My first offering here so... *is nervous*
Apr. 13th, 2005 05:34 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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rugbytackleTitle: THE MOUNTAIN BOWS
Author: Dea (deawrites@aol.com)
Archive: Not unless you ask first. I'm easy, but I like common courtesy.
Rating: R to NC17 and beyond.
Pairing: Sean Bean & Viggo Mortensen
Guests: character of Wayne and mention of "Perry Elly" from "Essex Boys"
Warnings: Homoerotic material ahead. Unbeated for I wish to be held solely accountable.
Summary: Once upon a time there was a man who lived as a recluse in the mountains and one day an Englishman stumbled into his life.
Disclaimers: The real/fictional characters that do not belong to me are only versions of the same from my mind. No slander or profit intended.
Dedication: Cokie who keeps telling me I'm wasting my time when I do anything but write.
THE MOUNTAIN BOWS
He liked the quiet, the serenity of the mountains. Being alone was something Viggo was accomplished at. He had become quite adept at being an introverted person that just passed under the radar of the populace. He smiled but said little, skirted the shadows and stayed out of the way. Viggo had a family yes; people who loved him in addition to an ex-wife he never spoke to and a son--- Viggo closed his eyes. No, he wouldn't think about his son, Henry. The pain seared him to the bone, scarred his surface and left him a hermit. Before Henry's death Viggo had not been a wall flower but near enough to the center of life and now? He was content to spend his days in his mountain cabin and live quietly, peacefully until his time to die arrived.
Watching the sunrise Viggo zipped up his down coat and walked off of the porch in direction of the stream he visited each morning and evening. He liked to watch some of the deer come and drink, to check the progress of the growth of their young and commune with nature until the sun reached a little higher in the sky, or sank into the depths of the mountain ranges beyond. It was his habit and he walked the worn pathway hidden by foliage that only he or other animals disturbed. His thoughts were of his body, of the weather, of the sounds of the forest, of nothing in particular and Viggo preferred that route to the stress of city life, of metropolitan mindsets and global fan fair.
This was peace and he was fortunate enough to be living in it.
~~~
"Bugger!"
Sean lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke through his nostrils, a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips as his cohort Wayne struck the front fender of their appropriated jeep and slammed the open hood closed.
"Pointless is it?"
Wayne glared at Sean. "Fuck all it is! Now we're stuck in shite falls no where and we've a schedule to keep-"
"But we're sitting pretty enough." Sean mused hooking a thumb in indication of the two athletic bags full of unmarked and laundered currency on the passenger side floor of the jeep.
Wayne's hands went to his hips. "What're y'saying Bean? That we should take the money and run?"
Sean took another drag of his cigarette. "Perhaps I'm saying we should take what we acquired through our own efforts, split the matter even, and saunter off to parts where the women are dark skinned and living is cheap."
Wayne looked back over his shoulder at the jeep, and then scanned the incline of the two-lane road up the mountain face before settling his stare upon Sean once more. A wicked grin opened his mouth to show all of his teeth. "I had you pegged as a fucking boy scout. Thought y'd take the money t'Perry soon as take it f'yourself."
Sean shrugged and dropped the cigarette to the gravel shoulder and crushed out what was left of it beneath his boot heel. He wet his lips and looked at Wayne. "You want t'work for 'Perry Elly your whole life? Or never work again?"
The decision was a short one and Wayne walked over to the jeep and reached for the passenger side door. "I say, why didn't we think of this sooner?"
"Don't know." Sean informed him shaking his head and reaching into his weathered highland jacket to retrieve his cigarettes.
"Well, you're a fucking surprise, Bean." Wayne praised opening the door and reaching down for the sawed off shotgun between the seat and the door.
"You're not." Sean said his smile inverted, eyes cold and features fixed, the nine-millimeter gun in his hand instead of the cigarettes. Wayne turned his face to him just as Sean pulled the trigger, the bullet entering Wayne's skull between the eyes, and exiting out the back of his head. Sean watched the body fall backward onto the gravel road and slowly checked his clip, put on the safety and tucked his gun back in his jacket once more.
Sean shook his head and walked over to Wayne's corpse and knelt beside it. He reached inside his jacket once more and with drew a piece of wire and showed it to Wayne's glazed over eyes. "Don't know shite one about cars do you mate?"
Sean rose to his feet and reached inside the jeep cab to pop the hood once more. He raised it and put the engine to rights and spent the next half hour wrapping Wayne's body in the black tarps he had purchased for this very purpose and loaded the corpse into the jeep. He cleaned away the evidence he could by the roadside with water and by shifting the dirt and gravel around to conceal any bone fragments or gray matter left behind. Ants or birds would feast upon those and Sean drove the jeep up the mountain face until the pavement became dirt and he found a road to turn off of. He buried Wayne, wiped down the jeep of his prints, and finally rid himself of the jeep and shovel off a steep incline into a thick tree covered valley and it's lake far below. The money he shoved into his nap sack with his own meager belongings and hoisted it onto his shoulders. He began the slow walk back to the main road.
It would be nightfall soon enough and he had to vanish from the scene of the crime. Perry was right; Wayne was a loose cannon and couldn't be trusted. Sean smiled to himself and pulled a cigarette out of his jacket and paused in his stride to light it. Once finished he continued walking, a slick smile pasted upon his lips.
He was a few million dollars richer and Perry Elly was in the market for another henchman.
~~~
An hour later Sean frowned. Where the bloody blazes was the main road? He was heading up hill, that much he was certain but had he gotten turned around? He hadn't driven that far off the main highway such as it was and yet he strongly felt he should have been back to it by now. He was beginning to worry and the sun was climbing higher overhead making the going tougher. He was getting a bit hot, perspiration dotting his brow and he could feel it seep from his armpits. He had walked into another cluster of gnats and the little black bugs were more annoying than Wayne's constant chattering when he was high, and Sean didn't think ANYTHING could irritate him more than that. He waved sharply at the damned bugs, wishing he could shoot a few of them to teach the remainder to leave him be, but that was not a wise choice.
And where the bloody, buggering, bullocks was the fucking road??? Another two hours in and Sean knew he was lost and he was quite upset about it. The sun was going to be setting soon and he was tired, hungry and quite beyond thirst. People could die from exposure in the mountains regardless of having some survival training as he did. Furious and determined to live Sean paused and listened. Water. He heard it in the distance and he closed his eyes and focused in on the sound to locate its origin. Sean opened his eyes and adjusted his course and prayed he would have far more luck locating the stream than he had the main road.
The rushing, bubbling water was a sight for sore eyes and Sean pulled off his backpack and lowered it to a large rock at the bank side before dropping to his knees. The water was ice cold and numbed Sean's fingers as he cupped his hands to drink, then splash water over the back of his neck and face. No water had ever tasted so good to him and he hoped nothing in it was toxic. He drank more wishing he had a canteen to fill; it didn't matter. He would most likely spend the night near the water's edge just for the sake of it. Perhaps he could snare a rabbit or something to eat. Sean looked around and listened, he felt like he was being watched and not by some animal or imaginary predator either.
At sunset Viggo returned to the river and washed his hands of anything he had touched during the day that conventional washing could not rid him of. It was a ritual and he enjoyed watching the tattooed "H" on his left wrist distorted by the stream. It gave him a sense of symmetry that nothing else had. Sighing softly Viggo kept his hand submerged to the forearm until his fingers were numb. Slowly raising his hand and drying it on a corner of his flannel shirt he looked up and immediately noticed that he was not alone. Down the bank there was a man tearing off a backpack and throwing himself to the ground to drink. Cautious and curious at the same time, Viggo withdrew into the trees, inching closer to see if he could catch a glimpse of the stranger's face.
While he realized being a hermit had its advantages, this was not someone Viggo recognized from the local town. And a man alone in the woods could be a lethal combination if said person wasn't prepared for it as Viggo was, and even then there were questionable moments. Viggo elected to error on the side of compassion and slowly stepped out towards the man, who rose to his feet quickly and whirled around to face him. His stern expression almost looked guilty of some grave injustice and Viggo could openly sense his fear.
"Are you lost?"
"Lost enough." Sean rubbed his head, flinching like it was tender. "Got a nasty bump. Not sure where 'here' is. Looking for a main road. Wouldn't happen to know the way?"
He could have been camping with others, fallen, was being searched for. Perhaps on a hike, there was a variable of uncertainty in the man's way and Viggo sensed it was genuine: at the very least his vulnerability seemed as such. Viggo pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
"It's going to be dark in about five minutes. You can't make it to the main road by then. Are you with anyone?" Sean shook his head, looking like he was a cat who had fallen into the river and nearly drown. "To be safe, you should stay the night with me. We can get you back down the mountain in the morning."
Sean's forehead wrinkled. "Stay with you?"
Viggo nodded. "I have a cabin just up the trail." Viggo hooked a thumb over his shoulder in indication. "My name is Viggo."
Sean looked from the river, to his backpack and finally at the man who stood a few feet away from him. His options were limited and obviously Viggo knew this. "M'Sean. I take it you 'have room for two in your cabin?"
Viggo nodded. "Grab your gear and come on." Viggo turned slowly and found the trail, pausing only to see if Sean was following him. The Englishman hoisted his nap sack onto his back and the two men made their way up the trail. Neither said anything, there was no need on Sean's part and Viggo was thankful for the man's silence. In a matter of minutes they were at Viggo's front porch and he opened the screen and then hard door for his lost companion.
Sean said nothing as he stepped inside. The cabin was lavishly built on the inside, though simplistic. It had an incredibly welcoming feel and Sean was impressed by the minimalist decor. He nodded in approval and Viggo lead him further inside. "Here's the bathroom." He stated pointing. "You can wash, change your clothes; do you have something to change into?" Sean assured him that he had another outfit and Viggo nodded and took off his coat and motioned to Sean for his.
"You can stow your pack in the mud room by the back door." Viggo pointed in the direction of the kitchen and a small anti-room adjacent it. "There's room on the floor or a shelf on the wall. Whichever you're more comfortable with. Don't worry; I'm not the curious type with things. I have all I need; more than actually." Viggo quickly disappeared into said room and hung up their coats and left his hiking boots in there, pulling on a pair of moccasin slippers lined with sheepskin over his socks.
When Viggo returned a few seconds later he motioned to the living area. "You'll have to sleep on the couch. It's more than comfortable; I've slept on it before; and I'll have a fire going." There was a fire smoldering just then and Viggo moved to add more wood to it.
"I'd like a wash." Sean announced moving toward the bathroom door. "Won't be but a tick. And if I may, can I trouble you for a snack? I'm on the other side of peckish."
Viggo placed the poker back in its holder and dusted off his hands upon the legs of his jeans. "Sure. That can be arranged." Viggo nodded and moved into the small kitchen area as Sean issued his gratitude and closed the bathroom door behind him.
Viggo fixed them beef sandwiches and a mug each of tomato soup while Sean bathed. While it felt strange fixing a meal for someone other than himself Viggo was comforted by the fact that it would be just one night, two meals at the most and then his cabin would be devoid of company once more. Strangely enough, Viggo realized that thus far Sean seemed like quite the respectable guest. Their silence had been comfortable as they walked to the cabin and Viggo had almost felt like they fit together in some odd, indescribable way.
Sean allowed the hot water to cascade over his body and wash away the grime of his hike through the nether regions of civilization, as well as the evidence of the murder. While he didn't enjoy killing people, he hardly blinked an eye at it any longer. And why should he? He was hired to do what other people could not, or would not do themselves and he was paid handsomely for it. Perry Elly had hired him numerous times; on this occasion it was to ferret out Wayne's greed and slovenly attitude towards business. The money they had 'acquired' was to become Sean's pay. Not that Perry knew that, not exactly. Sean had hinted at it during their communications but for the moment he was acting as 'finders keepers' and if Elly wanted any of this money he would have to find Sean.
And that was going to prove impossible since Sean had something to say about it this time. Last big score, he was getting out. His funds were safe in off shore accounts and he had the nice cash bonus in hand. Sure he was stuck in the mountains for the night but the company didn't seem unpleasant. In fact, the quiet man with the sad blue eyes seemed willing to let Sean be and that was just fine by him. Questions lead to confessions and Sean wasn't prepared to tattle on himself. It was best he kept to the 'I've a bump on m'head' story and leave it at that. Let Viggo fill in the dots where he wished to and come up with a story more infinitely interesting than Sean's lie.
He dried himself with the available towels and shoved his dirty clothes into his knapsack, and checked his reflection in the mist steamed mirror and exited the bathroom. His stomach rumbled at the scent of soup and he smiled at Viggo as he entered the 'mud room' and placed the back pack on the next to naked pine shelf, noting their coats hanging on pegs beneath it. Sean pulled his shirt down in the back and reentered the kitchen to join Viggo at a small nook like table and booth seat. He sat opposite his host, issued quick thanks for the grub and settled down to eat.
Viggo hadn't bothered bringing them spoons for their soup, preferring instead to sip it from the mug. He watched Sean nearly inhale the beef, tomato, and lettuce sandwich nearly whole before he relaxed a bit and began upon the soup. Viggo tentatively pushed his sandwich plate in Sean's direction and caught the man's gaze over the rim of his mug.
"Are you suggesting that you aren't able to eat that?" Sean motioned to the plate. Viggo nodded. "Right, suit yourself then." Sean picked up the plate, set it upon his own and took a large bite out of the sandwich.
Viggo's lips curled into a smile and he sipped at his soup content to watch the carnage befalling the sandwich. The man was hungry and Viggo was all too willing to share. After eating more than three quarters of the sandwich Sean slowed in his mauling of the food and ate the rest like a civilized man. By the time he was drinking his soup the liquid had cooled enough for him to take gulps if he wished without burning his mouth. Viggo had long since finished his soup and was content to watch his guest.
"I should be able to take you down around seven thirty-eight o'clock tomorrow morning. Is that all right?"
Sean nodded and swallowed his mouthful of soup. "S'fine. Cheers; thank you. I hate to be a bother like this. You know I could walk-"
"There's no need. It would take you too long and I don't want to risk you spending the night in the wilderness. It's too dangerous."
Sean frowned. "Too many buggering gnats as well." Viggo cocked his head to one side, obviously uncertain of what Sean was referring too. "Those little black bugs wait for you to walk into their nest and you can't shake them for ages. I hate the bloody things."
Viggo laughed, the sound genuine and deep. "It's part of nature's allure. I've run into my fair share of gnat maelstroms. How long were you lost?"
Sean shrugged. "Seemed like bloody ages. I'll never go hiking again that's for certain; it's too bloody dangerous. And the bugs...."
"Better them than the bear or puma that frequent these parts. If you were out at night you would have probably run into a wolf or two."
Sean set his soup mug down; it was empty. "You've seen them?"
"Once in a while. Mostly I hear them calling to one another at night." Viggo rose and took Sean's dishes and placed them in the sink. The coffee he had put on to brew was ready and he pored them a couple of fresh mugs. "Do you take cream or sugar?" Sean shook his head. "Man after my own heart."
Sean thanked him for the coffee and felt what little tension in his muscles he still harbored completely dissipate. Viggo had a calming effect on him; and he made a delectable sandwich. Sean blew upon his coffee before taking a silent sip. "MMMm. S'good."
"Thank you." Viggo covered his smile of pride with his own mug. "I ground it myself. I have this antique grinder and-" Viggo paused. "It's not a really interesting sorry. I'm sorry. I don't have company often, well, EVER so I'm not the best story teller."
"You're doing fine." Sean praised. "Besides, I owe you for the shelter and food. Plus having a wash was just the thing."
"If we can't help one another there's no point to us existing." Viggo mused recalling how excited Henry got whenever they helped a person in need. He shook his head pushing the thought away. "It's something my son taught me."
"Yeah? Where's he?"
Sean immediately regretted asking the question as Viggo's expression fell and the atmosphere of the room became weighted. Viggo cleared his throat. "There's a grave marker out back where I placed his ashes. Henry would have been seventeen this winter. But he died when he was seven. Car." Viggo lowered his head and stared into the depths of his coffee; there was nothing more to say past how the machines in hospital had kept Henry alive longer than they should have, so Viggo left it at that.
"Henry's a good English name."
Viggo raised his stare to Sean's and felt himself smiling through the prickle of his tears. The man understood how to acknowledge Viggo's pain without insisting he reside in it with him. "It's a great American name too."
Sean waved off the brag. "You're just a bunch of colonist yanks. Deserters."
Viggo laughed and abruptly forgot that a second before he felt like crying. Yes, there was something odd yet indescribably charming about this man. Sean made him feel something other than grief, or solitude. "You English taxed us beyond reason. You were greedy so we fired you."
Sean glared at Viggo in mock offense. "Ingrate. Without us y'd have had nothing."
"Without you the indigenous peoples of North America would still be the majority of the populace here today."
Sean sneered. "And the Spanish and French would have left them be? I doubt it." Viggo arched an eyebrow obviously unimpressed. "Wanker."
"Reduced to name calling already? I thought you Europeans were more refined then that."
Sean laughed and gave Viggo the two-finger salute and took a sip of his coffee. "I like you Viggo mate. You're not half bad for a yank."
"I like you too Sean." Viggo felt something in the pit of his stomach he had not experienced for what seemed like a lifetime. It was a little flutter; the tiniest of twinges and then Viggo felt the blush rising to his cheeks.
Sean watched the change in Viggo's gaze and manner as he took a lengthy sip of his coffee. There was desire rumbling in Viggo's blue eyes and it was slowly building. Perhaps Sean wouldn't be sleeping on the couch after all; perhaps his host would invite him to his bed. With a little prompting upon Sean's part he figured he could see what was underneath the layers of clothes the grieving man wore.
"What does one do on dark nights here?"
Viggo shrugged and managed to look up from his coffee. "In the summer star gaze, in the winter, read by the fire. I'm not a very exciting person."
"Exciting enough." Sean liked the startled expression that Viggo flashed him. "What with your penchant for rescuing the wandering in need."
"I know a few of the Rangers that work at the state park. They've trained me a little, besides I couldn't let you die from exposure. It's a very painful death."
"Not interested in dying, me." Contradicting his statement Sean reached into his shirt front pocket and withdrew his dwindling pack of cigarettes. "Mind if I have a fag?"
Viggo wet his lips and stared at Sean for several seconds before slowly rising to stand. He hunted through the cabinets and managed to find a crystal ashtray. He closed his eyes and blew into the center to free it from dust, then surrendered to using the corner of his flannel shirt to wipe away the particles before placing the object down on the table.
Sean thanked him and lit his cigarette and smoked for a few seconds in silence watching Viggo. The man's eyes didn't leave Sean's hand holding the cigarette, fixated on the movement from mouth and away, to mouth once more. Sean exhaled the smoke through his nostrils and cleared his throat. This prompted Viggo to lock gazes with him immediately and a slow smile crept across Sean's features.
"It's a frightful habit."
Viggo swallowed his throat feeling abruptly dry. "I, I don't-"
"But you did."
Viggo blushed and picked up his coffee mug. "I quit when Henry was born."
"Then you shouldn't start up again now."
Viggo tilted his gaze out of the kitchen window at the darkened sky outside. Night fell quickly in the mountains, something about being closer to heaven he was certain, or something nearly as poetic. His expression filling with sorrow he looked back at Sean once more. "It's a habit I should forget. If I don't, I'll have to spend more in town when I go down the mountain for supplies. Or I'll find myself going more often if I start chain smoking." Sometimes Viggo felt he acted in nothing but extremes.
"So were you a chain smoker before?"
Viggo's blush returned. "No."
"Then you should be able to resist." Sean wet his lips with a quick swipe of his tongue before bringing the cigarette to his mouth once more. "Steady on..." Sean exhaled the smoke. "There's a good man."
The fingers of Viggo's left hand stroked the grain pattern of the table surface and he inched forward in his seat, his gaze fixating upon Sean's cigarette. He wet his lips. Desire honed his features, pursing his lips with longing, his body nearly subconsciously smoking the fag WITH Sean.
"No."
Viggo studied Sean's expression. For the Englishman the matter was that simple, don't act, leave it alone, and stop: there was no gray area to be tripped up by. Viggo chewed on his bottom lip for a moment and ran a hand back through his hair before slowly reaching out to his guest.
"May I?"
Sean sighed disapprovingly and fished in his shirt for the packet once more. He took the entire thing out and placed it in Viggo's hand then reached for his silver Zippo lighter. Viggo leaned across the table, cigarette in hand and the pack on the table top between them. Sean touched the flame to the cigarette tip, the act sensual as he watched Viggo inhale smoke for the first time in years. Viggo sat back in his chair and puffed happily for a few minutes in silence enjoying his coup de grais and closing his eyes.
"Is it worth all the fuss it's going to cause you?"
"Yeah." Viggo breathed out twin streams of smoke from his nostrils. He opened his eyes and locked gazes with Sean who was very softly laughing at him, but once their eyes held Viggo realized that there was more to Sean's smirk than just amusement. "By tomorrow morning I'll most likely curse your name for tempting me."
Sean's eyebrows furrowed. "Don't blame me, mate. You wanted it before I even asked. One addict to another, don't try o 'pull the wool over my eyes." He winked at Viggo and took a drag on his own cigarette. "What are we reading tonight?"
"Not a damn thing." Mused Viggo lazily as he brought a knee up to his chest and rested his elbow upon his knee. He flicked some ash from his cigarette into the ashtray and looked at the burning paper before raising his stare to Sean's, inspiration abruptly seizing him. "Unless you feel like reading to me."
Sean contemplated the offer and asked, "Got any Yeats? Shakespeare?"
"No."
"Pity." Sean took another drag upon his cigarette and flicked some ash into the ashtray as well. "We'll have to reduce ourselves to telling one another stories. I've heard 'actual' conversation is a dying art."
Viggo inhaled on the cigarette and contemplated the rumbling purr of Sean's voice. He decided that even if Sean read the ingredients off a can of soup or beans, he'd be lost in the sinful sound. "I'd like that."
Sean laughed, the rumble in his chest almost predatorily in nature. He eyed Viggo keenly. "Hosting the revival of conversation? I bet you would."
