Spoils of War for caras_galadhon

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Title: Spoils of War
Author: shegollum
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Angst
Request: Genres - Any of kink, BDSM, established relationship, angst-with-happy-ending, drama-with-happy-ending, fantasy (sci-fi/paranormal/supernatural/what-have-you) AU, understated/realistic romance; Ratings - any, although R and up preferred; Prompt(s) or general mood(s) - "A million times I've asked you/And then I ask you over again/You only answer/Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps."
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It's make believe and completely untrue.



~~~~~

Remnants of War
Sean

When your part in a war is over, you don't want to stick around. You don't give much thought to the people you'll be leaving even though you've spent what seems like forever standing side by side with them, knee deep in gore and fear and death. There are things you've done - things you never imagined you could or would - and you want to bury them deep and never think of them again.

The fire-hot sand has worked its way into your eyes, all the layers of your clothes and even the insides of the socks on your booted feet one last time and it's not until you're somewhere over the ocean that you begin to remember the smell of grass and fallen leaves.

And then the brief exhilaration of being anywhere but 'there' wears off and that's when the nightmares begin in earnest. And they're not always content with just bringing you thrashing awake in the darkest hours. Sometimes they decide to walk with you no matter how bright the light.

It is in the midst of those ragged waves of memories that I find myself thinking of Viggo and his calm blue eyes. In them, he'd always offered silent promises that there were still things beautiful and righteous in the world.

~*~

Thomas died in his sleep. A young man, not yet forty. They said it was his heart and that no one saw it coming. Gone just like that. Almost two years of watching his ass to keep from being killed and then he came home and died before his wife gave birth to his post-war baby.

Everyone says that's how they'd like to go. Some days I say I don't want to go at all but on others, I'm not sure that I'm not already dead.

~~~~~


The Smallest Things Make the Biggest Memories
Viggo

I hadn't seen Sean since the last day we served together. Of all the people I'd been there with, he was the only one I'd gotten close to. We'd had some of the same interests in football and beer - in roughly that order - and spent some of our time at the dismal on-base bar watching scratchy replays of games and drowning our sorrows. Most of the other men thought of him as distant and quiet and I think he liked cultivating that persona. On the other hand, he'd blown his cover with anyone who'd been in the bar on a night when he got to watch his team play. Whether they won or lost, he made enough racket for ten men, jumping up from the table and shouting all kinds of colorful things in an accent he usually hid under something much more neutral. He'd drop back down in his chair with either a grin or a frown, always widening his eyes in exasperation that I'd been able to stay in my seat. I enjoyed the frowns - I was amused and he knew it - but I lived for those broad, unfettered smiles.

In the beginning, he'd given me a rough time about my habit of always having a book in hand, but eventually he started taking a look, commenting on some things he'd read, asking about ones that were new to him. We shared a lot of interests and had a lot of the same questions and regrets about how we'd ended up where we were in life and seemed equally at a loss when it came to how to find something different, be something different.

He'd been married. I hadn't and my relationships weren't the kind one spoke of in the US military. They didn't ask and I didn't tell but I never had any doubt that Sean knew. Neither did I doubt for a minute that he had a pretty good sense of the feelings that were developing in me. It gave me a bit of satisfaction to know that he didn't simply take it in stride with good grace and then move along. There was more to it than that. He liked it. He took a bit of quiet pleasure in it that he gave away every once in a blue moon by holding my gaze longer than was entirely comfortable, or crowding just a little closer than needed in tight quarters. I silently called him on it once - looking right at him until he finally had to meet my eyes - and he blushed furiously and then made himself busy yelling at someone way down the line, leaving me looking after him and full of confusion.

I wondered sometimes what would happen if I whispered even a word of my feelings to him, but life has made me a cautious man. I held back, never allowing my appreciation of his sun-streaked hair and green eyes along with his tall, lean build - or the fact that he moved like a fucking panther - to evolve into anything overt. Even if he enjoyed the idea of my attention, I'd learned long before to second-guess myself when it came to any move toward another person. Instead I dealt with some pretty spectacular dreams and wanderings of my mind in the most efficient of ways which is to say all on my own.

On one brutally hot and dry night, we'd fallen into a comfortable silence during the halftime break and I could feel Sean studying me. I turned toward him, ready to give him some grief about it when I saw that he'd carefully opened his wallet and was leaning across our table to hand it to me so that I could see a faded and worn picture. "Sandy," he'd mumbled and I'd nodded, not sure what to say. She was lovely, face shining with an open smile and dark, sparkling eyes that conveyed unrestrained happiness. After a moment, I realized that the picture was folded, half of it hidden away, yet I could see that the hand she held was Sean's and when I looked up, his eyes were bright with wetness I could see even in the dim light.

"Car accident," he'd said softly and still no words came to me. I'd reached for his arm, feeling the play of muscle and tendon beneath my grasp as he carefully placed the photograph back into his wallet. He didn't pull away but he didn't look up either. After a moment, he nodded and I sat back. When he raised his eyes, he took a deep breath and stood, finishing his beer before he met my gaze.

"Lots to do tomorrow. I'm calling it a night." Before I could reply, he slipped away, not even looking up to catch the score on his way out.

I watched him go, remembering the time he'd laughed bitterly and told me that enlisting for the US was a mistake that followed his first mistake which was immigrating at all. He'd made vague references to a lover he'd followed from England and barbed jokes about how he'd regretted it enough to throw himself right into a war. Later it occurred to me that I'd never known the name of whomever waited at home for him now and yet I knew Sandy's.

~*~

We'd hated every minute of being where we were and seeing things we would forever wish we hadn't, yet I thought our friendship would withstand it all. We were on the same transport to the airport and sat on the same bench in a mostly empty truck. We were the ones tending to the final sealing off of the camp and it was our job to ensure no stragglers were left behind. That made us and five other guys the very last ones out.

