Viggo/Sean B
The first time Sean saw Viggo he was fighting Orlando with perhaps a little bit too much enthusiasm, ignoring the screams that veered between amusement and horror as he grabbed long blond hair and trapped Orlando in a headlock that even from where Sean was watching, looked painful.
"Gerrof, you bastard!" Not exactly elegant elf-speak, it seemed to get Orlando’s wishes across. "You bully!"
"Bad loser," Viggo mocked, releasing him and laughing as the dishevelled elf attempted to regain some dignity. "Always said elves were just big girls."
He turned away and caught Sean staring. Neither of them looked away.
*
The second time Sean saw Viggo, he was again with Orlando, sitting quietly away from the noise and bustle of the set. Orlando rarely sat quietly for anyone, but here he was, staring at Viggo’s lips as he spoke.
Sean felt a flare in his gut of something he didn’t want to name, because he was a tough northern bastard. Tough northern bastards didn’t fall in love with their male co-stars, And they certainly didn’t get jealous when said co-star was obviously with somebody else.
He was surprised when Viggo looked over, and he found himself caught in that gaze.
*
The third time Sean saw Viggo, he was with Elijah, and that made Sean smile, because Elijah made everybody smile. Elijah liked to be touched, to be hugged, which would explain why he was sitting so firmly on Viggo’s knee. Sean could hear a shrill American voice talking about music – groups he had never heard of, although he knew Viggo would recognise them.
He watched Elijah kiss Viggo’s cheek before sliding off his knee and walking away, and watched Viggo’s fond smile as he stood up. When Viggo looked at him this time, he nodded a greeting before making himself move.
*
The fourth time Sean saw Viggo, he was again with Elijah, and this time he didn’t smile, because Elijah was unhappy and a little bit lost, and that made everybody unhappy and lost. Viggo sat with his arm around Elijah’s shoulders, talking to him, and Sean moved and sat on Elijah’s other side, offering his own wordless comfort.
He looked at Viggo over Elijah’s bowed head and something passed between them before Viggo moved his fingers, stretching until he touched Sean’s shoulder in silent thanks.
Sean nodded, touching Viggo’s hand, before they both turned to the task of comforting Elijah.
*
The fifth time Sean saw Viggo was at a party. He didn’t like parties – could never think of anything to say – but he went to this one because Viggo would be there.
They leaned against the wall, their shoulders not quite touching, and watched Elijah and Orlando, drunk enough to shed their inhibitions, sit together on the sofa, their kisses deep and wet and desperate.
Viggo turned to Sean.
"They’ll be all right now."
"Young love," Sean replied, and Viggo nodded, his eyes leaving the couple on the sofa and fixing on Sean’s lips.
"It’s not always for the young."
*
The sixth time Sean saw Viggo, they were alone and Viggo’s hands were touching Sean’s chest, his neck and his face.
"Such a beautiful man," he said, and Sean, pulled away, embarrassed.
"You have amazing hands," he found himself saying. "I could look at your hands for hours." He reached out and tentatively, almost shyly, took one, feeling big and clumsy – which was ridiculous, because he and Viggo were of a similar size.
He raised long, elegant fingers to his mouth and let his lips rest against the skin, and this time when Viggo touched him, he didn’t pull away.
*
The seventh time Sean saw Viggo was the very next morning when he lay on his side and watched as he moved around the room, confident in his nakedness.
"You’re beautiful," Sean said, not foolish or forced; just natural.
Viggo smiled and moved to the bed, letting Sean push him down, cover him, their bodies a perfect fit. As Sean’s hips began to move, he wondered if he had found whatever it was he had been looking for during too many failed relationships.
Viggo’s nails digging into his shoulders made him arch, move harder. It had never felt so right.
*
The eighth time Sean saw Viggo, they said goodbye, Viggo’s kisses deep and sweet, Sean’s desperate and angry.
"I love you," he said. It was true, and from the look in Viggo’s eyes, he knew it as well, although he didn’t answer. Sean got angry then, and what should have been a romantic farewell turned awkward. As Viggo left, Sean realised he had been too rough, had hurt him, and that preyed on his mind as he climbed on the plane to England. He was so ashamed that he didn’t contact Viggo, and every morning he prodded the Viggo-shaped bruise on his heart and hoped it was healing.
*
The ninth time Sean saw Viggo was after a performance of MacBeth when he returned to his dressing room and flung open the door, still full of the tragedy of the Thane.
"I missed you," Viggo said calmly, gazing at his reflection in the mirror. "And I knew you wouldn’t make the move."
He stood up and touched Sean then, gently in the way he liked so much, and Sean smiled, and then laughed, throwing back his head and laughing until he was dizzy.
"Love’s wasted on the young," he said when he had recovered. "Let’s keep it for ourselves."
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