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fellowshippers2003-12-24 09:05 pm
kohaku1977.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2003-12-24 09:05 pm
Christmas Fic V/S
Title: Men bearing gifts
Author: Kohaku1977
Pairing: Viggo/ Sean
Disclaimer: This is all fiction
Notes: Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kaydeefalls, who actually does remember doing a beta for this one, and to valentine1971 for all her patience and last minute spell check/ beta.
Written as a Christmas pressie forvalentine1971 in 2002. Have a Merry Christmas you all!
Men bearing gifts
He had looked at the camera and delivered his line. Who could blame him for thinking of Viggo? The mental image of him had come suddenly and made Sean smile. The director had given him a thumbs up, also smiling. After the take everyone had told him how wonderful it would be on screen. How splendid! Splendid indeed.
He had not felt the twinge in his heart until much later on, when he finally saw the spot on TV. He saw himself displaying a half grin, dangling a lovingly wrapped empty present for no one on his index finger. Its red wrapping glittered, but no one was ever going to accept it. Merry Christmas, he thought, feeling the slight pain again.
I'm getting old, sentimental, he told himself. Merry Christmas indeed.
He wanted to call him. He just lacked the time. Honestly. There was a play to attend. Presents to buy. Cards to send. He never found the time. At least not the right time. The highlight of the season crept nearer with each lost day. Walking through London, Sean sometimes stopped to look at some window display, wondering what Christmas would be like, if...
If only.
He wondered what Viggo's Christmas would be like. Whether it would be traditional or not. Whether there would be turkey, Christmas carols, stockings and mistletoe. Whether or not he should get Viggo a present.
He finally bought a stocking, just in case. Maybe he could buy a small present later on to fill it. He bought it while looking for something entirely different, it must have been a CD or something, yes, a CD, that sounded sensible. And while he was looking, he browsed through the Christmas decoration section. He had just lingered there for a moment, looking at the stars and Santas and twinkling lights, feeling a bit out of place as if he did not belong amongst such cheeriness while he brooded so much. And right there, amongst the glittering, glimmering, commercial cheeriness that was Christmas, his fingers touched something soft, so soft he had to look. It was a felt stocking, green and red with gold ribbon. He suddenly thought of Viggo. But then, hadn't he thought of him all along? He was not sure if the distinct feel of the material reminded him of something, maybe of something Viggo had worn or if it was purely coincidental. He looked at the stocking once more and its royal colours.
Sappy, he thought and went to the nearest cashier.
Five days before Christmas he looked at the phone again. His apartment looked bleak without any decoration. He just had not had the time - strength - for it yet. A single stocking lay on his coffee table. It reminded him of that present in the spot. Nice looking but empty, and no one there who might accept it.
Maybe it was time for action. Maybe now was the right time. He checked his watch. He picked up the receiver. Breathing in and out, he finally dialed. He typed the international access code for North America, then the state code. He listened to the dialing tone after each digit.
When suddenly his doorbell rang once, shrill in the quietness of his apartement apartment, he hung up immediately. He cursed himself under his much too quick breath, but stood up and went to his door nevertheless.
He jabbed at the intercom mercilessly.
"Yes," he inquired.
"Sean."
Oh God, it's...
"Sean, it's me. Can I come up? I know my timing is probably..."
Perfect?
"...rotten, but I just had to see you."
Trembling, he pushed the other button, listening to the hum of the door opener as he let Viggo in. He counted the seconds until there was that welcome knock on his door. He opened it.
And there he was.
"I wanted to call you," Sean said.
"I wanted to call you too. But then I realised that what I really wanted was to see you."
Sean nodded.
"Sean."
"Viggo."
Viggo laughed in reply and reached down to pick up the small bag that stood there. But then his hand sneaked into it and pulled something from it.
A present.
A small box wrapped in red paper, adorned by a golden ribbon. Sean pulled the other man into his arms, suddenly feeling very grateful.
Talk of the spirit of Christmas, he thought. There's really just one thing I don't want to miss this year.
