Green Dark by shegollum -- Part 12/?
Oct. 18th, 2005 05:01 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}
rugbytackleThis is a dark ride. -- Shegollum
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: Green Dark by shegollum -- Part 12/?
Author: shegollum
Pairing: Viggo/Bean; includes some Orlando, too.
Rating: R - NC17
Summary: Morning after the night before...where are they in this strange new space?
Warnings: Angst; mental cruelty/instability; possibly non-con; cutting; substance abuse -- you name it...we've probably got it.
Disclaimer: No truth in it at all.
Archive: Viggo-Cursive and rugbytackle
A/N: Not beta'd. All errors are completely mine and mine alone. If you like it, please take the time to let me know. Its always appreciated. Thanks a bunch.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Banner by the wonderful Amanda (![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
legomyarrow). :-)
Sean woke with a start, the night close and dark around him in the unfamiliar room. He realized at once that he’d been dreaming, the warmth and eroticism of imagined passions twisted abruptly into heart-pounding signals of alarm that couldn’t be identified here and now in his waking life. His mind held tiny flickers of limbs and scents and gazes that gave in to bitter, savage anger.
Turning in his sweat-dampened sheets, he sat up and switched on the lamp, needing to see things solid and real. It was early… far too early to be awake but he knew sleep would not come again easily. He thought of his girls and his eyes squeezed shut with pain as a wave of needing them crashed into him. Too soon, he thought, too soon. He didn’t want them to see him until he was stronger, until he was able to last more than an hour without shaky hands and a craving for the bite of the scotch, the relief it brought with its haziness and eventual stupor.
He heard faint murmurs somewhere nearby and realized that Orlando must be awake. With a world-weary sigh, he got up and roamed into the hall, expecting to find the younger man in the screening room or den. Instead he saw his outline on the patio where he walked back and forth slowly as he spoke into a cell phone. Orlando’s voice was lower than usual and there were long moments where he spoke not at all, only listening and running a hand over his hair or along his jaw.
“… yeah… I know that… but I think he needs to prove something to himself before he calls them. He’s finding his feet again, yeah?”
Sean moved closer to the barely open patio doors, being careful to stay hidden but wanting to hear more, wondering who Orlando was speaking to about him. He never would have guessed the answer and when the name was finally spoken, he felt physical pain jolt his body, the urgency of anxiety, fear, anger, loss --above all else, the loss -- grabbing at him.
“I know that. And you certainly know that. But Viggo, see him for who he is. He is all about strength and backbone and resolve. Always has been. And he’s sure he’s failed at all of that, yeah? So he’s got to find it all again for himself.”
Frowning with annoyance, Sean was just about to interrupt angrily when he heard Orlando wrapping up the conversation.
“Okay, well that’s your scheduled update then, okay mate? Good enough? He’s all right… he’s doing well. No one is strong as Bean. He could have kicked scrawny old Aragorn’s ass, you know. Yeah… Now what about you, Vig?
The younger man had wandered farther into the yard and Sean caught only a few more words here and there. Confused, he set himself to work making tea, no longer trying to stay unseen. He ignored the microwave in favor of banging around in the cupboards until he found a proper kettle and then leaned against the counter as he waited, his arms crossed and his head bowed as he thought through what he’d overheard. He was annoyed to find himself the topic of a conversation he’d obviously not been meant to hear and bitterly confused as to why the other participant in the conversation had been Viggo. And most troubling of all was Orlando’s indication that Viggo had been asking for these updates. He had no idea what that could mean and less understanding as to why Orlando would agree to play into it given what he knew about how badly their relationship had deteriorated.
With the same elven movements he’d had long before Legolas, Orlando slipped through the door and was suddenly in the kitchen greeting him quietly, his cell phone tucked away and no mention made of the conversation he’d been having. Sean held him in his gaze and allowed himself the luxury of sweeping his eyes over the graceful yet manly form, enjoying the nervousness he knew he caused.
Orlando looked like he’d been caught at something. His tongue played at the corner of his mouth and he was not entirely comfortable in meeting Sean’s gaze -- although he gave it a good go. He murmured something about not sleeping well and thinking he’d have some tea as well and he moved past Sean, busying himself with finding a mug and the spoons.
Sean made no response and stayed where he was, knowing his silence and stillness would make the other man more nervous still. He watched the muscles moving in Orlando’s back as his long arms opened cabinets above his head, noted the long dark hair hanging farther down his back as he tilted his head up to look. Finally the younger man found the mugs and picked one, taking his time as he pulled it down to the counter before him, standing still with it for a long silent moment before he turned to face Sean.
“It was Viggo I was speaking to, yeah?”
“So I gathered.”
Eyelids closed over tired brown eyes and a full breath was held and then finally released before he spoke again.
“He cares about you. He’s asked me to let him know how you are.”
Anger glimmered in green eyes. “Why the fuck does he need to know anything about me anymore, Orlando?! He recently made it crystal clear that he doesn't give a shit.”
“Beanie… Sean… He does care. I can’t tell you why he did what he did – hell, I don’t even know what he did… not really… but it’s not in Viggo to not care. You know that as well as I do.” Orlando’s eyes were shadowed and tired, his words quietly spoken. And yet still, the words he spoke – the implicit praise of the other man – hurt Sean and frustrated him as it underscored only what he’d come to realize didn’t really exist.
He moved closer, suddenly predatory in his anger. He pinned the younger man to the opposite counter, almost but not quite leaning against him, his fists against the cool granite on either side of him. He wouldn’t let Orlando look away, pulling his face back to him when the younger man leaned to the side and tried to slide away.
“He’s not what you think he is, Orlando. He’s not who I thought he was. He’s simply not.” As he spoke, his voice grew huskier with emotion. Loss – the ever-present hollow ache – clutched at him, and he wanted so much to be who he’d been, how he’d been—all of it wrapped up in those golden years in New Zealand and after. Wrapped up in Viggo, he realized with a surge of such rage that he closed his eyes tightly against the rush, willing it away. When he opened them again, soft caring eyes were watching him and radiating concern and questions. He suddenly realized he wanted something, something that could be found in warm brown eyes. He wanted to forget, and he leaned closer. The eyes changed, the brown grew more guarded and he suspected that his own reflected the same things – a dare and a need. He tilted his head, allowing his eyes to drop to the soft mouth, the smooth skin, and his hand found Orlando’s hip.
He wanted this… he needed this… he wanted more than anything to want this.
And then the younger man pushed him back, gently and with a raspy “No.” Sean couldn’t meet his eyes, didn’t try, and then unexpectedly, Orlando was pulling him close, wrapping him in a strong and warm embrace and tucking his bowed head under his chin as though Sean were a child.
“It’s all right,” he whispered soothingly. “I would want it, too, Sean. But not this way, yeah? Not for any of us.”
Sean was still against him, realizing that he didn’t trust his voice yet. He allowed himself a moment more in the hug and then pulled away, searching Orlando’s face and finding there sadness and tiredness but also friendship and caring.
“What, Orlando? What did we think we saw? In him? About him?” he asked with quiet pain in every word. “I thought he was someone else. And now… I’m lost, Orlando… I don’t know how to be again. Fuck. Fuck!! I don't give myself over. But I did! And he changed the way I saw everything... every fucking thing. And then he told me it was all a game… a farce…“
“Sean? Think about what you’re saying, mate.” Orlando held Sean’s head between his hands and forced their eyes to meet. “Think about it. This is Viggo. And I saw him just the same, mate. Saw the warmth and the love in him. But it was always you in his eyes. I don’t know what happened and I don’t need to. But you’re both so broken right now and you somehow need to find your own peace with it all. He's broken, too, Sean. He's hurting. And when you're strong enough, he needs you. You need to go to him, Sean, if only to put this behind you both.”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“Call him. Talk to him.” The younger man held out his phone to him and for an aching moment of such sharp want and need, Sean almost took it from him. But then he withdrew again. Completely. When Orlando looked up at Sean, he noticed the change in him, the flat aspect to his eyes and his expression and he knew the night was lost.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: Green Dark by shegollum -- Part 12/?
Author: shegollum
Pairing: Viggo/Bean; includes some Orlando, too.
Rating: R - NC17
Summary: Morning after the night before...where are they in this strange new space?
Warnings: Angst; mental cruelty/instability; possibly non-con; cutting; substance abuse -- you name it...we've probably got it.
Disclaimer: No truth in it at all.
Archive: Viggo-Cursive and rugbytackle
A/N: Not beta'd. All errors are completely mine and mine alone. If you like it, please take the time to let me know. Its always appreciated. Thanks a bunch.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
legomyarrow). :-) Sean woke with a start, the night close and dark around him in the unfamiliar room. He realized at once that he’d been dreaming, the warmth and eroticism of imagined passions twisted abruptly into heart-pounding signals of alarm that couldn’t be identified here and now in his waking life. His mind held tiny flickers of limbs and scents and gazes that gave in to bitter, savage anger.
Turning in his sweat-dampened sheets, he sat up and switched on the lamp, needing to see things solid and real. It was early… far too early to be awake but he knew sleep would not come again easily. He thought of his girls and his eyes squeezed shut with pain as a wave of needing them crashed into him. Too soon, he thought, too soon. He didn’t want them to see him until he was stronger, until he was able to last more than an hour without shaky hands and a craving for the bite of the scotch, the relief it brought with its haziness and eventual stupor.
He heard faint murmurs somewhere nearby and realized that Orlando must be awake. With a world-weary sigh, he got up and roamed into the hall, expecting to find the younger man in the screening room or den. Instead he saw his outline on the patio where he walked back and forth slowly as he spoke into a cell phone. Orlando’s voice was lower than usual and there were long moments where he spoke not at all, only listening and running a hand over his hair or along his jaw.
“… yeah… I know that… but I think he needs to prove something to himself before he calls them. He’s finding his feet again, yeah?”
Sean moved closer to the barely open patio doors, being careful to stay hidden but wanting to hear more, wondering who Orlando was speaking to about him. He never would have guessed the answer and when the name was finally spoken, he felt physical pain jolt his body, the urgency of anxiety, fear, anger, loss --above all else, the loss -- grabbing at him.
“I know that. And you certainly know that. But Viggo, see him for who he is. He is all about strength and backbone and resolve. Always has been. And he’s sure he’s failed at all of that, yeah? So he’s got to find it all again for himself.”
Frowning with annoyance, Sean was just about to interrupt angrily when he heard Orlando wrapping up the conversation.
“Okay, well that’s your scheduled update then, okay mate? Good enough? He’s all right… he’s doing well. No one is strong as Bean. He could have kicked scrawny old Aragorn’s ass, you know. Yeah… Now what about you, Vig?
The younger man had wandered farther into the yard and Sean caught only a few more words here and there. Confused, he set himself to work making tea, no longer trying to stay unseen. He ignored the microwave in favor of banging around in the cupboards until he found a proper kettle and then leaned against the counter as he waited, his arms crossed and his head bowed as he thought through what he’d overheard. He was annoyed to find himself the topic of a conversation he’d obviously not been meant to hear and bitterly confused as to why the other participant in the conversation had been Viggo. And most troubling of all was Orlando’s indication that Viggo had been asking for these updates. He had no idea what that could mean and less understanding as to why Orlando would agree to play into it given what he knew about how badly their relationship had deteriorated.
With the same elven movements he’d had long before Legolas, Orlando slipped through the door and was suddenly in the kitchen greeting him quietly, his cell phone tucked away and no mention made of the conversation he’d been having. Sean held him in his gaze and allowed himself the luxury of sweeping his eyes over the graceful yet manly form, enjoying the nervousness he knew he caused.
Orlando looked like he’d been caught at something. His tongue played at the corner of his mouth and he was not entirely comfortable in meeting Sean’s gaze -- although he gave it a good go. He murmured something about not sleeping well and thinking he’d have some tea as well and he moved past Sean, busying himself with finding a mug and the spoons.
Sean made no response and stayed where he was, knowing his silence and stillness would make the other man more nervous still. He watched the muscles moving in Orlando’s back as his long arms opened cabinets above his head, noted the long dark hair hanging farther down his back as he tilted his head up to look. Finally the younger man found the mugs and picked one, taking his time as he pulled it down to the counter before him, standing still with it for a long silent moment before he turned to face Sean.
