Mad about the boy

Fan Fiction about Sean, non 18+

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Mad about the boy

Post by sharpshooter1 » Sun Mar 24, 2013 11:54 am

Mad about the boy.

AU A gentle loving wartime romance.
Sean and Viggo with a minor role for Dave.
Love needs no apologies. If you think it does then please don't read.
At heart this is a love story between two men.
Written by Sharpshooter [aka Peersrogue]
Also posted to LJ a couple of years ago.
Most chapter headings inspired by wartime songs
The opening chapter Inspired by Noel Cowards ‘Mad about the boy’


Chapter 1 Part 1

New York and Long Island early June 1938

Summer seemed to have come early to New York. Heat rose from the pavements, mixed with petrol fumes from slow moving traffic and fused with the sullen air. To breathe and walk required more energy than Viggo was prepared to use and he gratefully grabbed a taxi, allowing himself the pretence that the movement of the thick air through the open window felt cooler. Finally, an hour later he tossed his bag in the back of the low, elegant, Horch 855.
‘David, where did you get this honey from? She’s a beauty’ Viggo said relishing the smooth lines of the car, the soft leather and the feeling of power barely contained as the car pressed forward leaving Queens to sulk in the humid twilight. David tapped the side his nose with his finger.
‘Germany, bit hush, hush Vigs, let us simply say not quite legal.’
Soon they were speeding down the Long Island Motor Parkway, the wind cool on their faces, delirious with the spice, energy and immortality of youth; they sang along to the radio, crooning to Dorsey’s ‘Smoke gets in your eyes’ getting the words wrong then laughing and harmonizing with Sinatra as he asked ‘Do I worry?’ ‘No’ they shouted back.
Ahead of them was a party at a splendid Long Island Hamptons mansion. To be followed by a weekend of sailing, swimming and fishing.
Later that evening replete with shrimp and steamed crab Viggo relaxed outside on lounger, the terrace was filled with candles, people quietly laughing and talking. The moon stood still, filling the sky with pale transparent light and the sea endlessly, romantically, whispered its message to the sand. He had finally escaped from an old bore that had cornered him and spent forty minutes questioning him about the polo ponies bred on Viggo’s family ranch. While he loved his horses and had sailed over with the last lot of beauties to be sold in the States, tonight he was in the mood for drink and maybe romance. He sipped his Long Island Tea* and lit a cigarette, stretching out he felt his eyes almost closing.

The sudden applause, gasps and laughter enticed him out of his reverie, sitting up he looked round, curious, a group of people had just arrived and who was that man they were all fluttering around? David nudged him ‘Bloody hell, that’s only Noel Coward’
They sauntered in and watched fascinated as the slender, elegant man was handed a glass of champagne and persuaded to go to the piano and sing for his supper. Viggo leaned against a wall smiling at the music, wit and banter. He looked across the crowded room thinking how good it was to be here and have time to enjoy such an evening.

He caught the back view of a young man laughing with some friends at the bar, slightly long silky, sun blonde hair shining in the light, wide shoulders, a narrow waist, great ass, long legs. Viggo was sure he had not seen him earlier; maybe he had come with Noel Coward’s group? The young blonde’s shoulders were shaking with laughter and he then tucked whatever he was showing his friends back into his wallet and pushed it slowly into his back pocket. Viggo stood entranced, if the front was as good as the back he was a goner. David came behind him and breathed softly
‘Sean Bean, new money, father’s some bigwig engineer making and designing planes in the North of England. The boy is plane mad and piloted himself to these fair shores last week. You like what you see?’
‘David stop that, just admiring nothing else...’ shushed Viggo. ‘My friend, he came with Noel Coward’s group – might swing both ways, you could be in with a chance.’ David grabbed a flustered Viggo round the shoulders and pushed him towards the group.

‘Sean, long time, no see’ said David as they shook hands and clapped each other on the back. David continued ‘Sean may I introduce my good friend Viggo Mortensen, he is from the Argentine and breeds cattle and polo ponies.’ The blonde turned to Viggo, his smile could have lit up the whole of Long Island, strong face, gentle, friendly, green eyes. He shook Viggo’s hand, dipping his head slightly and licking his bottom lip as if suddenly shy. Then a laugh, a slap on the back and a delicious, warm voice asked ‘You’re just a posh cowboy then Viggo?’

Viggo found himself nodding in agreement and smiling insanely at the young man, unable to say a word. He had never thought you could actually be swept away and struck dumb at the same time. He had never thought you could fall into green eyes, into a smile and be lost forever. David’s smirk earned him a swift kick to the ankle
‘Get you another drink Viggo? He asked.
Viggo nodded, still smirking David turned towards the bar, looking over his shoulder at Viggo and jerking his head towards Sean.
‘You here on business or pleasure’ Viggo asked feebly.
‘Bit of both and you?’
‘Err yes, bit of both as well, you down for the weekend, um, Sean?’
‘No, the whole week, I’m staying with friends in Northport and you?’
‘No just the weekend, back Sunday night’
‘Too bloody hot in New York this time of year, you got business there?’
‘Err, no just drove down with David, business finished, loose end - erm he’s my lift back’ Viggo replied looking down at his feet.
‘Come stay over with our group, we’ve rented this great old house on the quay in Northport, they say it used to be a house of ‘ill repute’ replied Sean with a naughty smile, then asked ‘Do you sail?’
‘Yes, a little, but look I only brought an overnight bag and...’ he replied stumbling a little as a firm finger jabbed his back, he turned and glared at David.
‘Stay Vigs I am sure Sean can lend you extra clothes if needed, you look about the same size. I have a special someone waiting for me tonight. I’m down again next weekend and you can come back with me then’
So they stayed smiling at each other and making small talk, their eyes meeting occasionally and then they would both look away and start speaking at the same time. Viggo was in a place of music and enchantment, ‘Was life ever this kind?’ he found himself wondering, ‘Could you simply wander into a party in the Hamptons and find someone so perfect smiling at you?’
A few notes on the piano, then the words of the song drifted across, a soft, wistful voice singing ‘Mad about the boy...’
* Long Island Tea - Not iced tea but a wonderful, sophisticated, deadly cocktail!!!!

Chapter 2 Part 1
New York and Long Island early June 1938
Summary – the boys get closer
Song for this chapter got to be Frankie singing ‘Nevertheless.’ Smooth and goes down a treat.
David dropped them off at three in the morning. A timid sun was stretching itself somewhere out across the Atlantic, birds were stirring as David called ‘Good night’ and with a roar of the engine sped away.
The old house by the water was quiet; carrying his small bag Viggo followed Sean along the terrace.
‘Have you got a key’ he whispered
‘Nah, I’ll get Harry to let us in’
Eventually a sleepy Harry opened the door to them. Bemused Viggo found himself shaking hands and being quite formally introduced to a young man in the dark entrance. ‘British manners?’ he asked himself.
‘Ah’ said Sean ‘So Tommy’s arrived, is he in the spare room? Thing is I bought my very good friend Viggo home with me so now where can he sleep?’
A tired Viggo heard mumbling about a spare bed, and then Sean was back, close to him, looking sheepish
‘Viggo, the only place to sleep tonight is on the spare bed in my room, I’ll sleep out on the lounger on the terrace, I’m sorry but Tommy’s only staying one night and tomorrow...’
‘Sean its OK, don’t be daft I can sleep in the spare bed in your room and you can sleep in your bed – it is no problem’
‘If you’re sure, come on then.’
Viggo followed Sean his mind in turmoil, ‘Would he? Could he? Would they? Could they? Should they?’
Sean lit a small lamp, a freshening breeze lifted the white curtains, and the room seemed to glow in the gentle light. Embarrassed and as shy as two maiden aunts, they faced opposite walls scrambling out of their clothes and into their pyjamas. Sean looked at Viggo, then pointing at a bed said
‘There you go Viggo’
He stood there, a strange hesitant smile on his lips, Viggo looked at the spare bed then back at Sean, without thought or a conscious movement he saw his hand reach out towards Sean, they moved towards each other, still looking, still silent. His hand touched Sean’s chest, Sean took it and lifted it up to his lips and gently kissed it. Softly, silently they moved together, entranced by the dance of love, lips brushed, hands gently touched hair, traced cheek bones, necks were covered with soft kisses. Slowly they settled on to a bed, for once no haste, no guilt, no fear, no struggle for dominance. Simply two people who were discovering each other, their love making as gentle as the sound of the sea whispering to the shore. No fierce cries of completion, simply gentle gasps and whispers of ecstasy, then two tired lovers falling asleep, safe in each others arms.

‘Hey Sean, Viggo get up you lazy buggers, we are off to Shipwrecks for breakfast in twenty minutes.’ yelled a wide awake and commanding voice as a fist pounded on the door.
‘Harry?’ groaned Viggo
‘Yes, the bastard. