Frozen Lives: Entirely False

... Who art way too far away in Heaven...

Sun, 01 Jun 2008 23:21:35 GMT

So now I know that I can't kill myself. Interesting to know, if not at all comforting.

Also I'm a wreck.

Also I can't even provoke a demon to kill me. It fed me pizza, for god's sake.

Okay, you got it. I'm on my face, in the dirt, back scarred and covered with blood, and all I ask is that you fucking tell me what I'm doing here. That's not too much to ask, dammit.

Tell me. Tell me!

Tell me, or I'll... hell. I'll just keep on the way I'm going, til I'm some crazy homeless man talking to angels and demons on street corners. And oh, how I'll glorify You then.

Just sayin'.

Our Father

Sat, 24 May 2008 06:50:37 GMT

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

I'm sinning right this moment, in fact, because I don't believe you're reading this. I don't believe you know my thoughts, my dreams, my pain. Yet I serve you as best I know how, here in this place. Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound. I know. I haven't forgotten your words.

Have you forgotten mine?

Moth to Flame

Sun, 27 Apr 2008 19:06:33 GMT

The more I try and stay away from the Babylon, the more I find myself drawn to it. I don't want to go there. The desperate despair of the place is suffocating if I try to block it off and relentlessly draining if I don't.

But it's there that I'm supposed to be. What I'm doing at the mission I could do at any mission in any city anywhere. There's something about the Babylon, some reason I'm supposed to be there....

Please, tell me what it is so I can start work on it and get past the failures I've already had here.

Waiting

Mon, 21 Apr 2008 03:33:30 GMT

I spend far more time at the Mission now than I do at the Babylon... or anywhere else on the Strip, for that matter. At the Mission, what I do matters on a deeply visceral level. A person is hungry? I can give them food. They're cold? The Mission offers warmth. They're lost and adrift? We can give them shelter.

Father, how very many are hungry and cold. How many are homeless and unemployed and overlooked by every system. If a nation truly is to be judged by how it treats its weak and helpless, this nation will have literal hell to pay.

My knack for languages comes in handy here. I wouldn't go so far as to claim true fluency in anything but English, Spanish and Danish, I can easily pick up enough of most languages to be understood in a pidgin sort of way. It's damned helpful, as we serve nearly as many Spanish speakers as English speakers. And then there are the Southeast Asians, speaking a multitude of different tongues, and showing up more and more often at our doorstep.

I may need to make a trip to Southeast Asia sometime soon, see if I can pick up a little Vietnamese, Cambodian, Laotian, Hmong, and a dozen others.

I keep busy so I don't have too much time to think, because every time I do start to idly think my thoughts circle immediately back to the question of Hugh. And on that front, I'm as confused as it's possible for a man... or angel... to be.

Tea and Photographs

Mon, 07 Apr 2008 04:23:31 GMT

Hugh had emailed Viggo earlier and set this appointment for the end of his day, which was after the sun went down. He was trying to keep busy - and he did indulge in Viggo's magic sleeping pills the night before - he had to, the alcohol wasn't working. He was in jeans and a black sweater, messenger bag over his shoulder - all business, when he knocked on Viggo's door.

Viggo told himself he wasn't nervous about having Hugh over again. Nothing irretrieveable had gone wrong a few nights ago, right? But damn. Hugh.

Vig didn't like to admit that pure animal attraction could get the best of him, but ... damn. So he intentionally hadn't dressed any better than usual. Not that he actually could do much better than usual. But for tonight it was his least raggedy jeans, a Monty Python hoodie and, of course, bare feet.

He wondered if Hugh would be able to feel the warding he'd placed around the house after the encounter with the demon. He wondered.... oh hell, answer the door. He pulled the door open and smiled. "Hey. C'mon in."

Hugh did feel something around the house but it seemed to welcome him. He smiled. "Hey, thanks for seeing me this late." He stepped in, and looked down - god - how was it possible for a man to have sexy feet? "I gotta lose the shoes right?" He smiled.

"Not if it makes you uncomfortable," Viggo said, closing the door firmly behind Hugh and locking it with a soft murmur and a finger-drawn ward.

Hugh caught that and felt safer instantly, He toed off his loafers and dropped his bag. "So.. pictures.. how do they look? I tried the oil itself.. it's wonderful.."

"I'm too biased to be a good judge," Viggo said, glad to move straight to business. God, he wanted to..... behave himself. That's what he wanted. "C'mon in and take a look." Moving to the second always-closed door, he gestured Hugh inside and closed the door immediately behind him.

The apartment's single bedroom had been transformed into a darkroom. Water trickled and chemicals stung the eyes, but only a bit, and at the moment everything was in the weird reddish tone on tone of a safelight.

"I'll get the light on in..." Viggo glanced at a timer hanging from a line strung across the room. "... about a minute and a half." He waved a hand at everything. "Feel free to look around. Being a photographer yourself, you'll probably feel right at home."

Hugh smiled. "You have no idea." His voice was filled with awe as he looked around. "This.. is photography. I had a room like this in my house growing up - my grandfather's studio and he taught me.. everything.. wow." He breathed and looked around, careful not to touch anything. "Brings back some.. memories.. good ones." he smiled at Viggo. "I feel honored to be in here.'

Viggo grinned, a wide white flash in the red light. "Good to hear that. Most people who've seen my little world just go on and on about how outdated it is. But I like the old ways. Hands on." The timer went off and Viggo moved around behind Hugh. "Eyes," he warned, and turned on the overhead light. "Gotta get these up right quick," he added, moving around to the tray table to start lifting out prints.

"You're gonna have to wait a bit. Sorry. But I only just had a chance to make a set of prints for you."

Hugh blinked as his eyes focused. "Im sorry.. I didnt mean to push to get these today,. Just.. trying to help Justin out - and the Babylon of course." He smiled and leaned out of the way on the way, watching Viggo work. "Nothing wrong with working with your hands." He said more to himself. "and.. I.. wanted to say thank you.. for your.. advice the othernight. I.. walked out. On Norman."

No, his heart did not suddenly lurch into a unsteady lope. It just didn't. Really. "That couldn't have been easy," Vig managed to say after a moment, glad to have the prints to keep his hands busy. Fortunately he'd made so many prints, dipping and rinsing and dipping and rinsing and hanging up on the line.

"It. was.. hard. But I got home yesterday.. okay - I'll back up." He sighed - he wanted to tell this story, and he wanted to tell his friend. "After our dinner, a day or so later Norman and i were trying to connect on some level. We decided to try the house in San Diego. I mean I was desperate to get some.. spark. I did what i always do; set everything up - even had the place ready with a fire in the fireplace.. i mean - he didnt have to lift a finger and I like that I can do that.. I like doing that.. and.. it was.. " Hugh shrugged. not mentioning the botched sex attempt. ".. Awkward. But I thought we were getting somewhere. We come home.. I get home from work.. and his drug dealer is at the door.. he is buynig drugs.. and bringing them into the house like I asked him not to." He tooka deep breath, hoping that made sense.

Viggo didn't say anything until he could be sure his response was level. He simply hung up the prints and gave them a quick, soft squeegie. "I'm thinking that was unacceptable," he said finally, honestly sympathetic to the difficulty of Hugh's position.

"It was the one thing I asked him not to do. Just the one thing - i even understood tapering off.. i mean hell I did my time with drugs back in my day but.. it was the ONE thing.. " HE shook his head and folded his arms over his chest.

Viggo hung up the last print and then looked directly at Hugh for the first time since the man entered the house. Yeah, he looked pretty tore down. "Couldn't have been easy for you," he said in a quiet hoarse rasp that had been known to make knees weak.

And Hugh's knees did tremble - as did the pit of his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to be taken in Viggo's arms and be told it would be okay - the pain would end- of course he could cry and Viggo wouldnt think of him as less of a man - Hugh just stayed put and swallowed hard. "It.. wasnt."

"When was this?" Viggo asked, not allowing himself to move toward Hugh, remembering the near-irresistible desire that had overtaken him last time.

"Two days ago." Hguh sighed. "And.. again.. I have laid my bloody problems at your feet... I'm sorry.' He hung his head a little and looked at the floor - those sexy feet - he looked at something else.

"Hey..." And it turned out he couldn't stop himself. He'd told himself for decades that it was the angel in him, but he wasn't so sure the angel was behind this urge toward compassion and soothing. "You can bring me your problems any time," he said, moving to stand in front of Hugh. "I mean that, Hugh. My place will always admit you."

Hugh lifted his eyes, trying to keep the saddness from them. "I appreciate that.. I really do." he breathed the words, his heart hammering in his chest.

He was no angel. Not completely. And the non-angel part leaned forward to place a hand on the wall by Hugh's head, and leaned in to (no, he wouldn't kiss the man, no, no, no, he had that much self-control) brush his cheek against Hugh's and murmured, "Coffee, tea, or..."

Hugh gasped then lifted his hands to Viggo's face, grabbed it firmly and pulled the man close to kiss him.

Okay, maybe he could have predicted that response. But who cared? Viggo allowed himself to resist the kiss for about two heartbeats, then joined in with enthusiasm.

Hugh kept a hold on the man's face then slipped his hands into Viggo's hair and gripped gently. He moaned softly into the kiss, as if he was a man lost in the desert and he just found the clearest coolest pool of water.

Viggo's other hand went up to the wall, bracketing Hugh. Enfolding Hugh in his wings, some detached part of his mind suggested, and he really had to remind it that he had no wings. He did, however, have surprisingly soft lips which made themselves at home with Hugh's, and a tongue that slipped free to test whether the gates were open or closed. Still...no part of them touched other than mouths and Hugh's hands in Viggo's hair.

Hugh felt safe - engulfed- the world suddenly didnt exist. He slid one hand down Viggo's chest then around to his back and ha pulled the man closer.

Every shred of Viggo's body wanted nothing more than to surrender to his base emotions at the moment. But he couldn't do it, couldn't let himself take advantage of the situation. So he poured everything he was feeling into the kiss, giving and taking, bruising his own lips and probably Hugh's. And when he felt himself throbbing against Hugh, he broke the kiss off as gently as he could, shaking with the effort. "I have wine," he managed to whisper, voice trembling as hard as his body was. "Let's go out there," he nodded toward the main room.

Hugh blinked at first, then nodded, licking his lips and trying to calm down. "Yea.. sure." he nodded and took a deep breath.

Now Viggo let himself touch the man, dropping a hand onto his shoulder and reaching over to pull the door open. "Time to sit," he said. "And make sure we're not about to make a mistake." God, his heart didn't feel like it would be a mistake, but then, he'd been wrong before.

Hugh laughed softly, and smiled. "You are always so.. diplomatic.. I like that."

"It's called desperation," Viggo said with a shaky laugh, leading them into the main room. To the futon and the cushions and the thick rugs. He automatically glanced around to make sure the wards were in place, glowing softly in the corners, then headed for the futon, playfully bumping a hip against Hugh on the way.

Hugh laughed and relaxed a little, then sat on the futon, taking another deep breath. "Wow that was just.. intense.. ya know?"

"Um... yeah," Viggo said, still standing and reaching down to adjust the real estate. "I know." He grinned abruptly. "So. Coffee? Tea? Wine? I got some cheap beer if that's your poison."

"Cheap beer? Do I look that cheap?" He joked. "Tea would be perfect - you want some help?"

"Nah," Viggo said with a 'stay put' gesture. "Kitchen's too small for more than one cook." He chuckled and covered the three steps to the corner 'kitchen." "You sit right there and tell me anything you need to. I promise I'm an excellent listener and I won't jump you." He grinned over his shoulder as he filled the kettle and put it on to heat. "Not until after the tea, anyway."

"I can try and babble until then but man - that kiss was seriuosly intense.. what.. was that?" he sat indian style on the futon. "Oh.. and you have sexy feet."

Viggo chuckled softly, opening the tea canister and filling an old-fashioned tea ball. "What was what?" He glanced over at Hugh again, this time with dancing mischief in blue eyes. "That's called French kissing. All the big kids do it these days." He suspected he knew what had startled Hugh: The quality of his being utterly present in the moment had caused the reaction in times past.

"I said you had sexy feet." HE laughed to himself.

Viggo paused in his mug gathering to give his feet a thoughtful perusal. "Ya think?" he said finally. "I just see long and skinny." Another grin to Hugh. "But I'll buy sexy, if you like'em."

"I do." He smiled,, "I have dragon feet - from surfing."

"Ahhhhh." Viggo nodded. "I'm a riding man, but not on surfboards. Last time I tried, I put half my face out of commission at an unfortunate time." He chuckled to himself as the kettle sang. "Always admired surfers, though." He ran hot water in the teapot and lowered the teaball into place before pouring boiling water over the top. The pot went on a tray with two mugs, a handful of sugar cubes, a pint carton of half and half, and spoons. At the last minute, he reached up into a cabinet for a treasured packet of Swedish gingersnaps and put them on the tray as well. "Have you been surfing for long?" he asked as he brought the tray over to one of the small tables and settled onto the futon.

"I suppose - few years.. wow.. I never actually gave a label as in .. years." He sighed - time for more information. "My first.. lover - was a champion surfer. I would sit and just watch for hours - or when he;d be on tour - I'd follow or.. if i was modeling and our schedules meshed - anyway he got me surfing."

"Sounds like a good way to get interested," Viggo set to work pouring the tea. "Sugar? Cream?"

Actually, plain.. thanks." He smiled

"Easiest way," Viggo said, handing the mug he'd just poured to Hugh. He splashed a bit of the cream into the bottom of his mug before pouring the tea over it. Two sugar cubes and a stir, and he sat back with his own. Then leaned forward against to grab the cookies box and toss it on the cushion between them. "So you learned to love surfing from a lover. That can be good or bad, when the relationship changes. Guessing it was good, for you."

"The relationship? Yea.. Toby was.. great." He sipped the tea and relaxed. "You.. dont want to hear this story." he smirked and laughed to himself.

"I don't, eh? And how would you know that?"

"It's... it was a long time ago and it's not pretty. Toby.. died. And I watched it." He sighed. "We were hiking in the outback- which we had done a hundred times. He went up on a ledge... to pose.. the joke was I was the photogrpaher and he was the model - and he.. just.. I lifted the camera and he was gone - he slipped from the rock - broke his neck and.. that was it. I was even accused of murder for a while.. but.. yea.. I was.. cleared. It was an accident."

"Wow," Viggo said, listening openly and with utter attention. "Must have been awful for you."

"It.. was. Yea. My heavy drug use followed that. Cant imagine why." he laughed a little and sipped the tea. "I.. pretty much gave up on .. love.. I was a complete.. whore - or it felt like it. I meanI was pretty much doing anything and everything not feel.. anything."His voice thickened at the thought of Toby. He hadn't thought about him in a long time.. he didnt know why.

"I think a lot of people go through times like that," Viggo said, lowering his mug to rest on a crossed-legged knee. "And it's just as awful for every single one." He touched a hand to Hugh's thigh, gently, then pulled it away. "I had my dark night of the soul as well. More than one, actually." He chuckled softly, not from humor but from the 'we're all in this together'ness.

'Yea? Tell me about it?" He asked softly.

Viggo considered his tea for a long moment, then gave Hugh a thoughtful sideways look. He reached up to drag his hair back, getting his thoughts in order.

"The first time was during the war," he said finally. "Chris and I were friends, foxhole buddies. Our unit was pinned down in a small battle that made no difference to the history books. We were captured and ended up in a POW camp. Strange place to discover that you love someone, but we did.

"Long story short, there was an escape attempt. Chris and I weren't involved, but we got caught in the crossfire anyway. Chris was shot up bad. It was near the end of the war and they weren't wasting time or vital supplies on prisoners, so I took care of Chris as best I knew how. It wasn't good enough, not by a long shot. A couple of the wounds went septic and he died in my arms."

Lifting the mug, he swirled the tea, watching the pattern. "Exactly five days later, we were liberated. When we got home, I was a mess." He glanced over at Hugh with a small, very wry smile. "Half-angel and I couldn't save him. Couldn't heal him. Couldn't keep him alive long enough for help to arrive. I lost several years to that grief and anger."

"Years.. wow.. I know that one." Hugh said, gripping his cup and staring at the liquid inside it.

"Haven't consciously thought about Chris in a long time."

"I understand that." He looked at Viggo. He didnt turn back the clock or question the time period - but he knew the pain.

"Time heals," Viggo said, summoning a smile. "Trite, but also true."

"It does.. it does." HE sighed.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

Hugh finally lifted his gaze. "Of course."

"I wouldn't ask, but I met a Fallen a few days ago who claimed to be 23 years old. I find that hard to believe. You a quarter-Fallen, right? So... Are you about as old as you appear? Early to mid-30s, I'd guess?"

Hugh blushed. "I'll be 41 this year."

"Oooh, well preserved," Viggo said with a grin. "You must work out." And he winked.

"I do.. every day actually." and he wasnt kidding.

Viggo suddenly had an all-too-vivid mental image of the hard body lurking under that sweater and had to pause and swallow. To cover, he reached for the box of cookies and shook it open. "These are amazing," he said, and dammit his voice was more than a little hoarse. "Imported. They're my secret weakness. Now you know." The round cookies, thin, crisp and spicy, spilled onto the futon between them.

"Oops, and now i know you eat cookies in bed." He laughed and helped put them back in the box.

"Damn. You can't let that out. It'll ruin my image."

Hugh laughed,. a nice honest laugh. "And you do have that jet setter man about town image to uphold."

"Damn straight," Viggo said, straightening the worn hoodie as if it were fine high-fashion duds. He grabbed one of the cookies, his hand brushing against Hugh's. "Y'know.... " he said, hesitated, then rushed ahead before he had time to stop himself. "I top."

Hugh almost choked on his tea and coughed a little. "Wow.. okay.. good to know." He blushed.

"Crap," Viggo said, and flushed red. "I can't believe I said that." He grinned sheepishly at Hugh. "You're messing with my hormones."

"Me? What the hell did I do?" He joked.

"You're sitting there," Viggo replied honestly. "Nowhere near far enough away. Looking pretty much completely edible. And with your heart broken and wanting somewhere to feel safe and comforted. You're like a shot of pure adrenalin to my angel side."

"And your a top. I mean.. been a while since I've done that." He smirked.

"What, been a top?"

"No, a bottom.. "

"Ahhhh....Well. There ya go. A deal-breaker. That's what'll save us." Viggo chuckled but some tiny fraction of his conscience said that really should be true. He stuffed a metaphorical sock in that that tiny part.

"No no.. I've done it before.. but only with.. real.. men that I knew would fuck me right. You .. yea you could do that." He smirked. "Jesus.. what the hell is in this tea?"

"I think you'll find me real man enough," Viggo said, and the small growl he'd been feeling since Hugh walked in the door finally leaked out into his voice.

"Wow.. this is.. yea.. " He took a deep breath. "Intense.. "

"Only tea is in the tea," Viggo said hoarsely.

"Are you sure?" Hugh looked into his cup. "Maybe.. you can read the tea leaves?"

Without even looking at the cup, Viggo replied, "The tea leaves say we're treading close to a line."

"Ah.. you can see that from here?" He pulled the cup close to his chest.

"Good eyes," Viggo said, forcing himself to relax back down onto the futon. "Angel thing."

Hugh laughed. "Ah nice. That and card tricks hm?" He put the cup down and sat back as well.

"And other things." Viggo fell silent for a moment, simply studying Hugh. The trouble with the damned angel half (you should excuse the humor in that) was that he almost always knew what he should do. Sadly, it often wasn't what he wanted to do. Leaning over to put down his tea cup, he scooped up the cookies and put them on the table as well. Then he looked at Hugh seriously again.

"You tell anybody about this, and I'll deny it," he said, voice warm and caring. Then he scooted over next to Hugh, arched his arm across the futon back, touching Hugh's back, and, well, offered an embrace. Just that. Acceptance, compassion, and for a moment, at least, uncomplicated by lust.

Hugh smiled softly, and edged closer, laying his head on Viggo's shuolder and sighed. "Wow. this is nice.. " and he meant it. ".. comfortable.. "

Viggo shifted just enough to be able to put his other hand on Hugh's chest, and let his head rest against Hugh's. "I'm estimating my will power at about a half-hour," he said lightly. Joking, but meaning it.

"Then yours is better than mine." He smiled and closed his eyes.

The embrace still warm and comforting, nothing more, Viggo spoke softly. "I can't remember the last time somebody affected me the way you have. I feel like I should apologize."

"I should - for taking advantage of your.. generous nature.. " Hugh whispered.

"Don't even think it." Viggo rubbed Hugh's bicep gently. "I'm not usually a teenage horn dog."

"Oh.. I am." He joked. Well I was.. in LA.. when I was.. single."

Viggo chuckled softly, letting the feel of a man's body against his warm him to the core. "Single as in no boyfriend? Or single as in married?"

"Dont split hairs now.. this feels too good."

Again, the soft rumble of a chuckle. "No arguments here."

Hugh laughed. "Laugh again.. made my ear tingle."

Viggo chuckled, then turned his head just enough to nuzzle the top of Hugh's ear through his hair. "Tingle is a specialty of the house," he murmured.

Hugh laughed again and squirmed a little. "Okay - this is wrong - I'm inches from giggling!"

"Go ahead and giggle," Viggo smiled against Hugh's ear. "I like knowing I can make you smile."

"Oh no - no giggling!"

Viggo licked the top of the ear he'd finally uncovered and without a moment's hesitation, nipped at it. "It's entertaining, you have to admit. A big old guy like you, giggling."

Hugh bit his lip to stop from giggling. "I am NOT giggling."

"The hell you say."

Then Hugh let out with a huge long.. giggle. His cheeks went pink and he was laughing like a fool - he had no idea why

Viggo grinned, listening to all sorts of aching emotions bubble out in that uproarious giggling. Only then did he allow a bit of his in-born soothing ability out to give Hugh some psyche-deep comfort. He held the man loosely, but he did hold him.

Hugh laughed until he had tears in his eyes - of course they were from the laughing - right? He huddled back down into Viggo and settled, still giggling softly. "I have no idea where that came from."

"No need to question it," Viggo said, smiling against Hugh's hair once more. "Just accept it as the gift it is."

"Giggling is a gift? Its.. embarassing."

"How does your soul feel?" Viggo asked softly, back to rubbing Hugh's bicep, his other hand resting splayed on the bigger man's chest.

Hugh took a deep breath and nodded - then shook his head.. then nodded. "Raw and confused."

"But maybe a little less tangled? Maybe just a couple of degrees lighter?"

Hugh nodded. "A couple.. thank you."

"I'd rather be distracting you another way," Viggo admitted.

Hugh looked up at Viggo. "Alright." He leaned close and kissed the man gently.

Viggo accepted the kiss as the 'thank you' it seemed to be, fighting an ongoing war with his human, much less angelic, side.

Hugh moved even closer and pressed into the kiss, sliding one hand up to caress the man's face.

Okay. That didn't feel like just gratitude. The hand that had been kneading Hugh's arm slid up to the back of his neck, and Viggo stopped holding back. He kissed Hugh with every bit of the single-minded passion he'd been holding off ... for the most part. The kiss grew so deep, so intense, that when he tasted blood, he wasn't even sure whose lip had split.

Hugh had groaned and it was his lip - he jerked at the pain but clung to Viggo for a reason he was not about to try and explain.

Realizing it was Hugh's lip, Viggo slowed the kiss but not the intensity, instead licking Hugh's lips tenderly before kissing up the side of his face and pulling an earlobe into his mouth to suckle it slow and intensely. His breath warmed the side of Hugh's face and Viggo moved slow and easy to topple Hugh down onto the futon, untwisting himself to end up atop the dark-haired man.

Hugh sighed and wrapped his arms around Viggo's neck, panting - he loved the weight of Viggo - the .. safety.

One hand found its way under Hugh's sweater, and Viggo's warm, hard hand slid slowly up Hugh's chest. Their mouths pulled back together as if tethered and Viggo found a nipple to circle with one fingertip as he made love to Hugh's mouth. A nipple to tweak as he nipped along Hugh's jawline.

Hugh gsaped and his back arched. One hand was in Viggo;s hair and the other pressed to the man's back.

He was trying, really trying, to hold back. Things had not been said that needed to be said. But the taste of Hugh was intoxicating; even his scent was pushing Viggo past his careful boundaries. Abruptly he leaned up, grabbed the tail of Hugh's shirt and pushed it up as high as it would go, then fell onto his chest, licking and teasing each nipple in turn, his hair spilling down to tickle Hugh's chest. Each nipple was tended to with the utmost care, including the occasional sharp nip.

Hugh was breathing hard, hands on Viggo's shoulders and in the man's hair. He.. was.. dizzy in the best way.

Abandoning the nipples, Viggo kissed his way down the center of Hugh's chest, pausing to tongue-circle his navel as his hands made their way up to those nipples again. "If you're... not... ready...." Viggo panted against Hugh's middle, his voice muffled. "Want... me... t'stop.... say now."

"I'll never be ready.. do with me what you will." He smiled a little.

Viggo held steady for a long moment, breathing hard and hot against Hugh's middle. Then his hands slid slowly, roughly down Hugh's chest and he made perhaps surprisingly quick work of opening the man's trousers. Leaning back up on Hugh's chest, he looked the younger man in the eyes as he slid one hand onto his cock, taking its measure. Eyes gone midnight blue studied Hugh's face as his hand studied the rest.

Hugh gasped and closed his eyes at the touch, then opened them again, looking at Viggo. "Im going to break your heart." He whispered.

"Not tonight you're not," Viggo said. He brought his busy hand up and never looking away from Hugh's eyes, wet his palm and fingers sloppily with lots of spit. "And you need to remember what I told you the other night." His hand dove back down to grasp Hugh's cock with deftness and dexterity to do justice to a lifelong hooker, not a half-angel. Midnight gaze intent, he worked Hugh like a pro, teasing him to the breaking point and then slowing. Then doing it again. And again.

Hugh was dizzy as hell and gripping Viggo to stay in this world. "What did you.. oh . .god.. say.. the.. other... night?"

Viggo leaned forward against Hugh, trapping his hand between Hugh's cock and his own erection. From inside a spill of sandy hair, he whispered, "I... can be... addictive." And on that note precisely, he loosened the hold he'd had on the base of Hugh's shaft, gave him two hard, precise, slightly twisting strokes and leaned down to capture Hugh's mouth, to taste his orgasm.

Hugh's back arched and he came hard with a muffled scream. One hand was fisting the fabric of the futon the other gripped Viggo's back, he was seeing stars...

When he felt Hugh reaching his absolute peak, Viggo hit him with a short, sharp blast of angel ecstasy. That was what he called it, anyway. The feeling of utter transcendence, one with the universe,hearing the stars sing and the trees whisper and all the world's great cats roar hallelujahs. It was better than the best drug and, once experienced, impossible to forget. Hugh got two seconds of it, enough to send him into rapture but not enough for him to get lost.

Hugh was seeing stars alright - he weas trying to catch his breath and he looked at Viggo, pushing the hair from the man's eyes. "What.. was that?"

"Addiction," Viggo said, collapsing slowly to lie mostly atop Hugh. As Hugh was a few inches taller, that helped.

Hugh's eyes were dancing with stardust and he kissed Viggo again, holding him tight. "I feel like I died" He smiled.

"There's a reason why it's called the little death," Viggo said, sliding slightly to the side so he wasn't heavy on Hugh. He leaned on one elbow and looked at Hugh, resting in his arms. And just smiled.

"You are pretty pleased with yourself." Hugh smiled, feeling very exposed in many ways.

"I'm pleased for you," Viggo said evenly.

"For me?" He asked, not putting himself back together.

"To see you smile. Laugh. Forget." One of Viggo's legs rested lightly over Hugh's hips, keeping him somewhat warm and getting his jeans nice and sticky in the process.

Hugh sighed happily and kissed Viggo gently. "Thank you."

The kiss was so different from a short while ago. When it broke and Hugh dropped his head back on the futon, Viggo reached up to touch his split lip tenderly. He studied the lip for a long moment, then looked up at Hugh with a small smile. "Sealed with blood."

Hugh touched his own lip and felt the split there. He shivered and got a little scared for some unknown reason. "Yea... "

Viggo saw the shiver and smiled more gently. "Don't worry. I didn't steal your soul or anything."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart," Viggo said, fingers of his free hand drawing absent designs on Hugh's chest. "This wasn't enough to seal the 'no sharing' bit. In case you're concerned."

"Stop scaring me." Hugh joked and reached up to kiss Viggo again.

Viggo melted into the kiss, simply enjoying it for what it was. "You're welcome to stay here tonight," he said quietly. "It's warded against demons and I promise not to defile your honor." His lips twitched a bit with that, and his eyes danced.

"NOt sure I buy that last part." he shivered, he was getting cold. "I.. want you to decide - i dont want to think tonight."

"Stay," Viggo said simply. "I'm tired of being alone. And... a bit unsettled. I'd be glad for the company."

Hugh nodded. "Id love to." He smiled and snuggled into Viggo. "Do I stay in my current clothing optional condition?" He looked at his undone pants and hiked up shirt.

"We can do better than that," Viggo said, and rolled off the futon with an agile twist and jerk that had him landing on his feet. "Up you go." With that, he grabbed the tea tray and carried it back to the galley before heading back to the futon. With the ease of long practice, he unlatched it and slid the seat forward while the back dropped down. "Instant bed," he announced with a dramatic flourish. "Sheets already on. Pillows on the way." Slipping to the bathroom, he grabbed two fat pillows and a blanket from storage and brought them back to the futon. "I sleep naked," he said almost absently. "But I've got some track pants if you'd be more comfortable."

"I sleep naked too." He said with a slight blush, kicking off his shoes.

"Naked as God made us," Viggo said. "It's a good thing."

"I think so." He slipped out of his clothes and laid down, snuggling into the pillow and huddling under the covers. "Hmm this feels.. good."

Viggo stripped with the efficiency born of loooong practice. He made no attempt to cover or disguise the scars on his forearms and hands, or the big ugly pucker on his back. Bare as could be, he slipped under the covers with Hugh. "Watch this," he said with a mischievous wink, and clapped his hands sharply. The lights went out, leaving only the soft glow of the wards around the walls. Viggo wasn't sure if Hugh could see those, so he didn't mention them. "Modern technology," he said lightly. "Gotta love it."

Hugh laughed and rested a hand on Viggo'schest. Remind me to ask you about the scars sometime."

"In the light," was all Viggo said, relaxing into the sweet warmth of shared bodies. It had been a damn long time.

"Yea. not now." he didnt move closer, he simply stayed still - the mattress for some reason was SO comforable and he closed his eyes. "Thank you for tonight.."

"Stay," Viggo murmured, and released a this cover of peace and calm over Hugh. "Be at peace."

Hugh sighed and relaxed - all over. "You are.. too much." He smiled, joking. "And.. too good to me."

"The jury's still out on that one," Viggo said, smiling into the darkness. He shifted so that Hugh's head was comfortably on his shoulder. "Sleep now. Tomorrow the darkness may be farther away, and you'll see the sun again."

Hugh laughed softly. "Spoken like a true fortune cookie. Good night Vig."

"Rest you gentle," Viggo murmured, and touched Hugh with just a whisper of healing sleep.

Hugh slipped into a dream faster than ever before - his body relaxed and his dreams.. lovely.

Literally Fucking Hell

Sun, 30 Mar 2008 22:57:19 GMT

Sean was pleased with himself as of late.

He had breezed into town with barely a blip and was still looking to set up residence. He liked it here. The desperation was like drinking a fine wine.

Today, though, was a day of rest. He laughed at that as he strolled into the gallery; wearing a black suit with a crisp white shirt. He knew this was George's favorite outfit of choice so this was his own way of mocking the self-important Fallen. Besides, the clothes felt good. He walked into the hushed gallery and started at one wall - photographs done as art - he let his mind relax and today was simply.. Sean. He slipped his hands into his pockets and observed the art.

Viggo had dressed up for the gallery show, not wanting to offend the artist. Of course, Viggo's notion of dressed up had been accused now and then of being skewed, a term which might apply to his current garb: Black tux trousers, worn and dusty black boots, a plain white t-shirt and a forest green jacket of uncertain lineage. He'd washed and combed his hair, at least, and it swung in a sandy spill nearly to his shoulders. The backpack and camera bag were, as always, ever present.

He wandered the gallery thoughtfully, studying the photos with occassional nods and head-tilted frowns. And then came the itch. Right at the bottom of his spine and spreading quickly to the base of his neck. An itch he'd felt only once before, and had hoped to avoid, although why he thought he'd be able to miss them in Vegas, of all places... Viggo closed his eyes, murmured a quick prayer incantation under his breath, and remained casual to outside observers.

Sean moved to the next photo then almost stumbled a step - the whispered words hit him like a cold slap - but gentle. He turned his head and saw where it came from instantly. Handsome this one was. He smiled to himself, this might be fun. He didnt know if the man had pointed him out yet so he simply kept looking at the photos, but kept an eye on the handsome one.

By sheer pigheadedness, Viggo kept himself moving casually along his already chosen path, but he no longer saw the photos. Instead, he ran through possible scenarios in his head, from the most benign to the far-too-destructive. He wasn't sure if the demon had spotted him, but he was sure of one thing: He would not be responsible for causing harm to innocents. That much decided, he began to make his way slowly, casually, toward the exit. Barely seeing the people around him, his mind focused on protection, on calling the Four and petitioning the One.

Sean watched the man closely and of course - followed. He stepped up behind the man and kept his voice soft. "Im not going to cause a scene."

The voice was soft and pleasant, and Viggo wasn't startled. His spine was basically radiating by this point, after all. He'd known the demon was close. "Your kind lies," he said without looking back at the man. He pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool desert night, damaged by the city lights.

"Well, I cant fault you for that one." Sean followed, falling into step with the man. "But.. today is my day off." His deep voice thickening his accent.

Viggo snorted at that. He passed the front of the gallery and the building next to it, then ducked into a pocket park, not much bigger than three parking spaces, with a small fountain, a few struggling trees and two benches. He moved into the park, away from the street, then turned to face the demon, which he hadn't seen until now. And closed his eyes briefly, strengthening the wards. Why were they always so damned gorgeous?

Sean slowed his step and smiled a little. "Well, that's better. We know about each other, I want no fight with you but it seemed ridiculous to ignore each other." He extended his hand in a perfectly human action. "Sean."

Viggo literally shook as a hard shudder rocked through his body. He jammed his hands deep into his pockets and told himself he had nothing to fear. Fully human exorcists could handle demons - sometimes - surely he could. And he was older now. Wiser. "Viggo," he said, keeping his voice level, knowing that the demon could have his name with the snap of a finger anyway. Some things were worth fighting over. Some weren't.

Sean pulled his hand back and nodded. "Like that hm? Well, it's understandable. We do have a rather bad reputation I suppose." Then he noted the bags. "So, photographer yourself or backpacking through Vegas?" He smiled and moved to one of the benches, sitting and crossing his long legs.

Viggo moved to the other bench, glad for some breathing space between them. He slid pack and bag onto the bench but remained standing, uneasy. "I do some photography," he said. "Here for a while."

"Yea? That's your profession here then? Was that always what you did?" He turned to face Viggo, crossing his legs towards the man. "And.. that is quite an interesting name.."

"I've done other things," Viggo said, rocking a little in place. "It's Danish." He studied the demon, who, of course, was exactly the type of man he found attractive. Dammit. "It means warrior."

"Lovely. I can see that in you." He smiled. "Would love to see your work sometime. How are you finding Vegas?"

"It's your kind of town," Viggo said simply.

Sean laughed softly at that. "I suppose it is. I am too new in town to know that yet."

"Open your center," Vig said drily. "You'll feel them. Desperate. Willing to do anything for distraction and not even sure what they want to be distracted from. Many of them wanting degradation, with no idea what they're asking for." Cool blue eyes studied green. "You can gorge yourself here."

"I've never been one to stuff myself sick." He smirked. "I tend to.. conduct my life in a different way. By my own kind, I have sometimes been called weak - since I often stop to smell the roses."

Right. And Viggo often stood in for an NBA player. It was all he could do to avoid another snort. "So why are you here?"

Sean could see he was not going to convince Viggo past the man's assumptions. He sighed softly. "I was sent here. Seems the last man for job could not handle it. I have more.. tact. You?

"I don't know yet," Vig answered honestly. "I know I'm supposed to be here, but not why." Could it be to help hold the balance against this demon? "The place seems to attract the Undecideds. I've met two of them already."

"Two? My my - I've only met one." He smiled.

Viggo shrugged. "One's like me. Partial."

He nodded and sighed a little. "So, seems we are settling right in. And you and I can talk like civilized... men. Does this surprise you?"

"Even the greatest of you can quote Scripture," Viggo pointed out. "If you appeared to men as your true self, it would be much harder to destroy them, would it not?"

"You make me sound like a monster. I could say the same for you.. except for the destoying part. But your true nature... frightening to many mortals."

"You are a monster, by their terms," Viggo said, not backing down. "As am I. My people can be fierce and frightening and even bloodthirsty. No arguments there. But we do not joy in destroying the Maker's favorite creations. And your kind does."

"Alright alright - no need to get nasty." Sean frowned a little. "Im trying to have a nice conversation with a devastatingly handsome man and .. well.. there is no need to bring up such things."

"Is there not?" Viggo was honestly puzzled. While his human half found Sean attractive and would like nothing better than to pretend he was no more than he appeared - a handsome man, his angel half bristled relentlessly. "The last I heard, no one had called off the war between Heaven and Hell."

"Perhaps Vegas is the.. level playing field? Neutral ground?"

"Is it?"

Sean shrugged. "Perhaps. It's something to think about. We are not battling at the moment right?"

"If this is..." Viggo trailed off, thinking. Dammit. Demons. Finally he sighed. "What do you want?"

"Just to keep looking at you. You are very handsome you know, in this form. Perhaps even, in this world, a date? Little dinner - some witty banter." he smiled.

"To what purpose?" Viggo asked honestly. "We cannot be friends. Our goals are entirely at odds. You're handsome as well, for now. But I can't just forget what you are." Truly baffled, he studied the 'man.' "Is it so easy to overlook what I am?"

"Not at all, maybe it's part of the attraction." He leaned forward, his voice soft. "Most of your kind that I have met rarely have such a curious nature. Most are very high and mighty and won't give me the time of day. My being who I am is on my own time. My personal relationships are my own business."

"You'll forgive me if I find that hard to believe," Viggo said drily, finally walking over to the other bench and sitting, but tense, not at ease. "Your kind have only one desire for my kind. I know. I've been burned."

"Haven't we all in affairs of the heart." He smiled a little sadly.

"I'm not talking about affairs of the heart," Viggo said. "And as I recall, you don't have one."

"You wound me.. deeply." Sean said softly, with no smile. Then he lifted his eyes and looked directly at Viggo. "We are not all alike."

"Aye," Viggo said calmly, refusing to be taken in by its supposed humanity. He'd thought once that he could help, could make a difference. He now knew better. "And what is your specialty, then, Sean?"

"Specialty? In what sense?"

"You're not all alike," Viggo fed back to him. "Do you specialize in lust? In greed? In pride?"

"Ah.. that." He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "I suppose that would be.. " He paused - how honest did he want to be. ".. well.. maybe I keep that my secret hm? No sense unwrapping the whole package.. where would be the mystery?"

Viggo finally relaxed enough to sit on the bench, although he still could feel all his muscles quivering. "So you're not after anything. You just run into a - into me and want to do dinner and a movie, eh? Maybe a drink afterward? Find things in common. Get to know each other. See how it goes?"

"Stranger things have happened. I happen to be very attracted to you and.. let's.. see how it goes." He smiled a little.

Viggo shuddered again and gripped the bench with both hands, white-knuckled. "You are so enticing," he said softly, almost despairingly. "All of you are. Sweet words and harmless ways, and even angels..." He closed his eyes firmly, took a deep breath and refreshed his wards, murmuring to the Four for help.

"Shh.. Im sorry to make you so uncomfortable." Without thought, he touched Viggo's hand gently.

A literal spark flew at the touch, a short, sharp shock that rocketed through Viggo and sent him lurching off the bench in a near-run. Two steps away, he stumbled on an uneven brick and went down hard.

Sean stood, shocked as well, his heart was pounding. He walked to Viggo and held out his hand - then pulled it back. "I wont harm you - I give you my word." He was worried about the poor man. "You have been hurt bad before havent you?"

Viggo scrambled over onto his back and crab-crawled away from Sean for a few feet before awkwardly hauling himself back to his feet. He was careful to stay at least an armslength from Sean as he watched the demon warily. One hand came up to touch his upper lip, leaving a blood smear from a scraped fingertip on the jagged scar there. "Here's where he hooked me," he said in a growl, equal parts fear and defiance. He held up both hands, shoving the jacket sleeves back to expose light scars all along his wrists, forearms and back of his hands. "Here is where he held me." He shuddered and stared at Sean. "And on my back is the scar where he tried to end me."

Sean looked at the scars and tried not to lick his lips - how wonderful Viggo's screams would have been - he shoved that out of his mind and thought of.. other screams the man could make. "I am sorry. I.. didnt mean to bring up painful memories." He slipped his hands into his pockets, looking a little defeated.

The defeated look was so appealing, even to the angel in him, but Viggo had caught just a hint of the hunger in those green eyes. "If you mean to- If you're to harm me... I know it's stupid to ask that you just do it quickly."

Sean shook his head. "Im not going to harm you, I have given you my word."

"Do you understand why that means nothing?"

"Until I can prove myself to you.. yes." He spoke softly. Sadly again. Maybe he longed for a normal life - true nature be damned.

"Then we have... detente, at best," Viggo said, shoving his jacket sleeves back down and rubbing his scraped palms on the tux pants, which had developed a tasteful rip in one knee. "Angels don't live here. You know that, of course."

"The Fallen do. All over from what I understand." he put his hands in his pockets again to avoid wanting to touch Viggo again.

"They're as much like you as I am like an angel," Viggo pointed out. "You'll have no end of easy pickings."

Sean scowled and looked away. "Please..." He shook his head. "This was obviously a bad idea. Im sorry to have disturbed you." sean locked away his personal feelings again - locked away safe from harm and started to turn away.

"It can't be that I've insulted a demon," Viggo said, honestly surprised for the first time.

Sean stopped and smirked. "Please, I'll make sure to stay out of your way." He bowed slightly and turned again.

"And the Booker Street Mission," Viggo said, adding somewhat reluctantly, "Please."

Sean stopped again, turned slowly back to face Viggo. "Of course. You have my word."

"I have to choose to believe you," Viggo said honestly. "The people there have suffered enough from your kind. If I can give them some degree of help, of comfort and safety... it's all I know to do here, for now."

Sean nodded. "I understand, I wont bother anyone there." He said flatly.

Viggo hesitated, torn between his natural desire to make things better and his intellectual understanding of just how easy he was to manipulate. "We don't have to be personal enemies," he said finally.

Sean brightened a little. "No, we don't. I have enough enemies."

Viggo nodded. "Very well, then." But he stayed still in the shadowy park light, the too-bright glitz of the canyon a couple blocks away making the night unnaturally lit. "I'm sorry to have disturbed your time at the gallery. If you'd like to return... I can easily come back another time."

"We know each other now. When I see you I will not pretend I dont see you. Why dont we enjoy the gallery together. I promise to behave."

Would that be possible? Did either of them truly believe that?

Viggo watched the demon walk away, wrapped his arms around himself and dropped into a huddle in the shadows, shaking. The other one, the one he'd believed... It had told him that an angel was an impossible catch, but a half-angel could be... delicious.

Addictive, it had said. He had said. The demon.

Addictive.

It was a good half-hour before his shaking stilled enough that Viggo thought he could make it home.

Fail

Sat, 29 Mar 2008 04:31:55 GMT

I thought I was past this. I truly did.

But it turns out that if I put myself in the right place under the right circumstances... I fail.

The me who was is strong; sometimes I forget just how strong. Sometimes I forget how many years I've already sacrificed to that side of my self, and how devoutly I promised myself to stay away from that path. I let myself become proud in my own humility, and that's just as wicked as any other variety of pride.

I hope I haven't harmed what promised to be a rewarding friendship.

More meditation for me. More work in the neighborhood. Less time on the Strip, and at Babylon.

Knitting Ravelled Sleeves

Fri, 14 Mar 2008 21:33:02 GMT

Setting: Staff eating area, Babylon
Players: Viggo, A Photographer, and Hugh, A PR Person
Method: IM gamed, then brushed up by photovig
Cliff Notes Version: Two men end up in a bedroom but only one sleeps
-------
Vig looked up from his food as someone said “Hello” and considered being annoyed by the interruption. But nah, not for Hugh. "Hey," he drawled.

Hugh smiled and motioned to a passing waiter for his own plate then settled down with Viggo. "How's the wedding going?" As head of Public Relations for the Babylon, weddings were one of his many worries.

Viggo growled a bit, concentrating on his chicken something or other. "We don't talk about weddings before we're actually at them, right?"

Hugh had to laugh at that. "I understand. Did the... wedding photog thing myself... back in the day." He smirked and thanked the waiter when his plate arrived, then poured himself some water. "I don't envy you. Hell of a way to make a living."

Viggo didn't look up from his food, because whatever it was, it was more interesting than what he'd been eating for the past five days. "Not so bad," he admitted after swallow of something particularly good. "Beats digging ditches."

"Okay, I'll give you that one." He smiled again, his Australian accent thicker than usual. He looked sleepy. Actually, he looked like hell. Hugh stared at the plate like he wasn’t sure what it was for. "By the way... I like your car. I almost climbed into it because it'’s the same color as my Jeep. Have to park further away from you."

Vig looked up at that and frowned a bit at Jackman. "You got a dirt-colored Jeep?" He snorted. "You can afford better than that, surely."

"I could. I had a newer model. But it’s the best when I head out into desert to... clear my head." He sipped his water and tried to eat. "When I go to and from work here, the Babylon provides a car service. George insists." He shrugged.

"Pulls your chain, does he?" Viggo kept the words mild, but clear blue eyes went sharp.

Hugh shrugged again. "Signs my checks." He tried another bite then pushed the plate away and sipped his water. "He's a good guy, though. Not too demanding. You meet him yet?"

"Only in passing, a word or two," Viggo said, noting Hugh's lack of appetite and the dark circles under his eyes. The faintly gray undertone of his skin. "Dude, you look like shit," he said bluntly. "Shouldn't you be somewhere sleeping for about three days?"

Hugh blinked and looked at Viggo, then laughed. "Oh probably. But I am in the process of hiring as assistant. Have interviews to do. Just.. none of them.. fit."

Viggo nodded, scooping up the last of the chicken pasta thingie. "Why I work alone. Nobody to blame but me."

"Big place. Lots to handle. Besides this wedding, and the three more this week and two this weekend; I plan events for the high rollers. Had an Oscar viewing party that went over very well." He smiled. "My idea - I was bloody proud of it."

"Good for you." With his last remaining roll, Viggo mopped up the remains of the meal and wolfed it down. "You ever miss photography?"

"Every day." Hugh sighed. "Every fucking day." He smirked sadly and shook his head. "But they offered me so much money to do this job. Not to mention the Gallery ... Norman's gallery. Just seemed to fit. Keeps me busy. I do hit the desert now and then, just to keep my hand in it."

"Money's nothing if you're miserable," Viggo pointed out, leaning back and pushing his plate away. "But if you're happy, more power to you."

"Happy is relative, mate." He sipped the water again and sighed. "I'll get back to happy.. someday." Then he laughed at himself, shaking his head. "Bloody fuck, listen to me. Got the world by the ass and I sound like .. hell I don't know.. just ignore me. I must be tired." He looked at Viggo. "If you need a hand today, I mean - I do know my way around a camera."

"I'll bear that in mind." Viggo downed the last of the beer he'd had with the meal, much to the horror of a prissy-pants waiter. "Still think you'd be better off with about 48 straight hours of shuteye."

Hugh thought about that for a long moment then nodded. "It's... difficult. I haven't resorted to pills yet but I'm damn close."

"How long since you slept?"

"For more than an hour?" He shrugged. "Month.. maybe. Since Norman left." He swallowed hard.

"Christ, Hugh." Viggo straightened, all relaxation gone. "That's psychosis country. I'm surprised you're not dead. You need to get your ass to a hospital and let them put you to sleep for a while. I'm not kidding."

Hugh shook his head. "Im fine.. really." He smiled weakly. "But thanks. Too much to do." He smiled and stood, but his legs gave out for a second and he slipped back into the chair, a little white. "Im fine.. honest."

"You are not fine. Period." Viggo stood and waved down a waiter. "Call Clooney. Tell him he needs to get this man to a hospital." He put a perhaps surprisingly steely hand on Hugh's shoulder to keep him from going anywhere.

Hugh nearly wept at the touch. Someone was going to take care of him? That... didnt happen. Ever. He looked up at Viggo and shook his head. "I just need a minute. Really. I’m fine. Don’t get George... he'll.. not be happy."

Viggo grumble-growled. Damn people. Can't be trusted to take care of themselves. "Where you staying?"

"I got a house.. in Henderson.. but.. I have a suite here too.. 5th floor," Hugh said softly, starting to sweat.

"Up," Viggo ordered, and slid an arm around Hugh to brace him. "C'mon, you're going to sleep." He waved off the waiter, and then on second thought, called him back. "Never mind Clooney." He fumbled a notepad and pen from a pocket and scrawled a note. "Get that at the pharmacy. Bring it to Jackman's suite on the 5th floor." The waiter, with a nod, took off.

"What was that?" Hugh asked about the paper and swore he was standing on his own two feet, not even realizing he was being supported by Viggo.

"Something to help you sleep. Come on." Taking as much of Jackman's weight as he could, Viggo steered the lunatic toward the nearest bank of service elevators. "You realize, I hope, that going this long without sleep can actually kill you. Moron,."

Hugh laughed a little. "And your point is?" Hugh took a deep breath and tried to right himself as they walked, not wanting the guests to see them and he was glad for the service elevator. "Wow.. you think of everything." He teased.

"Nah. I only wish I did." Viggo got them into a service elevator, shifting Hugh's weight a bit as the doors slid closed, leaving them alone and staring at themselves in the shiny walls. "You anxious to die?"

Hugh leaned on the wall and looked at Viggo. "Long story, mate. Long ass story." He rubbed his hand over his face and took another breath, standing up straight - then leaning back on the wall. "Thank you for this. I’m taking you from your work and I’m sorry."

"Nah, I got nothing for a few hours. Everything's already set up. Just have to put on my nice clothes and smile." He studied his dusty boots on the floor. "And remember not to kill anybody."

Hugh laughed at that. "It was always - for me - the decision to either kill the wedding planner or the mother of the bride. Always a coin toss there." The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Hugh righted himself but gripped the edge of the open door to take a step. "Fuck." He muterred under his breath.

"Mother of the bride. Almost always." He stepped under Hugh's arm again as the man almost went down in the door. "Stay conscious long enough to get us to your place, dude. Cause I don't know where it is."

"End of the hall.. naturally. Farthest room from the damned elevator." He laughed a little and rested against Viggo. He fished out the key card and handed it over.

They stumbled down the hallway like a couple of drunk bums. Viggo took the card and when they (finally) got to the door, keyed it open. "Point me toward your favorite horizontal surface," he said bluntly.

Hugh laughed. "Sydney, Australia." He joked and pointed to the bedroom. "That way.. down under.

"Sydney's not happening today," Viggo said patiently. "Down there, yeah." He helped the sagging man down to the bedroom, pushed it open, and deposited him on the bed. "Lie down," he said, with plenty of years of experience with dogs. "Stay."

"Bark Bark." Hugh laughed and lay back. He tried to toe off his shoes but wasn’t having much luck. His hand went to the other side of the large bed and felt nothing but a cold empty spot. His eyes were once again wide open and he sat up on his elbows. "Now I’m not tired." He said darkly.

"I don't give a good goddamn whether you're tired or not," Viggo said. "Lie down and rest."

Hugh blinked. "So forceful." He smirked and layed back, eyes wide to the ceiling. He sighed heavily and reached out again, then clasped his hands over his stomach. "Now what?"

"Are you usually this much of an ass?"

Hugh looked at Viggo and nodded. "You always so damned nice?"

You won't say I'm nice when I conk you over the head to make you go to sleep. Close your eyes."

Hugh took a deep breath, laughing and did as he was told. "They are closed. Why clsoe them? You going to do something I shouldn’t see?" He was getting punchy from being so exhausted. "Besides.. I’m too tired to sleep."

"Heard that one before, too." Viggo took up position in the door frame so he could keep an eye on Jackman but still hear a knock at the front door. "In another lifetime, I had a kid. He used to try to pull that one, too. Get him to close his eyes and relax for five minutes and he was out like a light."

Hugh was exhausted but tense; tighter than a bow string, his grandfather would say. He peeked open one eye at the knock and watchd Viggo go to the door. When alone, he raised himself up on his elbows again, pushing his shoes off. "I have too much to do for this right now!" He called out, being defiant - cause he could.

"Whatever," Viggo called from the door, where he was paying the waiter who'd made the quick trip to the pharmacy downstairs and returned with his goodies. "You have enough time to get arrested for murder?" he asked, stepping into the doorway again and giving Hugh a cool blue stare. "Cause if you let yourself get sleep psycho, that's not out of the realm of possibility."

"Why do I love the way your mind works?" Hugh smirked, still up on his elbows. "What sort of pill cocktail you got there." He didnt like pills - didnt want to resort to them - that was his past - WAY past... but.. if a man like Viggo said to do something, something said you don’t say no.

"You'll love it," Viggo said, removing the cap and dropping it on the bed. "But you'll need to hold your nose. Stuff smells like utter shit. I'm not kidding." He got the seal off the bottle, grimaced at the smell, and shook three enormous pills into one palm. "If this doesn't relax you enough to sleep, I wash my hands of you and go back to my dessert. Which I didn't have, by the way."

"I am sure they will save you a piece of the cake." Then he wrinkled his nose at the smell. "What in gods name are you shoving at me, Vig?"

"Valerian," Viggo said patiently, offering the stinky pills to Hugh. "Mother Nature's sedative."

"We're going all natural here hm?" Hugh actually liked that idea - a lot. He poured himself a glass of water then took the pills, shut his eyes and popped them into his mouth. He downed half the glass them made a face. "Eww.. I am going to be burping these for hours, no?"

Viggo grinned suddenly. "Maybe you'll get lucky. But I've never known valerian to fail." He shrugged. "And you don't have to worry about overdose or addiction."

"All good points.. bleh." He smacked his lips and layed back down. "Terrible - but hopefully effective." He took a deep breath and looked at Viggo. "Thank you.. for all this.. I.. didnt mean to be this kind of trouble."

"I'm a selfish bugger," Viggo said with a chuckle. "Don't want you going wacko and shooting up the hotel while I'm trying not to kill the mother of the bride. It might inspire me."

Hugh laughed - a good decent laugh. "I'll get the ammo. Try a machine gun, more rounds."

Viggo smiled then, a real smile. That was the first laugh from Jackman that sounded right. Good. Some sleep should fix the man right up. "Y'know, I did shoot a mother of the bride once."

Hugh opened his eyes and looked at Viggo. "You are kidding."

"Would I kid about a thing like that?" Viggo leaned in the doorframe of the bedroom, arms crossed, expression entirely deadpan.

Hugh went up on his elbows again. "God I bloody hope so." He laughed again.

"Lie down."

Hugh flopped back down. "Yessir."

"Good lad. Now, where was I?"

"Shooting the mother of the bride." He clasped his hands over his stomach again and crossed his ankles. "I mean - I do need a bedtime story."

"That's right." Viggo nodded, and carefully pitched his voice at its most hoarse and raspy and somnolent, slow and easy. "Was a couple years ago. The groom was a great kid. The bride was a beautiful girl, smart, funny, everything the boy could want. But she came attached to the Mother From Hell. Dad had divorced Mom and remarried to Hot Little Cookie, which put Mom in a terrible disposition all the time. But we muddled through. They had shitloads of money, so I was brought in for engagement photos and meeting with the preacher photos and shopping with the annoying brat kids photos... I'm sure you get the picture. Pun intended."

Hugh settled back against the pillows and nodded. "Sounds intersting..:"

"Interesting? Only in the Chinese curse sense." Viggo shifted position, watching Hugh for signs of drowsiness. "So we muddled through until I just couldn't stand it any more. The night of rehearsal supper, I just cracked. Waited til she was in mid-screed again, everybody sitting around horrified but afraid to say anything to her, and I shot her."

Hugh chuckled softly, indeed starting to relax much to his own surprise. "You mean you got that horrible shot of her making that horrible screaming face? Submit it with the rest of the prints?"

"Nope, I pulled a pistol and shot her," Viggo said, deadpan. "I had plenty of pictures of her horrible faces. No, I shot her. Point-blank. With Nerf bullets. Gotta love that Nerf gun."

Hugh laughed again - a good strong laugh. Then he curled onto his side and hugged the pillow. "That was a great story."

"Yep, that Nerf gun is a regular part of my equipment. Great for dealing with bratty kids, too. And most people are surprisingly okay with being shot by Nerf bullets." He stepped over beside the bed and studied Jackman.

Hugh smiled and looked up at Viggo. He reached out and took the man's hand. "Thank you. I mean that."

"Sleep," Viggo said, giving the hand a squeeze. "That's thanks enough."

He squeezed the hand back and almost didn’t want to let go. He finally did, hugged the pillow and closed his eyes. "Yep... gonna burp that taste for hours." He said sleepily.

Viggo laughed softly. "The rest are on your table here. Sleep well, sweet prince."

Hugh smiled and started to drift off.

Viggo smiled a bit as well, then let himself out. Time for the Goldbergs. He wondered if he still had his Nerf gun.

Back to Hell

Thu, 13 Mar 2008 18:24:18 GMT

It's always jarring, coming back to this hellhole after a time in the wilderness. But I could only spend so long in the mountains with this strange weather. Besides which, there's the Goldberg wedding tomorrow.

God help me if I missed that.

So goodbye clean air, night skies, the scent of fresh water and pines. Hello stifling air, never-ending gaudy light, and the scents of exhaust, too much expensive perfume, and piss in the alleys.

Home sweet home.

So I got my gear unloaded from the Jeep and stowed in my small apartment with the extra-strong locks. Good thing about driving a dilapidated 30-year-old Jeep is that nobody wants to steal it. Didn't even bother to change from my worn jeans, flannel shirt and battered hiking boots before I headed over to the Babylon. If I stayed in the back, I could generally scrounge a meal there without too much trouble.

And once I get my belly full, here in the City That Never Sleeps, I plan to sleep like a baby.

An entry

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 19:34:26 GMT

This is an entry. This is only an entry. Had it been, say, a hailstorm or a rain of locusts, you would have been warned.