Merry Christmas indeed.
***
Author: Kohaku1977
Pairing: Viggo/ Sean
Disclaimer: This is all fiction
Notes: Many thanks to
kaydeefalls, who actually does remember doing a beta for this one, and to valentine1971 for all her patience and last minute spell check/ beta. Written as a Christmas pressie for
valentine1971 in 2002. Have a Merry Christmas you all!Men bearing gifts
He had looked at the camera and delivered his line. Who could blame him for thinking of Viggo? The mental image of him had come suddenly and made Sean smile. The director had given him a thumbs up, also smiling. After the take everyone had told him how wonderful it would be on screen. How splendid! Splendid indeed.
He had not felt the twinge in his heart until much later on, when he finally saw the spot on TV. He saw himself displaying a half grin, dangling a lovingly wrapped empty present for no one on his index finger. Its red wrapping glittered, but no one was ever going to accept it. Merry Christmas, he thought, feeling the slight pain again.
I'm getting old, sentimental, he told himself. Merry Christmas indeed.
He wanted to call him. He just lacked the time. Honestly. There was a play to attend. Presents to buy. Cards to send. He never found the time. At least not the right time. The highlight of the season crept nearer with each lost day. Walking through London, Sean sometimes stopped to look at some window display, wondering what Christmas would be like, if...
If only.
He wondered what Viggo's Christmas would be like. Whether it would be traditional or not. Whether there would be turkey, Christmas carols, stockings and mistletoe. Whether or not he should get Viggo a present.
He finally bought a stocking, just in case. Maybe he could buy a small present later on to fill it. He bought it while looking for something entirely different, it must have been a CD or something, yes, a CD, that sounded sensible. And while he was looking, he browsed through the Christmas decoration section. He had just lingered there for a moment, looking at the stars and Santas and twinkling lights, feeling a bit out of place as if he did not belong amongst such cheeriness while he brooded so much. And right there, amongst the glittering, glimmering, commercial cheeriness that was Christmas, his fingers touched something soft, so soft he had to look. It was a felt stocking, green and red with gold ribbon. He suddenly thought of Viggo. But then, hadn't he thought of him all along? He was not sure if the distinct feel of the material reminded him of something, maybe of something Viggo had worn or if it was purely coincidental. He looked at the stocking once more and its royal colours.
Sappy, he thought and went to the nearest cashier.
Five days before Christmas he looked at the phone again. His apartment looked bleak without any decoration. He just had not had the time - strength - for it yet. A single stocking lay on his coffee table. It reminded him of that present in the spot. Nice looking but empty, and no one there who might accept it.
Maybe it was time for action. Maybe now was the right time. He checked his watch. He picked up the receiver. Breathing in and out, he finally dialed. He typed the international access code for North America, then the state code. He listened to the dialing tone after each digit.
When suddenly his doorbell rang once, shrill in the quietness of his apartement apartment, he hung up immediately. He cursed himself under his much too quick breath, but stood up and went to his door nevertheless.
He jabbed at the intercom mercilessly.
"Yes," he inquired.
"Sean."
Oh God, it's...
"Sean, it's me. Can I come up? I know my timing is probably..."
Perfect?
"...rotten, but I just had to see you."
Trembling, he pushed the other button, listening to the hum of the door opener as he let Viggo in. He counted the seconds until there was that welcome knock on his door. He opened it.
And there he was.
"I wanted to call you," Sean said.
"I wanted to call you too. But then I realised that what I really wanted was to see you."
Sean nodded.
"Sean."
"Viggo."
Viggo laughed in reply and reached down to pick up the small bag that stood there. But then his hand sneaked into it and pulled something from it.
A present.
A small box wrapped in red paper, adorned by a golden ribbon. Sean pulled the other man into his arms, suddenly feeling very grateful.
Talk of the spirit of Christmas, he thought. There's really just one thing I don't want to miss this year.
Merry Christmas indeed.
***
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Awwwww warm and fuzzy! Great!
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Thank you
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Thanks for reading!