggo decided. He read over the other puzzles, snickering as he went through the filthy words using Dom's name, and then he choked back his laughter as he read aloud in a theatrical voice: "'Orlando's exclamations (or commentary on his wardrobe): Outrageous, Ridiculous, Ludicrous, Asinine, Nonsensical, Delirious, and Outlandish'--I have this image now of you giggling like a lunatic when you were doing these."
"I were at that," Sean agreed ruefully. "I'm surprised they didn't kick me off the plane." He watched Viggo for a bit longer, feeling pretty good that he'd managed to amuse his friend with his silly attempts at wit. He really had enjoyed himself with the puzzles, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed being on an airplane. Or at least forgot he was on one, without the help of prescription drugs or alcohol. Instinctively his hand moved and curled around Viggo's wrist. "Seriously, though, Vig--I didn't know what you were on about when you gave that paper to me. But once I'd worked it out, the rest of me flight just passed by and it was over before I'd realized."
Viggo looked pleased. "I was hoping it'd take your mind off it. And maybe you'd drink less vodka," he teased.
"If you didn't want me to drink so much you shouldn't have put all that naked business in there," Sean told him. He let go of Viggo's arm and turned the sheet of paper over in Viggo's hands. "You forced me to retaliate."
Viggo looked down at it, and his smile faded suddenly. He stared at the words for a long time, so long that Sean started to sweat. He wondered suddenly if it had been such a good idea, that maybe he'd offended Viggo somehow. It was possible to take a joke too far, he expected. He leaned over a little, looking at the list, to see if it was possibly worse than he remembered.
Virile Vibrant
Irresistible Inspiring
Gorgeous Generous
Gentle Genius
Orgasmic Orgiastic
Maybe he'd gotten too personal? Sean never knew with Viggo...he usually felt like he could say pretty much anything to him, but a few times he'd hit something Viggo was unexpectedly sensitive about. And hurting Viggo's feelings always made Sean feel like the biggest arse in the world, so he tried to avoid it at all costs.
Desperate to break the silence, he looked at the words in front of him. "Your name's a lot harder than mine, you know. It weren't easy coming up with something for 'O'."
And Viggo gave a little half-smile then. "I think you did pretty well. I don't think I can be entirely blamed for the orgiastic thing, though--Dom's got to fit in there somewhere."
"He usually does--and enjoys it way too much, the tart," Sean chuckled. At Viggo's amused look, he grimaced. "And don't dare tell me I'm starting to sound like Ian."
"Actually, I was going to ask you why you chose this particular word for the second 'G'."
Sean looked down and saw Viggo's finger just under the word Gentle. Every muscle in his body tensed, and for a moment he wondered how the hell that word had gotten in there. But the obvious response came tumbling from his lips: "Well, you are, aren't you?"
Viggo stared back at him, a little surprised at first, but then his smile deepened. "If you'd like me to be, yes--I can be. Very."
And Sean opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Nothing at all. He was a complete blank, every cell wiped clean. It had happened again--Viggo had made his brain short-circuit. His breathing had stopped and his entire body had shut down, except for his damn cock--which was suddenly so hard it almost hurt.
The trailer door abruptly banged open, and Orlando hung out of the doorway, licking jam off of one thumb. "C'mon you two, tea and toast is on the table." With a flash of lanky limbs he disappeared again, leaving the door ajar.
Viggo stood up, and surveyed Sean's frozen state with a smile. "Saved by the Elf in the tight tee-shirt," he chuckled. "Better hurry up, Sean, I know how much you hate cold toast." He tucked the piece of notebook paper into a pocket and started to climb up into the trailer, then leaned back to say, "Oh, and there was one other thing I wanted to tell you."
Sean somehow managed to look up at him, and croaked out, "Yeah, what's that?"
"Those underwear of mine you borrowed? I think you should keep them. They look much better on you." He paused. "Especially with Orlando attached to them." He started laughing, and as he yanked himself up into the trailer, Orlando shouted out to him.
"What was I attached to?"
"Sean's underwear," Viggo replied, barely able to get the words out through his laughter. "They're mine, you know."
"How the hell did Sean get in your pants?" Orlando cried out, and just then the door slammed shut and Sean couldn't hear the rest.
Just as well. Sean covered his face and thumped his head against the side of the trailer. Maybe if he stayed outside, it would be cold enough that he'd freeze to death. But then his stomach rumbled, and he remembered something. He stood up and flung open the door to the trailer. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, he reflected. Or somethin' like that. Truth was, he really did hate cold toast.
~~
Two weeks went by, with a vigorous shooting schedule and lots of location work, and not much time for socializing. And then the weather turned to shit, and they were forced back to civilization, and working on indoor sets. The schedule eased up, blessedly, and allowed everyone some time for R&R. The first night there, Sean invariably found himself in his hotel room, staring at the blue screen on the telly and wondering when exactly he had dozed off. He turned his head slowly, grimacing at the ache in his neck, and saw that Viggo was in his usual position. Which was, of course, drunk and passed out, with his cheek pressed against Sean's arm, and snoring loudly. Sean wondered idly if Viggo had ever had his sinuses checked.
He lifted his free arm and examined his watch, waiting a moment or two until his eyes could focus on the numbers. Half past two in the morning, it was. Definitely time to crawl into bed. He and Viggo had the day off, but they had plans, and he really didn't want to be sleepwalking his way through them. No, best to get some proper rest, in a proper bed.
He started to slip away from Viggo, to let him take up his usual residence on the couch, when he thought about that proper bed bit. It didn't really seem fair for his friend to wake up with a stiff back, either. He grabbed a handful of Viggo's shirt and shook him.
Viggo's eyes slid open and his forehead wrinkled, no doubt as he tried to figure out where he was exactly. "WhatisitSean?" he mumbled, the words almost indistinguishable.
Sean felt a little fuzzy in the brain area himself, but Viggo still sounded funny to him, and he couldn't help grinning. "Time for bed, Vig."
"Obviously," Viggo said darkly. "S'why I was sleeping."
Sean started to laugh, but his head hurt too much so he stopped. "No, no couch for you today, I think. You need a proper bed."
Viggo was silent for a moment, then looked at him with bleary eyes. "Are you kickin' me out?"
"Am I?" Sean was confused--he hadn't actually thought that far ahead. There was only one bed, so he supposed it did mean that Viggo would have to go back to his own room. But it was so ridiculously late, and he really liked having Viggo there when he woke up. "Well," he considered. "You could jus' sleep with me, couldn't you?"
Viggo looked a bit more awake, then, his eyes widening. "Could I?"
Sean got up from the couch, then leaned over and gripped the armrest for a moment, waiting for the room to stop spinning. It did make sense, didn't it? "I slept with Elf boy in that damn tiny bed in th' trailer, now didn't I?" he sputtered. He sized Viggo up, letting go of the sofa and holding his hands out to try and visually measure Viggo's size. "You're bigger, but so's the bed, innit?"
And Viggo gave him a lopsided grin and grabbed Sean's arm so he could hoist himself up to a standing position. "Makes sense t'me," he slurred. He swayed a bit, then gestured grandly with one arm. "After you."
Sean was still grinning, and he turned to walk towards the French doors that led to the bedroom. Viggo hung onto his shirt and they stumbled across the carpet, occasionally giggling maniacally as they lost their balance and clutched at each other in an attempt to not fall over. Finally they made it to the bed, and they both used it to brace themselves as they moved to opposite sides.
Sean started pulling the covers off and Viggo helped him. "We're so domestic," Sean chuckled, feeling suddenly a bit strange about getting ready for bed with Viggo standing right there. Or attempting to stand, anyway. But he'd offered, and really, it would be all right. There was plenty of room, and he and Viggo were friends, and there was nothing to worry about, right? He pulled off his shirt and got into bed. His soft cotton shorts were comfy enough to sleep in, and the sheets felt nice and cool against his bare legs. Viggo promptly crawled in next to him, shirtless and wearing sweatpants. "You gonna be hot, mate?" he asked, looking down at Viggo's legs.
"Well," Viggo replied, folding one arm behind his head, "M'not wearin' underwear."
Sean snorted. "Do you ever?" He could feel himself flushing then, for some reason, and wondered if it was the alcohol. "Best leave 'em on then, eh?" He rolled onto his side, with his back to Viggo. "We'll leave the covers off, if you like, so you don't overheat."
"Mmm..." Viggo murmured, turning off the light and then settling back down. "Might happen anyway."
Sean couldn't really gather enough energy for a reply. Once his head had hit the pillow, he'd realized how tired he really was, and all the beer he'd consumed had settled deep in his blood. It was odd having Viggo there, but in a way it was comforting. He found he'd gotten used to sharing the trailer with Orlando, and when they were doing studio work and staying in hotels, he felt a bit lonely in a room by himself.
