Summary: Christmas is in jeopardy owing to bad weather
Post-reveal Notes: Big thanks to widdershins for her Christmas morning beta
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
"...Airways regret to inform you that flight number..."
Viggo sat down. It was obvious he wasn't going anywhere. Freak weather had halted every flight in the city and he wasn't even sure he was going to make it back to his apartment. He sighed; unlike many other passengers, he didn't waste any time shouting at the airport staff. It had been without much hope he'd come to the airport, hoisting his rucksack onto his shoulders he trudged back to the car park, hoping that his car would get him home.
It refused point blank to start and with a slightly sick feeling, it occurred to Viggo that he might not have turned the lights off.
"Fuck..." he said aloud.
"Not right now but I'll take a rain check..."
Swinging round, Viggo realised it was one of his least favourite people, his neighbour, Simon ... Stephen or someone. The epitome of everything he hated most.
"Hi..." he said briefly.
"You look like you're a bit stuck, d'you want a lift home?" Vivid green eyes were twinkling and Stephen or Simon looked like he was enjoying Viggo's discomfort. However, getting stuck at the airport for hours was not on his list for Father Christmas so he nodded.
Stephen or Simon opened the passenger door of his gas guzzling monster car, the one that Viggo hated with a passion because it was in no way green and cost more than he earned in a year. And he'd taken against Stephen or Simon for not caring about the environment even though he barely knew the man.
"Who'd have thought a bit of bad weather could have closed the city down, eh?" Stephen or Simon seemed not to notice that Viggo was glowering at him as he stashed both lots of luggage in the back of the car and got in.
"I mean, when you think about it, for all we can do, you know, fly to the moon, talk to people thousands of miles away," for a moment Stephen or Simon looked a bit sad. "We can't compete with Mother Nature..."
"Where were you going? Viggo asked abruptly. "For Christmas?"
"To see my girls, they wanted me to fly back a couple of days ago, but I had a conference I had to go to and..." now there was a note of sadness in Stephen or Simon's voice. "They're a bit gutted as it goes. It'll be the first Christmas I haven't spent with them."
"Will you go for New Years then?" Really it was the outside of enough if he had to start feeling sorry for the filthy capitalist.
"I don't know yet, their mum is taking them skiing so I might have to wait a bit," he sighed. "What about you? Where were you off to?"
"To my brother's, we always get together for the holidays."
"Why the holidays, it's Christmas, today is not holiday eve, it's Christmas Eve..." Stephen or Simon was smiling in a way that Viggo found quite disturbing. He wasn't sure why.
"Well not everyone celebrates Christmas."
Stephen or Simon's lip curled. "Oh you're one of those are you?"
"One of what?"
"One of those politically correct bores who barrel around the place looking for something to be offended by."
"I mean Christmas is Christmas."
"Yes it is." Viggo had the urge to laugh, his lips twitched. "It's not Easter, that's for sure."
Stephen or Simon looked over and grinned. "So what are you going to do?"
"Cook dinner and sit in front of the TV until the weather improves I guess, what about you?"
"I'm going to hit the supermarket, buy some food and do much the same, I've been away for a week so I'm gonna stock up."
It crossed Viggo's mind he should ask Stephen or Simon around but he couldn't quite bring himself to frame the invitation. "Sounds good..."
They were silent as the car inched its way onto the main road and crawled slowly and carefully towards their neighbourhood. Stephen or Simon switched the radio on, found a carol service, humming when 'Come All Ye Faithful' came on. Viggo studied him. Tall, good looking, well very good looking, nice hands, well kept, nails cut short and even. And obviously doing very well for himself, his clothes were expensive, in short the sort of man his mom would like to see him with. Except of course he was everything Viggo despised. Apart that is for that twinkle in the very green, very intense eyes... It occurred to Viggo that Stephen or Simon was looking at him.
"If this was a bad porn movie, I'd say," a dramatic pause followed. "Like what you see?"
