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fellowshippers2003-01-05 12:04 am
ladymoonray.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2003-01-05 12:04 am
Fic: New Beginnings 1/? Sean B/Viggo PG this part
Title: New Beginnings 1/?
Author/Email: ladymoonray@yahoo.com
Pairing: Sean B/Viggo
Rating: PG this part.
Summary: What might have happened on New Year's Eve 2002
Feedback: Please
Disclaimer: I made it up
Archive rights: BTF only please
Author Notes: Welcome back Gloria, and happy birthday Brenda! Thanks
to Kate and Gloria for the beta.
New Beginnings
"There won't be so many fans at the stage door tonight" Samantha teased. "It's freezing cold, and they've better things to do than hang around waiting for you." She disappeared round the door with a whisk of her scarf.
Sean was not impressed. He didn't have anything better to do on New Year's Eve, so why should the "faithful" fans? Perhaps his appeal was finally waning. He hoped not; there were still seats left to sell for the play.
The rest of the cast had already left, and the doorman was probably getting impatient. Sean, blanketed in irritability, decided to take his time. He folded his towel carefully, and spent a few minutes tidying his cluttered dressing room. But hanging around a cold, draughty theatre wasn't going to improve his mood, so he gave in and headed for the door. "Goodnight sir" called Ken.
Sean didn't reply. It wasn't likely to be a good night at all.
There was only one person outside the stage door - that horrible man with the armful of programmes again. Sean ignored him and pushed past rudely, against his agent's advice. But she wasn't here to tell him off tonight - even she had something better to be doing.
Sean caught sight of his driver, put his head down and headed for the car. As he slipped inside, he was already talking to Mike. He was promising his driver they were going straight home, so there would be plenty of time for him to get to wherever he'd be celebrating. But Mike wasn't listening quietly like he usually did - he was trying to say something. Sean looked up sharply, and was stunned to see a figure in the passenger seat of the Mercedes.
He couldn't see the person clearly, it was too dark. Just for a second it crossed his mind to be worried, but then he remembered that his driver was rather more than just a chauffeur, and he'd never have opened the door for Sean if there was trouble. His mood slipped directly from panicked back to irritable.
"Who are you? And what are you doing in my car?"
"Contemplating new beginnings" was the rather cryptic answer, in a quiet voice with that strange-but-so-familiar accent. Viggo?
Sean felt his blanket of irritation lift, whisked away like Samantha's scarf. Which was weird really, because his relationship with Viggo wasn't really a relationship any more. He did feel a thrill of anticipation at the chance to work on it, though.
Viggo was talking to Mike, telling him to drive to his home and they'd take the car from there. Mike was protesting, but there's no arguing with Danish Americans when they're being all considerate. The car was headed south, towards Mike's house.
Sean didn't try talking to Viggo in front of his driver - it was bad enough talking to Viggo in front of himself. The result was a rather awkward silence.
It had been a while since they'd seen one another; even longer than that since they'd talked. And longer still since they'd touched. Regret haunted Sean frequently, but that was the way things had worked out. Both of them were too exhausted to fight it.
But Viggo was there, in his car, on a cold, windy New Year's Eve. And Sean's safety net was about to desert him. He briefly considered making an excuse, getting Mike to stay and drive them....wherever. But that wouldn't be fair, the man had family who wanted his company.
Sean thought about that one ruefully - all the splinters of his family were otherwise occupied at New Year.
The car pulled up outside a small, tidy house. Sean slid out of the back seat as Mike left, and took his place at the wheel, slamming the door hurriedly against the chill. He turned to Viggo.
"Where are we going, then?"
"Head south till we hit the coast. It shouldn't take long, there's no traffic."
Nothing else. No explanations, no greetings, no nothing. Typical Viggo - so inscrutable he should be Japanese.
"Are we going to do a midnight flit to France or something then?" Sean was joking badly because he was unsettled. No reply.
The blanket was back with a vengeance, and Sean was also driving badly. He wasn't used to the big Mercedes; it was much more responsive than his modest family car. Luckily the roads were quiet, and the miles went quickly.