My duffel bag was shoved up under the bench behind my feet but Sean's was where he'd dropped it right in front of his seat. He put his feet up on it and slumped back, giving me a little smile because he knew what he was doing was his first step back into being a civilian. The few of us who were still there didn't care about posture or appearance among ourselves. Saluting and according respect where due remained essential but a bit of slouching was back in play as well, as was grinning for no solid reason while doing so.

I admired Sean as he leaned all the way back, and I chuckled when he winked at me because he caught me at it. I looked away and my eyes landed on the tags on his bag.

"North Carolina?" I was surprised. "That's where you're heading?"

"Perhaps," he mumbled. He scowled a little. "For a little while anyway."

"I won't be far away at all. One state south and-"

"I think we're there," Sean interrupted, grabbing his bag and pulling papers out of his pocket as he led the way through Security. Once we were through, he turned and gave me a quick handshake, fumbling a little as he seemed to grab my hand and let go of it all at once. Before I could think of a thing to say, he'd patted my shoulder and focused on me with a long but shuttered look and then strode off with his bag slung over his shoulder.

I gathered my wits just quickly enough to call after him as he walked away. "I'll see ya, right?" He stopped and turned barely long enough to grin a little and say a quiet "Perhaps".

~*~

Thomas' funeral took place on the sunniest day we'd seen in a week. Light bounced off the white marble markers that trailed away in neat rows. There weren't a whole lot of people. Thomas' widow wasn't there. She was in the same hospital where her husband had died, caring for their newborn baby girl. A picture of the two of them, their daughter an impossibly small bundle in a soft pink blanket, held pride of place in the seats at graveside. Thomas' only sibling, his sister Theresa, held tight to their mother during the brief graveside service and her two teenage sons flanked them both as they helped her to the car afterward.

Several of the men we'd served with were there and we greeted each other with unease, each of us asking about jobs and family but never mentioning the war. I didn't see Sean until I'd turned away from the gravesite and caught sight of him on a small rise a few yards back from the handful of remaining people. I walked toward him as they drifted away.

"Sean," I said, extending a hand. "Sad reason to have to meet up, but it's good to see you again."

His smile was only a shadow but his handshake was firm and warm. He nodded. "His mother-" he murmured.

"That was Thomas's sister taking her home. She'll be alright."

"As alright as anyone losing someone they love," he said bitterly

I nodded helplessly. "Yeah. And after he'd made it through..." My empty hands spread wide to encompass all the close calls.

"Yeah." Sean looked upward and I studied him for those few seconds. I'd always had a sense that there was an underlying danger in Sean, a store of energy that might burst free without warning, yet there was no sign of it now. He simply seemed tired. I waited for more but even when he met my gaze again, he didn't speak. I took in the look in his eyes, seeing something there that took my breath away. He closed his eyes and took a shallow breath. "I should be-"

I couldn't let him walk away again."No rush, right? Want to - I don't know - grab a beer and catch up?"

There was that look again, something making the green of his eyes sharper. Surprising myself, I moved a step closer, knowing at once that it was too close but I was driven by an urgent need to say or do something that would keep him from slipping away.

"Sean." I must have spoken his name a thousand times before but it felt new and warm against my tongue and I couldn't hold his gaze. The heat and humidity seemed to have increased a hundredfold and I brushed at tiny flecks of recently mown grass that dotted my wrists as I looked down. I unbuttoned the cuff and rolled up my sleeve as though it required utmost concentration. I could feel him watching me and, as I shifted my suit coat to my other arm to unbutton the other sleeve, I looked up again and waited.

He nodded slowly, as though he were deep in thought and I'd swear he sighed before he spoke. "Not many other people I'd drink piss poor American beer for," he said and that old, familiar smirk made my heart beat double-time.

"Not many other snobby Brits I'd ask to," I countered.

He laughed at that - a low, growl that sounded like it hadn't been used in a while - and in that bright light, I felt as comfortable as I had in a long time.

~~~~~

A Long Lost Lightness
Sean

I'd sworn that I would walk away and never see any of them again. Yet when I heard about Thomas, I was on a plane and down in South Carolina without more than a second thought. He's buried here now, in this cold, stark military cemetery.

With one last draw on my cigarette, I realized that this area was filled with great sniper holes. From any direction, a good shooter could take us all out. It's not that I expect it to happen. Not anymore. It's just that I haven't been able to let some things go. I know they don't need to be part of who I am or what I do yet I still watch where I put my feet because I once saw someone killed by stepping through a tripwire. I still enter even my own house with a level of suspicion that I know is ridiculous yet there it all is anyway.

It feels right that I came to pay my respects, but now I want nothing more than to be far away - until that shaggy blonde head turns and I see Viggo walking toward me. There's some weird combination of cold and heat in my belly that I've only ever felt when looking at him. It's unsettling and sends me some message - it's something else my body tells me to watch for even though my brain reminds me there's no need - but I stay right where I am and wait and suddenly I realize how glad I am to see him.

~~~~~

Saved by the Beer
Viggo

We could have found a pub there in Anderson but when I drove past any number of them and got on the interstate, Sean didn't say a word other than to mumble an agreement when I suggested somewhere I know. I explained that it's a place a friend of mine owns and it's closer to my neck of the woods in River Grove. We turned off the highway and started down a road that was as much dirt as aged macadam. The oaks that almost met overhead made patterns of light and dark on the dash and I noticed that Sean focused on them, reaching out to trace them at one point, but he didn't speak. I glanced over a time or two but only caught glimpses of his face in the half-shadows. As we pulled through the last of the trees, we took another turn into the parking lot of a small restaurant that was mostly all bar. Sean stuck his head out the window to read the wooden sign hanging out front - Joffrey's - and slipped out of the truck. As I rounded the hood toward his door, I was greeted with an 'after you' gesture and an easy, much missed grin that gave me a sense of both relief and happiness. I smiled to myself as he followed behind into the cool darkness.

We waited on our beer while I picked at a dish of boiled peanuts and he started in on a basket of chips. His leery glance toward the peanuts was incentive enough for me to try to get him to take one but his grimace let me know that that wasn't going to happen. I had to settle for making a big show of how much I enjoyed mine. He turned in his chair, looking for the TV, and I had a jolt of remembering him in just that position on so many nights in the bar back overseas. He'd known which side of the table to sit on then - always facing the screen to watch his football. He turned back to me with a grimace as he saw the golf game on the TV. He shook his head.