"If this was a bad porn movie, you'd have pulled into a lay by and we'd be shagging like rabbits on the back seat."
"Ah well, I don't allow shagging on my back seat, it's hellish trying to get the come stains out."
Another long pause before Viggo began to laugh, quietly at first before he was loudly guffawing. This was most unexpected; he hadn't expected Stephen or Simon to be so funny.
"Fair play to you," he wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "I hadn't thought of that."
Stephen or Simon grinned, they were nearly home and the freezing fog seemed to be lifting a little. He pulled up outside the apartment block. "Here we are then," turning turned the engine off. They sat there for a moment longer before Viggo reluctantly got out of the car.
"Thank you so much..." Stephen or Simon? "S...Si...St..."
"Sean, my name's Sean."
"Thank you very much Sean."
"You're very welcome Victor."
"I know, it's Viggo, I was joking."
"Ah ... ha ha..."
"Not one of my best right?"
"I've heard better."
"Fair play to you then." Viggo was surprised to find he was rather enjoying the badinage.
"Touch√©." Sean got out of the car, slung his bag over his shoulder. "Merry Christmas Viggo." He smiled and walked up to the main door to their block whilst Viggo headed down the stairs to his basement home.
"Merry Christmas Sean," he called, opening the door and disappearing inside.
Christmas Day was damp and cold, the fog hanging around making it seem dank and dark and not at all festive. Viggo first noticed something was not right when he went to turn the light on. Nothing happened. Frowning he glanced over at his clock and realised there was no power. Never had he been so pleased to be the ageing hippy he was so often accused of being. One of the reasons he'd chosen to live in this basement apartment was the presence of the wood burning stove that he could cook off and heat at least the kitchen diner. It was the heart of his home and the room he spend most time in.
There was a knock at the door.
"Ho fucking ho..." it was Sean.
"Hey," Viggo opened the door. Sean was standing clutching a huge bag of groceries and a bottle of wine.
"No power, I wondered whether you'd consider giving me oven space?"
"How did you know I had oven space?"
"Viggo, everyone knows about your stove, when I moved in Mrs Thing upstairs warned me about you, told me you were a bit of a lunatic, that you never wore shoes and you went on wood gathering expeditions."
"And you were surprised that a stockbroker would wander about in bare feet?"
"You're a stock ... oh ha bloody ha Vig, are you going to let me in or not?"
"Oh sorry, yes," Viggo was grinning as he stood to one side and let Sean in. "God, you're freezing," he took Sean's coat and relieved him of the wine.
"That's better," slamming the door shut behind him, Sean sat in Viggo's shabby armchair as close to the heat as he could get. "My place is like an ice box."
"Now you see the advantage of being an ageing hippy," Viggo begun to prep the bird, stuffing herbs and a lemon into its cavity. He noticed Sean was staring at him.
"Like what you see?" he asked, lips twitching.
"To be honest Vig, I think you should put a bit of butter under the skin, else it's gonna be dry."
Again Viggo found himself laughing. He stood to one side and let Sean adjust the bird. His smile froze when he found his personal space invaded as arms went around his waist and drew him close.
"Thanks for this," Sean murmured, leaning closer and kissing him, his lips resting for a long moment against Viggo's, just in case he pulled away.
Viggo pressed close, his mouth opening to let Sean's tongue in, sighing in contentment as he realised how good Sean tasted and what an excellent kisser he was.
"If this was a bad porn movie," Sean mused as he begun to undress Viggo, "I'd push you over the kitchen table and fuck you dry."
"Yes but I don't like fucking over the kitchen table, I don't like eating where there are old come stains."
Sean begun to laugh, loud as loud could be. "Well the bedroom's too cold..."
"So we'll make do with my yoga mat..."
It took Sean another twenty minutes to stop laughing long enough to finish undressing Viggo and show him exactly what would have constituted a very good porn movie...