His eyes closed and he felt himself drifting a bit, into that soothing cloud of semi-consciousness that exists just before one drops completely into slumber. He was just barely aware of Viggo moving on the bed, the mattress shifting underneath them, and then suddenly Sean's back felt warmer. His mind pulled back, a sharp little pang in his temples as he tried to bring himself awake again.
His limbs were heavy with exhaustion, but his skin started to tingle, tiny goose bumps starting at his shoulders and going all the way down his body. It took a few moments to register, but he realized he could feel Viggo's breath on his back, warm puffs of air curling between his shoulder blades. There was more movement on the bed, and he felt Viggo's knee press against his leg. He felt a sudden wave of déjà vu pass over him, and he wondered if Viggo was going to try that spooning business, the same way Orlando had. He hoped Viggo's hands weren't as cold as the kid's had been.
They weren't. Sean's eyes opened abruptly as he felt one of Viggo's hands resting against his shoulder blade. The other hand touched his ribs, and then slowly started making circles over his back. Sean stared into the darkness, trying to focus on something in the room, trying to grasp if he were really awake or if he were dreaming. Or seeing pink elephants in his drunken stupor.
Though this didn't feel anything like a pink elephant. Viggo's hands were rough and callused, but the light scratching against Sean's skin was actually fairly pleasant. He thought of asking Viggo what he was doing, but his brain worked on it and discovered the important question was really why he was doing it. And by the time Sean's mind had reached that conclusion, Viggo was gently massaging his shoulder, and he realized he didn't care why. It felt nice, and if Viggo didn't mind, then who was Sean to complain?
Sean had done his fair share of swinging a sword around, plus all the running and stunts and all with four bloody layers of clothing and chain mail on. He hadn't realized how sore he was all over until Viggo had started touching him. The soothing fingers lightly traced his muscles, then dragged down his spine. They dipped under his arm and caressed his side all the way to his waist. Sean's muscles tensed for a moment at that, expecting it to tickle, but Viggo's touch was firm enough. Sean relaxed again, and let out a deep sigh.
A small part of his brain wondered if he should be worried. It wasn't exactly a usual occurrence, to be lying half-naked in a bed with his best mate, getting a back rub. In fact, he thought it might be something he generally would have avoided at all costs. That is, until that bloody tart Orli had slithered his way into Sean's bed, and corrupted him into thinking it wasn't so bad cuddling up under the blankets with a bloke. He tried to get his alcohol-soaked brain cells to contemplate this, and figure out when Sean Bean had become some other person entirely.
While his mind was holding this great debate, Viggo's right hand continued stroking his back. Down and up, across both shoulders, and back down again. And then Viggo hummed softly, his hand sliding down to Sean's arse. Sean felt his brain empty out onto the pillow, and he forgot to breathe.
"Sorry," Viggo murmured, his breath still hot against Sean's back.
Sean no longer had a brain, or breath to speak with, so he remained silent. He couldn't think, but he could feel, and every nerve-ending in his body seemed hyper-sensitive. He was acutely aware of Viggo's hand on his bum, firmly curved around one cheek, the heat of those rough fingers seeming to burn through the cotton to his bare flesh.
But then the hand was moving, dragging up Sean's back again, gently caressing the whole way before resting warmly against his neck. Viggo paused for a few moments, then started softly combing through Sean's hair with his fingers. Sean's eyes fluttered closed and he felt a thousand prickling sensations all over his scalp and straight down his spine. He finally managed a breath and involuntarily let out a soft moan; he couldn't help it, and he marveled at the fact that the hair thing seemed to be even better than the back massage had been.
Viggo must have found the moan encouraging, because he continued playing with Sean's hair for what seemed a long time to Sean. A gloriously long time. Sean held himself perfectly still, not wanting to do anything that would make Viggo stop. Since his brain was on strike, he couldn't really fathom how it was exactly, but he felt so good he didn't want it to ever stop. Every brush of Viggo's fingertips caused a soft wave of reactions from his body, the pleasurable tingles moving down his neck and abdomen and right to his cock.
Viggo's fingers eventually moved to Sean's face, tracing his cheekbone, following the line of his jaw, dipping into the curves of his ear. Sean sighed deeply, rolling forward onto his stomach so he could press his now achingly hard erection against the mattress. Ordinarily he might have done something about that, but he was too drunk, too tired, and too addled from Viggo's touches to even think about moving again. He let out another sigh, and was aware that Viggo had stopped moving, too. The wickedly delightful fingers had come to rest on the back of his neck, a warm and comforting presence.
Sean's brain gave one last muted spark, and he managed to locate three words he could use. "That were nice," he murmured, voice half-muffled by his pillow.
"Was it?" Viggo asked.
"Yeah." Sean tried to think of something proper, something to explain how he felt. "I think I've melted." Oh well.
Viggo made a sound that was perhaps a laugh, and then Sean felt him press up against his side. Viggo's lips were right at his shoulder, and he could feel them tickling his skin when his friend spoke again. "I told you I could be gentle."
And Sean smiled, and he felt Viggo cuddle closer, and later that morning, when the sun sliced through the gap in the curtains, he wondered when it was exactly that he had fallen asleep.
~~tbc
Pairing: SB/VM
Author: shrinetolust
Rated: R
Story: More silliness. Sean and Viggo have an interesting conversation. Sean's drunken logic provides Viggo with an opportunity.
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. Are you happy now? *G* ~ Leave a note here or mail me at shrinetolust AT hotmail.com
Crossposted: Oh, everywhere. I am a feedback whore.
Archive: My own LJ. Green Opals, Rugbytackling. Others, please ask.
Notes: Heavily edited as always but un-beta-ed. Please point out any glaring errors so I'm not embarrassed for too long! Many thanks to angiepen--her commentary on a previous chapter gave me a small bunny for this one. :)
WARNINGS: None.
**BIG SQUISHY THANK YOUs to loyaldreamer for my icon...*mwah!*
**Touching: (Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7)
It's been awhile, I know, so you might want to skim Chapter 7 for a refresher, as this one directly picks up from there...
Touching, Chapter 8
Sean waited to hear Orlando go out the side door, and listened to the indistinct murmur of voices for a few minutes. Then he dragged himself out of bed, glad that apprehension and lack of immediate stimulus had let his cock return to an almost normal state. He rummaged around in his suitcases, finding what he wanted and hastily pulling on a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. He walked out of his room, just as Orlando was coming back inside. "All clear, mate," Orlando grinned. "I'll fix up something to eat while you two talk, if that's all right."
Sean nodded, noticing that the kid was still wearing the ridiculously small tee-shirt. He also noticed that Orlando's nipples were erect and pushing against the thin fabric, and he gathered that it was still cold outside despite the sun.
And then he wondered what the hell he was doing looking at Orlando's nipples, for God's sake.
"Sean, are you all right?" Orlando asked. "Do you need anything?"
"A lobotomy, I think," Sean mumbled. "Or possibly castration."
Orlando looked startled, but amused. "Well, I daresay the first wouldn't change much, and the second would be a crime against humanity." He put a hand on Sean's shoulder. "Are you sure you're all right, mate?"
Sean shook off the thoughts and focused on Orlando's warm brown eyes, ignoring his cheeky comments for now. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Viggo's outside?"
"Waiting for you," Orlando answered. "I'll go see about them fixing the heat after brekkie, okay?" He smiled devilishly. "Unless you don't want me to, of course."
And Sean smacked Orlando's wee bum, for the second time in 24 hours. "Get out of my sight, you bloody tart."
Orlando giggled, skipping off toward the kitchen. "You're starting to sound like Ian!" he chirped cheerfully.
Sean groaned. It was true, he was turning gayer by the day. What the hell was he going to say to Viggo about all this? Best to get it over with, though, even if he wasn't sure exactly how. He pushed open the door and stepped outside.
"Hello there, friend," Viggo said quietly. He was sitting on one of the rickety lawn chairs just to the right of the steps, and Sean dragged another one over so they could sit next to each other.
"Guess we gave you a fright this morning." Sean tried to keep his tone light.
"Actually it was more of a shock. I didn't know you liked Orlando that way."
"WHAT?" Sean roared.
Viggo put a hand up in protest. "Sean, I'm right here."
Sean stared at him, horrified, but he tried to keep his voice down. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Well, Orlando said--" Viggo pointed a thumb back towards the trailer-- "he said you came on pretty strong. I can't quite imagine you grabbing his ass and then kissing him, but--"
"He--he--but I--but he--" Sean stammered, and he knew his face must be turning purple. "HE'S the one that rammed his fucking tongue down me throat!"
The window just above them abruptly slid open, and Orlando peeked out of it. "I did not!" he protested. "I only licked you!"
Sean jumped out of his seat and was about to grab Orlando by the ears, but Viggo put up a hand and stopped him. Orlando squealed and slammed the window, and Sean could see him run back towards the kitchen.