Viggo flicked ash and noticed that Sean's eyes were lightly brushing up the bare skin of his forearm, witnessing the graceful twist of his writ as he brought the cigarette to his lips. There was interest there and raw need that matched Viggo's in kind.
"Am I that transparent?"
Sean shook his head and crushed out the remainder of his cigarette. "You're lonely is all. Could be a blind man and see that."
The seductive mask fell from Viggo's features and he stared at Sean. "I, I-" The explanation ended there and Viggo looked down at the table surface. Minutes ticked by and neither man said anything and finally Viggo was forced to rest his cigarette in the ashtray, content to watch it burn down to the filter.
"Ten years ago," He stated distantly not daring to raise his gaze to Sean's. He knew the Englishman was listening to him. "My world shattered and I stopped living. My son was dead, and I just," Viggo shook his head searching for the appropriate wording. He pulled his lips into his mouth for a breath and then continued, "stopped." He looked away, his eyes closing and he rest his forehead against the heel of his hand.
"I blamed my wife for his death. I know I shouldn't have, but she was driving and she-" Viggo tore his face away from his hand and looked at Sean, his blue gaze misting with memories he never spoke of. "I walked way from her, she eventually served me with papers and I signed them. Didn't read them, I didn't care. I had nothing worth a damn anymore: Henry was dead."
Viggo shrugged. "I had this land so I pooled what money I could get my hands on and built this cabin. Did most of the work myself. It didn't matter that it took me about four years to complete. Time doesn't give pause for humanity so I stopped giving thought to it." Viggo swallowed and stroked his palm over the table surface. "I stopped believing everything. God's a joke we tell ourselves so we can stand living another day."
Viggo pressed his long fingers to his lips and Sean waited patiently for him to continue. Viggo shifted in the booth seat and looked for the entire world a little boy who was trying to pay attention in the adult world but had too much energy to maintain a stationary position for too long.
"It's been eight years since I've been hugged, let alone touched in anyway by another person. Isn't that...odd?"
Sean considered his words carefully. While the self-imposed isolation sounded a bit extreme and impractical, Viggo's mourning was a valid enough reason to want to withdraw from the world that had betrayed him. Father's weren't supposed to out live their sons and burry them: But often enough they did just that.
"No. Is that what you want from me? Is to be held? Platonically touched-"
"Yes, but more. Maybe, I-" Viggo ran a hand back through his hair pulling the strands hard. "It's complicated."
"It isn't." Sean reasoned gently. "You're afraid."
A smile slowly crept across Viggo's lips and he pointed at Sean grinning. "Yes."
Sean shrugged his left shoulder. "So we take it a step at a time." He reached for the cigarette packet and took out a fag. "As I see it, you're the host so we'll work on your time table."
Gratitude washed through Viggo and he caught his breath watching Sean use his lighter. "What if it takes more than tonight for me to be comfortable enough to, to touch you first?"
Sean smiled as he exhaled smoke. "I won't fuss about for a decade, but I will give you as long as a fortnight."
Viggo laughed softly and reached out for the cigarettes. "In that case...Tomorrow we'll go down the mountain and pick up some more food and cigarettes."
Sean held out the lighter, the flame dancing with Viggo's breath. "And a book're two."
Relaxed, Viggo sat back in the bench seat. "Deal."
~~~
The fire kept dying to almost embers before Viggo would move from his comfortable lounging position on the floor to place more wood on it, or stoke the flames a little with the poker . Sean was comfortable in the crook of the arm and back couch cushions, turned just slightly to face Viggo and quite content to cuddle himself in a blanket and stay that way. They had a few mugs of coffee, but those mostly went untouched as their conversations required their primary focus.
Sean talked about European football matters, gardening and politics, while Viggo regaled him with tales of his tribulations and victories building the cabin, survival training he had received from the Rangers, and observations he had made about nature. Together they discussed books they had loved, art, music, and general points constructing their characters. The night stretched out to the early hours of the morning and neither man seemed to notice the shift of the world outside of Viggo's cabin.
Viggo had his right leg extended, resting along the bottom of the couch, the other he bent, the knee pulled against his chest, his right elbow pressing into the couch, his hand supporting the weight of his head. He gazed at Sean, his blue eyes sparkling with admiration, gratitude, lust and weary caution. A slight smile played at the corners of his mouth and he blinked, elongating the action and then wet his lips with a deliberate swipe of his tongue before addressing Sean.
"How did you really end up with me...here?"
Sean ran a hand back through his blond hair, slitting his eyes as he studied Viggo for an instant. Did the man want the truth? Now, when they were getting on so well? Or was he merely questioning fate? There was a version of the truth that might satisfy all parties and Sean decided to use it.
"A mate and I were on our way t'the next county. There's an airport there. He had business elsewhere and I was along for company. We had a falling out and I, I end up at the roadside alone." Sean shrugged. "I should have stayed on the road and gone back down the mountain but, I got it in me head that I was an intrepid explorer and fancied a nature walk. I ended up falling on m'arse, bumping my head, and lost." He motioned to Viggo. "But by the grace of you, I'm safe, sated and quite content thank you."
Viggo considered Sean's explanation finding it believable to a point; a point he didn't feel like questioning just yet. He nodded and rubbed his forehead on the heel of his hand before addressing his guest once more. "So I'm not keeping you from anything; or anyone; by asking you to stay?"
"No, Viggo. I've nothing waiting for me that's pressing." Playfulness crinkled at the corners of Sean's green eyes and he smiled. "At least for a fortnight."
Viggo relaxed, lowering his arm and laying his head upon it. "Good. Because I am really, really enjoying myself. And for once, I want to be greedy and just take all I can get."
"Greed is an odd bit of human nature isn't it?" The tips of Viggo's fingers were stroking the outer seam of Sean's jeans. Though he could not feel their warmth through the thick material, the knowledge of what they were doing excited him. "In your particular case, I don't see it as your being selfish. But in other instances; say, a best mate betraying you and setting you roadside, because his vanity was to be guilded by business savvy; then that leaves allot to be desired."
Viggo pulled his lips into his mouth and watched Sean's features carefully, intrigued by the movement of his bold fingers. "I think I'm being selfish. Here you are, an individual that's entitled to his own choices, and I want to make up your mind for you. I want to do anything in my power to ensure that you won't leave."
Sean laughed and leaned forward, the blanket falling open as his torso rest over his lap, his face just inches from Viggo's. "You considering tying me up in your 'mud room' and keeping me hostage against my will?"
Viggo looked from Sean's mouth to his eyes, taking his time in answering. "Not being prone to violence, I would use other means. Say, anything SHORT of tying you up; feeding you by hand; regulating the expulsion of bodily fluids-" Viggo's smile intensified with lust. "and the like...."
Sean sneered in distaste at the impracticality of such captivity, and held Viggo's stare completely in his own. "I'll handle my own expulsions if that's all right by you mate."
"You already told me you want to stay. That means we don't have a conflict of interest, Sean."
Sean looked at Viggo's lips, his eyes and back again feeling the incredible heat of Viggo's stare. It was as if he were being touched by the man's hands and not his eyes. It was time to altar the present path of their seduction. "Are you really insisting that I sleep on this couch by myself?"
Viggo's head retreated some, surprise filling his tone. "You, you want to sleep in my room? With me?"
"Is it a big bed?"
"It's a queen."
"That's sufficient for the two of us I would think."
Viggo swallowed and the hand at the outside of Sean's thigh twitched, moving to pat Sean's chest instead, fingers clenching involuntarily in the cotton of the shirt Sean was wearing. "Do you care which side you sleep on?"
A sly smirk curled the corners of Sean's mouth. "Who says I'm sleeping on a 'side'?"
Viggo swallowed, the sound exiting like a groan of air. The implication of Sean's body resting either above or below his own brought him instantly to sensory overload. His body trembled slightly and he was half grateful, half cursing the fact that Sean chose this exact instant to sit back. Fingers still entangled in cotton, Viggo jerked forward and Sean chuckled, closing his hand over Viggo's and reaching out with his unoccupied hand to stroke the side of Viggo's face.
"I promise, I'm not going anywhere, Viggo... Relax."
"O-okay." Viggo cleared his throat to steady his voice and loosened his grip on the cotton but didn't quite release it all together; not yet. "Are you,...tired?" It wasn't suave but Viggo wasn't up to the launch of a full-scale seduction: The truth would suffice.
"Bones are a little stiff. I could do with a lie down. However- I'm enjoying our discussion."
"Me too." They could agree and Viggo relaxed, He finally released his hold of Sean's shirt and pulled his feet beneath him and rose to stand. "Come on, Sean. Let's move our conversational bones to a more horizontal position." Viggo held out his hand and waited.
"A gentleman are you?" Sean teased clasping Viggo's hand tightly in his own and rising to his feet. The blanket fell off of him onto the couch, and he turned about to retrieve it but realized that Viggo was tugging on his hand.
Their eyes met and Viggo squeezed Sean's hand harder. "Leave it. You'll only want it later."
"And there's something I'll be wanting now." Sean leaned toward Viggo his lips just millimeters from them when Viggo tensed and Sean stopped his ascent. "But I can wait." He whispered over Viggo's parting lips and withdrew.
Viggo held fast to Sean's hand and it took him a moment to catch his breath. Sean waited, stroking the back of Viggo's hand with his thumb, patient and calm.
"You were-" Viggo paused and cleared his throat finding his voice once more. "You were right when you said that I was afraid. I didn't realize how much until, until just now and....I'm not saying I don't want to be kissed; to kiss you, but I think I need a little more time."
Sean meant no malice but he could not restrain himself from laughing. Viggo's expression was a wash of indignant pain; so to make up for his gaff Sean pulled Viggo forward and hugged him. He patted the man's back and released the embrace sooner than he would have liked, but appropriate for the manly hug that it was. "I'm sorry, Viggo mate. Yes, your time table; absolutely."
"What's so funny?" Viggo asked saddened that both of his hands were now free.
Sean shook his head. "I'm a bit tired, it were nothing just.... If I had endured eight years of not even a pat on the back and then stumbled upon you, I would have barely asked for your name before resigning myself to tear off your clothes and shag you unconscious. But you; your reaction, I just, I think it's-" Sean looked for a word that could aptly describe his judgment without sounding like one of his many ex-girlfriends.
"If you say 'cute' I'll deck you." Viggo stated his expression honed as if he meat it.
Sean shook his head. So much for Mr. Preaches Non Violence. "Sweet?"
Viggo considered the word, tilting his head from one side to the next then finally made up his mind. "Okay. That I'll accept." He nodded in the direction of his bedroom. "We still going to lie down together? Or are you afraid of going into sugar shock?" Viggo rolled his eyes at Sean's reaction. "It's not funny Sean."
"Tired." Sean reminded to excuse himself while quieting his laughter. "Right, bed. That would be grand." He followed Viggo out of the living room area once Viggo had put the fire to rights.
Viggo left the door open and moved to the far side of the room and his dresser. "Do you, uhm, need something to wear for bed?"
"Like long underwear perhaps?" Sean winked at Viggo. "Yeah, something with a little more mobility then me jeans would be nice."
