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Title: The Third Light
Author:
mooms
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: None
Beta:
govi20
Request: Genres - fluff, angst, drama - I like men tears; prompt(s) or general mood(s) - tears, trust
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It's make believe and completely untrue. Summary: Viggo wants to trust again, in spite of bitter experience
It had taken a long time for Viggo to trust Sean enough to open up his heart.
He had decided long ago that to avoid pain, it was better to keep it protected and safe, but like a caged bird, it had often beaten against the bars with a desperate longing to be free and soar. Sometimes he'd had to give it freedom and every time, it had flown too high and come crashing down to earth, a sorry bundle of bloody feathers. Every time he had nursed it back to health and poured out his soul in poems so revealing that it was as if his skin and flesh had been peeled back, layer by layer to his very core. His bird never seemed to learn, though, always yearning for that special soul mate he'd never been able to find.
Then he had taken a huge leap of faith and flown to New Zealand on a gut feeling and the encouragement of an 11 year old boy, whom he trusted and who believed in him. It had been the right decision, because the character of Aragorn had fit him as well as the scruffy Ranger's costume, because he'd had the opportunity to forge bonds of friendship that would last forever and because meeting Sean had lit up his life.
From the first moment he had grasped the firm handshake and been enveloped in the warmth of Sean's personality, he had been seduced by the man's sheer physical grace and beauty, his charming shyness and self-deprecation, albeit masking a will of steel, his ready laughter and sexual magnetism. Sean didn't need expensive colognes and oils; he always smelled fresh and clean, but had his own inimitable scent to which both females and males responded.
They had gravitated together immediately and become friends. Sean rationalized it by saying that they had a lot in common, being of an age, both having children they adored and both having suffered the agonies of divorce. They also shared a mutual love of smoking, beer and football and spent most of the precious few free hours together in happy companionship.
Viggo's bird had fluttered desperately, aware from the first moment of the strong physical attraction. He had suppressed it gently, but very firmly, because Sean was currently going through a messy divorce back home and certainly didn't need any complications. Viggo accepted that his role was as friend and confidant and he had long resigned himself to the manly hugs of greeting, patted shoulders of encouragement and occasional drunken arms flung around each other, never daring to hope for more intimate contact.
One night, when Sean had been home to England and returned, grey with fatigue and the stress of flying, Viggo had met him from the airport, taken him home and been afforded the privilege of holding Sean in his arms, while he sobbed out his grief, disappointment, guilt and sense of failure. His soothing words and gentle stroking had led to mutual arousal and he had let Sean take him to bed that night for the first time.
It had been a revelation to them both. Not usually passive, Viggo had let Sean take the lead, instinctively feeling that it was what he needed to reassert his masculinity. Sean had been forceful, even angry and Viggo had opened himself and accepted it all, his tiny bird exulting in the pain. Later, after they had both slept, Sean had been horrified by the bruises he'd inflicted and had kissed them all better, washing Viggo's body with more tears.
Viggo had spoken softly as if he were gentling a horse and told Sean that it was okay. Everything was okay. The next time they had made love it had been with care and tenderness and by next morning, their relationship had become something much more than friendship.
They had been so happy then in the little cocoon that was the set of the movie and had been inseparable until Sean's part in the shooting was over and he'd had to leave. They had both been pragmatic about it. Both were actors and travelled all over the world. It would not be possible for them to be together all the time, and as they were red-blooded men, it was agreed that they would not try to remain exclusive, but they had promised to get together whenever possible and they had also promised that any relationships would be strictly casual.
As Viggo had waved Sean off, he had known that for himself, there would only ever be Sean. He had always tended toward the intense and he really didn't do casual, but he knew what temptations Sean would be subjected to and he didn't really mind, so long as he didn't have to see Sean with somebody else. One thing he was absolutely sure of was that there would be no more wives.
"Never, ever again, Viggo," Sean had assured him resolutely and he trusted that Sean meant every word.
Viggo had been lying in a happy, dazed, post coital stupor, in yet another hotel room, when Sean had brought up the fact that he was to marry for a fourth time. At first he couldn't take it in and then he felt as if an abyss were opening before him. They had fought about it, with Viggo shedding bitter tears.
"You said, 'never ever again', Sean. You said that a man would be a fool to keep on getting burned and that you were clearly not husband material. You promised you wouldn't get serious with anybody else."
"I know, I know, Viggo and I meant every word. I just started seeing her a bit and somehow we just clicked. She's been good to me and for me and now she wants this and I don't feel that I can refuse her."
"But what about me. What about us? You know that I love you and I've never been unfaithful to you."
Sean shifted uncomfortably.
"I never told you that I loved you, you know. I do, as a mate, a dear friend, of course I do, but this is different, isn't it? We never promised we'd be exclusive did we? It's not even like we've been able to get together much over the years. I were always looking for something more...substantial. I suppose that's why I keep getting married."
Viggo shook his head,"Substantial? So this was never real to you?"
"Well, not really solid, you know, not like me Mam and Dad. It's not as if we can even be in public as a couple, is it? If we were a couple, that is."
Noting the clenched fists and face drained of colour, Sean saw that Viggo's grief was turning to anger and the last thing he wanted was a fist fight with his friend.
He jumped hurriedly out of bed and started pulling on discarded clothes. Once dressed and heading for the door, he turned to Viggo, still shaking on the bed, "Look, call me, mate. Okay?"
Viggo could only shout, "No" at the retreating back, before he threw himself back onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow. He would never, ever trust Sean again and he wouldn't call.
Over the next two years, Viggo threw himself into work and constant travel, keeping himself busy so that he didn't have to think. His name was linked with a couple of women, who were actually good friends, but certainly not lovers. He chose not to comment and let the Spanish magazines and internet blogs speculate. The truth was that he didn't want anybody else but Sean and inside the firmly latched cage, the little bird pined and ruffled its feathers.
He was flattered to be told that he was to receive an Empire Award in London and astonishingly, his busy schedule coincided with the ceremony. When he was told who would be presenting the award, his stomach turned over, but he gathered and told himself that he was a mature man and would be able to meet his old friend and ex-lover with equanimity.
His resolve almost dissolved when he first set eyes on Sean, all dressed up in a smart suit, his beautiful wife on his arm. Sean was genuinely delighted to see him, though, that was clear and he managed to bow gracefully, when introduced and compliment her dress. He was finding this more of an ordeal than he'd anticipated and he started hitting the sponsor's product heavily, so that by the time he was up for his acceptance speech, he was well and truly pickled.
Laughing helplessly, but affectionately, Sean had practically dragged him off the stage.
"God, I've missed you, you daft bugger."
He'd let Sean manhandle him into the cab and give directions to his hotel. Once up in his room, Sean had pushed him against the door and kissed him hard. Part of him had wanted to resist, but the part of him that didn't won out.
"What's this, Sean? A fuck for old time's sake?" He tried to make the words harsh, but the slurring spoiled the effect a little.
"No, mate, I want to make love to you."
There was really no answer to that and he submitted gladly, as the little bird flew triumphantly around the room.
When he awoke later, his mouth feeling like the bottom of the birdcage, he was frankly surprised to find Sean still there, holding him.
"What are you doing here," he managed to croak." Won't you be missed?"
Sean handed him a bottle of water and brushed his hair back from a sweat-beaded brow.
"To tell you the truth, Viggo, it's not really working out. We're living separately. She's gone home to her mother. Tonight, we were just presenting a front for the public, like."
Viggo swallowed hard and scanned Sean's face, "So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I'm a total fool. I'm saying that I made another mistake and that I should never have let you down. I'm saying that I want you to forgive me and give me a second chance."
"Is that all you are saying?"
"I am saying that ...I love you. Okay, you git. You made me say it."
Looking into Sean's green eyes, Viggo asked himself whether he could trust Sean a second time. Seeing the sheen of tears, he knew that he could. He threw his arms around his lover and only the ornate ceiling prevented the little bird from flying up into the sky.
This time, they vowed it would be different. In spite of their schedules and the fact that they were rarely on the same continent at the same time, let alone in the same country, they made a supreme effort to see each other as often as possible. One day, they agreed, they would pick a place and finally settle down together, but for now, neither was ready to give up work.
The little bird sang and grew and Viggo stroked it with the back of a finger, knowing he had been right to trust. It even felt safe to leave the cage open. When they couldn't be together, they kept in constant touch, by text and phone and it worked brilliantly until Viggo's keen ears noticed a new hesitancy in Sean's voice and he thought he detected a certain evasion, even shiftiness in his manner. One day, he almost asked Sean outright what was the matter, but he knew that they had a scheduled meeting in a hotel in a couple of weeks, so he bit his tongue and fretted.
They greeted each other as warmly as ever and the sex was urgent as always, but afterwards, Sean withdrew physically, wandering over to the window to light an illicit cigarette. Viggo felt the mental withdrawal too.
"So tell me." Sean drew on the cigarette and sighed deeply.
"Viggo, you know I love you and I made a commitment, but I'd made one to her already and she wants to try again."
Viggo stared at him in disbelief, "You're telling me that you are going back to your wife?"
"She called me a couple of months ago. She was really reasonable and we talked properly, the way we couldn't while we were married and fighting all the time. I realized that I had expected her to make all the concessions and adjustments and I'd not been fair, Viggo. I also realized that drink had always triggered the arguments. We've been meeting and she really wants to give it another shot."
"And that's what you want too?"
"She is my wife. I just want to try and get one marriage right. It's always been me that was at fault. She put up with a lot. They all did to tell you the truth. I just think I owe her this."
Viggo, not usually lost for words didn't say a thing. After all, there was nothing to say. After Sean had left, he cried himself out and mentally picked up the soggy, feeble body of the little bird putting it gently back into the cage and swearing that he would lock the door once and for all and throw away the key.
He deleted Sean's number from his phone and his email address from his address book. When he spoke to friends from The Rings cast, he never mentioned Sean and never picked up on any of their comments about him. Orlando and Dominic had both tried a little fishing, but when he resolutely refused to bite, they backed off. Others were more discreet and for Viggo, Sean had become 'he who shall not be named'. In private, though, his heart ached and he grieved the loss.
It was two more years before Sean tried to get back in touch with him. He froze, when he played back his messages one evening and heard that voice, which still managed to send a thrill down his back.
"Viggo....We need to talk. Please call me. You have my number."
*Oh yeah, I have your number, Sean.* But of course, he didn't have Sean's actual number any longer and he'd deliberately wiped it from his brain. He paced up and down asking himself whether he really wanted to get back in touch. What could Sean possibly have to say to him? 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me!' He had trusted twice and twice his trust had been shattered. Surely Sean could not be expecting him to fall for it again?
Sean left more messages, each one becoming more desperate, until finally, he said with an exhausted resignation,
"Viggo, love, please, please call. This is the last message I'll leave. In case you don't have the number, it's...."
Viggo scrabbled for a Sharpie and wrote it on his hand. He stood staring at the black digits. Sean had called him 'love'. He knew that it was a common form of address where Sean came from, but Sean had once told him he loved him and he still surely loved Sean. The bird fluttered and he could feel it in his chest. Convinced that he was probably doing a very stupid thing, he keyed the number into his phone and waited.
"Hello."
Viggo's hand shook and his eyes filled up with tears again. Choked, he was unable to speak.
"Viggo? Oh God, it is you. Please say something. Anything."
He tried to keep his voice calm and level.
"Sean? How are you doing?"
An answering sob startled him and his heart contracted.
"Sean?"
"Viggo, I am such a fucking idiot. I need to see you."
His heart was trying to break through his rib cage, but still he kept his voice even.
"I don't think that would be a very good idea, Sean. What's done is done."
"No, it was never done. Please meet me. I know you are home in LA and I'm there too."
"With your wife?"
"No."
"But you are still married?"
Sean muttered something unintelligible.
"I'm sorry?"
"We're getting a divorce."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Please meet me and let me have my say, then if you never want to see me again, I'll understand."
"Okay. You want to come over or meet on neutral ground?"