"You Americans and your stupid-"

"Don't even try to blame golf on the Americans, Sean."

He laughed in a way that seemed to shake off the last of any reticence just as Joffrey himself came out to greet us. I got the usual hug and introduced my lifelong friend to Sean, being sure to include the caveat that he was not to believe everything that Joffrey said. Just as expected, Joffrey immediately took it upon himself to share a selection of stupid things I'd done in my life. With a nod at me, he started telling stories about our misspent youth. I knew better than to try to stop him. Joffrey was in his element with a captive audience. He was just starting to get to some of the embarrassing parts when Kelly thankfully showed up with our first round.

"Saved by the beer," I mumbled, taking a long swallow. "Joff, must be busy up there. Maybe you'd better get back behind the bar." I looked pointedly around the near empty room and gave him a sour look, daring him to challenge me. He gave a small whoop and stood, slapping me on the shoulder as he walked off, still laughing.

"So, did you really-"

"No."

"He seemed awfully sure."

"He's a drunk. That's why he runs a bar, so he doesn't have to go far for a drink." I scowled at Sean.

"Alright then." His grin was bright and he clinked his mug against mine. "Maybe I'll go up to the bar to get the next round."

"You'll do no such fucking thing. Kelly'll take care of us just fine. Here, try a fucking peanut, you big girl."

Ignoring me, Sean sat back and took a look around and I watched him. I caught glimpses of the remoteness he wore as a shield threatening to break through again and I was glad when Kelly reappeared with another round, courtesy of Joffrey.

"I've got a message for Sean," she drawled, waiting for him to look up, a sparkle in her wide eyes. When she had his attention, she drew out her words. "It did so happen."

I started to protest but was stopped dead in my tracks by Sean's outright and unguarded laughter. I tossed a peanut or two in his direction before I gave in and waved Joffrey back over to finish the story.

~~~~~

Caution and Craziness
Sean

Viggo drove us off to a pub that belonged to a friend of his, as it turned out. It was far away from the cemetery and noise of the highway and felt like it was a million miles away from all those things I hoped never to see again. No beige sand or cold white marble; just lush green trees and grass and the faint smell of jasmine mingled in with wood smoke.

I was introduced to a friend he'd grown up with: Joffrey, a character of the first order. He delighted in telling me stories of various ridiculous escapades they'd shared, teasing Viggo mercilessly throughout. As the stories went on, I learned that they'd grown up not in River Grove but in a town on the other side of the state. While Joffrey had married and eventually ended up in River Grove, Viggo had busted out of Chastain without a look back. It sounded like things hadn't been entirely wonderful for him at home although I got that impression from Joffrey more so than from anything Viggo said. When Viggo'd reconnected with Joffrey after a number of years, he'd been convinced to give River Grove a try and he'd considered it his home for a dozen years now.

Between watching the effortlessness of a long friendship and joining in the simple cadence of good conversation, I felt a sense of ease I'd thought I'd never experience again.

Before I quite knew what had happened, I was laughing in a way that felt like I was drawing breath all the way down into my belly for the first time in years. I was talking as though I belonged with these people who hadn't been where Viggo and I had and it didn't occur to me until later how odd that was. Just days before, I would have bet every bloody dollar in my pocket against that ever happening again.

I knew Viggo picked up on my feelings at first and watched me as though unsure how I would handle being there. I don't know if he wondered how I felt about being with him in particular or if he wondered whether I would have regretted accepting any invitation that kept me from disappearing all over again. There was a part of me that was glad he watched because I didn't know that I could find the strength to pull myself all the way back together if I let the tightness in my shoulders and chest and all around my thoughts and speech completely give way. And as I thought that I had the realization that once again, I was relying on Viggo to keep me sane.

I enjoyed watching Viggo squirm as his friends told of his teenage escapades and when he began to look a bit miserable with all they were giving away, he'd sneak a look at me, his bright blue eyes begging for understanding and clearly willing to accept outright pity at the disservice being done him. It was impossible not to laugh though I honestly did try to hold back at first. Seeing Viggo outside in the real world and without the dread that came with knowing that after a few more beers, we'd have to head back to the rest of the troops and slip back behind the facades we'd worked out was almost overwhelming. A connection that I'd hidden away came surging back and as it washed over me, it took with it some of the ever present remnants of fear.

The daylight outside began to fade and the realization that there was nowhere I had to be and no one I had to care for sank into my bones. I winked at Viggo who smiled back. He quickly switched to a grimace as Joffrey dropped into the booth alongside him and began telling a tale about a stolen bottle of vodka and the two of them hiding in a cemetery until they'd finished it all. Convinced that they were not just fit to drive, but bound to be better than ever at it, Joffrey jumped into the driver's seat of Viggo's truck and promptly drove forward into a tombstone. Viggo had looked across the seat and past Joffrey just in time to see the driver's door tilt downward and then fall off with a loud bang.

"Good God! What did you do?"

"Oh, he had it covered. Viggo plans everything ahead so he was prepared. Fucking Boy Scout," Joffrey needled.

"Setting aside the fact that the Boy Scouts weren't overly fond of boys like me, it is true that I'm usually better prepared than Joffrey but that's not saying a whole lot. He would have climbed in the bed of the truck and gone to sleep without another thought."

"But Vig had rope, lengths and lengths of it. He used that and a come-along to pull the door on tight and then he just wrapped miles of rope around the door and the cab. We had to squeeze our way in through the passenger window, trying not to get rope burns anywhere important."

"So I like to be prepared." Viggo shrugged. "Saved your ass, didn't I?"

Joffrey ignored him in favor of Sean. "He plans things to death. Have you noticed that yet? You'll have to be a very patient man around him or he'll drive you crazy."

"Which explains a lot about you," Viggo tossed back at Joffrey. Even while I was laughing at the two of them, I felt that there was a subtext in Joffrey's casual comment that was meant for me.

~~~~~

Journeys
Viggo

"Thought you'd be back in England by now." I sounded more interested than I had a right to be but Sean just looked at me thoughtfully. His hands were wrapped around his mug and his fingertips tapped against the sweaty glass.

"No. I had to go home to Charlotte."

"Charlotte?"

He smiled after a minute. "The city, not a girl."

I nodded and met his smile, then said a silent prayer and plowed on. "So that's over?"

He swallowed deeply and I could sense that he was holding his breath. "Actually, yes." He kept playing with the mug and I fought the urge to wrap my hands around his to still them. He looked up abruptly, his eyes a defiant flash of green. "Michael was gone when I got there. It was hardly a surprise. It wasn't good when I left and it wouldn't have been any better when I came back." His words were measured and his eyes stayed locked on mine.

Instinctively, I muttered "I'm sorry" but I know I stumbled over my own words.

"Don't be. It was all but over before I went in the service."

"But you went home to...him."

"No, I went home. I didn't expect him to be there. I went home to my house and my belongings and a place that wasn't gritty with sand and noisy with chopper blades. I just went home."

"And you're heading back now?"

He paused for a long time and then looked up and mumbled "Yeah." I was astonished to realize he was flushed as he continued. "I was."

My heartbeat pounded in my ears and I couldn't believe my next words even as they left my mouth. "Ever thought of taking a little break? Maybe not head right back to Charlotte but stay somewhere for a few days or so? I dunno...ever think of giving South Carolina a try? There aren't many choppers around here either."

I was completely flustered by his grin but couldn't stop talking. "And no sand to speak of."

His smile grew broader. "But there's you," he finally said and I felt everything in me screech to a halt.

"Yeah. There's me," I said softly, uncertain in every bone in my body. There'd been so many unused opportunities once and now, when it seemed like we were both back and entrenched in our own lives, there was an openness between us that I'd not fully anticipated.

He surprised me with another grin. "Hmm. So what do you do to fight the boredom?" His eyes glittered with humor and I was reminded of those nights in that dark, tented bar, him watching football and me watching him.

"Well...there's fishing."

"Never fished a day in my life."

"Well then, you should learn."

"Okay, I guess," Sean said cautiously. "But I don't mess with worms or pieces of cheese or whatever else you put on the end of a hook. That's disgusting."

I laughed at the look of repulsion on his face and tipped my beer against his. "So you'll give it a shot? We could go in the morning. That's when the fish bite best." I didn't make a point of asking him to stay the night but there it was on the table between us.

He considered this for quite some time before looking up with a nod, squinting at me as though thinking things through. After a moment, he quietly added "Perhaps."

~~~~~

Bedtime
Sean

I've wrestled with sleeplessness for so long that I never go to bed expecting any more than a few hours of sleep. I knew I'd be up before daybreak but told Viggo I'd see him at breakfast. No need for him to feel the need to babysit.

The room he had for me was small in a welcoming way. A large bed took up nearly all of the space, leaving room only for a tall, thin bureau and a deep, comfortable chair by the window. The bathroom was just down the hall and Viggo's room was past that, all the way at the back of the house. I had a shower while he sat out front and enjoyed a cigarette and a glass of brandy. I kept my shower brief, not knowing how long the hot water would last, and had to go looking for him when I was through.

I could hear whippoorwills calling in the trees as I passed through the screen door and out onto the porch. He was leaning on one elbow that was braced against the arm of the porch swing. Even half-asleep, one foot kept the well-used swing moving in uneven little waves. I eased the door closed behind me but he heard the tiny snick of frame against jamb and he startled, eyes open at once.

"Sorry, Vig," I whispered. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"No problem. I wasn't really asleep. How are you doing? Good shower?" He looked at his watch. "Quick one. Old military habit, I suppose."

"For old times' sake," I grinned.

"Yeah. Old times." He realized that I'd changed clothes. "You actually found something in the chest of drawers that fit? Good." He smiled at me standing there in jeans that were just a little too short.

"Well, it's not the most stylish I've ever looked-"

Grinning, Viggo stood and looked around for his glass and shoes and dropped his book on the swing. "You're right about that." He laughed. "My turn for the shower. You calling it a night?"

I nodded, surprised by a wide yawn. Viggo smiled broadly and I followed him down the hall. He went just past the door to my room and stopped, letting me slip inside. I stood a bit awkwardly, not wanting him to leave but not sure of anything else. I leaned back against the bureau, looking at him and remembering how much it had taken to walk away at that airport. I'd wanted so much to say something, make some gesture that would make him understand the feelings I had inside but I hadn't been able to untangle them enough to understand them myself much less voice them.

Viggo held my gaze for a moment and then looked across the room at the bed and nightstand. "Got everything you need?"

"Yeah, I'm good." Once again there were things I wanted to say but I couldn't quite leap across that chasm from thoughts to words. Viggo smiled at me and I was surprised to recognize a hint of sadness in it.

"Okay then." He started to step away and I spoke quickly.

"How about you, Vig? Are you doing okay?"

His smile faded but after several seconds he murmured, "Yeah."

Barely realizing I'd moved, I put my hand on his shoulder and waited for him to meet my eyes again. When he looked up, I felt a wave of desire so strong that I took a step back. Viggo waited for two heartbeats, three, and then the same poignant smile reappeared and he nodded toward the bedside light, waiting for me to turn it on before he switched off the overhead.

"G'night, Sean," he said. "See you in the morning."

I nodded, my brain too muddled to offer anything more than thanks and wishes for a good night's sleep.

~*~

I expected to lie awake for a long while, sure of what had just transpired but not at all sure of what I wanted to do about it. Nights weren't an easy time for me and tonight, I had new things to consider. Viggo had been my friend through some of the worst times of my life but under those circumstances, emotions and actions were all boxed in by the duty and fear that made up our every waking hour. I'd felt an attraction toward Viggo even then but acting on it had been out of the question. Although I hadn't been entirely faithful to Michael, each time I'd been with another, it had been almost perfunctory and had happened as far out of the context of my everyday existence as it could be.

The moon shone through limbs and leaves to cast a gently moving pattern on the ceiling and I recalled the shadow and light in Viggo's truck and the feeling that it was okay just to be at ease. I turned on my side and closed my eyes, feeling the gentle and welcome pull of sleep for the first time in a very long while.

~*~

Midnight Confessions
Sean

Something woke me much later and I sat upright with my heart pounding in my chest. I wasn't sure what I'd heard and my ears all but ached with the strain as I tried to pick up any additional sounds. Whatever it was, it seemed to have come from the area of the porch and I had a sudden flicker of fear at the possibility of someone bursting in through the wooden door. I waited for just a moment more but heard nothing beyond the rustling of tree limbs against the window. I slipped out of bed, pulling on my jeans, and moved quickly and carefully toward the front door. Surprised to find it open and only the screen door pulled to, I pressed my back to the wall on the darker side of the hallway and inched forward. I heard something a steady and even rasp that baffled me but it hardly sounded threatening. I stepped forward, throwing open the screen door to scare off what I now assumed must be an animal of some sort. I saw a figure leaping up from the porch swing in a flurry of motion and realized almost at once that it was Viggo. I grabbed his arms to stop him, seeing that he wasn't yet fully awake.

"Viggo! Vig!" I whispered urgently, holding him steady until he looked up at me. His blue eyes were unfocused and yet full of so many things that I recognized with an aching clarity that I drew in a breath as I pressed my forehead to his.

"It's okay," I shushed. "You're okay." Viggo stepped into the circle of my arms and wrapping him in them and feeling him push into me seeking warmth or comfort or the solid feel of another person made tears spring to my eyes and I realized from somewhere far away that I hadn't cried in years.

I steered him over to the porch swing, pushing aside the blanket he'd covered himself with, noting the book on the floor and the bottle of whisky beside it, and pulled him down to sit beside me. He didn't say a word for a very long time and when he spoke, his voice was raspy and fatigued.

"I don't sleep real well at times," he mumbled. "Helps to be outside."

"Didn't help tonight, did it?" I asked softly, pulling him closer and pressing my chin against the top of his head. I felt his sigh and the slow shake of his head.

"Well, I'm here tonight and that makes it different, Viggo. I'm right here to watch out for you, so sleep. I'll be right here."

With a soft smile, Viggo drew back and I saw the faint sadness in his eyes and the tired circles beneath.

"I trust you," he murmured and I felt my heart open wide. "But no more sleep... let me wake up for a while and then I'll try again later. You know how it is."

I nodded. He was right. I knew precisely what it was like. I knew the fear and guilt and hopelessness that dragged him awake and I couldn't help but contrast it with how, just hours before, I'd fallen asleep gently and deeply in the comfort of Viggo's home. I thought about guiding him inside, making him let me watch over him as he slept, but he whispered a soft request that surprised me and pushed every other thought aside.

"Tell me about Sandy, Sean."

I felt like my tongue didn't remember how to make words. It'd been so very long since I'd even said her name aloud that speaking of her - sharing memories of her - didn't make sense and I couldn't find a way to start.

"Why do you want to know any of that, Vig?" I whispered. No one had asked about Sandy in years. I wasn't sure that Michael had ever even known her name.

"You must have loved her very much."

Nodding, I looked down at our bare feet resting side by side, and suddenly smiled at the memory of how ticklish Sandy's toes had been. I'd ended up with a busted lip the one and only time I'd dared to rub her feet.

Viggo pushed against me with his shoulder and when I glanced at him, I saw a smile on his face. "She made you laugh a lot?" I nodded and he took my hand between his own and squeezed it gently. "I guess that's why I want to know. I want to hear... I want to see you remember. I want to watch you laugh without thinking twice about it."

"I thought I was supposed to be comforting you," I said distractedly. "You're the one waking up in a cold sweat."

"Maybe...maybe this is what I want."

I mumbled something, fighting to stay in the present while memories that seemed to tumble all over each other pulled me elsewhere. I felt his hand clasp my shoulder and then slowly stroke the length of my back.

"I thought I'd die," I heard myself whisper. "I wanted to die. She was my everything, my whole life. When it happened - when they came to tell me she was gone - something inside me clicked off." I felt tears I hadn't cried all those years before threatening and I leaned forward, resting my head in my hands and willing my thoughts to stop. "It's been years since I felt-" I stopped, startled, and said no more.

"I'm so sorry, Sean. She must have been wonderful."

I nodded silently as the tears came and Viggo stayed with me, pulling me back against his chest and wrapping his arms around me. I felt his wet cheek at the nape of my neck.