Sean couldn't stand the silence, and switched on the radio. It was one of those dreadful countdown programmes, supposedly playing the top 100 songs of all time. It was close to midnight, and the countdown was in the top ten. Sean didn't really care what they listened to, but the thought of Robbie Williams so high in the chart made his brain ache. He pushed the button for the CD player instead.
Led Zeppelin. Mike's taste, not Sean's. He didn't usually listen to music in the car - he preferred to chat with his driver instead. But this was just going to have to do, as Sean had no idea how to work the car stereo.
He held out as long as possible, but in the end he had to turn and look at Viggo. The road was long and straight, so Sean was confident they'd both survive a brief glance.
When he looked, he was thoroughly surprised, and had to look away immediately to process what he'd seen. Viggo was staring at him. Odd, he hadn't felt it. It wasn't his usual inscrutable Japanese stare. It was a look of terrible sadness. It was too dark to see properly, but Sean was fairly sure there were tears somewhere near the surface.
Sean was shaken. Viggo might be an old hippy but he didn't cry easily. Sean had seen him on the highest of highs and some very low lows, and he'd never seen him look like this. He didn't know what to say, so he decided on keeping quiet.
But they'd almost reached the coast. What to do now?
Beach, he thought blurrily. Viggo likes beaches.
He turned the car east to head for one of the quiet beaches - the last thing they needed was to run into some insane New Years Eve beach party. He was finding it difficult to think clearly, but eventually he found a turning, and pulled in to a deserted car park.
"Walk with me." Viggo was already out of the car and striding towards the sea.
The wind took Sean's breath away as he stepped out. His suede jacket wasn't much protection against the searing cold. He hadn't really noticed Viggo's outfit, but it didn't look very substantial. They definitely should have talked in the car.
He ran to try to catch Viggo. It was difficult, running against the wind in unsuitable shoes, shivering and swearing under his breath. Sean slid down a steep dune, feeling his shoes fill up with tiny pebbles and groaning out loud. Luckily, his friend had stopped on the next ridge, staring at the sea. The moon was bright, silvering the waves intermittently with the scudding clouds.
Viggo must have heard Sean come up behind him, because he sank down and sat on the cold ground, sliding long legs down the slope. Sean couldn't do anything but copy him, and found it surprisingly comfortable (if very cold). They weren't touching, just sitting there, with Viggo watching the sea and Sean watching Viggo.
Sean was struck by how ridiculous this all was. Viggo had flown thousands of miles (presumably to see him) hadn't said anything about why, and now they were sitting on a beach in a freezing wind at midnight on New Year's Eve. It seemed he'd have to make the first move, whatever that was. He wriggled a bit, pushing his body closer.
"Want to stay with me for a while?"
Viggo turned, and trapped Sean with a darkened gaze. "Are you sure you want that?"
"God, yes." He wanted it so much it was making his head ache, but he couldn't find any better words.
Leaning forward, he touched his lips to Viggo's, waiting to see if there would be any response. Please, thought Sean. Forgive me. Forgive us, and let's try again. Why couldn't he say those things instead of just think them? Thank God, Viggo's lips were opening, asking him to communicate everything more simply.
They used to vie for dominance in kisses, but it was different this time. There was forgiveness, and hope, and a new gentleness. Wherever the passion had gone, it wasn't missed much.
Somehow they shuffled closer, wrapped around each other, without breaking the kiss. Sean was physically uncomfortable, cold, and would probably be ill tomorrow; but it was now so right he didn't care.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!
Sean's watch. Midnight.
Viggo pulled back a little, and smiled for the first time that night.
"Happy New Year."
tbc
Author/Email: ladymoonray@yahoo.com
Pairing: Sean B/Viggo
Rating: PG this part.
Summary: What might have happened on New Year's Eve 2002
Feedback: Please
Disclaimer: I made it up
Archive rights: BTF only please
Author Notes: Welcome back Gloria, and happy birthday Brenda! Thanks
to Kate and Gloria for the beta.
