SPARRING PARTNERS - PART 4
Jun. 19th, 2005 12:06 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
shegollum.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rugbytackleSPARRING PARTNERS - PART 4
I hope you like it. Feedback is very much appreciated. Ciao!
**Don't be too worried about the het aspects at this point. We'll end up where we wanna be, I promise.**
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Title: SPARRING PARTNERS
Author: shegollum
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Archive: Rugbytackle
Warnings: Don't read it unless you're old enough and mature enough, 'kay?
Disclaimer: The thoughts and feelings exist but belong to others. Viggo and Sean had nothing to do with any of it. Not beta'd. All errors are mine alone.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Previous part can be found here:
http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=shegollum&keyword=SPARRING+PARTNERS&filter=all
Sean was sitting -- Viggo was sprawling -- on old crumbled-edge steps that surrounded a once important cannon in a quiet turnabout. They’d been making their somewhat alcohol-clouded way back to Viggo’s trailer when the American had stopped, looking skyward. He’d then suddenly stretched out on his back, saying he wanted to get a better look at the moon, which he’d read was to be 98% full on this night. Sean had plunked himself down next to Viggo, figuring it would just be easier to give in than to try and talk any sense into him. He watched, amused and bemused, as Viggo had lain back to view the night sky, not speaking for a while, only finally muttering something about the missing 2% and who decided 2% was missing anyway.
This struck Sean as so purely Viggo that he bypassed the entire process of laughing and somehow went straight to a ridiculously unmanly snort, followed abruptly by his more normal gleeful sounds. This scene seemed to tickle Viggo immensely as he sat bolt upright from his sprawled position on the steps, looking Sean full in the face with enormous blue eyes that were bursting with delight.
“What the fuck was that, Sean? Did you just snort? You did! And it was really, really loud! Good lord, man! There went any remaining vestiges of that smooth British exterior you’re supposed to have. Debonair Englishman, my ass,” he snickered. Unable to go any further on this train of thought, Viggo gave into full-blown drunken giggles, laying back down across several steps. They both laughed like the drunken fools they were.
“Oh my God, Sean,” said Viggo, raising the hem of his navy shirt to dry the corners of his eyes as his laughter trailed away. “Fuck, it is so good to have you here. I’ve missed you.”
He was sitting up now and leaned forward, elbows on his widespread knees, eyes focused on the moonlit steps under his feet. When he spoke again, his voice was a little more somber. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. Those times in New Zealand were such good times -- all of us there -- wanting to be there, and feeling so sure of what we were doing. Some sort of mob mentality, I guess...we all had the same vision leading us, we were all acting to reach the same goal...and that made it nice.”
He stopped, not satisfied with ‘nice’. “It was welcoming, I suppose. Every day there, it felt like we were really welcomed by people who knew us and liked us anyway,” he said with just a hint of a melancholy smile.
“But meeting you and gaining you as a friend was nicer still. And I should thank you for it.” With his last sentence he looked up at Sean with a face full of seriousness. “I mean it, Sean. I’m not the easiest guy to keep a friendship with and yours means the world to me. Thanks for coming all this way.”
Sean draped a heavy arm around his friend. “You’re me mate, Viggo. I missed you, too, plus I worry about you. Can’t help it. Always half expect you to wander out in traffic or forget where you live or something,” he teased, clenching his friend’s neck and squeezing them close together just for a moment.
He kept his arm around Viggo’s upper back and they both sat in the quiet for a while, unconsciously mirroring each other’s postures, totally at ease. After a few moments, Sean cleared his throat and thrust himself backwards, ending up in the same uncomfortable position Viggo had recently abandoned. “Now, what the fuck were you going on about? Two percent of the moon is missing? And you want a judge’s ruling on whether its really 2% or not, eh?” He stayed there for a while, looking through hands reconfigured as binoculars, eyes studiously focused on the glowing sky.
He pulled his arms back and pillowed his head with his clasped hands. “I dunno, Vig.” And then a breath later, he murmured very faintly, “ Why do you even think to ask, Viggo? No one else asks...but you do...you always question. Never afraid to hear an answer. Are you never afraid?” His voice sounded almost a bit angry on that last sentence and then he wearily asked it again, “Are you never afraid?”