It was a while before I could speak again, but once I started, it was as though I couldn't tell Viggo enough. I wanted him to know how beautiful she'd been, both inside and out. How, all that time ago, she'd seen something in me that was special to her and I would never forget that feeling. I felt that the best part of me - whatever it was she believed about me - died with her.

Long after Sandy passed, I realized I felt an attraction to men as well as to women. I'd been confused at first but soon welcomed the simplicity of their differences in all ways - physically but often emotionally as well - and the distance it put between me and my memories. There had been one other woman for a brief time as well but it just was never right. And then I'd met Michael. I'd mistaken ravenous physical need for something deeper and moved to the US with him. Somewhere along the way, I'd ended up in the armed services and then was caught up in a vicious war I had no belief in.

Finally talk turned to other relationships, both mine and Viggo's. I learned that while he'd been involved with a few men over the years, he'd never had what he considered a serious relationship. He told me he'd never been in love before. He faltered a little at that comment, as though he'd weighted it above all else, but I let it pass and asked him to tell me more. He'd wasted time, he told me, wishing he wasn't gay and trying to force his way into being straight. All his life, he'd been taught that being gay was a sin. His church told him so, his family, even his first lover, a girl who began to realize that his level of interest wasn't what she'd experienced with other hormone-crazed teenage boys, eventually told him the same. I seethed as I heard the pain in his voice when he described a program meant to 'cure' him. He'd tried to be what he thought he was supposed to be and every day, he'd become less and less sure of who he really was. The day he left the program, he swore he no longer had a soul and he just drifted after that, staying away from anyone, knowing and accepting that what he was was a terrible thing, a violation of what he believed his God wanted him to be. My heart broke for him as I listened but I was angry, too.

"Do you still believe who you are is wrong, Viggo? Do you believe it is wrong to love another man?" I waited, wanting nothing more than to pull the words from him, empty him of them and then force the truth back into its place. He spoke quietly.

"When my father was very sick and knew he was going to die, he called my brother into his room. My mother was there at his bedside. I heard my father tell my brother that he loved him... and then I heard him tell him that I needed to be healed. Saved. With his last breath, he didn't tell me he loved me. He told my brother to make sure I became someone else."

There was nothing in me to say. There were no words I could think of to take away this memory, no way to make it so that it had never happened. I turned and lifted his face to mine and I kissed his mouth slowly and then I kissed each eyelid in turn, tasting faint traces of salt that fed both my anger and my resolve to never let him feel such pain again.

"He was wrong, Viggo," I whispered, burying my face in the curve of his neck and pressing the words into his skin. "He was the one who was wrong."

"I know. I do, Sean. It took a long time for me to realize that they were wrong...that what they tried to make me believe was wrong but I know it in my head. Now my heart, my soul... I'm not sure they ever quite caught on." He laughed. "My body has fully embraced it, however."

He'd caught me off guard and I chuckled before pulling him close again. I nipped at his smiling lips until he met me in a long kiss that brought about a soft moan from me and a solid grope of my ass from him. I couldn't stop smiling between kisses and our touches became more urgent. His hands felt hot through my shirt and I felt a need deeper than anything I'd known in a very long time. When Viggo began to pull away, I was surprised and hurt. I met his gaze and held it, trying to figure out his thoughts. I could read frustration and confusion but he shrugged away from me and moved to the edge of the porch to look up at the moon once more. He pointed it out and let it evolve into a silly story about moonshine and Joffrey and a spectacularly bad hangover years ago. I smiled faintly but let him sidestep the questions I really wanted to ask and instead asked for another story, letting him stay in the comfort of those things he'd long known.

The soft grayness of dawn was coming upon us as we ran out of words. Sitting on the timeworn steps of the porch and facing out into the woods that curved around his house, we watched the sun begin to come up, highlighting the sparkle of dew all around us.

"Hmm," Viggo said, standing slowly and half-grinning/half-grimacing as a knee or ankle popped loudly. "Too old for this," he grumbled as he reached for my hand and pulled me up. I groaned and stretched, wincing as I felt my muscles drawn out against their will.

"We're quite a pair." I chuckled, watching as Viggo quietly started picking up things - the book and the bottle and glass. I followed and started folding the blanket, smiling as once everything was gathered he just looked around a little helplessly before setting them all back down on the floor with a wry smile. "Guess that can wait."

"Yeah. Guess it can."

I looked at him, waiting for him to voice whatever thoughts he was wrestling with.

Finally he sighed and spoke. "I was thinking of how happy you were once and how I've never seen you like that. Today at the bar, I saw a part of you that seemed so right yet I'd never seen it before. I wondered if that was who you were back when you had Sandy." He paused and seemed to think long and hard before he spoke again. He turned and locked his eyes on mine, not looking away as he murmured, "It was breathtaking. I want to see you that happy again."

My mind clamped down on my emotions. This feeling of being so exposed and open suddenly terrified me and I felt tense inside, like a spring coiled too tight. Viggo had stepped inside while my guard was all the way down and I needed to fight habit and instinct to keep the walls out of the way. I looked at him helplessly. He focused on the floor as he took a seat on the old swing.

"Did you ever think you'd fall in love again?" he asked quietly and I spoke instantly from behind a long held defense.

"No."

The soft, slow sound of Viggo's indrawn breath made me look away again. I focused on the sound of the whippoorwills, rhythmic and soothing. There was a squeak from a protesting chain as Viggo got up from the swing and I felt his warmth as he stood silently behind me. I realized with a sudden crystal clarity that I wanted him to ask again. I wanted him to change how he asked it. But he didn't and as I heard the soft scuff of his feet as he took a step away, I answered what he couldn't quite ask.

I saw the trees all around and the moon beyond and I hung onto the steadiness of it all as I said it out loud after all this time. "But now...it's different...I... No, I never thought that I would. Not for many, many years." I turned to look into his eyes, lingering as I took in his face and how it was perfectly the same and yet radiantly different. I stepped closer without another thought, tipping his chin up and kissing him slowly. I felt myself smile as I looked at him with a new honesty that seemed to slip out from behind the wall crumbling inside. "But now...I think I do...am..." At the last moment, the panic threatened but I knew he saw right through the smile I couldn't hold back as I said "Perhaps."

He grinned and pressed his hand against my chest and I knew he was feeling the beat of my heart. My pulse sped up as he leaned close enough for me to feel his warm breath against my mouth. "Perhaps?" he whispered.

The feeling of something inside me letting go and opening up grew stronger and I blushed and stumbled a little as I sought to keep some sense of equilibrium. "Yeah, perhaps," I repeated as my hands cupped his face and I pulled him forward into the moonlight so that I could see the pale clarity of his blue eyes before I kissed him again. He put his hands low on my waist and held me close, teasing at my bottom lip until I parted my lips to his tongue, and he groaned in a way that sent shivers the length of my body.

"Viggo?" I needed to look into his eyes again. I wanted to see matching desire in them. They were bright and the pupils large and without another moment of hesitation, I kissed him again, deeply and passionately and with a needy groan rumbling in my chest. Steering him backward to the swing, I pushed him down on it, half-straddling him in a way that couldn't help but be awkward. He tilted his head back and I bent to his throat, licking at the rough stubble and teasing at his skin with my teeth.

"Oh God, Sean," he moaned, and he pulled me closer just as awkwardly, making a loud oof sound when I tripped completely and ended up sprawled across him, the porch swing pushed high behind. Without warning - and if there had been one, I'm not entirely certain we would have heard it - one of the chains that held the swing to the porch ceiling gave way and we were on the floor before we knew it, stunned into stillness and silence for a long moment. We heard the birds run for cover in a rustle of tree leaves and the muffled beating of wings.

"Ow," Viggo finally said, quiet as ever.

"Fuck!" I yelled, loud as always.

Another moment passed and then we were laughing like lunatics, making up for the sound of the scattered whippoorwills and then some.