Viggo nodded and turned his back to Sean and opened a drawer. Sean sat on the bed and pulled off his hiking boots watching Viggo's every move. He could tell the man was for the most part relaxed, but any tension could be explained by his own anticipation of getting under the covers and feeling out his bed partner for the first time. "I'll have to buy some more clothes when we get to the village. I don't think the two pairs of jeans and two shirts I have are going to suffice for the next fourteen days."
Viggo walked over to him and held out a pair of sweat pants and a tee shirt for the taking. "Well, you're welcome to share any of my things. But if you need something specific then, there's a shop that has everything you'll need." Viggo studied Sean's face as the other man took the clothes from him.
"We'll have to see what morning brings then." Sean winked at Viggo and pulled his cotton shirt off over his head. He knew Viggo hadn't moved and was watching him. He could feel the weight of his gaze and knew that once he stood to remove his jeans he would bump right into Viggo. The thought wasn't unpleasant and he decided to disrobe completely before putting on his nightclothes.
"This the only one you have?" Viggo asked touching the tattoo adorning Sean's right bicep. His fingers were warm but he knew they were like ice compared to the heat of Sean's flesh. He would have preferred to kiss the tattoo; lick it instead; but he had made his instinctive choice and stuck with it.
Sean glanced down at the name of his football club even though he knew every inch of ink that marked him. He smirked and then slanted his gaze to Viggo's. "I have one more. You'll be seeing it soon enough." He lied, and chose that moment to stand. Just as he suspected Viggo didn't budge. Viggo didn't even blink or breathe and Sean smiled at him, a gesture of both reassurance and desire. Slowly Sean unzipped his jeans and pushed the denim off of his hips, his eyes never leaving Viggo's. "Don't think y'can spot it superficially though. You might have to actually look for it...."
Viggo's gaze remained deadlocked with Sean's. He could feel the scratch of denim on the back of his hands as the fabric dropped to Sean's knees. A movement here, tug there and Sean's bare skin brushed is hands now and Viggo closed his eyes, swayed on his feet and remembered how to breathe when Sean finally; mercifully; took a step back from him.
-- Oh, my fucking....GOD.--
Viggo heard Sean shake out the replacement clothes and gave him a few seconds to put them on before opening his eyes. He wasn't surprised to see that Sean chose to put the tee shirt on first and was still very naked from the waist down. Viggo's gaze dropped to the flaccid cock immediately and he opened his mouth to say something but shut it before any sound emerged. His right hand shot out of it's own will and Viggo's fingers connected with Sean's thigh, barely brushing across the midsection of the exposed cock before he retracted his hand once more.
"S-sorry." Viggo murmured before beating an awkward retreat to the opposite side of the bed and began shedding his own clothes.
He waited for the musical sound of Sean's laughter to follow him but it didn't. Sean merely looked at him in consideration before continuing to dress. Viggo's hands shook a little as he changed into his thermal pants and matching long sleeve top, but stopped when he climbed beneath the covers a few breaths later. He reached up and turned off the bedside lamp by way of a wall switch and the room was plunged into darkness. His muscles stiffened as he was ever aware of the body on the mattress next to him.
Sean sighed contentedly and rolled over onto his left side to face Viggo. He snaked his left arm against the pillows and underneath Viggo's neck and shoulders. "Come here, mate. Don't be shy." He maneuvered his body closer to Viggo's under the covers until he was pressed up against him, his right arm laying across Viggo's lower abdomen, head on the man's pillow and shoulder both. "A little cuddle is always good, yeah?"
Viggo swallowed electrified by the touch assaulting his every sense and turning his brain to mush. "Y-yes." He whispered arching a little, trying to move closer and he closed his eyes. "Always good...." Viggo took a deep breath and felt something in him surrender. He rolled over onto his right side and embraced Sean with the opposite arm, his right trapped between them as he pressed his face underneath Sean's to burrow between his warmth and the stark cold of the pillow.
"God, yessss." Viggo hissed loosing himself in Sean's scent, his touch, the feel of his breath at his left ear. He wanted to be held, kissed, consumed whole by the Englishman and could find no shame in the needing of it. Sean was here, more than willing to ply him with acceptance and Viggo's muscles relaxed while his breathing increased triple fold.
"Hey, shhhh." Sean whispered embracing Viggo fully and pulling the man flush against him. "Steady on, not so fast. Breathe with me. Listen....See? In and out...That's better....Just like that Viggo. I'm not going to let you go. Shhh..."
Viggo squinted his eyes tightly closed and clung to Sean and obeyed the calm persistent instructions he gave him. -- Yes. Just breathe.... Just like him. With him...Nothing to do but breathe. Be held, hold and breathe....-- Relaxing in Sean's arms was how Viggo drifted off to sleep.
-- "Daddy, stop!"
Viggo laughed and moved to kiss Henry's left cheek in a constant stream of noise that had the child giggling as much as pushing his hands against his father's chest.
"No!" Henry informed sharply through a gale of laughter as he turned his other cheek to his father to have the process repeated. "You kiss me too much!" He squealed and dug his heels into the floor, then dropped his butt toward the ground in defiance.
"Oh, do I?" Viggo asked maintaining his steady hold on the three year old. "You don't mind when Mommy kisses you."
Henry shrieked and then laughed as Viggo blew air on his cheeks, making flatulent sounds instead of just kissing him.
"Mommy's quiet!"
"She is?" Viggo seemed surprised by the news and leaned forward as Henry sat on the floor to pull away. "Then maybe she's not kissing you right." He kissed Henry several times then blew on the child's neck causing him into a shriek and dissolve into a fit of giggles.
"Daddy!" He pushed his feet against Viggo's stomach. "Daddy, you're silly!"
Viggo dropped to the floor, straddled his son, lifted up the shirt he wore a little and blew loudly on Henry's stomach. The child kicked and thrashed, howling with laughter and Viggo blew once more. He paused when he heard an answering fart and raised his head and blinked at his red- faced son. Henry giggled coyly and squirmed once more.
"Oh, I'M the 'silly' one am I?" He tickled his son who laughed and squirmed beneath him. -
The memory, the dream, the security of feeling swarmed within Viggo's senses as he opened his eyes in the dark bedroom of his cabin and called softly out to his son. The movement on the mattress beside him tore Viggo from his past and planted him firmly once more in the present. Sean; the body pressed up against him like an independent thermal source of heat was Sean. Henry was dead.
Viggo closed his eyes at the harsh reality and swallowed before rolling away from his bed guest. Sean was snoring softly and his limbs were pliant enough for Viggo to easily escape. His back to the man Viggo opened his eyes and stared at the cabin wall. There were twelve knotholes in the wood grain in his immediate line of sight. There were three more behind the dresser. Viggo had pulled the furniture away from the wall to check one sleepless night to investigate, but the twelve holes were in some ways a comforting sight, in others a self-imposed numerical hell.
Henry.
Viggo smelled the palm of his hand hoping that some phantom scent lingered there, but the only thing he could smell was the soap he used intermixed with his own distinguishable scent. No Henry, just himself as it had been for the past ten years. The sobs caught him off guard and Viggo struggled to silence them, his hands covered his face and he tried to swallow down the noise. Why did the sweetest of memories always disintegrate him into a wash of unbridled sorrow?
"Henry…"
The sharp intake of air had startled Sean from sleep and it took him a few seconds to realize that he was awake and that Viggo was crying. Henry? Is that what Viggo had said? The child; the dead child-oh yes, Sean remembered now. He rolled over onto his side and placed a hand upon Viggo's shoulder. Sean was never certain what to do when there was a hysterical person in front him; children were easy to help; adults were complicated. Some wanted to be touched, other's rankled at such treatment, while still others wanted to be comforted but insisted on fighting him off at every step of the way. Gripping Viggo's shoulder gently Sean waited for the conflicting messages and chaos to come.
Viggo flinched a little at the contact, but then cried harder. Sean embraced him from behind, stroked his hair with one hand and rested his head upon Viggo's shoulder. Viggo lowered his hands from his face after a couple of seconds and clutched at the arm around him.
"I'm, I'm sorry." He apologized sounding as if he were about to hyperventilate. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"S'all right, mate." Sean assured him raising his head to rub his cheek against Viggo's ear. "Was it a nightmare about the crash?"
"No." Viggo pouted wiping his tears with a hand. "It was good. I just, I just was dreaming about him as all. He was three. God, he was so fucking beautiful it hurt to look at him; knowing that I had anything to do with him; I felt so unworthy."
Sean tightened his embrace.
"I-I loved him so much."
"I know y'did." Sean agreed more than soothed. To tell someone grieving not to cry, feel, or to just 'get over it' was not only cruel, but also wrong. "He was your baby. How could you not love him?"
"I miss him so much. I would give anything I had just for a few seconds to hold him; to tell him…" Viggo dissolved into tears once more and Sean pulled him away from the edge of the bed, encouraging him to roll over into his arms.
"C'mere, Viggo. I've got you. There's a good man."
Sean didn't have children so he had little to no existing point of comparison. But he had endured loss; he had grieved; and he was not immune to the pain set before him in his arms. Viggo was devastated, vulnerable, and needing of any compassion he could be spared. Sean held him tightly and waited for the throws of the grief to subside. There were no words he could say that would mean anything to a father that had lost his child, and therefore he remained silent.
Viggo wiped his tears on his hands and the t-shirt Sean wore as he slowly came down from the arch of his sorrow. He took deep breaths and realized he was exhausted. He closed his eyes thankful for the sturdy body against and around his own. For the moment he was not completely alone and it soothed him like nothing had in so long.
"I'm sorry. I know you didn't expect me to go off like that."
"No need to apologize or be embarrassed, Viggo. It's fine. I mean, there's nothing for you to be sorry for."
Viggo rubbed his cheek against Sean's breastplate and burrowed his face against the front of the other man's throat. "Thank you. For not judging, for not being uncomfortable, for allowing me to just fall apart… For everything, Sean. I appreciate it. More than you'll ever know."
Sean smiled and resettled his arms around Viggo. "I think I can imagine. And there's no reason to thank me. I'm here, I'm you're friend, it's what mates do right?"
"Yes." Agreed Viggo softly as he hugged Sean tightly. "It is."
They remained in silence for several more moments and tentatively Viggo extracted himself from Sean's embrace slightly.
"I think I'll live."
"Good, because I'm not sharing the bed with you if you're not."
Viggo laughed a little at Sean's statement and nodded before meeting his stare. "I feel like shit, but I'm alive." He felt his stomach flutter as Sean stroked his cheek and wiped away renegade trails of tears with his thumb. "I think I can go back to sleep now."
"You sure?" Sean asked arching an eyebrow skeptically. "I can make you some tea, get you some aspirins; just tell me what you need."
"You to hold me. And sleep." Viggo added almost as an afterthought. "I think I'm done dreaming for the night."
Sean placed a kiss upon Viggo's forehead and shifted on the mattress giving Viggo more room to lay down beside him. "If you say so."
Viggo settled down next to Sean and rested his head upon the other man's chest, the steady heartbeat relaxing every muscle in his body like a healing salve.
"Yeah, I say so."
~~~
On to Chapter 2
Author: Dea (deawrites@aol.com)
Archive: Not unless you ask first. I'm easy, but I like common courtesy.
Rating: R to NC17 and beyond.
Pairing: Sean Bean & Viggo Mortensen
Guests: character of Wayne and mention of "Perry Elly" from "Essex Boys"
Warnings: Homoerotic material ahead. Unbeated for I wish to be held solely accountable.
Summary: Once upon a time there was a man who lived as a recluse in the mountains and one day an Englishman stumbled into his life.
Disclaimers: The real/fictional characters that do not belong to me are only versions of the same from my mind. No slander or profit intended.
Dedication: Cokie who keeps telling me I'm wasting my time when I do anything but write.
THE MOUNTAIN BOWS
He liked the quiet, the serenity of the mountains. Being alone was something Viggo was accomplished at. He had become quite adept at being an introverted person that just passed under the radar of the populace. He smiled but said little, skirted the shadows and stayed out of the way. Viggo had a family yes; people who loved him in addition to an ex-wife he never spoke to and a son--- Viggo closed his eyes. No, he wouldn't think about his son, Henry. The pain seared him to the bone, scarred his surface and left him a hermit. Before Henry's death Viggo had not been a wall flower but near enough to the center of life and now? He was content to spend his days in his mountain cabin and live quietly, peacefully until his time to die arrived.
Watching the sunrise Viggo zipped up his down coat and walked off of the porch in direction of the stream he visited each morning and evening. He liked to watch some of the deer come and drink, to check the progress of the growth of their young and commune with nature until the sun reached a little higher in the sky, or sank into the depths of the mountain ranges beyond. It was his habit and he walked the worn pathway hidden by foliage that only he or other animals disturbed. His thoughts were of his body, of the weather, of the sounds of the forest, of nothing in particular and Viggo preferred that route to the stress of city life, of metropolitan mindsets and global fan fair.
This was peace and he was fortunate enough to be living in it.
~~~
"Bugger!"
Sean lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke through his nostrils, a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips as his cohort Wayne struck the front fender of their appropriated jeep and slammed the open hood closed.
"Pointless is it?"
Wayne glared at Sean. "Fuck all it is! Now we're stuck in shite falls no where and we've a schedule to keep-"
"But we're sitting pretty enough." Sean mused hooking a thumb in indication of the two athletic bags full of unmarked and laundered currency on the passenger side floor of the jeep.
Wayne's hands went to his hips. "What're y'saying Bean? That we should take the money and run?"
Sean took another drag of his cigarette. "Perhaps I'm saying we should take what we acquired through our own efforts, split the matter even, and saunter off to parts where the women are dark skinned and living is cheap."
Wayne looked back over his shoulder at the jeep, and then scanned the incline of the two-lane road up the mountain face before settling his stare upon Sean once more. A wicked grin opened his mouth to show all of his teeth. "I had you pegged as a fucking boy scout. Thought y'd take the money t'Perry soon as take it f'yourself."
Sean shrugged and dropped the cigarette to the gravel shoulder and crushed out what was left of it beneath his boot heel. He wet his lips and looked at Wayne. "You want t'work for 'Perry Elly your whole life? Or never work again?"
The decision was a short one and Wayne walked over to the jeep and reached for the passenger side door. "I say, why didn't we think of this sooner?"
"Don't know." Sean informed him shaking his head and reaching into his weathered highland jacket to retrieve his cigarettes.
"Well, you're a fucking surprise, Bean." Wayne praised opening the door and reaching down for the sawed off shotgun between the seat and the door.
"You're not." Sean said his smile inverted, eyes cold and features fixed, the nine-millimeter gun in his hand instead of the cigarettes. Wayne turned his face to him just as Sean pulled the trigger, the bullet entering Wayne's skull between the eyes, and exiting out the back of his head. Sean watched the body fall backward onto the gravel road and slowly checked his clip, put on the safety and tucked his gun back in his jacket once more.
Sean shook his head and walked over to Wayne's corpse and knelt beside it. He reached inside his jacket once more and with drew a piece of wire and showed it to Wayne's glazed over eyes. "Don't know shite one about cars do you mate?"
Sean rose to his feet and reached inside the jeep cab to pop the hood once more. He raised it and put the engine to rights and spent the next half hour wrapping Wayne's body in the black tarps he had purchased for this very purpose and loaded the corpse into the jeep. He cleaned away the evidence he could by the roadside with water and by shifting the dirt and gravel around to conceal any bone fragments or gray matter left behind. Ants or birds would feast upon those and Sean drove the jeep up the mountain face until the pavement became dirt and he found a road to turn off of. He buried Wayne, wiped down the jeep of his prints, and finally rid himself of the jeep and shovel off a steep incline into a thick tree covered valley and it's lake far below. The money he shoved into his nap sack with his own meager belongings and hoisted it onto his shoulders. He began the slow walk back to the main road.
It would be nightfall soon enough and he had to vanish from the scene of the crime. Perry was right; Wayne was a loose cannon and couldn't be trusted. Sean smiled to himself and pulled a cigarette out of his jacket and paused in his stride to light it. Once finished he continued walking, a slick smile pasted upon his lips.
He was a few million dollars richer and Perry Elly was in the market for another henchman.
~~~
An hour later Sean frowned. Where the bloody blazes was the main road? He was heading up hill, that much he was certain but had he gotten turned around? He hadn't driven that far off the main highway such as it was and yet he strongly felt he should have been back to it by now. He was beginning to worry and the sun was climbing higher overhead making the going tougher. He was getting a bit hot, perspiration dotting his brow and he could feel it seep from his armpits. He had walked into another cluster of gnats and the little black bugs were more annoying than Wayne's constant chattering when he was high, and Sean didn't think ANYTHING could irritate him more than that. He waved sharply at the damned bugs, wishing he could shoot a few of them to teach the remainder to leave him be, but that was not a wise choice.
And where the bloody, buggering, bullocks was the fucking road??? Another two hours in and Sean knew he was lost and he was quite upset about it. The sun was going to be setting soon and he was tired, hungry and quite beyond thirst. People could die from exposure in the mountains regardless of having some survival training as he did. Furious and determined to live Sean paused and listened. Water. He heard it in the distance and he closed his eyes and focused in on the sound to locate its origin. Sean opened his eyes and adjusted his course and prayed he would have far more luck locating the stream than he had the main road.
The rushing, bubbling water was a sight for sore eyes and Sean pulled off his backpack and lowered it to a large rock at the bank side before dropping to his knees. The water was ice cold and numbed Sean's fingers as he cupped his hands to drink, then splash water over the back of his neck and face. No water had ever tasted so good to him and he hoped nothing in it was toxic. He drank more wishing he had a canteen to fill; it didn't matter. He would most likely spend the night near the water's edge just for the sake of it. Perhaps he could snare a rabbit or something to eat. Sean looked around and listened, he felt like he was being watched and not by some animal or imaginary predator either.
At sunset Viggo returned to the river and washed his hands of anything he had touched during the day that conventional washing could not rid him of. It was a ritual and he enjoyed watching the tattooed "H" on his left wrist distorted by the stream. It gave him a sense of symmetry that nothing else had. Sighing softly Viggo kept his hand submerged to the forearm until his fingers were numb. Slowly raising his hand and drying it on a corner of his flannel shirt he looked up and immediately noticed that he was not alone. Down the bank there was a man tearing off a backpack and throwing himself to the ground to drink. Cautious and curious at the same time, Viggo withdrew into the trees, inching closer to see if he could catch a glimpse of the stranger's face.
While he realized being a hermit had its advantages, this was not someone Viggo recognized from the local town. And a man alone in the woods could be a lethal combination if said person wasn't prepared for it as Viggo was, and even then there were questionable moments. Viggo elected to error on the side of compassion and slowly stepped out towards the man, who rose to his feet quickly and whirled around to face him. His stern expression almost looked guilty of some grave injustice and Viggo could openly sense his fear.
"Are you lost?"
"Lost enough." Sean rubbed his head, flinching like it was tender. "Got a nasty bump. Not sure where 'here' is. Looking for a main road. Wouldn't happen to know the way?"
He could have been camping with others, fallen, was being searched for. Perhaps on a hike, there was a variable of uncertainty in the man's way and Viggo sensed it was genuine: at the very least his vulnerability seemed as such. Viggo pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
"It's going to be dark in about five minutes. You can't make it to the main road by then. Are you with anyone?" Sean shook his head, looking like he was a cat who had fallen into the river and nearly drown. "To be safe, you should stay the night with me. We can get you back down the mountain in the morning."
Sean's forehead wrinkled. "Stay with you?"
Viggo nodded. "I have a cabin just up the trail." Viggo hooked a thumb over his shoulder in indication. "My name is Viggo."
Sean looked from the river, to his backpack and finally at the man who stood a few feet away from him. His options were limited and obviously Viggo knew this. "M'Sean. I take it you 'have room for two in your cabin?"
Viggo nodded. "Grab your gear and come on." Viggo turned slowly and found the trail, pausing only to see if Sean was following him. The Englishman hoisted his nap sack onto his back and the two men made their way up the trail. Neither said anything, there was no need on Sean's part and Viggo was thankful for the man's silence. In a matter of minutes they were at Viggo's front porch and he opened the screen and then hard door for his lost companion.
Sean said nothing as he stepped inside. The cabin was lavishly built on the inside, though simplistic. It had an incredibly welcoming feel and Sean was impressed by the minimalist decor. He nodded in approval and Viggo lead him further inside. "Here's the bathroom." He stated pointing. "You can wash, change your clothes; do you have something to change into?" Sean assured him that he had another outfit and Viggo nodded and took off his coat and motioned to Sean for his.
"You can stow your pack in the mud room by the back door." Viggo pointed in the direction of the kitchen and a small anti-room adjacent it. "There's room on the floor or a shelf on the wall. Whichever you're more comfortable with. Don't worry; I'm not the curious type with things. I have all I need; more than actually." Viggo quickly disappeared into said room and hung up their coats and left his hiking boots in there, pulling on a pair of moccasin slippers lined with sheepskin over his socks.
When Viggo returned a few seconds later he motioned to the living area. "You'll have to sleep on the couch. It's more than comfortable; I've slept on it before; and I'll have a fire going." There was a fire smoldering just then and Viggo moved to add more wood to it.
"I'd like a wash." Sean announced moving toward the bathroom door. "Won't be but a tick. And if I may, can I trouble you for a snack? I'm on the other side of peckish."
Viggo placed the poker back in its holder and dusted off his hands upon the legs of his jeans. "Sure. That can be arranged." Viggo nodded and moved into the small kitchen area as Sean issued his gratitude and closed the bathroom door behind him.
Viggo fixed them beef sandwiches and a mug each of tomato soup while Sean bathed. While it felt strange fixing a meal for someone other than himself Viggo was comforted by the fact that it would be just one night, two meals at the most and then his cabin would be devoid of company once more. Strangely enough, Viggo realized that thus far Sean seemed like quite the respectable guest. Their silence had been comfortable as they walked to the cabin and Viggo had almost felt like they fit together in some odd, indescribable way.
Sean allowed the hot water to cascade over his body and wash away the grime of his hike through the nether regions of civilization, as well as the evidence of the murder. While he didn't enjoy killing people, he hardly blinked an eye at it any longer. And why should he? He was hired to do what other people could not, or would not do themselves and he was paid handsomely for it. Perry Elly had hired him numerous times; on this occasion it was to ferret out Wayne's greed and slovenly attitude towards business. The money they had 'acquired' was to become Sean's pay. Not that Perry knew that, not exactly. Sean had hinted at it during their communications but for the moment he was acting as 'finders keepers' and if Elly wanted any of this money he would have to find Sean.
And that was going to prove impossible since Sean had something to say about it this time. Last big score, he was getting out. His funds were safe in off shore accounts and he had the nice cash bonus in hand. Sure he was stuck in the mountains for the night but the company didn't seem unpleasant. In fact, the quiet man with the sad blue eyes seemed willing to let Sean be and that was just fine by him. Questions lead to confessions and Sean wasn't prepared to tattle on himself. It was best he kept to the 'I've a bump on m'head' story and leave it at that. Let Viggo fill in the dots where he wished to and come up with a story more infinitely interesting than Sean's lie.
He dried himself with the available towels and shoved his dirty clothes into his knapsack, and checked his reflection in the mist steamed mirror and exited the bathroom. His stomach rumbled at the scent of soup and he smiled at Viggo as he entered the 'mud room' and placed the back pack on the next to naked pine shelf, noting their coats hanging on pegs beneath it. Sean pulled his shirt down in the back and reentered the kitchen to join Viggo at a small nook like table and booth seat. He sat opposite his host, issued quick thanks for the grub and settled down to eat.
Viggo hadn't bothered bringing them spoons for their soup, preferring instead to sip it from the mug. He watched Sean nearly inhale the beef, tomato, and lettuce sandwich nearly whole before he relaxed a bit and began upon the soup. Viggo tentatively pushed his sandwich plate in Sean's direction and caught the man's gaze over the rim of his mug.
"Are you suggesting that you aren't able to eat that?" Sean motioned to the plate. Viggo nodded. "Right, suit yourself then." Sean picked up the plate, set it upon his own and took a large bite out of the sandwich.
Viggo's lips curled into a smile and he sipped at his soup content to watch the carnage befalling the sandwich. The man was hungry and Viggo was all too willing to share. After eating more than three quarters of the sandwich Sean slowed in his mauling of the food and ate the rest like a civilized man. By the time he was drinking his soup the liquid had cooled enough for him to take gulps if he wished without burning his mouth. Viggo had long since finished his soup and was content to watch his guest.
"I should be able to take you down around seven thirty-eight o'clock tomorrow morning. Is that all right?"
Sean nodded and swallowed his mouthful of soup. "S'fine. Cheers; thank you. I hate to be a bother like this. You know I could walk-"
"There's no need. It would take you too long and I don't want to risk you spending the night in the wilderness. It's too dangerous."
Sean frowned. "Too many buggering gnats as well." Viggo cocked his head to one side, obviously uncertain of what Sean was referring too. "Those little black bugs wait for you to walk into their nest and you can't shake them for ages. I hate the bloody things."
Viggo laughed, the sound genuine and deep. "It's part of nature's allure. I've run into my fair share of gnat maelstroms. How long were you lost?"
Sean shrugged. "Seemed like bloody ages. I'll never go hiking again that's for certain; it's too bloody dangerous. And the bugs...."
"Better them than the bear or puma that frequent these parts. If you were out at night you would have probably run into a wolf or two."
Sean set his soup mug down; it was empty. "You've seen them?"
"Once in a while. Mostly I hear them calling to one another at night." Viggo rose and took Sean's dishes and placed them in the sink. The coffee he had put on to brew was ready and he pored them a couple of fresh mugs. "Do you take cream or sugar?" Sean shook his head. "Man after my own heart."
Sean thanked him for the coffee and felt what little tension in his muscles he still harbored completely dissipate. Viggo had a calming effect on him; and he made a delectable sandwich. Sean blew upon his coffee before taking a silent sip. "MMMm. S'good."
"Thank you." Viggo covered his smile of pride with his own mug. "I ground it myself. I have this antique grinder and-" Viggo paused. "It's not a really interesting sorry. I'm sorry. I don't have company often, well, EVER so I'm not the best story teller."
"You're doing fine." Sean praised. "Besides, I owe you for the shelter and food. Plus having a wash was just the thing."
"If we can't help one another there's no point to us existing." Viggo mused recalling how excited Henry got whenever they helped a person in need. He shook his head pushing the thought away. "It's something my son taught me."
"Yeah? Where's he?"
Sean immediately regretted asking the question as Viggo's expression fell and the atmosphere of the room became weighted. Viggo cleared his throat. "There's a grave marker out back where I placed his ashes. Henry would have been seventeen this winter. But he died when he was seven. Car." Viggo lowered his head and stared into the depths of his coffee; there was nothing more to say past how the machines in hospital had kept Henry alive longer than they should have, so Viggo left it at that.
"Henry's a good English name."
Viggo raised his stare to Sean's and felt himself smiling through the prickle of his tears. The man understood how to acknowledge Viggo's pain without insisting he reside in it with him. "It's a great American name too."
Sean waved off the brag. "You're just a bunch of colonist yanks. Deserters."
Viggo laughed and abruptly forgot that a second before he felt like crying. Yes, there was something odd yet indescribably charming about this man. Sean made him feel something other than grief, or solitude. "You English taxed us beyond reason. You were greedy so we fired you."
Sean glared at Viggo in mock offense. "Ingrate. Without us y'd have had nothing."
"Without you the indigenous peoples of North America would still be the majority of the populace here today."
Sean sneered. "And the Spanish and French would have left them be? I doubt it." Viggo arched an eyebrow obviously unimpressed. "Wanker."
"Reduced to name calling already? I thought you Europeans were more refined then that."
Sean laughed and gave Viggo the two-finger salute and took a sip of his coffee. "I like you Viggo mate. You're not half bad for a yank."
"I like you too Sean." Viggo felt something in the pit of his stomach he had not experienced for what seemed like a lifetime. It was a little flutter; the tiniest of twinges and then Viggo felt the blush rising to his cheeks.
Sean watched the change in Viggo's gaze and manner as he took a lengthy sip of his coffee. There was desire rumbling in Viggo's blue eyes and it was slowly building. Perhaps Sean wouldn't be sleeping on the couch after all; perhaps his host would invite him to his bed. With a little prompting upon Sean's part he figured he could see what was underneath the layers of clothes the grieving man wore.
"What does one do on dark nights here?"
Viggo shrugged and managed to look up from his coffee. "In the summer star gaze, in the winter, read by the fire. I'm not a very exciting person."
"Exciting enough." Sean liked the startled expression that Viggo flashed him. "What with your penchant for rescuing the wandering in need."
"I know a few of the Rangers that work at the state park. They've trained me a little, besides I couldn't let you die from exposure. It's a very painful death."
"Not interested in dying, me." Contradicting his statement Sean reached into his shirt front pocket and withdrew his dwindling pack of cigarettes. "Mind if I have a fag?"
Viggo wet his lips and stared at Sean for several seconds before slowly rising to stand. He hunted through the cabinets and managed to find a crystal ashtray. He closed his eyes and blew into the center to free it from dust, then surrendered to using the corner of his flannel shirt to wipe away the particles before placing the object down on the table.
Sean thanked him and lit his cigarette and smoked for a few seconds in silence watching Viggo. The man's eyes didn't leave Sean's hand holding the cigarette, fixated on the movement from mouth and away, to mouth once more. Sean exhaled the smoke through his nostrils and cleared his throat. This prompted Viggo to lock gazes with him immediately and a slow smile crept across Sean's features.
"It's a frightful habit."
Viggo swallowed his throat feeling abruptly dry. "I, I don't-"
"But you did."
Viggo blushed and picked up his coffee mug. "I quit when Henry was born."
"Then you shouldn't start up again now."
Viggo tilted his gaze out of the kitchen window at the darkened sky outside. Night fell quickly in the mountains, something about being closer to heaven he was certain, or something nearly as poetic. His expression filling with sorrow he looked back at Sean once more. "It's a habit I should forget. If I don't, I'll have to spend more in town when I go down the mountain for supplies. Or I'll find myself going more often if I start chain smoking." Sometimes Viggo felt he acted in nothing but extremes.
"So were you a chain smoker before?"
Viggo's blush returned. "No."
"Then you should be able to resist." Sean wet his lips with a quick swipe of his tongue before bringing the cigarette to his mouth once more. "Steady on..." Sean exhaled the smoke. "There's a good man."
The fingers of Viggo's left hand stroked the grain pattern of the table surface and he inched forward in his seat, his gaze fixating upon Sean's cigarette. He wet his lips. Desire honed his features, pursing his lips with longing, his body nearly subconsciously smoking the fag WITH Sean.
"No."
Viggo studied Sean's expression. For the Englishman the matter was that simple, don't act, leave it alone, and stop: there was no gray area to be tripped up by. Viggo chewed on his bottom lip for a moment and ran a hand back through his hair before slowly reaching out to his guest.
"May I?"
Sean sighed disapprovingly and fished in his shirt for the packet once more. He took the entire thing out and placed it in Viggo's hand then reached for his silver Zippo lighter. Viggo leaned across the table, cigarette in hand and the pack on the table top between them. Sean touched the flame to the cigarette tip, the act sensual as he watched Viggo inhale smoke for the first time in years. Viggo sat back in his chair and puffed happily for a few minutes in silence enjoying his coup de grais and closing his eyes.
"Is it worth all the fuss it's going to cause you?"
"Yeah." Viggo breathed out twin streams of smoke from his nostrils. He opened his eyes and locked gazes with Sean who was very softly laughing at him, but once their eyes held Viggo realized that there was more to Sean's smirk than just amusement. "By tomorrow morning I'll most likely curse your name for tempting me."
Sean's eyebrows furrowed. "Don't blame me, mate. You wanted it before I even asked. One addict to another, don't try o 'pull the wool over my eyes." He winked at Viggo and took a drag on his own cigarette. "What are we reading tonight?"
"Not a damn thing." Mused Viggo lazily as he brought a knee up to his chest and rested his elbow upon his knee. He flicked some ash from his cigarette into the ashtray and looked at the burning paper before raising his stare to Sean's, inspiration abruptly seizing him. "Unless you feel like reading to me."
Sean contemplated the offer and asked, "Got any Yeats? Shakespeare?"
"No."
"Pity." Sean took another drag upon his cigarette and flicked some ash into the ashtray as well. "We'll have to reduce ourselves to telling one another stories. I've heard 'actual' conversation is a dying art."
Viggo inhaled on the cigarette and contemplated the rumbling purr of Sean's voice. He decided that even if Sean read the ingredients off a can of soup or beans, he'd be lost in the sinful sound. "I'd like that."
Sean laughed, the rumble in his chest almost predatorily in nature. He eyed Viggo keenly. "Hosting the revival of conversation? I bet you would."
Viggo flicked ash and noticed that Sean's eyes were lightly brushing up the bare skin of his forearm, witnessing the graceful twist of his writ as he brought the cigarette to his lips. There was interest there and raw need that matched Viggo's in kind.
"Am I that transparent?"
Sean shook his head and crushed out the remainder of his cigarette. "You're lonely is all. Could be a blind man and see that."
