Family values 2/7
Jan. 26th, 2008 02:49 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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rugbytackleTitle : Family Values 2/7
Pairing : Sean/Viggo
Rating : upto NC-17
Warning : AU
Summary : Sean is a succesfull solicitor, and unhappily married. Guess what happens when his daughter falls in love with Viggo's son. Viggo who is unruly and hippy-like.
Authors :![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mooms (Viggo) & govi20 (Sean)
DISCLAIMER : Written for fun, not for profit. All lies !
Previous part : here
Pairing : Sean/Viggo
Rating : upto NC-17
Warning : AU
Summary : Sean is a succesfull solicitor, and unhappily married. Guess what happens when his daughter falls in love with Viggo's son. Viggo who is unruly and hippy-like.
Authors :
mooms (Viggo) & govi20 (Sean) DISCLAIMER : Written for fun, not for profit. All lies !
Previous part : here
Family Values
Part 2/7
Viggo
Busted by Mary!
She is standing, hands on hips and if looks could kill, poor Sean would be rapidly cooling on the quarry tile floor.
Sean looks as guilty as a vicar caught with his hand up a choir boy’s cassock and actually blushes, charmingly. I stifle the urge to giggle and look appealingly over his head to Chris, who is carrying a tray of coffee mugs and a cafétière.
She grins, but comes to our aid,
“Mary, what a charming conservatory, so clever, what you’ve done with this house. And your back yard is just …. Do please show me!”
She puts down the tray and puts her arm round Mary, pushing her in front of her, through the French doors into the fragrant garden. As they leave, she turns and mouths at me,
“You owe me!”
I turn back to Sean and take the joint from his limp fingers, putting it out and back into my tin. The poor guy looks a little shell-shocked and when he doesn’t do that stiff-upper lip, ramrod-backed British thing, he is actually very cute. I am convinced that he had a pretty interesting youth, which he has firmly suppressed and I find myself wondering what he would be like if the lid blew off and let it all out.
Poor bastard! His eyes are vulnerable and filled with longing. It would be doing a kindness to rescue him. We are allies for the moment, then his eyes narrow and he puts the mask back on.
“Nevertheless, Viggo, I stand by what I said earlier. I want my daughter to complete her studies undistracted and I don’t want her seeing your son. Do I make myself clear?”
“Oh yes,” I say, my mellow mood spoilt. “You make yourself perfectly clear, but they are both of age and they will choose their own friends, as I am sure you did at their age.”
He winces a little and I know I have scored a hit. I don’t feel any satisfaction, though. Angry as he makes me, I still feel sorry for him.
“So you won’t cooperate with me?”
“It’s really none of my business or yours, Sean.”
“Well I beg to disagree. Lucy is living under my roof and I support her financially.”
“Blake tells me she has a part-time job in a retirement home.”
“Yes, she does help out there. She started it as a community project from the school and stayed on, because she has a rapport with elderly people. It’s all very commendable, but the pay is negligible. She is dependent on me and she will do as she is told, while she lives under this roof.”
I think of Lucy’s red hair, flashing green eyes and resolute jaw.
“Well all I can say, man, is ‘Good Luck’ and wear your hard hat, when you tell her!”
Sean snorts angrily and doesn’t reply. He pours coffee and we are rejoined by our wives. Coffee and brandies are sipped in a frosty silence. Mary shoots barbed glances at Sean from time to time and I figure that he is clearly in trouble and headed for the spare room tonight.
We leave as soon as we politely can and Chris tells Mary that they must come to us soon for the return leg. That doesn’t seem very likely, I have to say. I fix Sean with a penetrating look as we shake hands and say goodnight. I am not really worried about the kids. I am confident that they can cope with anything thrown at them, but I am kind of regretful that I won’t be getting to know Sean better.
On the walk home, Chris links arms again and says,
“Shit! That was a fun evening! Their back yard is beautiful, though. Mary says that Sean does all the work himself. It’s his hobby.”
She frowns, when I tell her what he said about Blake and Lucy. Like me, she is sensitive to any slights against our son and also like me, she thinks he is a very special person. She laughs, though, at the thought of Lucy bending meekly to her father’s bidding.
“Sean is in for one hell of a storm if he thinks he can dictate to Lucy. That is one very together and strong-minded young woman.”
“Do you think we should warn them?”
“Best not to! Let Lucy and her dad sort it out. I think I’ll make up the spare room, when we get home, though!”
“For me?”
“No, idiot, for Lucy!”
Sean
Even Mary recognizes the particular smell, and her eyes and tone of her voice tell me she’s mighty angry. Oh well, it’s not the first time and it won’t be the last time either, but it’s not something I want to fight about with Chris and Viggo still here. Surprisingly, Chris comes to my aid. She leads Mary almost forcefully to the back garden, and Viggo takes the joint still dangling between my fingers.
When I look up I find Viggo’s eyes soft and understanding and for a moment I feel the urge to let it all out, but then I remember Lucy and I straighten up. I tell Viggo that Lucy and Blake will have to stop seeing each other. He mocks me, telling me Lucy won’t listen and will do as she pleases, but I am determined to set my rules for once and for all. She’ll be grateful for it later, I tell myself.
I remind Viggo that Lucy lives here under my roof, and I pay for everything she could possibly want, but he doesn’t seem to think I’ll be able to stop her. We’ll see about that. I’ll have a long talk with her tomorrow morning, I promise myself.
Viggo and Chris don’t stay very long after this, and I can’t blame them, because Mary isn’t able to hide her contempt for me, and undoubtedly for Viggo, as well. I am relieved when they finally go, but also kind of sorry. If things had been different, and Lucy wasn’t involved, then maybe Viggo and I could have been friends.
The people that come here on a regular basis, or we visit – suppers, parties – they are all really Mary’s friends. None of them is even remotely interested in football or in art for instance. I like art for itself, but for them it’s only an investment,
I always accepted that as the price to pay for having my daughter and a fairly nice lifestyle, but sometimes I feel lonely and long for the pubs and the beer filled evenings we had in my hometown, Sheffield.
The moment the door has closed behind our visitors, Mary turns to me. Her face is contorted with anger and she spits out her words.
“How dare you Sean Bean? Using drugs in my house!”
It has been a stressful evening, and I’ve had enough. Gabbing her arm I pull her close, not caring about the pained look on her face.
“Look here,” I say, “this is my house too and I will bloody well do whatever I feel like in it. As a matter of fact, I pay for all this pretentious shite, so it’s even more my house than yours. And tonight I don’t feel like sleeping in the same room as you do, so I’ll take one of the guest rooms. Goodnight! “
Leaving her stunned, I turn around and climb up the stairs. Fuck her!
The next morning, Sunday morning, Mary doesn’t speak a word to me, but wears the face of a martyr, when she hands me my breakfast. I try to start a conversation, because I am a bit ashamed of the way I behaved yesterday night, but she only answers in monosyllables, then she leaves for church.
Lucy comes down rather cheerful, and she lays her hand on my shoulder when she ruffles my hair with the other one. I love her so much it hurts, but as much as I long to give her everything she wants I know I am the adult here, and I need to protect her.
I smile at her, and grab her hand.
“I would like to have a word with you after breakfast, “I say.
Lucy nods reluctantly, and I recognize the stubborn set of her jaw. I’ve seen it in my mirror more than once, and I’ve seen my Dad look like that, and it makes me a bit apprehensive about what’s coming.
After breakfast we go and sit in the living room, and I try to talk a little sense into her head. Of course she doesn’t agree with me, and even though I really meant to stay calm I fail miserably. Unfortunately Mary and I both have a temper, and our daughter has certainly inherited it.
In the end we’re shouting until we’re both out of breath. Suddenly the room turns silent and we stare at each other. Her cheeks are flushed and she looks like she going to cry.
“I love him Dad, and I will not break up with him.”
“If you want to live here, you’ll have to.”
She looks me straight in the eye, her voice loud and calm.
“Then I guess I don’t live here anymore,” and with that she turns and leaves the room.
I slump down in my chair, and try to ignore the sounds coming from upstairs. A little while later she stands in the door, a small suitcase in her hand. I can see she’s been crying, but her eyes are dry now.
“Tell mum I will call her,” she says and then she’s gone.
She’ll be back, I tell myself.
Viggo
Back home, we meet the kids just about to leave with Bella on her leash. Blake is about to walk Lucy home. They look so happy and right, together that I feel a pang of regret. Chris and I were once like that.
They are so wrapped up in each other that they don’t even ask us how our evening went, much to my relief.
I follow Chris upstairs and help her to make up the spare bed. As we work, she asks me why I thought this was going to be for me.
Sighing, I look her in the eye.
“It’s not like I actually belong with you in our bed any more, is it? What is Paul doing this evening? It is Paul, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s Paul. How long have you known?”
“A while. I always know, Chris. You begin to detach yourself from me, just in case this time it’s for real and you’ll be wanting to leave.”
“Viggo, I do love you, you know that, right? It’s just that I don’t love you the same way…….”
“……you love Paul. I figured.”
“Look, this evening we were close. Why don’t you come to bed and we’ll talk in the morning. I do still care very much for you.”
She takes my hand and pulls me into our room, then kisses me and starts to work her hands under my tee shirt.
“Please don’t, Chris. We haven’t done this in months. I really don’t need a pity fuck.”
I push her away gently and lock myself into our en suite bathroom. I hear the door of the family bathroom slam and gather that she has gone in there, as Blake is not home yet.
Reluctant to come out, I use the toilet, then brush my teeth slowly, looking at myself in the mirror. The face that looks back at me is still that of a husband and father, but not for much longer. I don’t want to fight with Chris I am still fond of her and I respect her as the mother of our son. I feel sad that our marriage is coming to an end, but I know it is time. I don’t feel bitter.
I decide to have a shower, to prolong my time in here and as I strip off my clothes and step under the water, I find myself thinking about Sean. The surface of his smooth, family life is about to be shattered by one hell of a big rock, I think. I can’t believe that he is happy or fulfilled, living with that sour bitch. When he drops the pompous ass act, he’s quite vulnerable really. Not to mention hot.
Unsurprisingly, I find that thinking about Sean has made me hard and as my philosophy is never to waste an erection, I slide my soapy hand down my cock and close my eyes. This has been the only way I’ve had any satisfaction lately and as always, my masturbation fantasies are of men, not women. Maybe I shouldn’t have suppressed this side of my personality over all these years.
Now my fantasy has a face, with green eyes. I bite my hand as I come to stifle the cry.
When I get up the courage to poke my head out the door, Chris is apparently asleep on her side of the bed, her back turned to mine. I climb in on my side and lie as close to the edge as I can, but it takes an age before I can sleep.
In the morning, I wake very late and alone in the bed. When I arrive in the kitchen, I find Chris and Blake comforting a tearful Lucy. From the suitcase by the door, I gather than Chris was right and we have a houseguest.
Chris and I exchange a chaste morning kiss, then she picks up the case and takes Lucy upstairs to settle her in her room.
I smile at Blake and put my hand over his to show solidarity.
“Why does her dad have to be such a prick, Dad? He tried to blackmail her into dumping me. What right does he have?”
“Easy, son. He loves his daughter, just like you do. He thinks he’s protecting her.”
“But he’s wrong!”
“I know, I know. She can stay here as long as she needs to, but we need to call her parents and let them know she’s okay.”
Chris has come back into the kitchen and heard my last sentence.
“I’ll call her mom, as she thinks you are a dangerous drug fiend and a bad influence on Sean!”
Blake looks at me suspiciously.
“Dad, what did you do?”
I confess sheepishly, but add in my defence that Sean had already made his mind up that Lucy and Blake were a bad thing and prepared his speech and anyway, he was holding the spliff, when Mary caught us.
Blake rolls his eyes and mutters something about ‘so called responsible adults’, as he heads upstairs.
Chris comes back and says that Mary wasn’t there and she spoke to Sean. He was pretty angry that Lucy was here with us and practically accused us of abducting her. He is on his way round here, but Lucy says she doesn’t want to see him. I am to go out and intercept him.
I sigh and put on my shoes. What does she expect me to do? Rugby tackle him?
Sean
It’s about an hour and a half later when the phone rings. During that time I have just sat in my chair, feeling stunned by the events. I just can’t believe this has really happened, that she’s gone. Only the thought that she might call, and ask me to pick her up from wherever she went keeps me from taking a double scotch. I don’t fucking care if it’s only eleven in the morning.
I jump up to grab the phone – Mary hasn’t returned from church yet, thank God, I think wryly – and answer it, hoping to hear Lucy’s voice. But it’s Chris, and when she tells me Lucy is with them, that they will let her sleep in their spare room, I feel red hot anger creeping up my spine. They have my girl, and lord knows what those fucking hippies will do. They’ll probably encourage her to smoke pot or worse, and there’s probably no such thing as a spare room. Even if there is that Blake will talk his way into her bed, and …
I downright growl into the phone that I am coming over, coming to get her, and without waiting for Chris’s answer I throw down the phone
I am halfway there, when I see Viggo. He stops in front of me, his hands up in a pleading gesture, but I bat them away, and grab him by the throat. I want to hit, hurt him, kill him even, but somehow through the red haze I realize he’s holding me in a firm grip. I curse, unable to wrestle myself loose and get to him, until I am exhausted and give up.
I know I am strong, I’ve always been strong, and underneath the expensive suits, there’s a dirty street fighter, hiding most of the time, prominently there when I am furious though. But this man, Viggo, is equally strong and a reluctant respect for him dawns in me.
He must have noticed the fight is out of me, because he loosens his grip, but still holds me. My body relaxes against his, and for a moment I cling to him – and fuck, does that feel good – until I think of Lucy and let him go.
Viggo steps back cautiously, his eyes on mine.
“Let’s sit down and have a talk Sean,” he says. “There’s a pub on the other side of the street. Let’s go there and have a drink. “
There’s something to be said for that, so I just nod and follow him meekly to the pub. Luckily it’s not very busy this time of the day and we find an empty booth in the far corner. We both order beer - yes Mary’s going to bash me for that, but I am beyond caring – and we drink in silence for a while.
“You know, Sean, “he says, choosing his words carefully, “it’s been a while since I’ve been in a place like this, having a drink. It’s not like I have that many friends over here. It would be nice if we could be friends instead of fighting each other.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I reply, “you’ve got my daughter.”
Now he chuckles. “You make it sound like I have abducted her Sean. I know you don’t approve of our lifestyle, but we’ll take care of her, I promise. And maybe it’s better if you put a little distance between the two of you. It’s only healthy. I know she’s you’re only daughter and I know you’re worried, but nothing bad will happen to her. Chris and I will take care of her. Now let’s order another one of these disgusting beers and maybe I’ll even start appreciating it.”
I can’t help laughing about that, and we order another beer. Before too long we are talking about all kinds of stuff, and it’s not like I’ve forgotten Lucy, I am just beginning to believe Viggo’s not that bad.
In the middle of a conversation about David Bowie I suddenly ask him. “Is it true about Lucy having her own room with you?”
He looks me straight in the eye. “Yes Sean, she has her own room. But I can’t stop them from getting together, just like you couldn’t stop them when she was living with you. Come on Sean, as long as they are careful. I had sex for the first time when I was fifteen, how old were you?”
I stare at him when I try to think back, the implications of Lucy having sex forgotten for the moment.
“I think I was sixteen,” I say. “Fifteen? Who was she and how old was she?”
He smiles a coy smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“It was a he Sean, not a she, and he must have been about seventeen.”
Again I can only sit and stare, and then gulp down my beer; Mary will have my hide when I come home. Our daughter gone and me stinking of beer. But I can’t tear myself loose from the steady gaze of those blue eyes. Fuck!
Viggo
I literally run into Sean, halfway between our houses and his first reaction is to try and fight me.
He is a strong guy, but so am I, although I don’t necessarily look it. I don’t want to fight him and when he goes for me I simply grab him and hold on to him to stop him from killing me.
We struggle for a while, then I literally feel the fight go out of him and he slumps in my arms. I hold him for a while and then suggest we retire to the nearby pub to talk things over.
Choosing a quiet, corner booth, we get our beers and face each other. After a time, I suggest that we could become friends, but he quickly counters with the retort that I have his daughter.
I am sorry for him, but I have to laugh. He makes me sound like a people trafficker! She came to us, for fuck’s sake!
I try to reassure him that we will take good care of her and make a joke about the warm beer we are drinking. He laughs and that seems to break the ice. We get another beer and start to talk like regular people. We are the same age, give or take six months and it turns out we shared the same tastes in music and, I suspect, other things.
He abruptly asks me if it is true that Lucy has her own room at our house.
I tell him that it is, but point out that there’s no force on earth that can keep two horny teenagers apart, though I don’t put it quite as brutally as that.
It gives me the opening to ask him how old he was, when he lost his virginity and tell him about losing mine. He tells me he was around 16, so I was right that he wasn’t so prudish in his past and I would take a bet that my spliff wasn’t his first toke.
As for sexual preferences, I drop the bombshell that I didn’t lose my virginity to a girl at all.
He stares at me, like a rabbit in the headlights and takes a long pull at his beer. He is certainly not shocked, though, more fascinated, I would say and he certainly makes no move to leave.
“Yeah, Sean, I was into boys even before I was into girls and I swung both ways right until I married Chris. Fell in love regularly with members of both sexes. How about you?”
Sean blushes again. Shit, I love it when he does that! His tongue flicks our and moistens his dry lips. After a couple of false, stuttering starts, he gets up the courage to answer me.
“Well girls, of course at first, most of the time, really, but there was a time in my late teens, when I used to go to clubs and……..”
He downs the rest of his beer in one long swallow and says,
“You ready for another of these?”
I finish my beer and nod, watching him as he goes to the bar for refills.
He has a very attractive ass under those jeans and I feel a tightening in my own. I wonder what Blake will say if I tell him I fancy the pants off his prospective father in law, who already thinks we are a family of gypsies, tramps and thieves.
We start on the third beer in a pretty short time and it crosses my mind that we may both be in trouble, but with a mental shrug, I dismiss it. I am enjoying myself way too much.
“So, Sean, you were telling me about the clubs you used to go to?”
He takes a swallow and goes on, hesitantly at first, then more fluently, telling me how he did get involved in some interesting scenes and even admitting that he had several experiences with men.
Seems that he then got his place at the LSE in to study law, the first generation of his Northern, working class family to do so, he tells me proudly. His parents were so proud of him, that he determined work hard and do well. There was a hell of a lot of work anyway in his chosen subject and after he moved down to London, he kind of shelved his social life and just worked.
I start to understand more and more about him. He qualified as a solicitor, married the daughter of one of the senior partners and settled down to a life of conformity and basically boredom. He has his own law practice now, doing very well. He tails off and savagely gulps at his pint.
“And now I’m trapped in that fucking mausoleum to Mary’s “good taste”, with a pretentious woman I don’t have any feelings for any more except contempt. The only good thing in my life is my daughter and now I’ve lost her to your fucking son!”
I close my hand over his.
“Sean, you haven’t lost her. Lucy is a good kid and she loves you. She’s just taking some time out. Give her some space. Blake is a good kid too and he loves her dearly.”
A shadow falls over our table and a deep voice says,
“Hi Viggo, can I buy you a drink? Your friend too.”
“Yes, please. We’ll have both have a single malt. Talisker okay for you?”
Sean nods and looks at me questioningly as Paul heads for the bar.
“That, my friend is the guy, who is fucking my wife and who she’s going to leave me for!”
TBC
Part 2/7
Viggo
Busted by Mary!
She is standing, hands on hips and if looks could kill, poor Sean would be rapidly cooling on the quarry tile floor.
Sean looks as guilty as a vicar caught with his hand up a choir boy’s cassock and actually blushes, charmingly. I stifle the urge to giggle and look appealingly over his head to Chris, who is carrying a tray of coffee mugs and a cafétière.
She grins, but comes to our aid,
“Mary, what a charming conservatory, so clever, what you’ve done with this house. And your back yard is just …. Do please show me!”
She puts down the tray and puts her arm round Mary, pushing her in front of her, through the French doors into the fragrant garden. As they leave, she turns and mouths at me,
“You owe me!”
I turn back to Sean and take the joint from his limp fingers, putting it out and back into my tin. The poor guy looks a little shell-shocked and when he doesn’t do that stiff-upper lip, ramrod-backed British thing, he is actually very cute. I am convinced that he had a pretty interesting youth, which he has firmly suppressed and I find myself wondering what he would be like if the lid blew off and let it all out.
Poor bastard! His eyes are vulnerable and filled with longing. It would be doing a kindness to rescue him. We are allies for the moment, then his eyes narrow and he puts the mask back on.
“Nevertheless, Viggo, I stand by what I said earlier. I want my daughter to complete her studies undistracted and I don’t want her seeing your son. Do I make myself clear?”
“Oh yes,” I say, my mellow mood spoilt. “You make yourself perfectly clear, but they are both of age and they will choose their own friends, as I am sure you did at their age.”
He winces a little and I know I have scored a hit. I don’t feel any satisfaction, though. Angry as he makes me, I still feel sorry for him.
“So you won’t cooperate with me?”
“It’s really none of my business or yours, Sean.”
“Well I beg to disagree. Lucy is living under my roof and I support her financially.”
“Blake tells me she has a part-time job in a retirement home.”
“Yes, she does help out there. She started it as a community project from the school and stayed on, because she has a rapport with elderly people. It’s all very commendable, but the pay is negligible. She is dependent on me and she will do as she is told, while she lives under this roof.”
I think of Lucy’s red hair, flashing green eyes and resolute jaw.
“Well all I can say, man, is ‘Good Luck’ and wear your hard hat, when you tell her!”
Sean snorts angrily and doesn’t reply. He pours coffee and we are rejoined by our wives. Coffee and brandies are sipped in a frosty silence. Mary shoots barbed glances at Sean from time to time and I figure that he is clearly in trouble and headed for the spare room tonight.
We leave as soon as we politely can and Chris tells Mary that they must come to us soon for the return leg. That doesn’t seem very likely, I have to say. I fix Sean with a penetrating look as we shake hands and say goodnight. I am not really worried about the kids. I am confident that they can cope with anything thrown at them, but I am kind of regretful that I won’t be getting to know Sean better.
On the walk home, Chris links arms again and says,
“Shit! That was a fun evening! Their back yard is beautiful, though. Mary says that Sean does all the work himself. It’s his hobby.”
She frowns, when I tell her what he said about Blake and Lucy. Like me, she is sensitive to any slights against our son and also like me, she thinks he is a very special person. She laughs, though, at the thought of Lucy bending meekly to her father’s bidding.
“Sean is in for one hell of a storm if he thinks he can dictate to Lucy. That is one very together and strong-minded young woman.”
“Do you think we should warn them?”
“Best not to! Let Lucy and her dad sort it out. I think I’ll make up the spare room, when we get home, though!”
“For me?”
“No, idiot, for Lucy!”
Sean
Even Mary recognizes the particular smell, and her eyes and tone of her voice tell me she’s mighty angry. Oh well, it’s not the first time and it won’t be the last time either, but it’s not something I want to fight about with Chris and Viggo still here. Surprisingly, Chris comes to my aid. She leads Mary almost forcefully to the back garden, and Viggo takes the joint still dangling between my fingers.
When I look up I find Viggo’s eyes soft and understanding and for a moment I feel the urge to let it all out, but then I remember Lucy and I straighten up. I tell Viggo that Lucy and Blake will have to stop seeing each other. He mocks me, telling me Lucy won’t listen and will do as she pleases, but I am determined to set my rules for once and for all. She’ll be grateful for it later, I tell myself.
I remind Viggo that Lucy lives here under my roof, and I pay for everything she could possibly want, but he doesn’t seem to think I’ll be able to stop her. We’ll see about that. I’ll have a long talk with her tomorrow morning, I promise myself.
Viggo and Chris don’t stay very long after this, and I can’t blame them, because Mary isn’t able to hide her contempt for me, and undoubtedly for Viggo, as well. I am relieved when they finally go, but also kind of sorry. If things had been different, and Lucy wasn’t involved, then maybe Viggo and I could have been friends.
