'Fuck it all,' Sean thought. Fuck divorce lawyers, fuck gossip columnists, fuck his soon-to-be-ex-wife, and especially fuck himself for not being able to make it work. Again. Yeah, fuck it all.
Sean knew he should just drive back to his place and go to sleep, but he couldn't. He couldn't spend countless hours on a flight from London to Wellington wallowing in anger and self-pity and then go to an empty house with nothing but alcohol to comfort him. Not tonight.
Before he left, when he had been really upset and a major bitch during a bad day of filming, he remembered Viggo taking him aside and saying, "you know, I've been through this shit, too. If you ever need anything, my door is always open." That seemed like a nice prospect right now. Or a dangerous one, seeing as being around Viggo always made him afraid that he'd reveal how he felt about his friend. You would think that after three failed marriages, he'd be disabused of any notions of romance and love, but that wasn't the case.
However the fear of losing control with respect to romance and love around Viggo was nothing compared to the misery that awaited him if he spent the night laying awake in bed with no one beside him. He couldn't fucking stand it. He pulled up in front of Viggo's small house and took a deep breath before sprinting across the lawn and pounding on the front door. "Viggo?" he called. "C'mon, open up."
Viggo opened the door wearing sweatpants, a tee-shirt, and a sleepy expression. He looked utterly beautiful to Sean. Shit, couldn't he keep his feelings under control for thirty seconds? "Sean, what are you doing here?" Viggo asked.
"Did I wake you?"
"Um, yeah. It's two in the morning, which is usually when I'm asleep." But Viggo's tone of voice was friendly, and a smile broke across his face. "Come on in."
"I'm sorry, Vig," Sean apologized as he sat down on the couch.
"Don't worry about it. So can I assume London didn't go well?"
"It was hell. And divorce lawyers are Satan's minions."
Viggo's chuckle was somehow reassuring to Sean. "No argument here. Is Abby being difficult?"
"Nah, she's being good, but once those sharks get involved everything turns ugly."
"Need a place to crash?"
"Do you mind? I just don't feel like being alone tonight."
"Of course I don't mind. Like I told you, my door is always open."
"Thanks."
*****
Sean looked at the neon numbers of the bedside clock. 3:58 a.m. They had to get up in an hour, and he knew he wasn't going to get a wink of sleep tonight. Peter would be pissed, but Sean couldn't care less. All he could think about was the divorce, and the desire that Viggo had inadvertently unleashed in him. Those loose sweatpants had exposed the smallest sliver of flesh on his stomach, and Sean had to fight the urge to reach out and kiss the warm skin. Fuck, what was wrong with him? Having feelings like this for his mate was *not* a good idea.
Not that his emotions were listening to him. It was hopeless. He decided the best course of action was to go into Viggo's room and look at him sleeping. To Sean's lust-fogged brain it made perfect sense – he'd see Viggo snoring or drooling, and all thoughts of kissing his friend senseless would disappear.
Unfortunately, Sean wasn't counting on the fact that Viggo neither snored nor drooled. He looked insanely alluring lying on his back, his face a study in serenity. This wasn't exactly helping to remedy Sean's situation. In fact, it only increased his need to be close to the other man. Moving on pure instinct, he crept over to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, relieved beyond words that Viggo didn't stir. He reached a finger out and traced the outline of his friend's lips, then those prominent cheekbones.
When Viggo's eyes fluttered open, Sean's heart leapt into his throat. "Sean?" Viggo rasped, his voice huskier than Sean had ever heard it.
"I didn't mean to wake you."
"Then why are you touching my face in the middle of the night?"
Viggo sounded amused.
"I just . . . I'll leave."
"You don't need to."
Sean frowned. "I don't?"
"Like I said, the door is always open. What do you need?"
"To not be alone." His heart was in his throat as he looked at his friend, hoping that Viggo wouldn't misunderstand him. He really didn't want to have sex with Viggo – well, not tonight anyway – but just to be held. Sean bloody Bean, a bloke's bloke if ever there was one, just needed to be held. And suddenly Hell froze over.
"Come here," Viggo said softly. He pulled back the blankets so Sean could join him in the warmth of the bed. The pillows smelled like Viggo, and Sean resisted the urge to snuggle up to them and inhale deeply.
Arms slid around Sean's waist, and he started, amazed that Viggo knew what he needed. Although he realized that maybe it wasn't so surprising. After all, Viggo was one of those people who had that unnerving ability to offer comfort without being told that it was needed. Sean looked at Viggo, his handsome features highlighted in the moonlight, and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Thank you." Then, gathering up his courage, he brushed his lips against the other man's for a soft and extremely chaste kiss.
"You don't need to thank me." The second kiss wasn't quite so chaste, but it still was slow and soft. There was no need for a frantic tongue-wrestling session tonight.
"Viggo, you're not doing this because you feel sorry for me, are you?" Sean asked nervously. "Because if this is just pity–"
"It's not pity, Sean. And it's not some twisted form of therapy, either," Viggo chuckled. "It's because I care about you, and because I know I could easily fall in love with you. I'm not quite there yet, but I'll get there soon if you keep kissing me." Sean smiled and kissed Viggo again. "And you're not doing this because you just need a warm body tonight." It was a statement, not a question.
"I wouldn't do that to you. And I could very easily fall in love with you. I'm halfway there already. Look, I know my track record is awful, but still–"
"Sean?"
"Hmm?"
"Just kiss me and stop worrying."
*****
A few hours later, the cast and crew are resting on the water's edge, waiting for the next take of the boating scenes. It's difficult for Viggo to conjure up the wonder Aragorn is supposed to feel from viewing the Argonath, and he's muttering to himself with frustration.
"Doing okay?" Sean asks as he sits down next to Viggo.
"Fine. Just trying to find Aragorn's emotional state."
Sean laughs, but it's not condescending. "I think if I really concentrated too hard on Boromir's emotional state I'd become psychotic. It says something about you as an actor that you stay sane throughout all this." At Viggo's raised eyebrows, he laughs again. "Alright, relatively sane."
A few moments of silence pass before Viggo turns to Sean. "You doing okay?"
"Much better. It's strange – I didn't sleep a wink last night but I feel completely rested."
Viggo smiles and gently laces their fingers together. "I'm glad."
The intimacy makes Sean smile in return. "So, could I come over again tonight? I don't need to be comforted, but I would like to just, well, just *be*."
"I think we could just be," Viggo tells him. "Besides, you remember what I told you."
"Yeah, I do. Your door is always open."
"Always," Viggo says.
As Peter gathers his actors together for the next take, Sean realizes
that maybe love is worth another shot. And when he catches Viggo
smiling at him as they get into the boats, he realizes that he's ready
to make it work this time.