Viggo looked at him somberly, thinking. He was leaning on one arm that was anchored next to Sean’s chest, moonlight glistening on the ends of his hair, shadow obscuring his face. He didn’t speak for a long time. When he did, it was in a voice that was unusually soft, even for him
“Of course I’m afraid at times, Sean. Of course. Not of whether or not there is really 2% of the moon gone missing or not...but I have a great fear of not having asked. To have missed the chance to know...” His softly raspy voice trailed off. “Missing the chance to know something...seems...unforgivable...inexcusable, I suppose. I guess I always want to know, even if I don’t always like what I learn.”
Silence wrapped around them again, so soft and uninterrupted that Viggo began to think perhaps Sean had fallen asleep until the Brit exhaled sharply and then kicked himself upright to a sitting position, causing Viggo to pull back or suffer a forehead to his nose.
“Evie wants a dog, Viggo.” He said it so seriously and earnestly that Viggo turned to him, waiting for the tragic dénouement that he half-expected to follow.
”And?”
“That’s all,” said Sean, “she wants a dog but she keeps telling me it will be for me own good, not for her.” He smiled softly, clearly thinking of his lovely blond-haired little girl and not even realizing how dire he’d made the statement sound. “One of her schoolmates has a corgi puppy, so I was thinking I might look into it. Her mum says she thinks it would be alright.”
Sean reached into his pocket, pulling out his iPod. “I haven’t shown you pictures of me girls yet, have I? They get more grown up every day. Here’s Lorna and Molly with me over Christmas. And here’s Evie in her day school photo…look at her dress – she insisted that was the one she wanted to wear.”
Sean scrolled through the pictures, eyes shining with pride and missing them, as he showed them to Viggo. The American was truly taken with them. He couldn’t believe how much they’d changed, how adult Sean’s first two girls looked in the photos where they were with him at a family dinner, dressed to the nines and looking aloof and beautiful. He was even more happy to see the silly ones of both girls, unmade up and barefoot, piling into their laughing dad’s lap and planting big kisses on his face. He smiled, feeling a pang in his own heart as he thought of his Henry. They’d all changed so much in the years since his ‘not even in junior high’ son had first urged his father to accept the role of Aragorn and now, when Henry was driving and finalizing college plans. Sitting there in the light of a 98% full moon, they shared pictures and stories of their children, both battling a degree of homesickness they’d not anticipated when the night began. Sean seemed to recognize the feeling creeping over them and abruptly changed the subject.
“So anyway, Vig,” he said. “Me assistant found a kennel here in Spain with 8-week old corgi pups and I thought I’d drive out to see them. Here, look at these photos they sent. Two boy pups and three girls they have. They’re funny little dogs...remind you of hobbits, don’t they? She told me the kennel is not far from here, an easy drive. I’ve got the address and all back in me bag so maybe I’ll go while you’re busy on set, huh?”
Viggo stood and looked at him, thinking.
“You’re not planning to go tomorrow, right? You’re gonna stick around for sword practice with me and Bob, I expect, seeing as how you said that you were going to get me ready for this film. I’m sure there are nuances of swordplay that I can only hope to learn from you after all…,” he batted his eyes at Sean, fangirling for all he was worth.
“You’re damn right,” the Brit crowed. “There will be no hiding behind the hobbits or the men of Gondor this time, mate. I suppose we need to be sure you get your beauty sleep before morning because God knows you’ll be pirouetting for the camera like some kind of lunatic and I’d like you to look good for it.”
Viggo kept his gaze locked on Sean’s face, grinning like a madman the entire time. He finally stretched out a hand and helped Sean to his feet.
“Since I need the beauty sleep – and this is my picture, after all – I’ll make sure you get good and comfy on the floor before I nod off in my bed,” he said as they strolled the short distance to the trailer.
Sean’s years of soccer playing paid off as he dropped back half a step and kicked Viggo square in the ass.
I hope you like it. Feedback is very much appreciated. Ciao!
**Don't be too worried about the het aspects at this point. We'll end up where we wanna be, I promise.**
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Title: SPARRING PARTNERS
Author: shegollum
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Archive: Rugbytackle
Warnings: Don't read it unless you're old enough and mature enough, 'kay?
Disclaimer: The thoughts and feelings exist but belong to others. Viggo and Sean had nothing to do with any of it. Not beta'd. All errors are mine alone.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Previous part can be found here:
http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=shegollum&keyword=SPARRING+PARTNERS&filter=all
Sean was sitting -- Viggo was sprawling -- on old crumbled-edge steps that surrounded a once important cannon in a quiet turnabout. They’d been making their somewhat alcohol-clouded way back to Viggo’s trailer when the American had stopped, looking skyward. He’d then suddenly stretched out on his back, saying he wanted to get a better look at the moon, which he’d read was to be 98% full on this night. Sean had plunked himself down next to Viggo, figuring it would just be easier to give in than to try and talk any sense into him. He watched, amused and bemused, as Viggo had lain back to view the night sky, not speaking for a while, only finally muttering something about the missing 2% and who decided 2% was missing anyway.
This struck Sean as so purely Viggo that he bypassed the entire process of laughing and somehow went straight to a ridiculously unmanly snort, followed abruptly by his more normal gleeful sounds. This scene seemed to tickle Viggo immensely as he sat bolt upright from his sprawled position on the steps, looking Sean full in the face with enormous blue eyes that were bursting with delight.
“What the fuck was that, Sean? Did you just snort? You did! And it was really, really loud! Good lord, man! There went any remaining vestiges of that smooth British exterior you’re supposed to have. Debonair Englishman, my ass,” he snickered. Unable to go any further on this train of thought, Viggo gave into full-blown drunken giggles, laying back down across several steps. They both laughed like the drunken fools they were.
“Oh my God, Sean,” said Viggo, raising the hem of his navy shirt to dry the corners of his eyes as his laughter trailed away. “Fuck, it is so good to have you here. I’ve missed you.”
He was sitting up now and leaned forward, elbows on his widespread knees, eyes focused on the moonlit steps under his feet. When he spoke again, his voice was a little more somber. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. Those times in New Zealand were such good times -- all of us there -- wanting to be there, and feeling so sure of what we were doing. Some sort of mob mentality, I guess...we all had the same vision leading us, we were all acting to reach the same goal...and that made it nice.”
He stopped, not satisfied with ‘nice’. “It was welcoming, I suppose. Every day there, it felt like we were really welcomed by people who knew us and liked us anyway,” he said with just a hint of a melancholy smile.
“But meeting you and gaining you as a friend was nicer still. And I should thank you for it.” With his last sentence he looked up at Sean with a face full of seriousness. “I mean it, Sean. I’m not the easiest guy to keep a friendship with and yours means the world to me. Thanks for coming all this way.”
Sean draped a heavy arm around his friend. “You’re me mate, Viggo. I missed you, too, plus I worry about you. Can’t help it. Always half expect you to wander out in traffic or forget where you live or something,” he teased, clenching his friend’s neck and squeezing them close together just for a moment.
He kept his arm around Viggo’s upper back and they both sat in the quiet for a while, unconsciously mirroring each other’s postures, totally at ease. After a few moments, Sean cleared his throat and thrust himself backwards, ending up in the same uncomfortable position Viggo had recently abandoned. “Now, what the fuck were you going on about? Two percent of the moon is missing? And you want a judge’s ruling on whether its really 2% or not, eh?” He stayed there for a while, looking through hands reconfigured as binoculars, eyes studiously focused on the glowing sky.
He pulled his arms back and pillowed his head with his clasped hands. “I dunno, Vig.” And then a breath later, he murmured very faintly, “ Why do you even think to ask, Viggo? No one else asks...but you do...you always question. Never afraid to hear an answer. Are you never afraid?” His voice sounded almost a bit angry on that last sentence and then he wearily asked it again, “Are you never afraid?”
Viggo looked at him somberly, thinking. He was leaning on one arm that was anchored next to Sean’s chest, moonlight glistening on the ends of his hair, shadow obscuring his face. He didn’t speak for a long time. When he did, it was in a voice that was unusually soft, even for him
“Of course I’m afraid at times, Sean. Of course. Not of whether or not there is really 2% of the moon gone missing or not...but I have a great fear of not having asked. To have missed the chance to know...” His softly raspy voice trailed off. “Missing the chance to know something...seems...unforgivable...inexcusable, I suppose. I guess I always want to know, even if I don’t always like what I learn.”
Silence wrapped around them again, so soft and uninterrupted that Viggo began to think perhaps Sean had fallen asleep until the Brit exhaled sharply and then kicked himself upright to a sitting position, causing Viggo to pull back or suffer a forehead to his nose.
“Evie wants a dog, Viggo.” He said it so seriously and earnestly that Viggo turned to him, waiting for the tragic dénouement that he half-expected to follow.
”And?”
“That’s all,” said Sean, “she wants a dog but she keeps telling me it will be for me own good, not for her.” He smiled softly, clearly thinking of his lovely blond-haired little girl and not even realizing how dire he’d made the statement sound. “One of her schoolmates has a corgi puppy, so I was thinking I might look into it. Her mum says she thinks it would be alright.”
Sean reached into his pocket, pulling out his iPod. “I haven’t shown you pictures of me girls yet, have I? They get more grown up every day. Here’s Lorna and Molly with me over Christmas. And here’s Evie in her day school photo…look at her dress – she insisted that was the one she wanted to wear.”
Sean scrolled through the pictures, eyes shining with pride and missing them, as he showed them to Viggo. The American was truly taken with them. He couldn’t believe how much they’d changed, how adult Sean’s first two girls looked in the photos where they were with him at a family dinner, dressed to the nines and looking aloof and beautiful. He was even more happy to see the silly ones of both girls, unmade up and barefoot, piling into their laughing dad’s lap and planting big kisses on his face. He smiled, feeling a pang in his own heart as he thought of his Henry. They’d all changed so much in the years since his ‘not even in junior high’ son had first urged his father to accept the role of Aragorn and now, when Henry was driving and finalizing college plans. Sitting there in the light of a 98% full moon, they shared pictures and stories of their children, both battling a degree of homesickness they’d not anticipated when the night began. Sean seemed to recognize the feeling creeping over them and abruptly changed the subject.
“So anyway, Vig,” he said. “Me assistant found a kennel here in Spain with 8-week old corgi pups and I thought I’d drive out to see them. Here, look at these photos they sent. Two boy pups and three girls they have. They’re funny little dogs...remind you of hobbits, don’t they? She told me the kennel is not far from here, an easy drive. I’ve got the address and all back in me bag so maybe I’ll go while you’re busy on set, huh?”
Viggo stood and looked at him, thinking.
“You’re not planning to go tomorrow, right? You’re gonna stick around for sword practice with me and Bob, I expect, seeing as how you said that you were going to get me ready for this film. I’m sure there are nuances of swordplay that I can only hope to learn from you after all…,” he batted his eyes at Sean, fangirling for all he was worth.
“You’re damn right,” the Brit crowed. “There will be no hiding behind the hobbits or the men of Gondor this time, mate. I suppose we need to be sure you get your beauty sleep before morning because God knows you’ll be pirouetting for the camera like some kind of lunatic and I’d like you to look good for it.”
Viggo kept his gaze locked on Sean’s face, grinning like a madman the entire time. He finally stretched out a hand and helped Sean to his feet.
“Since I need the beauty sleep – and this is my picture, after all – I’ll make sure you get good and comfy on the floor before I nod off in my bed,” he said as they strolled the short distance to the trailer.
Sean’s years of soccer playing paid off as he dropped back half a step and kicked Viggo square in the ass.
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no subject
Date: 2005-06-20 10:27 am (UTC)I'm wondering, though, why Sean would go to the trouble of getting Evie a puppy in a foreign country? Britain has very strict quarantine laws for incoming animals, and the pup would be sequestered for months after he got back home, before he could give it to her. It'd hardly be a puppy at all by the time he could bring it home. And Corgis being Welsh, I'd think there's be more then enough excellent breeding kennels right there in Great Britain, where he could pick out a pup and bring it right home to his daughter. I'm curious to see what his motivation is for getting a puppy in Spain.
Angie
no subject
Date: 2005-06-20 09:39 pm (UTC)And, er...um...not sure there is a whole lot more to the reasons for the corgi coming from there except that that is where Sean knew he would be. I almost trashed it because of what I knew from the past about the UK's quarantine laws etc., but those have been greatly reduced by a new law that allows pets to travel pretty freely within the EU countries which happily includes Spain. So its doable.
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Date: 2005-06-20 09:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-20 10:03 pm (UTC)Angie