The people that come here on a regular basis, or we visit – suppers, parties – they are all really Mary’s friends. None of them is even remotely interested in football or in art for instance. I like art for itself, but for them it’s only an investment,
I always accepted that as the price to pay for having my daughter and a fairly nice lifestyle, but sometimes I feel lonely and long for the pubs and the beer filled evenings we had in my hometown, Sheffield.
The moment the door has closed behind our visitors, Mary turns to me. Her face is contorted with anger and she spits out her words.
“How dare you Sean Bean? Using drugs in my house!”
It has been a stressful evening, and I’ve had enough. Gabbing her arm I pull her close, not caring about the pained look on her face.
“Look here,” I say, “this is my house too and I will bloody well do whatever I feel like in it. As a matter of fact, I pay for all this pretentious shite, so it’s even more my house than yours. And tonight I don’t feel like sleeping in the same room as you do, so I’ll take one of the guest rooms. Goodnight! “
Leaving her stunned, I turn around and climb up the stairs. Fuck her!
The next morning, Sunday morning, Mary doesn’t speak a word to me, but wears the face of a martyr, when she hands me my breakfast. I try to start a conversation, because I am a bit ashamed of the way I behaved yesterday night, but she only answers in monosyllables, then she leaves for church.
Lucy comes down rather cheerful, and she lays her hand on my shoulder when she ruffles my hair with the other one. I love her so much it hurts, but as much as I long to give her everything she wants I know I am the adult here, and I need to protect her.
I smile at her, and grab her hand.
“I would like to have a word with you after breakfast, “I say.
Lucy nods reluctantly, and I recognize the stubborn set of her jaw. I’ve seen it in my mirror more than once, and I’ve seen my Dad look like that, and it makes me a bit apprehensive about what’s coming.
After breakfast we go and sit in the living room, and I try to talk a little sense into her head. Of course she doesn’t agree with me, and even though I really meant to stay calm I fail miserably. Unfortunately Mary and I both have a temper, and our daughter has certainly inherited it.
In the end we’re shouting until we’re both out of breath. Suddenly the room turns silent and we stare at each other. Her cheeks are flushed and she looks like she going to cry.
“I love him Dad, and I will not break up with him.”
“If you want to live here, you’ll have to.”
She looks me straight in the eye, her voice loud and calm.
“Then I guess I don’t live here anymore,” and with that she turns and leaves the room.
I slump down in my chair, and try to ignore the sounds coming from upstairs. A little while later she stands in the door, a small suitcase in her hand. I can see she’s been crying, but her eyes are dry now.
“Tell mum I will call her,” she says and then she’s gone.
She’ll be back, I tell myself.
Viggo
Back home, we meet the kids just about to leave with Bella on her leash. Blake is about to walk Lucy home. They look so happy and right, together that I feel a pang of regret. Chris and I were once like that.
They are so wrapped up in each other that they don’t even ask us how our evening went, much to my relief.
I follow Chris upstairs and help her to make up the spare bed. As we work, she asks me why I thought this was going to be for me.
Sighing, I look her in the eye.
“It’s not like I actually belong with you in our bed any more, is it? What is Paul doing this evening? It is Paul, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s Paul. How long have you known?”
“A while. I always know, Chris. You begin to detach yourself from me, just in case this time it’s for real and you’ll be wanting to leave.”
“Viggo, I do love you, you know that, right? It’s just that I don’t love you the same way…….”
“……you love Paul. I figured.”
“Look, this evening we were close. Why don’t you come to bed and we’ll talk in the morning. I do still care very much for you.”
She takes my hand and pulls me into our room, then kisses me and starts to work her hands under my tee shirt.
“Please don’t, Chris. We haven’t done this in months. I really don’t need a pity fuck.”
I push her away gently and lock myself into our en suite bathroom. I hear the door of the family bathroom slam and gather that she has gone in there, as Blake is not home yet.
Reluctant to come out, I use the toilet, then brush my teeth slowly, looking at myself in the mirror. The face that looks back at me is still that of a husband and father, but not for much longer. I don’t want to fight with Chris I am still fond of her and I respect her as the mother of our son. I feel sad that our marriage is coming to an end, but I know it is time. I don’t feel bitter.
I decide to have a shower, to prolong my time in here and as I strip off my clothes and step under the water, I find myself thinking about Sean. The surface of his smooth, family life is about to be shattered by one hell of a big rock, I think. I can’t believe that he is happy or fulfilled, living with that sour bitch. When he drops the pompous ass act, he’s quite vulnerable really. Not to mention hot.
Unsurprisingly, I find that thinking about Sean has made me hard and as my philosophy is never to waste an erection, I slide my soapy hand down my cock and close my eyes. This has been the only way I’ve had any satisfaction lately and as always, my masturbation fantasies are of men, not women. Maybe I shouldn’t have suppressed this side of my personality over all these years.
Now my fantasy has a face, with green eyes. I bite my hand as I come to stifle the cry.
When I get up the courage to poke my head out the door, Chris is apparently asleep on her side of the bed, her back turned to mine. I climb in on my side and lie as close to the edge as I can, but it takes an age before I can sleep.
In the morning, I wake very late and alone in the bed. When I arrive in the kitchen, I find Chris and Blake comforting a tearful Lucy. From the suitcase by the door, I gather than Chris was right and we have a houseguest.
Chris and I exchange a chaste morning kiss, then she picks up the case and takes Lucy upstairs to settle her in her room.
I smile at Blake and put my hand over his to show solidarity.
“Why does her dad have to be such a prick, Dad? He tried to blackmail her into dumping me. What right does he have?”
“Easy, son. He loves his daughter, just like you do. He thinks he’s protecting her.”
“But he’s wrong!”
“I know, I know. She can stay here as long as she needs to, but we need to call her parents and let them know she’s okay.”
Chris has come back into the kitchen and heard my last sentence.
“I’ll call her mom, as she thinks you are a dangerous drug fiend and a bad influence on Sean!”
Blake looks at me suspiciously.
“Dad, what did you do?”
I confess sheepishly, but add in my defence that Sean had already made his mind up that Lucy and Blake were a bad thing and prepared his speech and anyway, he was holding the spliff, when Mary caught us.
Blake rolls his eyes and mutters something about ‘so called responsible adults’, as he heads upstairs.
Chris comes back and says that Mary wasn’t there and she spoke to Sean. He was pretty angry that Lucy was here with us and practically accused us of abducting her. He is on his way round here, but Lucy says she doesn’t want to see him. I am to go out and intercept him.
I sigh and put on my shoes. What does she expect me to do? Rugby tackle him?
Sean
It’s about an hour and a half later when the phone rings. During that time I have just sat in my chair, feeling stunned by the events. I just can’t believe this has really happened, that she’s gone. Only the thought that she might call, and ask me to pick her up from wherever she went keeps me from taking a double scotch. I don’t fucking care if it’s only eleven in the morning.
I jump up to grab the phone – Mary hasn’t returned from church yet, thank God, I think wryly – and answer it, hoping to hear Lucy’s voice. But it’s Chris, and when she tells me Lucy is with them, that they will let her sleep in their spare room, I feel red hot anger creeping up my spine. They have my girl, and lord knows what those fucking hippies will do. They’ll probably encourage her to smoke pot or worse, and there’s probably no such thing as a spare room. Even if there is that Blake will talk his way into her bed, and …
I downright growl into the phone that I am coming over, coming to get her, and without waiting for Chris’s answer I throw down the phone
I am halfway there, when I see Viggo. He stops in front of me, his hands up in a pleading gesture, but I bat them away, and grab him by the throat. I want to hit, hurt him, kill him even, but somehow through the red haze I realize he’s holding me in a firm grip. I curse, unable to wrestle myself loose and get to him, until I am exhausted and give up.
I know I am strong, I’ve always been strong, and underneath the expensive suits, there’s a dirty street fighter, hiding most of the time, prominently there when I am furious though. But this man, Viggo, is equally strong and a reluctant respect for him dawns in me.
He must have noticed the fight is out of me, because he loosens his grip, but still holds me. My body relaxes against his, and for a moment I cling to him – and fuck, does that feel good – until I think of Lucy and let him go.
Viggo steps back cautiously, his eyes on mine.
“Let’s sit down and have a talk Sean,” he says. “There’s a pub on the other side of the street. Let’s go there and have a drink. “
There’s something to be said for that, so I just nod and follow him meekly to the pub. Luckily it’s not very busy this time of the day and we find an empty booth in the far corner. We both order beer - yes Mary’s going to bash me for that, but I am beyond caring – and we drink in silence for a while.
“You know, Sean, “he says, choosing his words carefully, “it’s been a while since I’ve been in a place like this, having a drink. It’s not like I have that many friends over here. It would be nice if we could be friends instead of fighting each other.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I reply, “you’ve got my daughter.”
Now he chuckles. “You make it sound like I have abducted her Sean. I know you don’t approve of our lifestyle, but we’ll take care of her, I promise. And maybe it’s better if you put a little distance between the two of you. It’s only healthy. I know she’s you’re only daughter and I know you’re worried, but nothing bad will happen to her. Chris and I will take care of her. Now let’s order another one of these disgusting beers and maybe I’ll even start appreciating it.”
I can’t help laughing about that, and we order another beer. Before too long we are talking about all kinds of stuff, and it’s not like I’ve forgotten Lucy, I am just beginning to believe Viggo’s not that bad.
In the middle of a conversation about David Bowie I suddenly ask him. “Is it true about Lucy having her own room with you?”
He looks me straight in the eye. “Yes Sean, she has her own room. But I can’t stop them from getting together, just like you couldn’t stop them when she was living with you. Come on Sean, as long as they are careful. I had sex for the first time when I was fifteen, how old were you?”
I stare at him when I try to think back, the implications of Lucy having sex forgotten for the moment.
“I think I was sixteen,” I say. “Fifteen? Who was she and how old was she?”
He smiles a coy smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“It was a he Sean, not a she, and he must have been about seventeen.”
Again I can only sit and stare, and then gulp down my beer; Mary will have my hide when I come home. Our daughter gone and me stinking of beer. But I can’t tear myself loose from the steady gaze of those blue eyes. Fuck!
Viggo
I literally run into Sean, halfway between our houses and his first reaction is to try and fight me.
He is a strong guy, but so am I, although I don’t necessarily look it. I don’t want to fight him and when he goes for me I simply grab him and hold on to him to stop him from killing me.
We struggle for a while, then I literally feel the fight go out of him and he slumps in my arms. I hold him for a while and then suggest we retire to the nearby pub to talk things over.
Choosing a quiet, corner booth, we get our beers and face each other. After a time, I suggest that we could become friends, but he quickly counters with the retort that I have his daughter.
I am sorry for him, but I have to laugh. He makes me sound like a people trafficker! She came to us, for fuck’s sake!
I try to reassure him that we will take good care of her and make a joke about the warm beer we are drinking. He laughs and that seems to break the ice. We get another beer and start to talk like regular people. We are the same age, give or take six months and it turns out we shared the same tastes in music and, I suspect, other things.
He abruptly asks me if it is true that Lucy has her own room at our house.
I tell him that it is, but point out that there’s no force on earth that can keep two horny teenagers apart, though I don’t put it quite as brutally as that.
It gives me the opening to ask him how old he was, when he lost his virginity and tell him about losing mine. He tells me he was around 16, so I was right that he wasn’t so prudish in his past and I would take a bet that my spliff wasn’t his first toke.
As for sexual preferences, I drop the bombshell that I didn’t lose my virginity to a girl at all.
He stares at me, like a rabbit in the headlights and takes a long pull at his beer. He is certainly not shocked, though, more fascinated, I would say and he certainly makes no move to leave.
“Yeah, Sean, I was into boys even before I was into girls and I swung both ways right until I married Chris. Fell in love regularly with members of both sexes. How about you?”
Sean blushes again. Shit, I love it when he does that! His tongue flicks our and moistens his dry lips. After a couple of false, stuttering starts, he gets up the courage to answer me.
“Well girls, of course at first, most of the time, really, but there was a time in my late teens, when I used to go to clubs and……..”
He downs the rest of his beer in one long swallow and says,
“You ready for another of these?”
I finish my beer and nod, watching him as he goes to the bar for refills.
He has a very attractive ass under those jeans and I feel a tightening in my own. I wonder what Blake will say if I tell him I fancy the pants off his prospective father in law, who already thinks we are a family of gypsies, tramps and thieves.
We start on the third beer in a pretty short time and it crosses my mind that we may both be in trouble, but with a mental shrug, I dismiss it. I am enjoying myself way too much.
“So, Sean, you were telling me about the clubs you used to go to?”
He takes a swallow and goes on, hesitantly at first, then more fluently, telling me how he did get involved in some interesting scenes and even admitting that he had several experiences with men.
Seems that he then got his place at the LSE in to study law, the first generation of his Northern, working class family to do so, he tells me proudly. His parents were so proud of him, that he determined work hard and do well. There was a hell of a lot of work anyway in his chosen subject and after he moved down to London, he kind of shelved his social life and just worked.
I start to understand more and more about him. He qualified as a solicitor, married the daughter of one of the senior partners and settled down to a life of conformity and basically boredom. He has his own law practice now, doing very well. He tails off and savagely gulps at his pint.
“And now I’m trapped in that fucking mausoleum to Mary’s “good taste”, with a pretentious woman I don’t have any feelings for any more except contempt. The only good thing in my life is my daughter and now I’ve lost her to your fucking son!”
I close my hand over his.
“Sean, you haven’t lost her. Lucy is a good kid and she loves you. She’s just taking some time out. Give her some space. Blake is a good kid too and he loves her dearly.”
A shadow falls over our table and a deep voice says,
“Hi Viggo, can I buy you a drink? Your friend too.”
“Yes, please. We’ll have both have a single malt. Talisker okay for you?”
Sean nods and looks at me questioningly as Paul heads for the bar.
“That, my friend is the guy, who is fucking my wife and who she’s going to leave me for!”
TBC
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Date: 2008-01-26 06:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-26 11:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 03:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 03:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 10:58 am (UTC)Viggo just needs to convince him of the fact!
I like the background information, setting the scene, and the revelations about the past - looking forward to seeing the future!
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Date: 2008-01-31 11:41 pm (UTC)Me too, hope you'll tell us. Great story, their conversation makes me giggle like mad. I love Sean's possesivness and Viggo's trying to understand his fasiled marriage and Sean's anger. They make such a cute couple.