Title: Fear of a Broken Heart 2/4
Author: Sairalinde
Type: RPS / FPS?
Pairing: Viggo/Sean B.
Rating: Explicit Sex
Beta: Glorfindel
Disclaimer: This never happened...this is total fiction spurred on by a chain smoking chocolate eating bunny that lives in my purse. Viggo, and Sean are real people but I make no claims on them. This was written in fun that's all.
Feedback: Yes please send to sairalinde @ hornofgondor.com
Archiving: OEAM, Rugbytackling, LOM, GO-others ask.
Summary/Notes: Sean’s fear of a broken heart causes some problems.

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[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

Chapter 2

Early that morning around five Sean awoke to Viggo coughing badly and rushed into the room. He was sitting up in bed and having trouble breathing.

“Viggo…are you alright?”

“No,” he whispered between coughs and gasps for air, “I feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest.”

“Hang on…I’m calling someone,” Sean said grabbing his cell phone and punching numbers. A little while later a doctor assigned to the production with silver hair arrived.

After he examined Viggo and listened to his chest he said, “It’s not pneumonia but it’s close. A very bad chest cold that could get worse. Just keep giving him liquids, taking aspirin for the fever, and if it gets any worse bring him in to the clinic. I am also going to give him a B-12 shot. He should feel better in a day or two.”

Viggo grimaced--oh well if it would make the elephant who had taken up residence on his chest go away he was all for it.

The doctor noticed the look on his face and smiled. “I should think a hero wouldn’t mind a little needle. You’ve been pretty rough and tumble on set.”

“I only play a hero, and that’s not exactly a little needle, doc,” Viggo said softly.

Sean had already returned to the kitchen and didn’t hear the exchange. Viggo was thankful for that. Sean had been taking care of him, but he was sure his friend wouldn’t let him live it down either after it was over.

“Oh come on, you have a couple of tattoos this is far easier than that. Now if you can just turn over this won’t hurt a bit,” the doctor reassured.

Viggo rolled over on the couch and the doctor pulled his sweats and boxers down and gave him a shot in the rump. Viggo just grit his teeth and then he felt the doctor put the band-aid on. “Well meeting you was a real pain in the ass,” Viggo said grinning.

The doctor laughed. “At least you are keeping a sense of humor…laughter is the best medicine as they say. Now call me if you need anything,” he said gathering up his bag. The doctor went to the kitchen and spoke to Sean for a few moments and before leaving.

“You do look better this morning if that helps any.”

“Doc said my fever had gone down some,” Viggo replied.

“You think you can stagger to the kitchen for breakfast?”

“Sure…what’s on the menu?” He asked trying to sit up. His rump was burning where the doctor had given him a shot.

“Tea and oatmeal…figured something warm like that would help,” Sean smiled.

Viggo made his way for the kitchen and sat down at the table while Sean put a bowl and a cup in front of him and returned for his own. Viggo hung his head and stared at the warm food in front of him.

“Shit…I have never been this sick before. I feel as if all of my energy has been drained away.”

Sean slid into the chair across from him. “I don’t think I have seen anyone this sick with a cold before, Vig. It sure hit you fast too, your body must have really been worn down. You really should start taking better care of yourself.”

Viggo nodded glumly at that, Sean was right. He didn’t take very good care of himself sometimes. He would get so wrapped up in work, and his art that he forgot to eat most of the time. His brain seemed to have this shut down on it, that once he was wrapped up in something, some thought, some role, some painting, or poem he was locked into it. He couldn’t stop until he was satisfied it was at least halfway right. New Zealand had really opened the floodgates of creativity and if it weren’t for Sean he’d probably have already starved to death.

Viggo managed to choke down a bit of the oatmeal and tea…he knew the stuff probably tasted good from the way Sean ate his own breakfast, though Viggo couldn’t taste it.

The day seemed to pass slowly. He spent most of it wrapped up in a blanket on the couch writing in his journal while Sean read a book but he looked over at him every time he wheezed or coughed and often asked, ‘You ok?’