~~~~~

The Morning After Before
Viggo

"I hurt all over."

"I was on bottom. I think I have more reason to complain."

"You seemed okay. Are you? Okay, I mean?"

"My ass hurts like a bitch but yeah, I'll live."

"No chains next time," Sean said and I turned to see him leaning on the island in the middle of the kitchen, biting into an apple and smirking as he enjoyed the back and forth. "I promise I'll make it good for you."

"Yeah well. We'll see." I heard more crunching behind me as I pulled out a cast iron pan and dawdled over picking the right spatula and whisk. Finally he put what we both were wondering about right out in the open and I all but panicked as I saw everything in the bright light of day.

"Giant, bloody mood breaker aside..."

"I think I'm out of milk but-"

"Giant mood breaker aside," Sean repeated in a raised voice, "I'd like to know where we were heading out there."

"The solid oak planks of the porch," I muttered, desperately focused on starting a pot of coffee. Why was I looking in the fucking cabinet when I've always kept fresh beans in the freezer?

He snorted with laughter and I heard him pull out a chair at the table. I wondered if he was taking mine or one of the others - any of which would need to be cleared off and dusted.

"So why didn't we ever?"

I spun around. "Well, because I thought you were straight for starters!" I had a sudden, crazed flash of satisfaction because I knew he liked milk and would have to do without. Certain that I'd lost my mind and equally sure that my face rivaled the redness of the apple in his hand, I grabbed the pantry door and stepped inside, looking for God knows what. Suddenly I felt Sean's hand curl around mine where it rested on the doorframe. I stopped moving, much less thinking, and waited, wanting him to touch me so much that it hurt and yet terrified that he would do exactly that.

"When we were over there, I never wanted to be with anyone but you. Those nights of sitting and drinking and talking got me through, Vig. Every fucking time we left that place and went back to work, I felt sick with pain over not being able to look into your eyes for another day, another week."

I dropped my head forward and shuddered when he stepped closer and pressed his lips against the nape of my neck.

"I thought about it - taking that chance - to let you know what I was beginning to feel but somewhere along the way, I'd decided to put all of the 'good things' aside. Left them somewhere safe because I didn't want the war to touch them, didn't want the ugliness of it all to stick to it. And then... I got used to living like that, I think."

"Like you did when you lost Sandy," I blurted out.

Sean didn't speak for a long uncomfortable moment and I wondered if I'd hurt him.

"Yes," he finally said. His tone was thoughtful. "I wanted to keep her from it, too. The memory of her..." His voice shook a little as he continued. "But I wanted to share her with you. Only you. I wanted you to know her and see her face...the light in her eyes...because every fucking time I saw you, it was that same light in yours that made anything else worthwhile. You pulled me through it all day after day after day."

Without another thought, I turned and pulled him into a deep, quiet kiss. "Thank you," I murmured, wanting only to hold him. "Thank you, Sean."

With a gruff sound and a step back, Sean looked past me into the pantry. "Doesn't look too promising in there." I had to agree and when I did, I came up with a great idea.

"Fishing. You said you wanted to learn how to fish."

"No. You said I wanted to learn how to fish."

"Details, details." He followed me into the mudroom and watched me shuffle amongst things hanging from wooden pegs until I could reach behind them and find fishing gear.

"Ah ha! Here!" I shoved a rod into this hand, following it with my old wooden tackle box. I suddenly stopped to look at him again, following his rough hands up to his broad shoulders and then looking him full in the face and feeling a simmering heat moving toward my groin as I took in the angles of his features, his strong nose and the green eyes that watched me so intently.

"What are you thinking about?" he murmured huskily.

I couldn't help but grin wickedly as I replied. "Dirty things... good dirty things..."

"Yeah?"

Sean's hopeful look was quashed when I said, "Yeah... nothing clean and tidy about fishing."

Sean scowled. "Bastard."

Feeling a bit embarrassed, I tried to explain in a rational fashion but my words came out in one horny rush anyway. "Oh, get over it. I've never been that spontaneous. If I was, I'd have nailed you to the wall one of those times you almost flirted with me and fucked you until-". I stopped, eyes wide.

Sean looked equally as startled. "Well then..."

"Yeah. Well then."

"Spontaneity can be good."

"So can waiting. That's why you're going to learn how to fish today and allow me some time to figure out what comes next."

Devilish grin out in full force, Sean raised an eyebrow. "Did you say 'what' comes next? Or 'who'?"

I groaned and took the tackle box and fishing rod back from him. "You look like a mess. Didn't anybody ever tell you that staying out all night makes you hot and sweaty..." My words trailed off and I know I gulped audibly. "And damn near unbearably sexy?"

With a smirk, Sean came closer and I ducked under his outstretched arm.

"I need coffee. Go take a shower."

"But I'll just get dirty again," Sean countered.

I tilted my head in the direction of the bathroom, grinning, but I saw frustration on Sean's face and his words came out sharply. "This isn't as new as you're making it out to be, Viggo. No games. Not with you." He stepped back, putting distance between us. "Tell me now. Do you want this? Should I have come here at all?"

I stood stock still for a moment, startled into silence. When I spoke, I measured my words carefully and my heart was in every one of them. "I want you so much that I can barely think straight, Sean. I feel like I've wanted you my whole life and now you're here...and it must seem...unmanly or unfair of me in some way to hesitate now but you have to know...just how much this means. How much you mean. I want this to be right. I can't bear the thought of you getting out of my bed with regrets...the thought of you driving away and disappearing again because I've come at it all wrong."