“It was Viggo I was speaking to, yeah?”
“So I gathered.”
Eyelids closed over tired brown eyes and a full breath was held and then finally released before he spoke again.
“He cares about you. He’s asked me to let him know how you are.”
Anger glimmered in green eyes. “Why the fuck does he need to know anything about me anymore, Orlando?! He recently made it crystal clear that he doesn't give a shit.”
“Beanie… Sean… He does care. I can’t tell you why he did what he did – hell, I don’t even know what he did… not really… but it’s not in Viggo to not care. You know that as well as I do.” Orlando’s eyes were shadowed and tired, his words quietly spoken. And yet still, the words he spoke – the implicit praise of the other man – hurt Sean and frustrated him as it underscored only what he’d come to realize didn’t really exist.
He moved closer, suddenly predatory in his anger. He pinned the younger man to the opposite counter, almost but not quite leaning against him, his fists against the cool granite on either side of him. He wouldn’t let Orlando look away, pulling his face back to him when the younger man leaned to the side and tried to slide away.
“He’s not what you think he is, Orlando. He’s not who I thought he was. He’s simply not.” As he spoke, his voice grew huskier with emotion. Loss – the ever-present hollow ache – clutched at him, and he wanted so much to be who he’d been, how he’d been—all of it wrapped up in those golden years in New Zealand and after. Wrapped up in Viggo, he realized with a surge of such rage that he closed his eyes tightly against the rush, willing it away. When he opened them again, soft caring eyes were watching him and radiating concern and questions. He suddenly realized he wanted something, something that could be found in warm brown eyes. He wanted to forget, and he leaned closer. The eyes changed, the brown grew more guarded and he suspected that his own reflected the same things – a dare and a need. He tilted his head, allowing his eyes to drop to the soft mouth, the smooth skin, and his hand found Orlando’s hip.
He wanted this… he needed this… he wanted more than anything to want this.
And then the younger man pushed him back, gently and with a raspy “No.” Sean couldn’t meet his eyes, didn’t try, and then unexpectedly, Orlando was pulling him close, wrapping him in a strong and warm embrace and tucking his bowed head under his chin as though Sean were a child.
“It’s all right,” he whispered soothingly. “I would want it, too, Sean. But not this way, yeah? Not for any of us.”
Sean was still against him, realizing that he didn’t trust his voice yet. He allowed himself a moment more in the hug and then pulled away, searching Orlando’s face and finding there sadness and tiredness but also friendship and caring.
“What, Orlando? What did we think we saw? In him? About him?” he asked with quiet pain in every word. “I thought he was someone else. And now… I’m lost, Orlando… I don’t know how to be again. Fuck. Fuck!! I don't give myself over. But I did! And he changed the way I saw everything... every fucking thing. And then he told me it was all a game… a farce…“
“Sean? Think about what you’re saying, mate.” Orlando held Sean’s head between his hands and forced their eyes to meet. “Think about it. This is Viggo. And I saw him just the same, mate. Saw the warmth and the love in him. But it was always you in his eyes. I don’t know what happened and I don’t need to. But you’re both so broken right now and you somehow need to find your own peace with it all. He's broken, too, Sean. He's hurting. And when you're strong enough, he needs you. You need to go to him, Sean, if only to put this behind you both.”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“Call him. Talk to him.” The younger man held out his phone to him and for an aching moment of such sharp want and need, Sean almost took it from him. But then he withdrew again. Completely. When Orlando looked up at Sean, he noticed the change in him, the flat aspect to his eyes and his expression and he knew the night was lost.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-19 03:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 01:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-19 05:23 am (UTC)Sure a promising new start,isn't it??
no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 01:09 am (UTC)(love your icon)
no subject
Date: 2005-10-19 02:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 01:12 am (UTC)by the way, a few other people have said they don't want to read until i've gone far enough that they can go through the hardest parts very quickly! not a bad idea either. :-) ty again, for reading and for commenting and encouraging. *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2005-10-25 06:39 pm (UTC)I've been away for a bit (again. Oxford, this time), but it's good to be back and get caught up. Yay for Very Grownup Orlando!