Sean let his tea be taken from him--it was far too hot to drink yet as it was, and he liked to let it settle a little rather than drinking it piping hot. That was a bad habit of being on set, actually, since you rarely ever were able to drink your drink hot, you got a bit of a taste for cold tea.
Making himself a little more comfortable across the other man's lap, he raised his hands up in turn so that he could touch Viggo's face too, and stroke his hair, and push a few stray strands back behind his ears. He still wasn't conventionally beautiful, and he didn't take up space the way that Sean appreciated Bale could; the way that even in a photograph full of dazzling celebrities, actresses, supermodels and singers, it was Christian who popped out of the scene like nobody else mattered, but Viggo was beautiful to him. Sean had come to appreciate his lines, the laughter about his lips and his eyes, and the way everything blurred together, and when Viggo laughed and smiled he looked like he really meant it, and Sean made him laugh and smile as often as he could as a result.
"Well that's just it," he answered, smiling. "If neither of us can speak it, means we'll end up spending more time alone, only communicating when we absolutely have to. You'll pick it up eventually of course, but not before we've made a proper nest for ourselves herding sheep or something. But your idea sounds just as perfect. Sounds fantastic. Going walking with you..."
It had been a long time since he'd gone trekking up mountainsides. It sounded like a perfect idea. Sounded a hell of a lot better than what they were doing tomorrow, but he knew it was petulant and childish--that running away from it all wasn't going to make it go away. He knew Viggo would come with him if he didn't want to do it, if he wanted to flee and keep going and disappear the way that the world would let them if they were quiet enough.
But he would never be happy then, would he? He owed it to himself to be unafraid of who he was, to be able to live free and confident, unburdened by secrets, able to kiss his lover in public, able to hold his hand, able to look into his eyes and thank him in a crowd of people.
"I want to do this," he said, and looked back into Viggo's eyes for only a moment longer before drawing back. "I want to do this--I'm gonna do it, too. With you. Because I want to."
He tangled his hands in Viggo's hair and kissed him hard, then pulled himself up out of the other man's lap.
"Stay right here. I got a present for you."
Sean wasn't gone for long. It took him less than a minute to fetch the heavy box from his luggage - mostly abandoned - and when he came back, placed it down in Viggo's lap.
"Better than anything they're gonna give you in that goodie-bag, and a day early gonna be much more use."
It was a good bottle of whiskey--well aged. He'd brought it all the way from home just for them, just for tonight, and while it was still early, time for tea, not for booze, he knew he'd just end up forgetting it otherwise.
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Making himself a little more comfortable across the other man's lap, he raised his hands up in turn so that he could touch Viggo's face too, and stroke his hair, and push a few stray strands back behind his ears. He still wasn't conventionally beautiful, and he didn't take up space the way that Sean appreciated Bale could; the way that even in a photograph full of dazzling celebrities, actresses, supermodels and singers, it was Christian who popped out of the scene like nobody else mattered, but Viggo was beautiful to him. Sean had come to appreciate his lines, the laughter about his lips and his eyes, and the way everything blurred together, and when Viggo laughed and smiled he looked like he really meant it, and Sean made him laugh and smile as often as he could as a result.
"Well that's just it," he answered, smiling. "If neither of us can speak it, means we'll end up spending more time alone, only communicating when we absolutely have to. You'll pick it up eventually of course, but not before we've made a proper nest for ourselves herding sheep or something. But your idea sounds just as perfect. Sounds fantastic. Going walking with you..."
It had been a long time since he'd gone trekking up mountainsides. It sounded like a perfect idea. Sounded a hell of a lot better than what they were doing tomorrow, but he knew it was petulant and childish--that running away from it all wasn't going to make it go away. He knew Viggo would come with him if he didn't want to do it, if he wanted to flee and keep going and disappear the way that the world would let them if they were quiet enough.
But he would never be happy then, would he? He owed it to himself to be unafraid of who he was, to be able to live free and confident, unburdened by secrets, able to kiss his lover in public, able to hold his hand, able to look into his eyes and thank him in a crowd of people.
"I want to do this," he said, and looked back into Viggo's eyes for only a moment longer before drawing back. "I want to do this--I'm gonna do it, too. With you. Because I want to."
He tangled his hands in Viggo's hair and kissed him hard, then pulled himself up out of the other man's lap.
"Stay right here. I got a present for you."
Sean wasn't gone for long. It took him less than a minute to fetch the heavy box from his luggage - mostly abandoned - and when he came back, placed it down in Viggo's lap.
"Better than anything they're gonna give you in that goodie-bag, and a day early gonna be much more use."
It was a good bottle of whiskey--well aged. He'd brought it all the way from home just for them, just for tonight, and while it was still early, time for tea, not for booze, he knew he'd just end up forgetting it otherwise.