New Beginnings
"There won't be so many fans at the stage door tonight" Samantha teased. "It's freezing cold, and they've better things to do than hang around waiting for you." She disappeared round the door with a whisk of her scarf.
Sean was not impressed. He didn't have anything better to do on New Year's Eve, so why should the "faithful" fans? Perhaps his appeal was finally waning. He hoped not; there were still seats left to sell for the play.
The rest of the cast had already left, and the doorman was probably getting impatient. Sean, blanketed in irritability, decided to take his time. He folded his towel carefully, and spent a few minutes tidying his cluttered dressing room. But hanging around a cold, draughty theatre wasn't going to improve his mood, so he gave in and headed for the door. "Goodnight sir" called Ken.
Sean didn't reply. It wasn't likely to be a good night at all.
There was only one person outside the stage door - that horrible man with the armful of programmes again. Sean ignored him and pushed past rudely, against his agent's advice. But she wasn't here to tell him off tonight - even she had something better to be doing.
Sean caught sight of his driver, put his head down and headed for the car. As he slipped inside, he was already talking to Mike. He was promising his driver they were going straight home, so there would be plenty of time for him to get to wherever he'd be celebrating. But Mike wasn't listening quietly like he usually did - he was trying to say something. Sean looked up sharply, and was stunned to see a figure in the passenger seat of the Mercedes.
He couldn't see the person clearly, it was too dark. Just for a second it crossed his mind to be worried, but then he remembered that his driver was rather more than just a chauffeur, and he'd never have opened the door for Sean if there was trouble. His mood slipped directly from panicked back to irritable.
"Who are you? And what are you doing in my car?"
"Contemplating new beginnings" was the rather cryptic answer, in a quiet voice with that strange-but-so-familiar accent. Viggo?
Sean felt his blanket of irritation lift, whisked away like Samantha's scarf. Which was weird really, because his relationship with Viggo wasn't really a relationship any more. He did feel a thrill of anticipation at the chance to work on it, though.
Viggo was talking to Mike, telling him to drive to his home and they'd take the car from there. Mike was protesting, but there's no arguing with Danish Americans when they're being all considerate. The car was headed south, towards Mike's house.
Sean didn't try talking to Viggo in front of his driver - it was bad enough talking to Viggo in front of himself. The result was a rather awkward silence.
It had been a while since they'd seen one another; even longer than that since they'd talked. And longer still since they'd touched. Regret haunted Sean frequently, but that was the way things had worked out. Both of them were too exhausted to fight it.
But Viggo was there, in his car, on a cold, windy New Year's Eve. And Sean's safety net was about to desert him. He briefly considered making an excuse, getting Mike to stay and drive them....wherever. But that wouldn't be fair, the man had family who wanted his company.
Sean thought about that one ruefully - all the splinters of his family were otherwise occupied at New Year.
The car pulled up outside a small, tidy house. Sean slid out of the back seat as Mike left, and took his place at the wheel, slamming the door hurriedly against the chill. He turned to Viggo.
"Where are we going, then?"
"Head south till we hit the coast. It shouldn't take long, there's no traffic."
Nothing else. No explanations, no greetings, no nothing. Typical Viggo - so inscrutable he should be Japanese.
"Are we going to do a midnight flit to France or something then?" Sean was joking badly because he was unsettled. No reply.
The blanket was back with a vengeance, and Sean was also driving badly. He wasn't used to the big Mercedes; it was much more responsive than his modest family car. Luckily the roads were quiet, and the miles went quickly.
Sean couldn't stand the silence, and switched on the radio. It was one of those dreadful countdown programmes, supposedly playing the top 100 songs of all time. It was close to midnight, and the countdown was in the top ten. Sean didn't really care what they listened to, but the thought of Robbie Williams so high in the chart made his brain ache. He pushed the button for the CD player instead.
Led Zeppelin. Mike's taste, not Sean's. He didn't usually listen to music in the car - he preferred to chat with his driver instead. But this was just going to have to do, as Sean had no idea how to work the car stereo.
