"Luckily, we don't have to go out in it," Viggo replied, settling back into his chair. Remnants of dinner still remained on the table -- Thai chicken and glass noodles. Sean didn't normally care for Oriental food, but Vig's homemade peanut sauce had been both spicy and full of flavor. "Okay, what's on your mind?" Sean smiled, took a long sip of wine. "Thanks for inviting me over." "Mi casa, su casa." "Bet you say that to all the lads." Viggo's eyes were pure, crystalline, reflected the next flash of lightning with something...eerie...seductive. "No, actually, I don't," he said, voice mild. "Dessert?" "Yeah, alright." Sean accepted the change in topic, even though he wondered about the flicker. Wondered why he was wondering. "I'll go put another CD in." "Help yourself." Viggo waved off Sean's attempt to help clean the table, gently pushed him in the direction of the living room. Sean stood in front of Viggo's CD rack, flipping through this disc and that. Pondered the look. Wondered if perhaps he could find a clue in Viggo's taste in music. It was just as eclectic, as mysterious, as the man himself. Intermezzo in A Minor by Mozart next to Enjoy Incubus. A mixture of the classic and the new -- old-fashioned progression. "Find anything?" Viggo asked, strolling into the living room with two slices of strawberry-saturated cheesecake. "Thought we could eat out here. The light's better," he added. Sean wondered if that made sense in Viggo's world. Wondered about getting a ticket to visit it so he'd know what Viggo meant when he spoke. When he looked. Didn't know why it was so important that he get Viggo. "Here's fine." Warm fingers brushed against his as Viggo passed a plate to him. The shock of the toes rocked him to his toes. Had Vig...? A quick glance at Viggo's transfixed expression told him all he needed to know. Sean set his plate and glass on the coffee table, kept his eyes on Viggo's hands, noticed the slight shaking as Viggo set his own plate down. Sean wondered...leaned forward, captured Viggo's lips before he could complete the thought. Warm. Tasted peanuts and wine. Soft, soft lips...and they were completely still under his. Sean pulled back, cursed himself. Stupid. "Sorry. Mistranslation." Viggo's hand shot out, grabbed his when he made a move to leave. "Stop. I didn't..." Paused. "You surprised me," he finally stated, blue eyes looking into green. "I didn't want to ruin things. This --" Sean pointed between himself and Viggo "-- this is more important." "Why did you kiss me, then?" Viggo asked, voice low. Sean fought the urge to lower his head. He was too old to evade, far too old to pretend he didn't know what Viggo was really asking. "I thought you might be receptive." "Alright." Viggo gazed back at Sean for a long moment, eyes searching for...something. Must've found it, because he smiled, the corners of his mouth curving slightly -- the sweetest thing Sean had seen all day. "So, let's try again and I'll be more receptive." "We don't have to --" "Sean." The one word stilled the rest of his words. "Come here." Sean stepped forward, feeling suddenly awkward. What the hell was he doing, anyway? What had made him think this was such a good idea? He relaxed a bit when Viggo's hand closed over his hip. Not moving. Not groping. Just...there. Warm and rough and fitting the curve of muscle perfectly. "Let's try again," Viggo breathed, and it was his turn to press his lips to Sean's. But, unlike the first time, neither one of them stayed still. They each responded, moved with the kiss, and Sean tilted his head so Viggo could slip his tongue past parted lips. Lazy. Sweet. Perfect. * * * Sean stretched, spine popping back into place; rolled his neck to get out all of the kinks. Watched Viggo do his own stretch out of the corner of his eye -- admired the grace, the lean form. "Thanks for dessert," he said, softly. "We never had it," Viggo reminded him. Sean glanced back at the rumpled sheets, winked when Viggo grinned in understanding. "Yeah. We did."
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