The seductive mask fell from Viggo's features and he stared at Sean. "I, I-" The explanation ended there and Viggo looked down at the table surface. Minutes ticked by and neither man said anything and finally Viggo was forced to rest his cigarette in the ashtray, content to watch it burn down to the filter.
"Ten years ago," He stated distantly not daring to raise his gaze to Sean's. He knew the Englishman was listening to him. "My world shattered and I stopped living. My son was dead, and I just," Viggo shook his head searching for the appropriate wording. He pulled his lips into his mouth for a breath and then continued, "stopped." He looked away, his eyes closing and he rest his forehead against the heel of his hand.
"I blamed my wife for his death. I know I shouldn't have, but she was driving and she-" Viggo tore his face away from his hand and looked at Sean, his blue gaze misting with memories he never spoke of. "I walked way from her, she eventually served me with papers and I signed them. Didn't read them, I didn't care. I had nothing worth a damn anymore: Henry was dead."
Viggo shrugged. "I had this land so I pooled what money I could get my hands on and built this cabin. Did most of the work myself. It didn't matter that it took me about four years to complete. Time doesn't give pause for humanity so I stopped giving thought to it." Viggo swallowed and stroked his palm over the table surface. "I stopped believing everything. God's a joke we tell ourselves so we can stand living another day."
Viggo pressed his long fingers to his lips and Sean waited patiently for him to continue. Viggo shifted in the booth seat and looked for the entire world a little boy who was trying to pay attention in the adult world but had too much energy to maintain a stationary position for too long.
"It's been eight years since I've been hugged, let alone touched in anyway by another person. Isn't that...odd?"
Sean considered his words carefully. While the self-imposed isolation sounded a bit extreme and impractical, Viggo's mourning was a valid enough reason to want to withdraw from the world that had betrayed him. Father's weren't supposed to out live their sons and burry them: But often enough they did just that.
"No. Is that what you want from me? Is to be held? Platonically touched-"
"Yes, but more. Maybe, I-" Viggo ran a hand back through his hair pulling the strands hard. "It's complicated."
"It isn't." Sean reasoned gently. "You're afraid."
A smile slowly crept across Viggo's lips and he pointed at Sean grinning. "Yes."
Sean shrugged his left shoulder. "So we take it a step at a time." He reached for the cigarette packet and took out a fag. "As I see it, you're the host so we'll work on your time table."
Gratitude washed through Viggo and he caught his breath watching Sean use his lighter. "What if it takes more than tonight for me to be comfortable enough to, to touch you first?"
Sean smiled as he exhaled smoke. "I won't fuss about for a decade, but I will give you as long as a fortnight."
Viggo laughed softly and reached out for the cigarettes. "In that case...Tomorrow we'll go down the mountain and pick up some more food and cigarettes."
Sean held out the lighter, the flame dancing with Viggo's breath. "And a book're two."
Relaxed, Viggo sat back in the bench seat. "Deal."
~~~
The fire kept dying to almost embers before Viggo would move from his comfortable lounging position on the floor to place more wood on it, or stoke the flames a little with the poker . Sean was comfortable in the crook of the arm and back couch cushions, turned just slightly to face Viggo and quite content to cuddle himself in a blanket and stay that way. They had a few mugs of coffee, but those mostly went untouched as their conversations required their primary focus.
Sean talked about European football matters, gardening and politics, while Viggo regaled him with tales of his tribulations and victories building the cabin, survival training he had received from the Rangers, and observations he had made about nature. Together they discussed books they had loved, art, music, and general points constructing their characters. The night stretched out to the early hours of the morning and neither man seemed to notice the shift of the world outside of Viggo's cabin.
Viggo had his right leg extended, resting along the bottom of the couch, the other he bent, the knee pulled against his chest, his right elbow pressing into the couch, his hand supporting the weight of his head. He gazed at Sean, his blue eyes sparkling with admiration, gratitude, lust and weary caution. A slight smile played at the corners of his mouth and he blinked, elongating the action and then wet his lips with a deliberate swipe of his tongue before addressing Sean.
"How did you really end up with me...here?"
Sean ran a hand back through his blond hair, slitting his eyes as he studied Viggo for an instant. Did the man want the truth? Now, when they were getting on so well? Or was he merely questioning fate? There was a version of the truth that might satisfy all parties and Sean decided to use it.
"A mate and I were on our way t'the next county. There's an airport there. He had business elsewhere and I was along for company. We had a falling out and I, I end up at the roadside alone." Sean shrugged. "I should have stayed on the road and gone back down the mountain but, I got it in me head that I was an intrepid explorer and fancied a nature walk. I ended up falling on m'arse, bumping my head, and lost." He motioned to Viggo. "But by the grace of you, I'm safe, sated and quite content thank you."
Viggo considered Sean's explanation finding it believable to a point; a point he didn't feel like questioning just yet. He nodded and rubbed his forehead on the heel of his hand before addressing his guest once more. "So I'm not keeping you from anything; or anyone; by asking you to stay?"
"No, Viggo. I've nothing waiting for me that's pressing." Playfulness crinkled at the corners of Sean's green eyes and he smiled. "At least for a fortnight."
Viggo relaxed, lowering his arm and laying his head upon it. "Good. Because I am really, really enjoying myself. And for once, I want to be greedy and just take all I can get."
"Greed is an odd bit of human nature isn't it?" The tips of Viggo's fingers were stroking the outer seam of Sean's jeans. Though he could not feel their warmth through the thick material, the knowledge of what they were doing excited him. "In your particular case, I don't see it as your being selfish. But in other instances; say, a best mate betraying you and setting you roadside, because his vanity was to be guilded by business savvy; then that leaves allot to be desired."
Viggo pulled his lips into his mouth and watched Sean's features carefully, intrigued by the movement of his bold fingers. "I think I'm being selfish. Here you are, an individual that's entitled to his own choices, and I want to make up your mind for you. I want to do anything in my power to ensure that you won't leave."
Sean laughed and leaned forward, the blanket falling open as his torso rest over his lap, his face just inches from Viggo's. "You considering tying me up in your 'mud room' and keeping me hostage against my will?"
Viggo looked from Sean's mouth to his eyes, taking his time in answering. "Not being prone to violence, I would use other means. Say, anything SHORT of tying you up; feeding you by hand; regulating the expulsion of bodily fluids-" Viggo's smile intensified with lust. "and the like...."
Sean sneered in distaste at the impracticality of such captivity, and held Viggo's stare completely in his own. "I'll handle my own expulsions if that's all right by you mate."
"You already told me you want to stay. That means we don't have a conflict of interest, Sean."
Sean looked at Viggo's lips, his eyes and back again feeling the incredible heat of Viggo's stare. It was as if he were being touched by the man's hands and not his eyes. It was time to altar the present path of their seduction. "Are you really insisting that I sleep on this couch by myself?"
Viggo's head retreated some, surprise filling his tone. "You, you want to sleep in my room? With me?"
"Is it a big bed?"
"It's a queen."
"That's sufficient for the two of us I would think."
Viggo swallowed and the hand at the outside of Sean's thigh twitched, moving to pat Sean's chest instead, fingers clenching involuntarily in the cotton of the shirt Sean was wearing. "Do you care which side you sleep on?"
A sly smirk curled the corners of Sean's mouth. "Who says I'm sleeping on a 'side'?"
Viggo swallowed, the sound exiting like a groan of air. The implication of Sean's body resting either above or below his own brought him instantly to sensory overload. His body trembled slightly and he was half grateful, half cursing the fact that Sean chose this exact instant to sit back. Fingers still entangled in cotton, Viggo jerked forward and Sean chuckled, closing his hand over Viggo's and reaching out with his unoccupied hand to stroke the side of Viggo's face.
"I promise, I'm not going anywhere, Viggo... Relax."
"O-okay." Viggo cleared his throat to steady his voice and loosened his grip on the cotton but didn't quite release it all together; not yet. "Are you,...tired?" It wasn't suave but Viggo wasn't up to the launch of a full-scale seduction: The truth would suffice.
"Bones are a little stiff. I could do with a lie down. However- I'm enjoying our discussion."
"Me too." They could agree and Viggo relaxed, He finally released his hold of Sean's shirt and pulled his feet beneath him and rose to stand. "Come on, Sean. Let's move our conversational bones to a more horizontal position." Viggo held out his hand and waited.
"A gentleman are you?" Sean teased clasping Viggo's hand tightly in his own and rising to his feet. The blanket fell off of him onto the couch, and he turned about to retrieve it but realized that Viggo was tugging on his hand.
Their eyes met and Viggo squeezed Sean's hand harder. "Leave it. You'll only want it later."
"And there's something I'll be wanting now." Sean leaned toward Viggo his lips just millimeters from them when Viggo tensed and Sean stopped his ascent. "But I can wait." He whispered over Viggo's parting lips and withdrew.
Viggo held fast to Sean's hand and it took him a moment to catch his breath. Sean waited, stroking the back of Viggo's hand with his thumb, patient and calm.
"You were-" Viggo paused and cleared his throat finding his voice once more. "You were right when you said that I was afraid. I didn't realize how much until, until just now and....I'm not saying I don't want to be kissed; to kiss you, but I think I need a little more time."
Sean meant no malice but he could not restrain himself from laughing. Viggo's expression was a wash of indignant pain; so to make up for his gaff Sean pulled Viggo forward and hugged him. He patted the man's back and released the embrace sooner than he would have liked, but appropriate for the manly hug that it was. "I'm sorry, Viggo mate. Yes, your time table; absolutely."
"What's so funny?" Viggo asked saddened that both of his hands were now free.
Sean shook his head. "I'm a bit tired, it were nothing just.... If I had endured eight years of not even a pat on the back and then stumbled upon you, I would have barely asked for your name before resigning myself to tear off your clothes and shag you unconscious. But you; your reaction, I just, I think it's-" Sean looked for a word that could aptly describe his judgment without sounding like one of his many ex-girlfriends.
"If you say 'cute' I'll deck you." Viggo stated his expression honed as if he meat it.
Sean shook his head. So much for Mr. Preaches Non Violence. "Sweet?"
Viggo considered the word, tilting his head from one side to the next then finally made up his mind. "Okay. That I'll accept." He nodded in the direction of his bedroom. "We still going to lie down together? Or are you afraid of going into sugar shock?" Viggo rolled his eyes at Sean's reaction. "It's not funny Sean."
"Tired." Sean reminded to excuse himself while quieting his laughter. "Right, bed. That would be grand." He followed Viggo out of the living room area once Viggo had put the fire to rights.
Viggo left the door open and moved to the far side of the room and his dresser. "Do you, uhm, need something to wear for bed?"
"Like long underwear perhaps?" Sean winked at Viggo. "Yeah, something with a little more mobility then me jeans would be nice."
Viggo nodded and turned his back to Sean and opened a drawer. Sean sat on the bed and pulled off his hiking boots watching Viggo's every move. He could tell the man was for the most part relaxed, but any tension could be explained by his own anticipation of getting under the covers and feeling out his bed partner for the first time. "I'll have to buy some more clothes when we get to the village. I don't think the two pairs of jeans and two shirts I have are going to suffice for the next fourteen days."