He held out as long as possible, but in the end he had to turn and look at Viggo. The road was long and straight, so Sean was confident they'd both survive a brief glance.
When he looked, he was thoroughly surprised, and had to look away immediately to process what he'd seen. Viggo was staring at him. Odd, he hadn't felt it. It wasn't his usual inscrutable Japanese stare. It was a look of terrible sadness. It was too dark to see properly, but Sean was fairly sure there were tears somewhere near the surface.
Sean was shaken. Viggo might be an old hippy but he didn't cry easily. Sean had seen him on the highest of highs and some very low lows, and he'd never seen him look like this. He didn't know what to say, so he decided on keeping quiet.
But they'd almost reached the coast. What to do now?
Beach, he thought blurrily. Viggo likes beaches.
He turned the car east to head for one of the quiet beaches - the last thing they needed was to run into some insane New Years Eve beach party. He was finding it difficult to think clearly, but eventually he found a turning, and pulled in to a deserted car park.
"Walk with me." Viggo was already out of the car and striding towards the sea.
The wind took Sean's breath away as he stepped out. His suede jacket wasn't much protection against the searing cold. He hadn't really noticed Viggo's outfit, but it didn't look very substantial. They definitely should have talked in the car.
He ran to try to catch Viggo. It was difficult, running against the wind in unsuitable shoes, shivering and swearing under his breath. Sean slid down a steep dune, feeling his shoes fill up with tiny pebbles and groaning out loud. Luckily, his friend had stopped on the next ridge, staring at the sea. The moon was bright, silvering the waves intermittently with the scudding clouds.
Viggo must have heard Sean come up behind him, because he sank down and sat on the cold ground, sliding long legs down the slope. Sean couldn't do anything but copy him, and found it surprisingly comfortable (if very cold). They weren't touching, just sitting there, with Viggo watching the sea and Sean watching Viggo.
Sean was struck by how ridiculous this all was. Viggo had flown thousands of miles (presumably to see him) hadn't said anything about why, and now they were sitting on a beach in a freezing wind at midnight on New Year's Eve. It seemed he'd have to make the first move, whatever that was. He wriggled a bit, pushing his body closer.
"Want to stay with me for a while?"
Viggo turned, and trapped Sean with a darkened gaze. "Are you sure you want that?"
"God, yes." He wanted it so much it was making his head ache, but he couldn't find any better words.
Leaning forward, he touched his lips to Viggo's, waiting to see if there would be any response. Please, thought Sean. Forgive me. Forgive us, and let's try again. Why couldn't he say those things instead of just think them? Thank God, Viggo's lips were opening, asking him to communicate everything more simply.
They used to vie for dominance in kisses, but it was different this time. There was forgiveness, and hope, and a new gentleness. Wherever the passion had gone, it wasn't missed much.
Somehow they shuffled closer, wrapped around each other, without breaking the kiss. Sean was physically uncomfortable, cold, and would probably be ill tomorrow; but it was now so right he didn't care.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!
Sean's watch. Midnight.
Viggo pulled back a little, and smiled for the first time that night.
"Happy New Year."
tbc
no subject
Re:
no subject
Thanks!
Re:
Thank you so much for liking it. Part II is under construction - hopefully I'll finish it soon.
*hugs*
no subject
That's beautiful! And so sad... and so beautiful... and... right. You know. I was almost in tears there, for a while. I'm really, really looking forward to part 2!
Re:
Part II is under construction, so hopefully I'll get it finished soon.
no subject
Loved it
I loved this so far...so bittersweet yet beautiful. I loved that it has a plot and it's not just sex.
I hope you'll continue soon and tell us the backstory.
Thanks for writing
Love
Nadja
Re: Loved it
Part 2 is nearly done, and has some backstory in it. It appears that there will be at least two more parts after that, so I expect it'll all come out at some point...
Thanks for liking it!
no subject
Must read the other parts soon.
Re: