The tension was thicker than ever before. Only a handful of people knew the real thruth, but the tension between those people proved to be contagious. Very happy to be done for the night, Sean was on his way back to the house he was sharing with Viggo. Following the now familiar route, his green eyes had a far-away look to them. Things were starting to get out of hand. It wasn't like he had ever been in control of this, whatever 'this' was between Viggo and him. But now it wasn't just the two of them anymore.
If it had only been the two of them... Just Viggo and he, away from everything else, everyone else. He appreciated the concern from Ian and the rest of them, but he didn't need it. And he didn't need to worry about them as well.
Entering the house, he found it dark, fitting his mood. Slipping out of the leather coat, he threw it onto a chair. It really belonged to Viggo, which made it too big for him, but Sean liked it that way. Made him feel closer to the darkhaired man. The silence in the house made him stop and wonder a little. Viggo was usually home waiting for him if he needed to be out at night. The faint sound of voices made Sean stop. The unexpected sounds made the blond look towards the bed room. He wondered briefly how he'd missed the light in the first place. Then he started walking tentatively towards the bed room.
Inside the spacious room, only the lamp by the bed was lit.
"There you are, sweetheart." Viggo's voice was relaxed, warm and sounding amused. "We were waiting for you."
He was laying on his back on the double bed, only dressed in a pair of jeans. The shirt he had worn earlier was tossed carelessly to the floor.
"Oh, I'd like to introduce you to Mark," a hand was waved in the direction of the strange darkhaired man in the bed. "We met in town earlier."
Mark was laying across the bed at Viggo's feet, the muscular shape of his body clad in light pants. The handsome face was dominated by a set of green-blue eyes, the colour a hybrid between Viggo's own and Sean's. A slow, appreciative smile lit up his face. "Oh my, Viggo... He certainly is pretty, just as you said."
Viggo smiled. "Now would I lie to you? Although," he turned to look at Sean who still was standing just inside of the door, his face unreadable. "He's usually a bit more talkative than this... Surely you're not feeling shy, my dear?" He noted with satisfaction the burn in the bright, green eyes. "Now be a good boy and say hello to Mark."
Mark was getting up. "Oh yes, I am going to enjoy this." Looking over his shoulder, he added: "Not that I didn't enjoy you as much, Viggo, but I do like blondes...." Directing his gaze at Sean, he walked closer to the smaller man.
Very slowly Sean took his eyes off Viggo and looked at Mark.
"Touch me and I'll rip your fucking arm right off."
Backing away, Mark gave a nervous smile. "Viggo, I don't think your little friend here wants to play with me."
Viggo had sat up as well. "Shawn, that's no way to treat our guest... I think I taught you better than that."
"I can't believe you." The voice was too calm for Viggo's liking. Except for the fire in the emerald eyes and the prior outburst, Sean looked as together as ever before. Viggo needed to do something about that. Slowly he got out of the bed, strolling over to Sean. The younger man stayed where he was.
"Sweetheart...now, I know you have better manners than this. After all, Mark has been very eager to meet you. And I do think you'll enjoy..meeting...him too." His words were met by silence. Mark was starting to look a bit more nervous by now.
The silence lasted. Viggo made another attempt to earn a reaction from the blond, all the time keeping his observant gaze on the younger man's face.
"Dearest, are you disobeying me?" The voice was slow, holding an obvious warning. "One should really think you knew better than that by now... But I'll give you one more chance. I suggest you take it, Sean."
"No."
The short word was enough. "Mark is leaving now." Seeing the darkhaired man hesitate, Sean shot him a look full of barely controlled rage. "You leave now, you hear me? Now!"
The silence fell again as they were left in the room alone. Green eyes locked with blue as the two men stood facing each other.
Sean broke the silence first. "I can't believe you, Viggo," he repeated. "Of all the sick, twisted things I would have expected from you...hell, what I have already taken from you..." Running both hands through his short hair, he almost smiled. "And you go ahead and do this! The only thing I could never explain away."
The anger came in waves, the rage only simmering now as tears gave their own glitter to eyes holding a multitude of emotions.
"The one thing I can't forgive you."
"You don't mean that." To his own dismay, Viggo all of a sudden felt insecure and took a step closer. Immediately Sean took a step back.
"Don't."
"Don't you tell me what to do!" Viggo stalked over to the shorter man, only to be forcefully pushed away.
"I said don't touch me!" Before Viggo could react, Sean had moved out of his reach, standing next to the double glass doors leading out to the back porch.
Losing his patience, Viggo grabbed hold of Sean's arm. "You stay right here!" he snarled. "Don't forget who's setting the rules here."
Sean drew back. "Oh no, don't you be afraid of that. You made that really clear, didn't you?" His voice was laced with pure venom. Seeing Viggo's face, he laughed. "Didn't expect me to actually talk back, did you? Didn't expect your little angel to not do what you had instructed..."
Viggo's fingers ran through his hair, the hand fisting in the blonde locks. "Be careful, my precious..." Letting go of Sean's hair, he let his hand slide to the shorter man's cheek.
"I own you."
"The hell you do."
The slap over his face was hard enough to make Sean stumble back.
"You're nothing without me."
Sean smiled, shaking his head. "No. I'm nothing with you, Viggo. Which," the smile grew, "makes you a failure as well, doesn't it?" The next hit had him reeling even further back. "Seems that the only thing you know how to do is to slap me around."
"I wouldn't have to do that if you remembered how to behave. You really do seem to have forgotten all your manners, dearest."
"That's too bad."
"It certainly is. I believe I need to teach you your place again." Crossing his arms over his chest, Viggo innocently smiled. He knew that Sean was well aware of what the meaning of that smile was, the emotions was far too easily read in green depths of his eyes. "I'm sure Mark will be more than happy to help me re-install some of the dicipline you seem to be lacking." At the mention of the name, he could see the other's body tensing up.
"I was just telling him about you, before you came in. He was most eager to give you a try. Maybe we'll even share you."
The words was rewarded with a sweet smile. "In your dreams."
"Exactly." Touching his fingers to Sean's chin, Viggo grinned. "First you'll apologize in your own, sweet way. Then...well, we'll get to that. I am positive that you can think of something to make it up to us by. After all, you are quite imaginative when you put your mind to it. So no more tantrums, ok?"
The sweet smile stayed in place. "Tantrums? Oh, sweetheart, you haven't seen anything yet!" Turning, Sean curled his right hand into a fist. Then he slammed his hand through the glass door. Like a spider's web tiny cracks multiplied from the impact, the force shattering them into a minitiatyre storm of shimmering shards. Falling away they left the intruder pass, trapping it inside of razor egded peaks of broken glass.
It didn't hurt. He just watched the uneven glass around his wrist and upper arm. Several shards of glass were pooling at his feet. The anger having left him completely, Sean retracted his arm, wincing as the glass scraped over his skin.
"Sean..." Viggo's voice was nothing like he had ever heard it before. The older man sounded scared. If he hadn't felt so strangely detatched, Sean might have found it funny.
"Sean, you're..."
"I'm what?" Pain was kind enough to ease up on him, giving small warnings of what was inevitably coming.
"You're bleeding. Your arm..."
Looking down on his right arm, Sean frowned. "Oh."
There seemed to be a large cut on his forearm, blood flowing in generous amounts.
"I've..." Reaching for the doorknobs, Sean pushed the doors open. "I've gotta go."
"Sean, no!" Viggo reached for him, the glass on the floor forcing him to stop. "Wait, Sean, this is crazy! Oh damn it all to hell..." Rushing to retrieve his sandals, he turned back to find the doorway empty. He was all alone.
Realising that the night really wasn't that young anymore, Ian found himself on his way back to the house he was currently residing in. Standing in front of the door, he noticed it slightly ajar, the sight producing a small frown on his face. He never did lock the door, confident that there always were people around to spot anyone who didn't belong in the area. The lack of light made him miss the darkened spot on the door knob, he only discovered as it felt damp and slick underneath his fingers.
Pushing the door open, Ian entered, the bright light of the hallway a stark contrast to the moonlit night outside. He stopped, letting his eyes adjust. Then he spotted the small stains on the floor. Carefully he lifted his hand to examine what was on his palm, already knowing it was the same substance that was on the floor boards.
"Damn." The word was a mere breath. "It's blood."
He followed the trail of deep crimson stains over the floor of the hallway, continuing into the living room, finally leading him to face the back wall. His gaze slid over the smooth surface in what felt like slow motion, a million different thoughts fighting for the same place inside his mind. The sound of his steps seemed to echo in the unaturally silent room, even the sound of his breathing seemed too loud. In a matter of seconds he was kneeling next to the figure sitting curled up on the floor, his back against the wall. The blonde head was bent, as one arm was cradled against his chest, the other arm around his drawn-up knees.
Gently Ian let his hand brush through the damp locks of hair. There was more blood on the floor here, still warm and wet.
"I'm sorry, Ian." The weak voice startled the older man. "I shouldn't have come here... But I didn't know where else to go."
"It's ok, it's ok," Ian soothed him, still stroking the blonde hair of the man in front of him. "You know I'm always here for you, don't you, Sean? Just talk to me, what happened?" Where is all this blood coming from? his mind wanted to ask, but he didn't yet, afraid of the answer.
At first he thought he wasn't going to get an answer, but then he felt Sean give a small sigh. "Viggo...he... We had a fight, I took off..." There was a pause before Sean continued, his voice weary and low. "He wanted me to stay, but I couldn't... Not like that."
"You did the right thing." Ian had let his hand move to the back of the younger man's neck, finding the skin cold and clammy. "Sean, I need you to tell me where the blood is coming from. I need to know if you are hurt."
"I cut my arm." This time the words were whispered. "It's bleeding kinda much...I'm making a mess, sorry."
The situation was surreal enough to put a smile on Ian's face. "Don't you worry about that, love. The floors needed cleaning anyway..." Stopping himself before he could rattle on, he cupped Sean's face in his hands, trying to make the sitting man look at him. "We need to get you to a hospital, Sean."
"No." Ian was straining to make out the words now. "No hospital... I'm fine..."
"Yeah, sure you are. You're bleeding to death on my goddamn living room floor, that's what you are. I am not going to argue with you about this, Sean. You need a doctor, so we're going to see one."
"No..." Sean tried to pull away, but lacked the strength to move anywhere at all. Almost losing his balance he had to use one hand to support himself, revealing the soaked-through shirt and the open gash on his right forearm, still oozing blood.
Not really sure about the whole religion thing anymore, Ian still felt like crossing himself at the sheer amount of blood. Pushing himself up, his voice was raw from worry and now fading shock. "I need to find something to wrap your arm with." A kitchen towel from the hanger by the sink in the kitchen made for a make-shift bandage, the whiteness of the cotton becoming eaten away by red at an alarming speed. Making sure that the fabric was wrapped tightly around Sean's arm, Ian sat back again. "Now we're going to the hospital. I've got a car right outside."
Again Sean shook his head. "No, Ian, no hospitals. Not supposed to know....can't..."
Ian never heard the door opening or the footsteps leading into the living room. Looking up at the movement next to him, he was stunned to find Viggo kneeling next to him, his green-blue eyes fixed on Sean.
"Go start the car, Ian. I'll talk to him."