Of course, wasn't like he'd really been looking, wasn't like he even really wanted anyone else. He'd had the best, why settle, why go back? Yeah, he'd dated, sure, he'd had some fun, but no one had touched him. No one had made his soul ache. And he still thought of Viggo every time he heard Stabbing Westward on the radio. And thought about how he'd put on "Darkest Days" just before dawn that night and had proceeded to pleasure Viggo as thoroughly as he possibly could, starting with his toes and ending in shattering kisses just as the last song played. Hopefully Dom had been able to give that to Viggo, at least, give him a good memory to think about when he listened to the CD these days. But he'd never had the courage to ask in all the times they'd all been together since then. He'd kept his distance, polite, yet friendly, during the Fellowship publicity rounds and the Towers reshooting they'd done in June. And Viggo had done the same. They'd acted like nothing had happened...except Viggo's eyes had followed Dom a bit more, and Dom sometimes held Viggo a bit longer when they'd hugged for the cameras. And here they were again, one more press junket, one more premiere. L.A. this time. If anything, anticipation for "Two Towers" was even higher than for "Fellowship", so the publicity rounds had been particularly brutal, particularly long. Dom wanted nothing more than to crawl inside his bed and sleep for a week, but that wasn't even an option until after awards season was over. Ah well, at least he'd actually get to sleep in his own bed tonight. As he walked onto the red carpet at the Arclight, he noted he was, once again, the last to arrive. Waved to Dave and Peter, who were talking to a seemingly endless supply of reporters. Hugged Karl and Orlando, mugged it up for the cameras that were still relentlessly focused on them. Traded good-natured insults with Lij and Astin, promised to come by Astin's house the next day to see the kids. Linked his arms with Billy as they made their way through the press line and to their seats. Tried to ignore Viggo, ignore the visceral pull, the dull ache that he felt when he caught sight of pale blue eyes, a lean body and a self-deprecating smile. Dom had to move on...it would kill him otherwise. "Holdin' up alright?" Billy asked, softly, the hand on the small of Dom's back comforting. "Yeah." Bless Billy for being there, the best friend a man could have. Only Billy knew what it cost Dom every time Dom saw Viggo. Only Billy knew about what had happened that perfect, painful night. Billy hugged Dom to him. "Well, I'm here, you know... Hey, Vig." Viggo nodded to Billy, rested his gaze on Dom. Perfect... Christ, Viggo was so fucking perfect. Intense, moody, damaged, wry...he was everything Dom wanted, everything he'd spent the last two years trying to convince himself he didn't need. Dom managed a small smile, hoped his heart wasn't completely in his eyes. "I'll be right back," Billy said, disentangling himself from Dom. Dom gave him a look of reproach, but Billy just raised an eyebrow and walked away. Why would Billy leave him alone with Viggo? Alone with Viggo, who'd moved a bit closer, tall, lean body almost brushing against Dom's, heat radiating from his very pores. Dom struggled to maintain his breathing, fought against the urge to slide his hand along Viggo's hip, to close the small distance between them. "Can I borrow you for a minute after the movie?" Viggo asked. Dom tried not to sigh at the soft words whispered so intimately in his ear. Viggo was standing too close, warm breath on his neck sending shivers down his spine, the heat from Viggo's body making him shake inside. He had no idea what Viggo wanted, but he hoped it was something simple, something quick. Anything else would push his resolve to its limits. Anything else and he might beg for another night...and the begging would destroy their fragile friendship. "Sure," Dom replied, clearing his throat. He looked up into Viggo's piercing blue eyes and was trapped. Viggo always saw too much, knew too much -- his eyes were too focused, too perceptive. Dom always felt like Viggo could see straight into his soul, knew he was still hopelessly in love with Viggo, knew he'd never stopped, wasn't capable of stopping. "I got a room at The Standard for the night. Room 1214." Dom nodded again, not even trusting himself to speak this time. Alone, in a hotel room with Viggo. This was such a bad idea. * * * This was a horrible idea. Viggo paced the small confines of his hotel room, resisted the urge to check his watch again. Why the fuck had he thought he could do this? It had been two years -- Dom had no doubt moved on. Viggo knew Dom had been living with Elijah, had seen how close Dom and Orlando had grown, knew that either one of them would be so much better suited to Dom's pure spirit than anything his less-than-perfect soul had to offer. But he couldn't stop thinking about that night, about soft moans breathed into his mouth, about a lithe body trembling under his unsteady hands, about pleasure given and received in the same instant, heartbeats so aligned that Viggo hadn't been able to tell whose was pounding faster. Viggo remembered every sigh, every kiss, every brush of hands on skin. But mostly, he remembered feeling cleansed. For the first time in forever, Viggo had woken up at peace, without nightmares, without regrets over his entire bitter, wasted life. The only thing that had dimmed his joy was that he'd woken up alone. He'd always wondered why Dom hadn't stayed, if he'd felt like he needed to give Viggo space or if he simply hadn't wanted to be there when the sun crept through the windows. Viggo thought he might have liked waking up with Dom, bringing him to slow awareness with kisses and gentle touches. Gentle wasn't something Viggo knew a whole lot about, but he'd wanted to be gentle with Dom. Viggo stopped, checked his watch, ran his hand over his chin. He should shave -- funny that he didn't care about shaving for the cameras or publicity shots, but he wanted to do it for Dom. He was worse than a teenage virgin on prom night -- all raw nerves and shaking anticipation of things to come, too scared to really hope, but the emotion bubbled in him, unstoppable. The sharp knock on the door ricocheted throughout the room like a bullet. Viggo stiffened, took in a very long breath, ran his fingers through his hair, before walking over and opening the door. It shouldn't be possible for Dom to look even better than he had earlier, but he did. With his tie loosened and his jacket off and his spiky hair a bit mussed, Dom looked the perfect picture of casual cool. He made Viggo's heart stop. "Hey." His voice was a bit huskier than usual. Dom stuffed his hands in his pockets, peered up at Viggo through lowered lashes, pure gray eyes curious and apprehensive. "You wanted to see me?" "Yeah. Come on in." Viggo opened the door a bit, but didn't move, forced Dom to brush by him. He inhaled Dom's clean scent, felt the heat of Dom's lean body, and ached. And, God help him, he hoped. Dom stopped in the middle of the room, looked around for a place to sit that wasn't the bed, settled for the silver beanbag chair. "So, what's going on?" he asked, looking around the room, rubbing his hands along his slacks. Viggo noticed Dom focused on everything except him. "You...ah...want a drink or something?" Viggo gestured to the mini- fridge. Dom shook his head. "No. Thanks, though." An awkward silence descended, and Viggo forgot everything he wanted to say. He only wanted to cross the room and tug Dom out of that stupid beanbag and into his arms, tumble them both on the bed. "How've you been?" Viggo winced the second he'd said the words. God, he'd just seen Dom three days ago in New York. Dom blinked. "I'm fine." He gazed at Viggo curiously, waiting. "And you?" "I'm...um...you know, I'm better." And it was true. Had been a bit better ever since that night, although other things had helped. "That's great." Dom smiled, a genuine smile full of warmth that had Viggo smiling in return. He'd missed this -- missed the easy openness they'd had with each other so long ago. Viggo held that friendly gaze, smiled back for a minute longer, soaking the sunshine that radiated from Dom's soul. "I've missed you." The words spilled out, awkward, unscripted. "Missed me?" Dom's smile turned into a small frown of puzzlement, tiny furrows appearing between his eyes. "We see each other all the time." But they didn't, not really. That night stood between them, infecting everything. They'd both gambled so much on a few hours spent in sublime pleasure, and both had lost. Viggo could see that now, see what it cost both of them to pretend things were normal, things were okay. They weren't. They'd never be okay. It didn't matter that Viggo had been as careful as he'd known how to be, he still ended up tainting Dom and Dom ended up tainting him. They'd never be free of each other. But that might not be such a bad thing. It was time to gamble again, find out if they could be free with each other. "You, ah, remember how much I liked that Stabbing Westward CD, right?" Viggo asked, sitting across from Dom on the corner of the bed. Dom nodded, plucked the fabric of his slacks with nervous fingers. "Yeah." "Well, I met them awhile back." Viggo could sense Dom's confusion, prayed he'd hold Dom's interest long enough to get to his point. "And the lead singer, Chris Hall, and I...we, um..." how to explain this to Dom? "...we ended up getting drunk and I told him about...us." Viggo's voice failed him on the last word. "Oh." Dom lowered his eyes to his hands, gripped his knees, slim body emanating tension. "I didn't mean to," Viggo continued, hastening to reassure, to comfort. "I just wanted to tell him about "Darkest Days," thank him for helping me...and somehow we got on the subject of you." "And what did you tell him?" Dom asked, head still bent, voice so soft that Viggo had to lean in to hear him. "I told him..." Viggo gazed at the top of Dom's head, longed to run his fingers through that unruly, spiky hair, longed to gather Dom in his arms and simply hold him, heal him, maybe heal them both. "I told him I'd found an angel and wasn't strong enough to keep him pure." Dom's head snapped up, the look on his face one of surprise. He started forward, caught himself, the grip on his knees turning his knuckles white. "I'm not an angel, Vig. And I wasn't that night, either." "I know, but that's how I saw you. I was poison in all of my relationships, tainted beyond repair." Viggo held Dom's gaze, didn't waver, didn't move, was afraid that, if he broke eye contact, he'd lose something precious, something rare. "And then I met you...and I met Bean...and..." how to explain the slow transformation, the almost day-by-day miracle that had occurred? "...things just changed." "Changed how?" Dom asked, softly. "I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that our night together made me whole." Viggo didn't want Dom to have that kind of pressure on him, and, in any case, it wouldn't be true. "I think we both know better than that. But you helped. And time helped. And the whole New Zealand experience helped. And my friendship with Bean helped." Viggo took a shuddering breath, and took the gamble, praying his luck would hold. "And I think now I might be better, ready to try something, if it's not too late. Is it too late?" Viggo felt Dom's eyes search his own, and he let Dom in, let him see everything, let him inside all the cracks and crevices and dark places of his soul. It wasn't pretty, would never be pretty, but it was his...and he would gladly share it with Dom, if that was what Dom wanted. Dom slithered out of the beanbag on his knees, moved toward Viggo, stopped in between Viggo's legs. Viggo was caught again in open, beautiful gray eyes, and a shy smile that shone with light and hope and wonder. "It could never be too late," Dom told him, placing a slim hand on top of his own. "I would have waited a lifetime for you." The soft, sincerely spoken words loosened a knot in Viggo's chest, and he took the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. He slid down on his knees in front of Dom, finally cupped Dom's cheeks between his fingers, his touch reverential. He wanted so badly to get this right, to be everything Dom needed him to be. "What about...?" "About?" Dom's hands smoothed up Viggo's thighs as he leaned into Viggo's touch, the gesture sensual to the extreme. "I know you and Lij have grown close." Viggo wouldn't take Dom from anyone else, would be content just to be Dom's friend, if that was all he could get. "Despite all the rumors to the contrary, Lij and I were never shagging," Dom said, kissing the tips of Viggo's fingers, smiling when Viggo shuddered. "Don't think he's gay anyway...bi, maybe. But if he is, if he was experimenting, it certainly wasn't with me." It was all Viggo needed to know. His lips were on Dom's the next instant, moving and shaping, relearning and asserting. Dom's warm lips conformed to his, soft tongue twined with his, breath mingling, hands clasping each other's as they kissed. It was everything Viggo remembered and a few new things. It was clean and real and flawless -- and so passionate its heat brought tears to Viggo's eyes. "So long..." "Too long," Dom agreed, brushing his mouth against Viggo's, leaning into him. Dom's chest burned into his, the heat spreading a slow fire in Viggo's blood. "Will you have faith in me?" Viggo asked the words along the velvet skin of Dom's jaw. Dom's answer was immediate, if somewhat breathless. "I've always had faith in you. Always." Viggo captured Dom's lips in another kiss, this one bruising, demanding. Full of dark passion and twisted need, decimating sight and sound and everything else until there was only Dom gripping Viggo's back as he returned Viggo's kiss with everything in him, only lips and teeth and tongues and dominion and desperation and need. No holding back. Just two bodies straining toward each other, just two mouths fused together, just two sets of hands marking and scraping, getting rid of unneeded clothing until there was only bare skin between them, naked flesh to explore and take. They broke the kiss on a groan, both panting, chests heaving with exertion. Viggo pulled Dom up and onto the bed, covered him with his own body, relishing the slim, muscled body beneath him. "I want to wake up with you." Every word was punctuated with slow kisses and nibbles on Dom's lower lip. "Sounds great." Dom's hands were busy trying to touch as much of Viggo's back as he possibly could. He shifted restlessly under Viggo, eyes hazy with need. "And I want more than one night." Viggo groaned the words against Dom's chest, running his tongue along Dom's sternum, tasting and teasing. "All of them." Dom tugged on Viggo's hair until their gazes met. And Viggo saw in Dom's eyes everything he ever wanted to see. "You can have all of them." As far as promises went, it was a good start.
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