Sean's face changed and the look in his eyes intensified as though he was begging me to look into them and see who he really is. He took his time studying me and then he came closer, clasping my shoulder in his broad, strong hands. He slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips against my forehead and I felt tension and fear ebbing away.

"I don't understand that fear, Viggo. Not after all we saw together. This is supposed to be the easy part. Falling off a bloody log and all of that. Is it being with me that scares you?"

"Not scared. Careful. Cautious. Just ask Joffrey."

"I'm asking you."

Surprising both of us, I laughed. Sean drew away to look at me and he slowly chuckled as well. "You're a mad bastard," he said, smirking.

"Not exactly news, now is it?"

Sean smiled and shook his head. "No. Not in the least, Viggo." He reached out to hold my chin in his hand, his thumb brushing slowly across my mouth. When he looked me in the eye again, it was in a way that sent anticipatory shivers straight to my groin. His voice was low and rough when he spoke. "So tell me. Shall I stay? Or go? If nothing else, you promised to teach me to fish."

I found myself speechless again.

"I'm going to go take a shower like you told me to do and when I come out, let's talk. After all this time, I've finally learned what I want and it's you. And I want all of it, all of you, now because I know how fast time moves and how little we really have. So think about everything while I'm in there and make up your mind about what you want."

Sean was speaking steadily but there was hurt in his voice that made my heart ache. "Whatever you want, Viggo. Tell me you want me and I'm not going anywhere. But - and God, I hope that you won't ask me to - if you need me to leave, then I will." My own words tangled in my throat as I watched him turn and walk away.

~~~~~

Getting Dirty When You're Supposed to be Getting Clean
Sean

I closed the door behind me and rested against it, closing my eyes and feeling the whirlwind I'm caught in tear at me. Something that started long ago and a million miles away was now right in front of me and my heart pounded because I wasn't sure I really could walk away if Viggo asked me to.

I shrugged out of my clothes and stepped into the shower, welcoming the hot water that pounded on my shoulders as I just stood, counting the large tiles beneath my feet as though keeping an eye on them would ensure that they'd stay put.

"You know, I find that soap helps in the whole cleaning process. There's some there-"

"Viggo!" I jumped as the shower curtain slid back, damn near falling on my ass. For a moment, I wasn't sure he was really standing there, but he was and he was slowly unbuttoning his shirt and stepping out of his jeans. I'd seen him all but naked many times but seeing him now made me want him with a hunger that shook me.

He casually stuck a foot under the water. "Hot... Good. Okay if I come in?"

"But you needed time..."

"And I had it. You yourself said that time is moving along pretty quickly so I figure that five minutes or so was enough time. Well, that plus the fact that I knew what I wanted years ago and this is just the ending that should have come along way back then." Viggo seemed to be caught up in his own thoughts and words for a moment but when he stopped explaining himself, the slight frown of concentration went away and was replaced by something unerringly certain and undeniably feral.

I stumbled over my words. "Are you getting in or not? If no, I'm coming out. There's a fucking cold draft coming in."

He cocked his head to the side and took his time looking up and down my body. I felt a blush from head to toe even in the mix of hot water and cool air. "Perhaps."

"Beginning, by the way." I stuttered, feeling a grin sneaking up on me as he looked at me questioningly. "You said 'ending'. That this was the ending you'd wanted and I just want to clarify that this is the beginning."

He stepped in then, pulling me toward him, making me groan as his hands started at my hips and quickly slid lower. I leaned forward to bite at his throat and he tilted his head to the side, growling in a way that went straight to my cock when I took advantage of the newly exposed skin and worked my way upward to his earlobe. With an urgent moan, he pulled my mouth to his and kissed me hard, whispering against my lips as he pulled away.

"I...caution...I'm giving it up..."

I chuckled and held his face between my hands. "It's alright then?"

"Perhaps," he said, grinning wickedly. I suddenly slipped a bit, catching the wall behind with my hands as Viggo dropped to his knees, cupping my balls in one hand and stroking my cock with the other. "Yeah," he murmured as I felt the heat of his mouth on me, hotter than the water beating down on us. I did my best to let him lead and not thrust deep into his throat but he was eager and encouraging and sucked and stroked in a maddening rhythm that pushed me beyond the limits of my control.

I could feel the trembling in my thighs as I fought not to come but it was a losing battle as Viggo never let up. Looking down to see my cock sliding in and out of his mouth and hearing and feeling him moan all at once was one of the most erotic things I could imagine-- and I'd imagined it more than once before. I tried to warn with a tug to his hair but he took me deeper, making needy sounds low in his throat as I came. The feel of my cock driving through my own come deep in the heat of his mouth was a blinding moment of utter decadence.

"Jesus," I said, sliding down the shower wall to him, pulling him close and feeling his heartbeat against my own.

"Jesus would have frowned on this...or so I've heard." I felt Viggo's laughter in his chest and kissed down the line of his breastbone, feeling his breaths shortening as I straddled him and pushed him beneath me on the shower floor.

"Don't really care," I said in between kisses and bites to his throat, smiling when he thrust against my hand and gave himself to me completely.

~*~

Despite having bruises on my knees that would last a week, I couldn't stop smiling as Viggo snuffled and burrowed closer, sliding a leg over and between mine. His bed was plenty big yet he'd snuggled and squirmed to the point that we were curled up together on one side and the blankets were somewhere on the other. I ran a finger down his spine to see him frown in his sleep and then kissed his forehead, lingering to smell his scent.

Thoughts were floating through my head and they were different than any I'd had for a very long time. I wasn't scared to sleep and I wasn't scared to wake. Wars fought within and around us both were behind us and we'd survived them all. I grinned again as Viggo all but tunneled into my side in his sleep. I gently pushed him away, shushing him with a kiss as he groaned sleepily in protest, and slid my way down his body, kissing a line from his mouth to his chest to his cock. When he woke all the way, I rose over him, settling between his widespread thighs and teasing him before slowly pushing inside inch by exquisite inch. I breathed his name over and over as we made love again in the moonlight, and with every sound, we overwrote the darkness of the past with the blissful rightness of our future.