Ficlet: Entrechat Cinquante: dirty
Apr. 14th, 2009 11:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
splixTitle: Entrechat Cinquante
Pairing: VigBean
Rating: G to NC-17
Author: Alex
Warning: AU
Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
seans_50 challenge.
Beta: the most excellent![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kimberlite.
Disclaimer: Utterly untrue.
Prompt: dirty.
August 1995
*
“Do you want any tea?”
Viggo shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”
“Juice? A snack?” Sean rose from the couch. “I was going to have a cup of tea.”
“Don’t let me stop you.” Viggo tilted his head back and offered Sean a small smile. “I can get my own snack, but thanks.”
“Okay.” Sean went into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. He leaned against the counter, waiting for the water to heat. It was absurd to feel hurt. He’d been away for eight weeks – had he expected Viggo, the most self-sufficient man he knew, to be helplessly vaporing around the flat, needing Sean to wait on him hand and foot? Of course not. And he’d been delighted at Viggo’s progress. The physical therapy was going really well, and Viggo was a model patient – all the therapists and patient care aides at the rehab centre said so. Maybe a little too enthusiastically, Sean thought grudgingly – they all flirted like mad with Viggo, and Viggo did nothing to discourage them. But that was neither here nor there. He’d missed Viggo desperately, and had called every day without fail. Before this, they’d scarcely been apart for more than a few days at a time, and Sean had realized how much he needed Viggo. So it would be nice to feel needed in return, once in a while. It was pouty and childish of him, but he couldn’t help himself. He was determined not to show it, though. There were problems enough as it was.
An odd reserve had sprung up between them, despite the daily long-distance telephone calls. Part of it was simple preoccupation: Sean had to get the new season in shape, and Viggo was busy with therapy. Their days were spent apart now. That was bad enough. What was worse was a newly surfaced emotional gap that Sean couldn’t understand. The day he’d come home, he’d been overjoyed to see Viggo, and he thought Viggo had felt the same. They’d tried to have sex, but Viggo couldn’t get comfortable and Sean had stopped, feeling selfish and a bit brutal for expecting too much. Three weeks had passed and they still hadn’t had sex. Viggo hadn’t requested it, and Sean hadn't wanted to pressure him. He'd settled for wanking into a facecloth in the loo, the way he had on tour; it felt furtive and joyless, without anticipation making it bearable.
Now he felt a rime of frost overlaying Viggo’s mood. He tiptoed around it. They were polite to each other, almost excessively so. Sean was overly solicitous, likely annoying, and Viggo was doing his best not to snap in irritation. Occasionally flashes of emotion would streak across Viggo’s face, but he never dropped his poise. Viggo had a right to be frosty. A year of his life was shot to hell, and who knew what would happen afterward?
Maybe, Sean thought as he splashed milk into his tea, it was time to present Viggo with the notion he’d been kicking about for the past two days. Maybe that would help.
He came back into the living room and set his tea on the coffee table, then perched on a chair. He beamed at Viggo. “Feels like we haven’t had a chance just to be quiet together yet.”
Viggo looked up from his book. “I know. We’ve just been busy. That’s the way it goes.”
“True.” Sean shrugged, nonchalant, unconcerned, lying his arse off. “It’ll be nice to get back to a decent routine, though.”
“Be a while before that happens.”
“Yeah, I know.” Sean took a breath. “Jens stopped by my office on Friday. Big news.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s retiring.”
“Wow.” Viggo lay his book facedown on the couch. “Wow. He’s been with MBT since...what? Sixty-seven, sixty-eight?”
Sean nodded and blew on his tea. “Sixty-eight, I think. Hard to imagine Jens as a kid.”
“Tell me about it. I bet he was a serious grown-up in the crib.” Viggo smiled, the first genuine smile Sean had seen in days. “What’s he going to do?”
“He and Patricia are moving to someplace in the Poconos. East...Stroudsburg or sommat like that. It’s an hour or so from here. I guess she inherited some Victorian house there, and she’s keen to start renovating. Jens is actually looking forward to it, or so he says. Wants to get out of the city. I envy them the garden space, I suppose.” Sean shook his head.
“End of an era,” Viggo proclaimed. “When does he want to leave?”
“Their lease is up in December, and I think they want to be there for Christmas.”
Viggo gave a low whistle. “That’s soon.”
“Yeah, but at least he didn’t give me two weeks’ notice and blow town,” Sean replied. “Anyway, Vig, I’ve been thinking. We need a ballet master now, and I was wondering if you’d be up for the job.”
Viggo stared at Sean. “Me.”
“Yeah. I think you’d be fantastic.” Sean warmed to his subject. “I can’t do both jobs. Besides, the kids love you, and you can command their respect. And you wouldn’t have to be fully healed to do it, either. You could help me with casting, I could help you with choreography – it’d be a brilliant partnership. And once you’re fully healed, you can go on dancing.” He went on in that vein for a bit until he realized that Viggo’s face was carefully blank. He frowned. “Isn’t it something you might want to do?”
A full minute passed without Viggo saying a word. Finally, a thin smile twisted his mouth upward. “This isn’t the ballet version of a pity fuck, is it?”
The reply, full of scorn, hit Sean in the gut. For a few seconds he sat in stunned silence. Then a sickening anger coiled around him and constricted. He fought to contain a caustic retort, and it was the hardest fight of his life. Not knowing what else to do, he stood up. “I thought it might be something you’d want, Vig. Of course you’re not obliged to take it. Sorry I asked.”
He turned and left the room, abandoning his cooling tea and fleeing Viggo’s contempt.
*
They were near the last of the summer tomatoes, which was sad. There was no substitute for a home-grown tomato, no matter how much D’Agostino’s charged for their small hothouse things. Sean put a basket aside for Mrs. Westin below them. Half of what he gave her she ate, half went into a fantastic handmade chutney that Viggo poured over rice and chicken.
Sean frowned and struck savagely at the earth with his spade. The only solution for his mood was to work and get his hands really dirty. He stacked a few cucumbers beside Mrs. Westin’s tomatoes and turned to the sugar snap peas. He plucked one off the vine, dusted it off on his shirt, and popped it in his mouth. It was delicious, sweet and crisp, the best he’d raised yet.
A faint thumping signified Viggo’s slow ascent of the garden stairs. Sean picked up his spade again and turned the earth, affecting total absorption in his task. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Viggo lower himself onto the lounger, obviously waiting for Sean to turn around. Sean shrugged inwardly and set his spade down to harvest the last of the pea pods.
“I’m sorry,” Viggo said softly.
Sean stiffened. “It’s no bother.” He popped another pea pod into his mouth and crunched as fiercely as if he’d been eating rocks.
“I didn’t mean to be so...such an asshole.”
Sean turned around, still on his knees. Viggo was staring at the ground, looking miserable, but Sean wasn’t exactly dancing for joy himself. “It wasn’t a pity fuck, Vig.”
“I know.” Viggo didn’t look up. “I know that. I’ve been...it’s weird. Before you came back home, I was doing okay. Therapy was going pretty good, I was keeping myself busy...and then you came back, and you were so goddamn happy to see me, and you’re running all over the place, busy with a million things –“
“Oh, Jesus.” A tide of remorse swamped Sean, and he sat back on his heels. He wanted to rush to Viggo’s side, but Viggo’s tense posture indicated that he wasn’t ready to be touched or held. “I didn’t mean to – I should have –“
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Viggo said. “I was just pissed off. And pig-jealous. That first night....” He shook his head. “It was like the rest of my life was passing me by. A year’s a long fucking time for a dancer, you know?”
I’m an idiot. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“I thought I was used to the idea.” Viggo turned his lightweight metal cane over in his hands. “But when I saw you all...able-bodied, I got angry all over again. I didn’t want you touching me, or feeling sorry for me.” He looked up at Sean. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. I know it wasn’t a pity fuck. I didn't mean that, and I shouldn't have said it.”
Viggo’s body was still tense. Fuck that. Sean crawled over and wrapped his arms around Viggo, ignoring the slight resistance. “Vig, I’m sorry.” Gradually, the stiffness melted, and Viggo rested his head against Sean’s shoulder. Sean felt a faint wetness against his collarbone, and kissed behind Viggo’s ear. “I don’t want you to be angry at me. I know it’s fucking selfish, but I can’t stand it.” Sean held Viggo tightly, waiting for Viggo’s liberated tide of emotion to subside, knowing he wouldn’t be ready to speak until it did. At last, he pulled away and brushed his thumb over Viggo’s scar. “You want a pea pod?”
Viggo smiled. “Sure.” He accepted the pod and munched on it, staring out at the hazy August twilight. “I’ll take the job.”
“No,” Sean replied hastily. “I can find someone else to do it. I can do it myself until I find a replacement. Jens isn’t leaving until December anyway.”
Viggo shook his head. “I want it.” He held up a hand to forestall any protests. “I need to work. I need to be back at MBT. If my tendon doesn’t heal right, I’m going to need a job anyway.”
“You can think about it,” Sean said. “You’ve got time.”
“Okay. Deal.” Viggo stuck out his hand, and Sean shook it. He put his arms around Sean’s neck. “You know, I have a lot to make up to you.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, I’ve been such a crabby bastard.” He gave Sean an appetizing smile. “Maybe we could start over.”
Gently, Sean disentangled Viggo’s arms from around his neck. Then he bent and slid one hand beneath Viggo’s thighs, the other round his back, and hoisted him up. Viggo let out a graceless squawk. “I didn’t hurt your leg, did I?” Sean asked anxiously.
Viggo laughed and hooked an arm around Sean’s neck. “No. Do I weigh a lot?”
“I don’t think I could lift you over my head,” Sean grunted.
“Too bad.” Viggo’s tone was arch.
“Well...I could try, anyway.” Sean started down the stairs carefully. God, it felt good to hold him again.
“My hero.”
*
picture bygovi20
My table is here
Pairing: VigBean
Rating: G to NC-17
Author: Alex
Warning: AU
Written for the
seans_50 challenge.Beta: the most excellent
kimberlite.Disclaimer: Utterly untrue.
Prompt: dirty.
August 1995
*
“Do you want any tea?”
Viggo shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”
“Juice? A snack?” Sean rose from the couch. “I was going to have a cup of tea.”
“Don’t let me stop you.” Viggo tilted his head back and offered Sean a small smile. “I can get my own snack, but thanks.”
“Okay.” Sean went into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. He leaned against the counter, waiting for the water to heat. It was absurd to feel hurt. He’d been away for eight weeks – had he expected Viggo, the most self-sufficient man he knew, to be helplessly vaporing around the flat, needing Sean to wait on him hand and foot? Of course not. And he’d been delighted at Viggo’s progress. The physical therapy was going really well, and Viggo was a model patient – all the therapists and patient care aides at the rehab centre said so. Maybe a little too enthusiastically, Sean thought grudgingly – they all flirted like mad with Viggo, and Viggo did nothing to discourage them. But that was neither here nor there. He’d missed Viggo desperately, and had called every day without fail. Before this, they’d scarcely been apart for more than a few days at a time, and Sean had realized how much he needed Viggo. So it would be nice to feel needed in return, once in a while. It was pouty and childish of him, but he couldn’t help himself. He was determined not to show it, though. There were problems enough as it was.
An odd reserve had sprung up between them, despite the daily long-distance telephone calls. Part of it was simple preoccupation: Sean had to get the new season in shape, and Viggo was busy with therapy. Their days were spent apart now. That was bad enough. What was worse was a newly surfaced emotional gap that Sean couldn’t understand. The day he’d come home, he’d been overjoyed to see Viggo, and he thought Viggo had felt the same. They’d tried to have sex, but Viggo couldn’t get comfortable and Sean had stopped, feeling selfish and a bit brutal for expecting too much. Three weeks had passed and they still hadn’t had sex. Viggo hadn’t requested it, and Sean hadn't wanted to pressure him. He'd settled for wanking into a facecloth in the loo, the way he had on tour; it felt furtive and joyless, without anticipation making it bearable.
Now he felt a rime of frost overlaying Viggo’s mood. He tiptoed around it. They were polite to each other, almost excessively so. Sean was overly solicitous, likely annoying, and Viggo was doing his best not to snap in irritation. Occasionally flashes of emotion would streak across Viggo’s face, but he never dropped his poise. Viggo had a right to be frosty. A year of his life was shot to hell, and who knew what would happen afterward?
Maybe, Sean thought as he splashed milk into his tea, it was time to present Viggo with the notion he’d been kicking about for the past two days. Maybe that would help.
He came back into the living room and set his tea on the coffee table, then perched on a chair. He beamed at Viggo. “Feels like we haven’t had a chance just to be quiet together yet.”
Viggo looked up from his book. “I know. We’ve just been busy. That’s the way it goes.”
“True.” Sean shrugged, nonchalant, unconcerned, lying his arse off. “It’ll be nice to get back to a decent routine, though.”
“Be a while before that happens.”
“Yeah, I know.” Sean took a breath. “Jens stopped by my office on Friday. Big news.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s retiring.”
“Wow.” Viggo lay his book facedown on the couch. “Wow. He’s been with MBT since...what? Sixty-seven, sixty-eight?”
Sean nodded and blew on his tea. “Sixty-eight, I think. Hard to imagine Jens as a kid.”
“Tell me about it. I bet he was a serious grown-up in the crib.” Viggo smiled, the first genuine smile Sean had seen in days. “What’s he going to do?”
“He and Patricia are moving to someplace in the Poconos. East...Stroudsburg or sommat like that. It’s an hour or so from here. I guess she inherited some Victorian house there, and she’s keen to start renovating. Jens is actually looking forward to it, or so he says. Wants to get out of the city. I envy them the garden space, I suppose.” Sean shook his head.
“End of an era,” Viggo proclaimed. “When does he want to leave?”
“Their lease is up in December, and I think they want to be there for Christmas.”
Viggo gave a low whistle. “That’s soon.”
“Yeah, but at least he didn’t give me two weeks’ notice and blow town,” Sean replied. “Anyway, Vig, I’ve been thinking. We need a ballet master now, and I was wondering if you’d be up for the job.”
Viggo stared at Sean. “Me.”
“Yeah. I think you’d be fantastic.” Sean warmed to his subject. “I can’t do both jobs. Besides, the kids love you, and you can command their respect. And you wouldn’t have to be fully healed to do it, either. You could help me with casting, I could help you with choreography – it’d be a brilliant partnership. And once you’re fully healed, you can go on dancing.” He went on in that vein for a bit until he realized that Viggo’s face was carefully blank. He frowned. “Isn’t it something you might want to do?”
A full minute passed without Viggo saying a word. Finally, a thin smile twisted his mouth upward. “This isn’t the ballet version of a pity fuck, is it?”
The reply, full of scorn, hit Sean in the gut. For a few seconds he sat in stunned silence. Then a sickening anger coiled around him and constricted. He fought to contain a caustic retort, and it was the hardest fight of his life. Not knowing what else to do, he stood up. “I thought it might be something you’d want, Vig. Of course you’re not obliged to take it. Sorry I asked.”
He turned and left the room, abandoning his cooling tea and fleeing Viggo’s contempt.
*
They were near the last of the summer tomatoes, which was sad. There was no substitute for a home-grown tomato, no matter how much D’Agostino’s charged for their small hothouse things. Sean put a basket aside for Mrs. Westin below them. Half of what he gave her she ate, half went into a fantastic handmade chutney that Viggo poured over rice and chicken.
Sean frowned and struck savagely at the earth with his spade. The only solution for his mood was to work and get his hands really dirty. He stacked a few cucumbers beside Mrs. Westin’s tomatoes and turned to the sugar snap peas. He plucked one off the vine, dusted it off on his shirt, and popped it in his mouth. It was delicious, sweet and crisp, the best he’d raised yet.
A faint thumping signified Viggo’s slow ascent of the garden stairs. Sean picked up his spade again and turned the earth, affecting total absorption in his task. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Viggo lower himself onto the lounger, obviously waiting for Sean to turn around. Sean shrugged inwardly and set his spade down to harvest the last of the pea pods.
“I’m sorry,” Viggo said softly.
Sean stiffened. “It’s no bother.” He popped another pea pod into his mouth and crunched as fiercely as if he’d been eating rocks.
“I didn’t mean to be so...such an asshole.”
Sean turned around, still on his knees. Viggo was staring at the ground, looking miserable, but Sean wasn’t exactly dancing for joy himself. “It wasn’t a pity fuck, Vig.”
“I know.” Viggo didn’t look up. “I know that. I’ve been...it’s weird. Before you came back home, I was doing okay. Therapy was going pretty good, I was keeping myself busy...and then you came back, and you were so goddamn happy to see me, and you’re running all over the place, busy with a million things –“
“Oh, Jesus.” A tide of remorse swamped Sean, and he sat back on his heels. He wanted to rush to Viggo’s side, but Viggo’s tense posture indicated that he wasn’t ready to be touched or held. “I didn’t mean to – I should have –“
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Viggo said. “I was just pissed off. And pig-jealous. That first night....” He shook his head. “It was like the rest of my life was passing me by. A year’s a long fucking time for a dancer, you know?”
I’m an idiot. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“I thought I was used to the idea.” Viggo turned his lightweight metal cane over in his hands. “But when I saw you all...able-bodied, I got angry all over again. I didn’t want you touching me, or feeling sorry for me.” He looked up at Sean. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. I know it wasn’t a pity fuck. I didn't mean that, and I shouldn't have said it.”
Viggo’s body was still tense. Fuck that. Sean crawled over and wrapped his arms around Viggo, ignoring the slight resistance. “Vig, I’m sorry.” Gradually, the stiffness melted, and Viggo rested his head against Sean’s shoulder. Sean felt a faint wetness against his collarbone, and kissed behind Viggo’s ear. “I don’t want you to be angry at me. I know it’s fucking selfish, but I can’t stand it.” Sean held Viggo tightly, waiting for Viggo’s liberated tide of emotion to subside, knowing he wouldn’t be ready to speak until it did. At last, he pulled away and brushed his thumb over Viggo’s scar. “You want a pea pod?”
Viggo smiled. “Sure.” He accepted the pod and munched on it, staring out at the hazy August twilight. “I’ll take the job.”
“No,” Sean replied hastily. “I can find someone else to do it. I can do it myself until I find a replacement. Jens isn’t leaving until December anyway.”
Viggo shook his head. “I want it.” He held up a hand to forestall any protests. “I need to work. I need to be back at MBT. If my tendon doesn’t heal right, I’m going to need a job anyway.”
“You can think about it,” Sean said. “You’ve got time.”
“Okay. Deal.” Viggo stuck out his hand, and Sean shook it. He put his arms around Sean’s neck. “You know, I have a lot to make up to you.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, I’ve been such a crabby bastard.” He gave Sean an appetizing smile. “Maybe we could start over.”
Gently, Sean disentangled Viggo’s arms from around his neck. Then he bent and slid one hand beneath Viggo’s thighs, the other round his back, and hoisted him up. Viggo let out a graceless squawk. “I didn’t hurt your leg, did I?” Sean asked anxiously.
Viggo laughed and hooked an arm around Sean’s neck. “No. Do I weigh a lot?”
“I don’t think I could lift you over my head,” Sean grunted.
“Too bad.” Viggo’s tone was arch.
“Well...I could try, anyway.” Sean started down the stairs carefully. God, it felt good to hold him again.
“My hero.”
*
picture by
govi20My table is here
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-04-15 06:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-15 03:26 pm (UTC)I'm so glad they've made up, and silently pleased that I was right about the route to Viggo's new job. *G*
You SO were. You may have noticed I didn't respond to that bit of your feedback. I skated around it, la la la, can't tell. So, well guessed! :D
I'm fretting too....
no subject
Date: 2009-04-15 08:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-15 03:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-15 07:14 pm (UTC)There's really a lot of deep true love in your words, baby!!
Viggo's feelings , his jealousy and anger are so human , he's so sadly wrapped up in his pain that can't help pushing away Sean's care.
And I find Sean is such a tender and sweet lover for his Viggo : it's simply moving his fight against his own temper trying not to give in to his rage!
"You want a pea pod?"
That's lovely, Alex!! Absolutely adorable!
Love you!
Anto
no subject
Date: 2009-04-15 09:29 pm (UTC)I'm so glad to hear that. It actually made me a little weepy to write - perhaps it's not so bad that I'm really invested in this pairing. :)
They're so good together, those two. And I'm glad you liked the pea pod. ;D
xoxoxo
no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 01:06 am (UTC)