Viggo walked over to him and held out a pair of sweat pants and a tee shirt for the taking. "Well, you're welcome to share any of my things. But if you need something specific then, there's a shop that has everything you'll need." Viggo studied Sean's face as the other man took the clothes from him.
"We'll have to see what morning brings then." Sean winked at Viggo and pulled his cotton shirt off over his head. He knew Viggo hadn't moved and was watching him. He could feel the weight of his gaze and knew that once he stood to remove his jeans he would bump right into Viggo. The thought wasn't unpleasant and he decided to disrobe completely before putting on his nightclothes.
"This the only one you have?" Viggo asked touching the tattoo adorning Sean's right bicep. His fingers were warm but he knew they were like ice compared to the heat of Sean's flesh. He would have preferred to kiss the tattoo; lick it instead; but he had made his instinctive choice and stuck with it.
Sean glanced down at the name of his football club even though he knew every inch of ink that marked him. He smirked and then slanted his gaze to Viggo's. "I have one more. You'll be seeing it soon enough." He lied, and chose that moment to stand. Just as he suspected Viggo didn't budge. Viggo didn't even blink or breathe and Sean smiled at him, a gesture of both reassurance and desire. Slowly Sean unzipped his jeans and pushed the denim off of his hips, his eyes never leaving Viggo's. "Don't think y'can spot it superficially though. You might have to actually look for it...."
Viggo's gaze remained deadlocked with Sean's. He could feel the scratch of denim on the back of his hands as the fabric dropped to Sean's knees. A movement here, tug there and Sean's bare skin brushed is hands now and Viggo closed his eyes, swayed on his feet and remembered how to breathe when Sean finally; mercifully; took a step back from him.
-- Oh, my fucking....GOD.--
Viggo heard Sean shake out the replacement clothes and gave him a few seconds to put them on before opening his eyes. He wasn't surprised to see that Sean chose to put the tee shirt on first and was still very naked from the waist down. Viggo's gaze dropped to the flaccid cock immediately and he opened his mouth to say something but shut it before any sound emerged. His right hand shot out of it's own will and Viggo's fingers connected with Sean's thigh, barely brushing across the midsection of the exposed cock before he retracted his hand once more.
"S-sorry." Viggo murmured before beating an awkward retreat to the opposite side of the bed and began shedding his own clothes.
He waited for the musical sound of Sean's laughter to follow him but it didn't. Sean merely looked at him in consideration before continuing to dress. Viggo's hands shook a little as he changed into his thermal pants and matching long sleeve top, but stopped when he climbed beneath the covers a few breaths later. He reached up and turned off the bedside lamp by way of a wall switch and the room was plunged into darkness. His muscles stiffened as he was ever aware of the body on the mattress next to him.
Sean sighed contentedly and rolled over onto his left side to face Viggo. He snaked his left arm against the pillows and underneath Viggo's neck and shoulders. "Come here, mate. Don't be shy." He maneuvered his body closer to Viggo's under the covers until he was pressed up against him, his right arm laying across Viggo's lower abdomen, head on the man's pillow and shoulder both. "A little cuddle is always good, yeah?"
Viggo swallowed electrified by the touch assaulting his every sense and turning his brain to mush. "Y-yes." He whispered arching a little, trying to move closer and he closed his eyes. "Always good...." Viggo took a deep breath and felt something in him surrender. He rolled over onto his right side and embraced Sean with the opposite arm, his right trapped between them as he pressed his face underneath Sean's to burrow between his warmth and the stark cold of the pillow.
"God, yessss." Viggo hissed loosing himself in Sean's scent, his touch, the feel of his breath at his left ear. He wanted to be held, kissed, consumed whole by the Englishman and could find no shame in the needing of it. Sean was here, more than willing to ply him with acceptance and Viggo's muscles relaxed while his breathing increased triple fold.
"Hey, shhhh." Sean whispered embracing Viggo fully and pulling the man flush against him. "Steady on, not so fast. Breathe with me. Listen....See? In and out...That's better....Just like that Viggo. I'm not going to let you go. Shhh..."
Viggo squinted his eyes tightly closed and clung to Sean and obeyed the calm persistent instructions he gave him. -- Yes. Just breathe.... Just like him. With him...Nothing to do but breathe. Be held, hold and breathe....-- Relaxing in Sean's arms was how Viggo drifted off to sleep.
-- "Daddy, stop!"
Viggo laughed and moved to kiss Henry's left cheek in a constant stream of noise that had the child giggling as much as pushing his hands against his father's chest.
"No!" Henry informed sharply through a gale of laughter as he turned his other cheek to his father to have the process repeated. "You kiss me too much!" He squealed and dug his heels into the floor, then dropped his butt toward the ground in defiance.
"Oh, do I?" Viggo asked maintaining his steady hold on the three year old. "You don't mind when Mommy kisses you."
Henry shrieked and then laughed as Viggo blew air on his cheeks, making flatulent sounds instead of just kissing him.
"Mommy's quiet!"
"She is?" Viggo seemed surprised by the news and leaned forward as Henry sat on the floor to pull away. "Then maybe she's not kissing you right." He kissed Henry several times then blew on the child's neck causing him into a shriek and dissolve into a fit of giggles.
"Daddy!" He pushed his feet against Viggo's stomach. "Daddy, you're silly!"
Viggo dropped to the floor, straddled his son, lifted up the shirt he wore a little and blew loudly on Henry's stomach. The child kicked and thrashed, howling with laughter and Viggo blew once more. He paused when he heard an answering fart and raised his head and blinked at his red- faced son. Henry giggled coyly and squirmed once more.
"Oh, I'M the 'silly' one am I?" He tickled his son who laughed and squirmed beneath him. -
The memory, the dream, the security of feeling swarmed within Viggo's senses as he opened his eyes in the dark bedroom of his cabin and called softly out to his son. The movement on the mattress beside him tore Viggo from his past and planted him firmly once more in the present. Sean; the body pressed up against him like an independent thermal source of heat was Sean. Henry was dead.
Viggo closed his eyes at the harsh reality and swallowed before rolling away from his bed guest. Sean was snoring softly and his limbs were pliant enough for Viggo to easily escape. His back to the man Viggo opened his eyes and stared at the cabin wall. There were twelve knotholes in the wood grain in his immediate line of sight. There were three more behind the dresser. Viggo had pulled the furniture away from the wall to check one sleepless night to investigate, but the twelve holes were in some ways a comforting sight, in others a self-imposed numerical hell.
Henry.
Viggo smelled the palm of his hand hoping that some phantom scent lingered there, but the only thing he could smell was the soap he used intermixed with his own distinguishable scent. No Henry, just himself as it had been for the past ten years. The sobs caught him off guard and Viggo struggled to silence them, his hands covered his face and he tried to swallow down the noise. Why did the sweetest of memories always disintegrate him into a wash of unbridled sorrow?
"Henry…"
The sharp intake of air had startled Sean from sleep and it took him a few seconds to realize that he was awake and that Viggo was crying. Henry? Is that what Viggo had said? The child; the dead child-oh yes, Sean remembered now. He rolled over onto his side and placed a hand upon Viggo's shoulder. Sean was never certain what to do when there was a hysterical person in front him; children were easy to help; adults were complicated. Some wanted to be touched, other's rankled at such treatment, while still others wanted to be comforted but insisted on fighting him off at every step of the way. Gripping Viggo's shoulder gently Sean waited for the conflicting messages and chaos to come.
Viggo flinched a little at the contact, but then cried harder. Sean embraced him from behind, stroked his hair with one hand and rested his head upon Viggo's shoulder. Viggo lowered his hands from his face after a couple of seconds and clutched at the arm around him.
"I'm, I'm sorry." He apologized sounding as if he were about to hyperventilate. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"S'all right, mate." Sean assured him raising his head to rub his cheek against Viggo's ear. "Was it a nightmare about the crash?"
"No." Viggo pouted wiping his tears with a hand. "It was good. I just, I just was dreaming about him as all. He was three. God, he was so fucking beautiful it hurt to look at him; knowing that I had anything to do with him; I felt so unworthy."
Sean tightened his embrace.
"I-I loved him so much."
"I know y'did." Sean agreed more than soothed. To tell someone grieving not to cry, feel, or to just 'get over it' was not only cruel, but also wrong. "He was your baby. How could you not love him?"
"I miss him so much. I would give anything I had just for a few seconds to hold him; to tell him…" Viggo dissolved into tears once more and Sean pulled him away from the edge of the bed, encouraging him to roll over into his arms.
"C'mere, Viggo. I've got you. There's a good man."
Sean didn't have children so he had little to no existing point of comparison. But he had endured loss; he had grieved; and he was not immune to the pain set before him in his arms. Viggo was devastated, vulnerable, and needing of any compassion he could be spared. Sean held him tightly and waited for the throws of the grief to subside. There were no words he could say that would mean anything to a father that had lost his child, and therefore he remained silent.
Viggo wiped his tears on his hands and the t-shirt Sean wore as he slowly came down from the arch of his sorrow. He took deep breaths and realized he was exhausted. He closed his eyes thankful for the sturdy body against and around his own. For the moment he was not completely alone and it soothed him like nothing had in so long.
"I'm sorry. I know you didn't expect me to go off like that."
"No need to apologize or be embarrassed, Viggo. It's fine. I mean, there's nothing for you to be sorry for."
Viggo rubbed his cheek against Sean's breastplate and burrowed his face against the front of the other man's throat. "Thank you. For not judging, for not being uncomfortable, for allowing me to just fall apart… For everything, Sean. I appreciate it. More than you'll ever know."
Sean smiled and resettled his arms around Viggo. "I think I can imagine. And there's no reason to thank me. I'm here, I'm you're friend, it's what mates do right?"
"Yes." Agreed Viggo softly as he hugged Sean tightly. "It is."
They remained in silence for several more moments and tentatively Viggo extracted himself from Sean's embrace slightly.
"I think I'll live."
"Good, because I'm not sharing the bed with you if you're not."
Viggo laughed a little at Sean's statement and nodded before meeting his stare. "I feel like shit, but I'm alive." He felt his stomach flutter as Sean stroked his cheek and wiped away renegade trails of tears with his thumb. "I think I can go back to sleep now."
"You sure?" Sean asked arching an eyebrow skeptically. "I can make you some tea, get you some aspirins; just tell me what you need."
"You to hold me. And sleep." Viggo added almost as an afterthought. "I think I'm done dreaming for the night."
Sean placed a kiss upon Viggo's forehead and shifted on the mattress giving Viggo more room to lay down beside him. "If you say so."
Viggo settled down next to Sean and rested his head upon the other man's chest, the steady heartbeat relaxing every muscle in his body like a healing salve.
"Yeah, I say so."
~~~
On to Chapter 2
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Date: 2005-04-15 04:02 am (UTC)Your fic is so sweet...I love our guys like this...tentative yet loving...and all those years for Viggo...and Sean being such a cock tease...but in a good way!
I'm off to part two of your lovely fic! :)~
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Date: 2005-04-15 05:17 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading and I'm enjoying your comments along the way.
cheers!
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Date: 2005-04-24 04:14 am (UTC)actual tears :(
so moving
loves you to pieces