"Can I come over?"
"Okay, but Sean, just to talk, okay? I'm not going to go to bed with you."
After a moment of silence, there was a muffled, "Okay."
Viggo attempted a tidy-up in his chaotic house, partly because it had always been something Sean had teased him about when... and partly to try and keep from thinking too much. An hour later, he could see the floor and a couple of couches and Sean was ringing the doorbell.
He counted to ten slowly, took a deep breath and went to the door. He was a little taken aback by how pale and drawn Sean looked, but accepted the proffered bottle of Jameson's with thanks. For a moment, he thought Sean was going to hug him, but he stepped back quickly *not this time, buster* and gestured Sean inside.
He got a couple of glasses and poured them both drinks, then sat cross legged on one couch, tucking his bare feet underneath him and nodding to Sean to take the other couch.
"Sean, you wanted to talk, so talk."
"I'm so sorry that I hurt you, betrayed you even. Mam and Dad have always had the perfect marriage, the rock that kept our family grounded. I grew up thinking that was how it should be. I thought I'd be able to find it if I followed their example. It was all I ever wanted."
Viggo tried to harden his heart, but Sean sounded so defeated. He longed to go over and put an arm around the slumped shoulders.
"I understand that you were trying to have what they have, Sean, believe me, I do. But I trusted you and had my heart shredded twice. I love you and always will, but I can't do this again."
"I know that I've no right to ask it of you, but I swear that I never stopped loving you. I'd got my ideas all twisted. I was fixed on trying to find the perfect soul mate and I'd already found you, only I was too fucking stupid to see it."
"So what are you asking of me now?"
Sean moved across to Viggo's couch and sank down on his knees in front of him.
"I want us to be together, properly, Viggo. I want you to give me another chance and we'll come out and live together openly, even go and get married somewhere where it's legal."
"You would be willing to do that, even if it killed your career?"
"Yes, I should have done it years ago. I already told you that I'm a fool."
"You must think I'm a fool too, if you're asking me to trust you for a third time. Why would I believe anything you say?"
"Please, Viggo. I swear I'll make it up to you." He grinned sheepishly, "Anyway, don't they say third time lucky? Take a chance, Viggo. I promise you won't regret it."
The physical and emotional yearnings were almost too much to bear. "Three times isn't always lucky, Sean. You know what they used to say in the trenches about not taking the third light from a match?"
"Oh, yeah. The sniper spots the first light, takes aim on the second and shoots the poor bastard who gets the third light."
"Well that would be me, Sean. If,...and I say if...I trusted you a third time and you let me down, it'd destroy me as surely as a sniper's bullet through the brain."
"You won't regret it. Please."
Viggo hesitated. He could see that Sean was longing to touch him and must be sorely tempted to try and seduce him into agreeing. Sean's whole body was trembling with emotion and the evident effort not to reach out. That was the final clincher for him. It would have been so easy for Sean to try that strategy, which had never failed before and he respected him for it.
He reached out and pulled Sean up into his lap, the little bird bursting forth again and soaring.
"Okay. Life is short and there's never been anybody else but you since you. I guess I'm taking the third light."
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: None
Beta:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Request: Genres - fluff, angst, drama - I like men tears; prompt(s) or general mood(s) - tears, trust
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It's make believe and completely untrue. Summary: Viggo wants to trust again, in spite of bitter experience
It had taken a long time for Viggo to trust Sean enough to open up his heart.
He had decided long ago that to avoid pain, it was better to keep it protected and safe, but like a caged bird, it had often beaten against the bars with a desperate longing to be free and soar. Sometimes he'd had to give it freedom and every time, it had flown too high and come crashing down to earth, a sorry bundle of bloody feathers. Every time he had nursed it back to health and poured out his soul in poems so revealing that it was as if his skin and flesh had been peeled back, layer by layer to his very core. His bird never seemed to learn, though, always yearning for that special soul mate he'd never been able to find.
Then he had taken a huge leap of faith and flown to New Zealand on a gut feeling and the encouragement of an 11 year old boy, whom he trusted and who believed in him. It had been the right decision, because the character of Aragorn had fit him as well as the scruffy Ranger's costume, because he'd had the opportunity to forge bonds of friendship that would last forever and because meeting Sean had lit up his life.
From the first moment he had grasped the firm handshake and been enveloped in the warmth of Sean's personality, he had been seduced by the man's sheer physical grace and beauty, his charming shyness and self-deprecation, albeit masking a will of steel, his ready laughter and sexual magnetism. Sean didn't need expensive colognes and oils; he always smelled fresh and clean, but had his own inimitable scent to which both females and males responded.
They had gravitated together immediately and become friends. Sean rationalized it by saying that they had a lot in common, being of an age, both having children they adored and both having suffered the agonies of divorce. They also shared a mutual love of smoking, beer and football and spent most of the precious few free hours together in happy companionship.
Viggo's bird had fluttered desperately, aware from the first moment of the strong physical attraction. He had suppressed it gently, but very firmly, because Sean was currently going through a messy divorce back home and certainly didn't need any complications. Viggo accepted that his role was as friend and confidant and he had long resigned himself to the manly hugs of greeting, patted shoulders of encouragement and occasional drunken arms flung around each other, never daring to hope for more intimate contact.
One night, when Sean had been home to England and returned, grey with fatigue and the stress of flying, Viggo had met him from the airport, taken him home and been afforded the privilege of holding Sean in his arms, while he sobbed out his grief, disappointment, guilt and sense of failure. His soothing words and gentle stroking had led to mutual arousal and he had let Sean take him to bed that night for the first time.
It had been a revelation to them both. Not usually passive, Viggo had let Sean take the lead, instinctively feeling that it was what he needed to reassert his masculinity. Sean had been forceful, even angry and Viggo had opened himself and accepted it all, his tiny bird exulting in the pain. Later, after they had both slept, Sean had been horrified by the bruises he'd inflicted and had kissed them all better, washing Viggo's body with more tears.
Viggo had spoken softly as if he were gentling a horse and told Sean that it was okay. Everything was okay. The next time they had made love it had been with care and tenderness and by next morning, their relationship had become something much more than friendship.
They had been so happy then in the little cocoon that was the set of the movie and had been inseparable until Sean's part in the shooting was over and he'd had to leave. They had both been pragmatic about it. Both were actors and travelled all over the world. It would not be possible for them to be together all the time, and as they were red-blooded men, it was agreed that they would not try to remain exclusive, but they had promised to get together whenever possible and they had also promised that any relationships would be strictly casual.
As Viggo had waved Sean off, he had known that for himself, there would only ever be Sean. He had always tended toward the intense and he really didn't do casual, but he knew what temptations Sean would be subjected to and he didn't really mind, so long as he didn't have to see Sean with somebody else. One thing he was absolutely sure of was that there would be no more wives.
"Never, ever again, Viggo," Sean had assured him resolutely and he trusted that Sean meant every word.
Viggo had been lying in a happy, dazed, post coital stupor, in yet another hotel room, when Sean had brought up the fact that he was to marry for a fourth time. At first he couldn't take it in and then he felt as if an abyss were opening before him. They had fought about it, with Viggo shedding bitter tears.
"You said, 'never ever again', Sean. You said that a man would be a fool to keep on getting burned and that you were clearly not husband material. You promised you wouldn't get serious with anybody else."
"I know, I know, Viggo and I meant every word. I just started seeing her a bit and somehow we just clicked. She's been good to me and for me and now she wants this and I don't feel that I can refuse her."
"But what about me. What about us? You know that I love you and I've never been unfaithful to you."
Sean shifted uncomfortably.
"I never told you that I loved you, you know. I do, as a mate, a dear friend, of course I do, but this is different, isn't it? We never promised we'd be exclusive did we? It's not even like we've been able to get together much over the years. I were always looking for something more...substantial. I suppose that's why I keep getting married."
Viggo shook his head,"Substantial? So this was never real to you?"
"Well, not really solid, you know, not like me Mam and Dad. It's not as if we can even be in public as a couple, is it? If we were a couple, that is."
Noting the clenched fists and face drained of colour, Sean saw that Viggo's grief was turning to anger and the last thing he wanted was a fist fight with his friend.
He jumped hurriedly out of bed and started pulling on discarded clothes. Once dressed and heading for the door, he turned to Viggo, still shaking on the bed, "Look, call me, mate. Okay?"
Viggo could only shout, "No" at the retreating back, before he threw himself back onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow. He would never, ever trust Sean again and he wouldn't call.
Over the next two years, Viggo threw himself into work and constant travel, keeping himself busy so that he didn't have to think. His name was linked with a couple of women, who were actually good friends, but certainly not lovers. He chose not to comment and let the Spanish magazines and internet blogs speculate. The truth was that he didn't want anybody else but Sean and inside the firmly latched cage, the little bird pined and ruffled its feathers.
He was flattered to be told that he was to receive an Empire Award in London and astonishingly, his busy schedule coincided with the ceremony. When he was told who would be presenting the award, his stomach turned over, but he gathered and told himself that he was a mature man and would be able to meet his old friend and ex-lover with equanimity.
His resolve almost dissolved when he first set eyes on Sean, all dressed up in a smart suit, his beautiful wife on his arm. Sean was genuinely delighted to see him, though, that was clear and he managed to bow gracefully, when introduced and compliment her dress. He was finding this more of an ordeal than he'd anticipated and he started hitting the sponsor's product heavily, so that by the time he was up for his acceptance speech, he was well and truly pickled.
Laughing helplessly, but affectionately, Sean had practically dragged him off the stage.
"God, I've missed you, you daft bugger."
He'd let Sean manhandle him into the cab and give directions to his hotel. Once up in his room, Sean had pushed him against the door and kissed him hard. Part of him had wanted to resist, but the part of him that didn't won out.
"What's this, Sean? A fuck for old time's sake?" He tried to make the words harsh, but the slurring spoiled the effect a little.
"No, mate, I want to make love to you."
There was really no answer to that and he submitted gladly, as the little bird flew triumphantly around the room.
When he awoke later, his mouth feeling like the bottom of the birdcage, he was frankly surprised to find Sean still there, holding him.
"What are you doing here," he managed to croak." Won't you be missed?"
Sean handed him a bottle of water and brushed his hair back from a sweat-beaded brow.
"To tell you the truth, Viggo, it's not really working out. We're living separately. She's gone home to her mother. Tonight, we were just presenting a front for the public, like."
Viggo swallowed hard and scanned Sean's face, "So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I'm a total fool. I'm saying that I made another mistake and that I should never have let you down. I'm saying that I want you to forgive me and give me a second chance."
"Is that all you are saying?"
"I am saying that ...I love you. Okay, you git. You made me say it."
Looking into Sean's green eyes, Viggo asked himself whether he could trust Sean a second time. Seeing the sheen of tears, he knew that he could. He threw his arms around his lover and only the ornate ceiling prevented the little bird from flying up into the sky.
This time, they vowed it would be different. In spite of their schedules and the fact that they were rarely on the same continent at the same time, let alone in the same country, they made a supreme effort to see each other as often as possible. One day, they agreed, they would pick a place and finally settle down together, but for now, neither was ready to give up work.
The little bird sang and grew and Viggo stroked it with the back of a finger, knowing he had been right to trust. It even felt safe to leave the cage open. When they couldn't be together, they kept in constant touch, by text and phone and it worked brilliantly until Viggo's keen ears noticed a new hesitancy in Sean's voice and he thought he detected a certain evasion, even shiftiness in his manner. One day, he almost asked Sean outright what was the matter, but he knew that they had a scheduled meeting in a hotel in a couple of weeks, so he bit his tongue and fretted.
They greeted each other as warmly as ever and the sex was urgent as always, but afterwards, Sean withdrew physically, wandering over to the window to light an illicit cigarette. Viggo felt the mental withdrawal too.
"So tell me." Sean drew on the cigarette and sighed deeply.
"Viggo, you know I love you and I made a commitment, but I'd made one to her already and she wants to try again."
Viggo stared at him in disbelief, "You're telling me that you are going back to your wife?"
"She called me a couple of months ago. She was really reasonable and we talked properly, the way we couldn't while we were married and fighting all the time. I realized that I had expected her to make all the concessions and adjustments and I'd not been fair, Viggo. I also realized that drink had always triggered the arguments. We've been meeting and she really wants to give it another shot."
"And that's what you want too?"
"She is my wife. I just want to try and get one marriage right. It's always been me that was at fault. She put up with a lot. They all did to tell you the truth. I just think I owe her this."
Viggo, not usually lost for words didn't say a thing. After all, there was nothing to say. After Sean had left, he cried himself out and mentally picked up the soggy, feeble body of the little bird putting it gently back into the cage and swearing that he would lock the door once and for all and throw away the key.
He deleted Sean's number from his phone and his email address from his address book. When he spoke to friends from The Rings cast, he never mentioned Sean and never picked up on any of their comments about him. Orlando and Dominic had both tried a little fishing, but when he resolutely refused to bite, they backed off. Others were more discreet and for Viggo, Sean had become 'he who shall not be named'. In private, though, his heart ached and he grieved the loss.
It was two more years before Sean tried to get back in touch with him. He froze, when he played back his messages one evening and heard that voice, which still managed to send a thrill down his back.
"Viggo....We need to talk. Please call me. You have my number."
*Oh yeah, I have your number, Sean.* But of course, he didn't have Sean's actual number any longer and he'd deliberately wiped it from his brain. He paced up and down asking himself whether he really wanted to get back in touch. What could Sean possibly have to say to him? 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me!' He had trusted twice and twice his trust had been shattered. Surely Sean could not be expecting him to fall for it again?
Sean left more messages, each one becoming more desperate, until finally, he said with an exhausted resignation,
"Viggo, love, please, please call. This is the last message I'll leave. In case you don't have the number, it's...."
Viggo scrabbled for a Sharpie and wrote it on his hand. He stood staring at the black digits. Sean had called him 'love'. He knew that it was a common form of address where Sean came from, but Sean had once told him he loved him and he still surely loved Sean. The bird fluttered and he could feel it in his chest. Convinced that he was probably doing a very stupid thing, he keyed the number into his phone and waited.
"Hello."
Viggo's hand shook and his eyes filled up with tears again. Choked, he was unable to speak.
"Viggo? Oh God, it is you. Please say something. Anything."
He tried to keep his voice calm and level.
"Sean? How are you doing?"
An answering sob startled him and his heart contracted.
"Sean?"
"Viggo, I am such a fucking idiot. I need to see you."
His heart was trying to break through his rib cage, but still he kept his voice even.
"I don't think that would be a very good idea, Sean. What's done is done."
"No, it was never done. Please meet me. I know you are home in LA and I'm there too."
"With your wife?"
"No."
"But you are still married?"
Sean muttered something unintelligible.
"I'm sorry?"
"We're getting a divorce."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Please meet me and let me have my say, then if you never want to see me again, I'll understand."
"Okay. You want to come over or meet on neutral ground?"
"Can I come over?"
"Okay, but Sean, just to talk, okay? I'm not going to go to bed with you."
After a moment of silence, there was a muffled, "Okay."
Viggo attempted a tidy-up in his chaotic house, partly because it had always been something Sean had teased him about when... and partly to try and keep from thinking too much. An hour later, he could see the floor and a couple of couches and Sean was ringing the doorbell.
He counted to ten slowly, took a deep breath and went to the door. He was a little taken aback by how pale and drawn Sean looked, but accepted the proffered bottle of Jameson's with thanks. For a moment, he thought Sean was going to hug him, but he stepped back quickly *not this time, buster* and gestured Sean inside.
He got a couple of glasses and poured them both drinks, then sat cross legged on one couch, tucking his bare feet underneath him and nodding to Sean to take the other couch.
"Sean, you wanted to talk, so talk."
"I'm so sorry that I hurt you, betrayed you even. Mam and Dad have always had the perfect marriage, the rock that kept our family grounded. I grew up thinking that was how it should be. I thought I'd be able to find it if I followed their example. It was all I ever wanted."
Viggo tried to harden his heart, but Sean sounded so defeated. He longed to go over and put an arm around the slumped shoulders.
"I understand that you were trying to have what they have, Sean, believe me, I do. But I trusted you and had my heart shredded twice. I love you and always will, but I can't do this again."
"I know that I've no right to ask it of you, but I swear that I never stopped loving you. I'd got my ideas all twisted. I was fixed on trying to find the perfect soul mate and I'd already found you, only I was too fucking stupid to see it."
"So what are you asking of me now?"
Sean moved across to Viggo's couch and sank down on his knees in front of him.
"I want us to be together, properly, Viggo. I want you to give me another chance and we'll come out and live together openly, even go and get married somewhere where it's legal."
"You would be willing to do that, even if it killed your career?"
"Yes, I should have done it years ago. I already told you that I'm a fool."
"You must think I'm a fool too, if you're asking me to trust you for a third time. Why would I believe anything you say?"
"Please, Viggo. I swear I'll make it up to you." He grinned sheepishly, "Anyway, don't they say third time lucky? Take a chance, Viggo. I promise you won't regret it."
The physical and emotional yearnings were almost too much to bear. "Three times isn't always lucky, Sean. You know what they used to say in the trenches about not taking the third light from a match?"
"Oh, yeah. The sniper spots the first light, takes aim on the second and shoots the poor bastard who gets the third light."
"Well that would be me, Sean. If,...and I say if...I trusted you a third time and you let me down, it'd destroy me as surely as a sniper's bullet through the brain."
"You won't regret it. Please."
Viggo hesitated. He could see that Sean was longing to touch him and must be sorely tempted to try and seduce him into agreeing. Sean's whole body was trembling with emotion and the evident effort not to reach out. That was the final clincher for him. It would have been so easy for Sean to try that strategy, which had never failed before and he respected him for it.
He reached out and pulled Sean up into his lap, the little bird bursting forth again and soaring.
"Okay. Life is short and there's never been anybody else but you since you. I guess I'm taking the third light."
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Date: 2010-08-01 11:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-13 08:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-01 12:45 pm (UTC)Thanks a lot for writing this!
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Date: 2010-08-13 08:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-01 02:29 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-08-01 02:50 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-08-13 08:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-02 09:02 am (UTC)Another thing that I quite liked was Sean's continued promises that he kept breaking. Granted, it's nothing that made him all that likeable but definitely human and very real. And even if that means that the happy ending of the story seems like a fragile one, one that we don't know whether to trust to stand the test of time, it's still worth it because this kind of blind fishing for something, this desperate need to have something solid without himself being solid is as much part of Sean's character as the quiet desperation as well as undying hope is of Viggo's.
Thank you for sharing!
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Date: 2010-08-13 08:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-02 09:11 am (UTC)Only...I want more! I don't even know what, exactly, just that this feels more like a beginning than an end. I guess my mind will now go off on a happy little trip, thinking about how things will go for them now (the public and private adjustments, the reactions of friends), which is a gift in itself.
Thank you, whoever you are.
Mari
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Date: 2010-08-02 09:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-13 08:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-04 06:05 am (UTC)his mouth feeling like the bottom of the birdcage
lovely turns of phrase and the sweet bird motif made this a lyrical read for me. thank you so much.
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Date: 2010-08-13 08:25 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-08-13 05:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-13 08:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-14 03:10 am (UTC)viggo's little caged bird - which is just how i'd imagine what you're really referring to there - certainly took a beating and it's a wonder it survived. you have a way of telling, that makes me bear with it. like 'real' fic. so that's a compliment.
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Date: 2010-08-14 07:18 pm (UTC)Thank you for the compliment, helena. I know this kind of fic is not your cup of tea.
I was trying to tailor this to the request and at times wasn't totally comfortable with it myself. However, in the end, as I said, I am a hopeful romantic and I am glad that Viggo stuck with it, when, as you say, in real life I'd be rooting for him to ditch the bastard and move on. :D