rugbytackle | Fic: 179 Days (VIggo/Bean, PG)

title: 179 Days
author:

stormatdusk
pairing: Viggo/Sean
rating: PG
disclaimer: This is only fiction. I don't know these people and I make no profit from this story.
a/n: written for

sons_of_gondor's Reflections: 50 Days of Viggo.

October 21, 2008
early morning

"Ah, you're awake."

"Mmmm. Morning, Sean. You look… cheery."

"I am. I am, because here we are again, Viggo."

"Here we are where?"

"In our bed, in our London house. Try to keep up, love."

"Huh?"

"Oh, you know… we're at that special time of year…"

"What, autumn?"

"Nah. We're at that most magical time of year when you are officially old -"

"Aw geez, here we go again."

" - and I am officially not."

"Good grief."

"For 25 wonderful weeks."

"You're insane, you know that, Sean?"

"179 days of bliss."

"Every year. Every year, you do this, and I never remember it's coming."

"That happens to old people: forgetting and whatnot."

"Oy."

"...Easily confused..."

"Go ahead and get it out of your system."

"...Getting themselves lost even in familiar places..."

"Yeah? Well, I didn't get lost on the way to your ass last night."

"No, but I suppose it's only a matter of time until you'll need a road map or some such…"

"I'll be happy to tattoo a giant "THE PARTY'S THIS WAY" on your butt if you like."

"Perhaps we should hire you a tour guide. I hear Orlando's got some free time…"

"A tour g-?! Alright, come'ere, you…."

"Viggo! You're crushing me!"

"What, a harmless old codger like me?"

"Yes! And you're squeezing my youthful, splendid wrists too hard."

"179 days, you said? That means I've got 179 days to boss you around."

"And now you're marring my youthful, splendid throat with your nasty old teeth."

"179 days to teach you to respect your elders."

"They're probably dentures, anyway."

"179 days to demonstrate the meaning of the phrase, "Leader of the Pack."

"Hell, seeing how old you are, they're probably made of wood. See that you don't give me any splinters!"

"That's it. Turn over, boy."

"Wha - - ? How'd you manage - - "

"One!"

"Ow!"

"Two!"

"Viggo, stop!"

"Three!"

"I'm a little old to be paddled like a child, I should think!"

"Not to someone as ancient as I am! Four!"

"Will you stop slapping me bum!"

"Not till we get to 179, you little brat. Five!"

"Alright, I give, I give! You're the most virile, sexy, youthful-looking fifty year old ever to grace the planet!"

"And?"

"And… I'll be spending every one of the next 179 days either worshipping your body or fantasizing about it!"

"Ooo, I like that. What else?"

"And… if you'll let me turn over and lay you out just so, I'll start my apologies with 179 warm, wet kisses, all over, from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes."

"Ooooo, that's good, that's very good. Great, even."

"And I'll whisper to you how much you mean to me, how you make life feel fresher and sweeter by just being here, and how fucking glad I am that I get to spend the next 179 days, and then the next and the next, trying to show you how much I love you."

"Aw, Sean! You already gave me a birthday present last night."

"Hush. Isn't a gift, it's just the truth. Now, shall I start in on those kisses?"

"Be my guest."

…

…

…

"Wait, Sean... 'Tour guide Orlando?'"

"Yeah, dunno where that came from. Billy's much better with directions."

eta: continued here