"Take it easy," Viggo laughed, urging Sean to sit down again. "I was just giving you shit."
"What?" Sean's horror at the situation was still muddling his brain.
"I was joking, Sean. I mean, it was a big fucking shock this morning. Extremely erotic, though." Viggo grinned at Sean's still horrified expression. "You and Orlando half-naked and entwined on a bed isn't exactly a boring sight."
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Sean grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. "I knew you'd make it even worse than it was."
Viggo cackled, his familiar raspy laugh sending tickling sensations up Sean's spine. "Yes, it must have been terrible. I could see how much you were suffering." He bumped their elbows together. "You know, when I told you that you could stand to be more affectionate with Orlando, I didn't think you'd take it quite that far."
Sean dropped his hand and glared at him. "I didn't take anything anywhere. What the fuck did the kid tell you--really?"
"He told me the truth. The heat went out, he was cold." Viggo shook his head, still laughing. "Only Orlando would have the balls to ask to crawl into bed with you."
Sean snorted. "I'm not a damn ogre, I keep telling you." Viggo merely arched an eyebrow, and Sean squirmed. "I wasn't happy about it, yeah, but it's not like I would have tossed him out a window."
Viggo continued to look at him. "I could definitely see you Elf-tossing. You didn't even want to kiss my cheek when I had the black eye because it would reduce your masculine image. I can't imagine what a pretty boy in boxer shorts asking to join you in bed must have done to you."
"I'm not a fucking homophobe!" Sean shouted, and of course some of the crew happened to round the corner of the trailer at just that moment. They did their best to hide their smiles, and hurried past. "I'm not," Sean repeated petulantly, in a much quieter voice.
"Sean."
Sean looked at Viggo, at his soft blue eyes and air-dried brown hair that was rustling gently against his face in the breeze. "Yeah, so maybe a little. But a person can change, can't they? Learn a few things?"
And that made Viggo smile, a genuine smile without any hint of a smirk. "Yes, yes they can."
"Well, all right then."
They sat in silence for awhile, arms pressed together, cool wind against their faces. Then Viggo said, "So, should I give my key to your trailer back? Really, I don't want to intrude on anything you and Orli get up to in your private time."
Sean snorted. "You're always a part of what Orli and I get up to, no reason to change that."
"Hmm." Viggo thought for a moment. "So, next time you two crawl into bed together, you'll give me a call?"
Sean grinned and looked him right in the eye. "I just might do that." And Viggo grinned back and Sean could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest again. He didn't even know what he was saying half the time these days, but he knew he liked it when Viggo smiled at him like that. That was about all he knew.
Viggo's grin didn't fade. "So, Orlando tells me you were flirting with him last night."
"Fuck, he were totally pissed off his arse. He was humping the doorframe for five minutes before he ever got to me."
"Still?" Viggo laughed. "He was doing that before I left."
"He's a horny lil bugger, that's for sure, but then everyone around here seems to be. Including you."
Viggo did his best to look innocent. "I don't know what you mean."
Sean reached into his pocket and fished out the tattered piece of notebook paper Viggo had given him. He held it up, Viggo's words clearly visible. "What's all this, then, about Sean and nakedness?"
Viggo snatched the list out of his hands and looked at it. "There's more writing here." He let out a hoot of laughter then, and Sean saw that he'd gotten to the "Women's names" version:
Violet
Ingrid
Gertrude
Greta
Orlando Ophelia
"You are too fuckin' cruel to him, you know," Viggo said, looking farther down the list. "Hmm....interesting how you used "Violet" for colors, flowers, and women's names."
"I couldn't decide if that was being really clever or just cheating," Sean chuckled.
"We'll say clever," Viggo decided. He read over the other puzzles, snickering as he went through the filthy words using Dom's name, and then he choked back his laughter as he read aloud in a theatrical voice: "'Orlando's exclamations (or commentary on his wardrobe): Outrageous, Ridiculous, Ludicrous, Asinine, Nonsensical, Delirious, and Outlandish'--I have this image now of you giggling like a lunatic when you were doing these."
"I were at that," Sean agreed ruefully. "I'm surprised they didn't kick me off the plane." He watched Viggo for a bit longer, feeling pretty good that he'd managed to amuse his friend with his silly attempts at wit. He really had enjoyed himself with the puzzles, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed being on an airplane. Or at least forgot he was on one, without the help of prescription drugs or alcohol. Instinctively his hand moved and curled around Viggo's wrist. "Seriously, though, Vig--I didn't know what you were on about when you gave that paper to me. But once I'd worked it out, the rest of me flight just passed by and it was over before I'd realized."
Viggo looked pleased. "I was hoping it'd take your mind off it. And maybe you'd drink less vodka," he teased.
"If you didn't want me to drink so much you shouldn't have put all that naked business in there," Sean told him. He let go of Viggo's arm and turned the sheet of paper over in Viggo's hands. "You forced me to retaliate."
Viggo looked down at it, and his smile faded suddenly. He stared at the words for a long time, so long that Sean started to sweat. He wondered suddenly if it had been such a good idea, that maybe he'd offended Viggo somehow. It was possible to take a joke too far, he expected. He leaned over a little, looking at the list, to see if it was possibly worse than he remembered.
Virile Vibrant
Irresistible Inspiring
Gorgeous Generous
Gentle Genius
Orgasmic Orgiastic
Maybe he'd gotten too personal? Sean never knew with Viggo...he usually felt like he could say pretty much anything to him, but a few times he'd hit something Viggo was unexpectedly sensitive about. And hurting Viggo's feelings always made Sean feel like the biggest arse in the world, so he tried to avoid it at all costs.
Desperate to break the silence, he looked at the words in front of him. "Your name's a lot harder than mine, you know. It weren't easy coming up with something for 'O'."
And Viggo gave a little half-smile then. "I think you did pretty well. I don't think I can be entirely blamed for the orgiastic thing, though--Dom's got to fit in there somewhere."
"He usually does--and enjoys it way too much, the tart," Sean chuckled. At Viggo's amused look, he grimaced. "And don't dare tell me I'm starting to sound like Ian."
"Actually, I was going to ask you why you chose this particular word for the second 'G'."
Sean looked down and saw Viggo's finger just under the word Gentle. Every muscle in his body tensed, and for a moment he wondered how the hell that word had gotten in there. But the obvious response came tumbling from his lips: "Well, you are, aren't you?"
Viggo stared back at him, a little surprised at first, but then his smile deepened. "If you'd like me to be, yes--I can be. Very."
And Sean opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Nothing at all. He was a complete blank, every cell wiped clean. It had happened again--Viggo had made his brain short-circuit. His breathing had stopped and his entire body had shut down, except for his damn cock--which was suddenly so hard it almost hurt.
The trailer door abruptly banged open, and Orlando hung out of the doorway, licking jam off of one thumb. "C'mon you two, tea and toast is on the table." With a flash of lanky limbs he disappeared again, leaving the door ajar.
Viggo stood up, and surveyed Sean's frozen state with a smile. "Saved by the Elf in the tight tee-shirt," he chuckled. "Better hurry up, Sean, I know how much you hate cold toast." He tucked the piece of notebook paper into a pocket and started to climb up into the trailer, then leaned back to say, "Oh, and there was one other thing I wanted to tell you."
Sean somehow managed to look up at him, and croaked out, "Yeah, what's that?"
"Those underwear of mine you borrowed? I think you should keep them. They look much better on you." He paused. "Especially with Orlando attached to them." He started laughing, and as he yanked himself up into the trailer, Orlando shouted out to him.
"What was I attached to?"
"Sean's underwear," Viggo replied, barely able to get the words out through his laughter. "They're mine, you know."
"How the hell did Sean get in your pants?" Orlando cried out, and just then the door slammed shut and Sean couldn't hear the rest.
Just as well. Sean covered his face and thumped his head against the side of the trailer. Maybe if he stayed outside, it would be cold enough that he'd freeze to death. But then his stomach rumbled, and he remembered something. He stood up and flung open the door to the trailer. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, he reflected. Or somethin' like that. Truth was, he really did hate cold toast.
~~
Two weeks went by, with a vigorous shooting schedule and lots of location work, and not much time for socializing. And then the weather turned to shit, and they were forced back to civilization, and working on indoor sets. The schedule eased up, blessedly, and allowed everyone some time for R&R. The first night there, Sean invariably found himself in his hotel room, staring at the blue screen on the telly and wondering when exactly he had dozed off. He turned his head slowly, grimacing at the ache in his neck, and saw that Viggo was in his usual position. Which was, of course, drunk and passed out, with his cheek pressed against Sean's arm, and snoring loudly. Sean wondered idly if Viggo had ever had his sinuses checked.
He lifted his free arm and examined his watch, waiting a moment or two until his eyes could focus on the numbers. Half past two in the morning, it was. Definitely time to crawl into bed. He and Viggo had the day off, but they had plans, and he really didn't want to be sleepwalking his way through them. No, best to get some proper rest, in a proper bed.
He started to slip away from Viggo, to let him take up his usual residence on the couch, when he thought about that proper bed bit. It didn't really seem fair for his friend to wake up with a stiff back, either. He grabbed a handful of Viggo's shirt and shook him.
Viggo's eyes slid open and his forehead wrinkled, no doubt as he tried to figure out where he was exactly. "WhatisitSean?" he mumbled, the words almost indistinguishable.
Sean felt a little fuzzy in the brain area himself, but Viggo still sounded funny to him, and he couldn't help grinning. "Time for bed, Vig."
"Obviously," Viggo said darkly. "S'why I was sleeping."
Sean started to laugh, but his head hurt too much so he stopped. "No, no couch for you today, I think. You need a proper bed."
Viggo was silent for a moment, then looked at him with bleary eyes. "Are you kickin' me out?"
"Am I?" Sean was confused--he hadn't actually thought that far ahead. There was only one bed, so he supposed it did mean that Viggo would have to go back to his own room. But it was so ridiculously late, and he really liked having Viggo there when he woke up. "Well," he considered. "You could jus' sleep with me, couldn't you?"
Viggo looked a bit more awake, then, his eyes widening. "Could I?"
Sean got up from the couch, then leaned over and gripped the armrest for a moment, waiting for the room to stop spinning. It did make sense, didn't it? "I slept with Elf boy in that damn tiny bed in th' trailer, now didn't I?" he sputtered. He sized Viggo up, letting go of the sofa and holding his hands out to try and visually measure Viggo's size. "You're bigger, but so's the bed, innit?"
And Viggo gave him a lopsided grin and grabbed Sean's arm so he could hoist himself up to a standing position. "Makes sense t'me," he slurred. He swayed a bit, then gestured grandly with one arm. "After you."
Sean was still grinning, and he turned to walk towards the French doors that led to the bedroom. Viggo hung onto his shirt and they stumbled across the carpet, occasionally giggling maniacally as they lost their balance and clutched at each other in an attempt to not fall over. Finally they made it to the bed, and they both used it to brace themselves as they moved to opposite sides.
Sean started pulling the covers off and Viggo helped him. "We're so domestic," Sean chuckled, feeling suddenly a bit strange about getting ready for bed with Viggo standing right there. Or attempting to stand, anyway. But he'd offered, and really, it would be all right. There was plenty of room, and he and Viggo were friends, and there was nothing to worry about, right? He pulled off his shirt and got into bed. His soft cotton shorts were comfy enough to sleep in, and the sheets felt nice and cool against his bare legs. Viggo promptly crawled in next to him, shirtless and wearing sweatpants. "You gonna be hot, mate?" he asked, looking down at Viggo's legs.
"Well," Viggo replied, folding one arm behind his head, "M'not wearin' underwear."
Sean snorted. "Do you ever?" He could feel himself flushing then, for some reason, and wondered if it was the alcohol. "Best leave 'em on then, eh?" He rolled onto his side, with his back to Viggo. "We'll leave the covers off, if you like, so you don't overheat."
"Mmm..." Viggo murmured, turning off the light and then settling back down. "Might happen anyway."
Sean couldn't really gather enough energy for a reply. Once his head had hit the pillow, he'd realized how tired he really was, and all the beer he'd consumed had settled deep in his blood. It was odd having Viggo there, but in a way it was comforting. He found he'd gotten used to sharing the trailer with Orlando, and when they were doing studio work and staying in hotels, he felt a bit lonely in a room by himself.
His eyes closed and he felt himself drifting a bit, into that soothing cloud of semi-consciousness that exists just before one drops completely into slumber. He was just barely aware of Viggo moving on the bed, the mattress shifting underneath them, and then suddenly Sean's back felt warmer. His mind pulled back, a sharp little pang in his temples as he tried to bring himself awake again.
His limbs were heavy with exhaustion, but his skin started to tingle, tiny goose bumps starting at his shoulders and going all the way down his body. It took a few moments to register, but he realized he could feel Viggo's breath on his back, warm puffs of air curling between his shoulder blades. There was more movement on the bed, and he felt Viggo's knee press against his leg. He felt a sudden wave of déjà vu pass over him, and he wondered if Viggo was going to try that spooning business, the same way Orlando had. He hoped Viggo's hands weren't as cold as the kid's had been.
They weren't. Sean's eyes opened abruptly as he felt one of Viggo's hands resting against his shoulder blade. The other hand touched his ribs, and then slowly started making circles over his back. Sean stared into the darkness, trying to focus on something in the room, trying to grasp if he were really awake or if he were dreaming. Or seeing pink elephants in his drunken stupor.
Though this didn't feel anything like a pink elephant. Viggo's hands were rough and callused, but the light scratching against Sean's skin was actually fairly pleasant. He thought of asking Viggo what he was doing, but his brain worked on it and discovered the important question was really why he was doing it. And by the time Sean's mind had reached that conclusion, Viggo was gently massaging his shoulder, and he realized he didn't care why. It felt nice, and if Viggo didn't mind, then who was Sean to complain?
Sean had done his fair share of swinging a sword around, plus all the running and stunts and all with four bloody layers of clothing and chain mail on. He hadn't realized how sore he was all over until Viggo had started touching him. The soothing fingers lightly traced his muscles, then dragged down his spine. They dipped under his arm and caressed his side all the way to his waist. Sean's muscles tensed for a moment at that, expecting it to tickle, but Viggo's touch was firm enough. Sean relaxed again, and let out a deep sigh.
A small part of his brain wondered if he should be worried. It wasn't exactly a usual occurrence, to be lying half-naked in a bed with his best mate, getting a back rub. In fact, he thought it might be something he generally would have avoided at all costs. That is, until that bloody tart Orli had slithered his way into Sean's bed, and corrupted him into thinking it wasn't so bad cuddling up under the blankets with a bloke. He tried to get his alcohol-soaked brain cells to contemplate this, and figure out when Sean Bean had become some other person entirely.
While his mind was holding this great debate, Viggo's right hand continued stroking his back. Down and up, across both shoulders, and back down again. And then Viggo hummed softly, his hand sliding down to Sean's arse. Sean felt his brain empty out onto the pillow, and he forgot to breathe.
"Sorry," Viggo murmured, his breath still hot against Sean's back.
Sean no longer had a brain, or breath to speak with, so he remained silent. He couldn't think, but he could feel, and every nerve-ending in his body seemed hyper-sensitive. He was acutely aware of Viggo's hand on his bum, firmly curved around one cheek, the heat of those rough fingers seeming to burn through the cotton to his bare flesh.
But then the hand was moving, dragging up Sean's back again, gently caressing the whole way before resting warmly against his neck. Viggo paused for a few moments, then started softly combing through Sean's hair with his fingers. Sean's eyes fluttered closed and he felt a thousand prickling sensations all over his scalp and straight down his spine. He finally managed a breath and involuntarily let out a soft moan; he couldn't help it, and he marveled at the fact that the hair thing seemed to be even better than the back massage had been.
Viggo must have found the moan encouraging, because he continued playing with Sean's hair for what seemed a long time to Sean. A gloriously long time. Sean held himself perfectly still, not wanting to do anything that would make Viggo stop. Since his brain was on strike, he couldn't really fathom how it was exactly, but he felt so good he didn't want it to ever stop. Every brush of Viggo's fingertips caused a soft wave of reactions from his body, the pleasurable tingles moving down his neck and abdomen and right to his cock.
Viggo's fingers eventually moved to Sean's face, tracing his cheekbone, following the line of his jaw, dipping into the curves of his ear. Sean sighed deeply, rolling forward onto his stomach so he could press his now achingly hard erection against the mattress. Ordinarily he might have done something about that, but he was too drunk, too tired, and too addled from Viggo's touches to even think about moving again. He let out another sigh, and was aware that Viggo had stopped moving, too. The wickedly delightful fingers had come to rest on the back of his neck, a warm and comforting presence.
Sean's brain gave one last muted spark, and he managed to locate three words he could use. "That were nice," he murmured, voice half-muffled by his pillow.
"Was it?" Viggo asked.
"Yeah." Sean tried to think of something proper, something to explain how he felt. "I think I've melted." Oh well.
Viggo made a sound that was perhaps a laugh, and then Sean felt him press up against his side. Viggo's lips were right at his shoulder, and he could feel them tickling his skin when his friend spoke again. "I told you I could be gentle."
And Sean smiled, and he felt Viggo cuddle closer, and later that morning, when the sun sliced through the gap in the curtains, he wondered when it was exactly that he had fallen asleep.
~~tbc