Viggo looked up from his journal unable to keep his mind on the words anymore, and watched Sean reading. He was sitting in Viggo’s favorite chair with his sock feet propped on the coffee table. His eyes were shadowed where they skimmed over the words on the pages, the light from the lamp casting a golden glow around him. He was unable to look away from his friend. The way his hair fell across his forehead, the way his elegant hands curled around the book, and then the way he turned a page almost as if caressing it. Viggo found himself wishing that he were the book. He shivered at the thought of those elegant hands caressing him and Sean looked up at him.

“Are you cold?” Sean asked setting the book aside.

“No…no just a chill,” Viggo said softly.

“Are you sure?” Sean asked looking at him intently, worried his fever had returned.

“I’m feeling much better, really.”

Sean glanced at the clock on the wall. “I should probably make you something to eat, and then get back to my place so you can rest.”

“Stay,” Viggo said softly.

“What?” Sean asked leaning forward.

“I said stay…please.”

“If you really want me to then I won’t leave,” Sean answered standing up. Viggo’s eyes followed him all the way to the kitchen. Sean really was a graceful man, seeing him move always seemed to stir something inside Viggo. Something he’d been trying to keep at bay for weeks now.

Then he remembered his fever induced rambling the day before. Viggo set his journal aside and crawled off the couch pulling the blanket around his shoulders and followed Sean to the kitchen.

“Sean?” He asked stopping in the doorway as he watched Sean at the sink.

“Yeah?”

“Did I really tell you I’d imagined taking a shower with you?” Viggo asked tugging at a frayed string on the edge of the blanket.

“Yes. You did,” Sean stated with a grin.

“That didn’t bother you?” Viggo asked.

“Why should it?” Sean asked with a shrug.

Viggo wasn’t sure how to answer that. “Well I um…just thought it might make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable. I’m your friend. You told me a while back that you were attracted to both men and women, so it’s ok. So you are attracted to me… it’s ok. Really it is. Doesn’t bother me a bit,” Sean explained as he moved about the kitchen.

Viggo could read between those lines, Sean wasn’t a homophobe but he wasn’t interested in Viggo as more than a friend. Viggo stood there for a moment feeling as if all his hopes and dreams had been dashed away in the space of five minutes then sighed inwardly and nodded, “Good…good. Glad I didn’t freak you out or anything.”

“Nope, not freaked out in the least,” Sean shrugged taking something out of the cupboard, “Now why don’t you just go lay down and rest…I think I can manage on my own.”

Viggo sighed and headed back to the living room. Damn. Damn. Damn. He thought as he curled under the blanket. He should never have even had that conversation with Sean…then at least he’d have hope. Now that was shattered.

Sean puttered about the kitchen wishing he’d not been so nonchalant with Viggo, but he couldn’t risk putting his heart on the line again. Not so soon after the divorce that he was still reeling from. Deep down he’d wanted to tell his friend that he too wanted more, but it wouldn’t have been right. He’d known for a while how Viggo felt about him, could sense it, and he felt the same but he’d never been emotionally involved with another man in that way and it scared him as much as it excited him. Sure he’d had sex with a few blokes over the years, but his heart had never been involved. Viggo…well this was different. This time there were feelings that Sean recognized were more than just base desire, so it was much more complicated than a simple shag.

Part of him worried that the strong feelings he had were a result of Viggo being there for him, that he was confusing friendship with love. He had been there supporting him through the divorce, cheering him up, making him laugh when all he felt like doing was sulking. If it had been anyone else showing that much compassion he might have fallen for them too because he desperately needed to feel loved after being rejected…again. A rebound sort of thing, and Sean knew from experience those never worked out, so he didn’t want to act on how he felt.

He shook his head as he stirred the soup on the stove. This was best. Keep it friends. These feelings would go away eventually…right, like a teenage crush or something? He wanted Viggo, that was for damn sure, but he couldn’t let himself ruin such a close friendship, and he wasn’t about to risk his heart again.

He let his thoughts wander back to the day before. Finding Viggo on the porch, asleep and shivering. He was so pale, and Sean had felt his heart leap into his throat at the sight of him. Yes, he did love him, but that had never been enough in the past.

Continue to Chapter 3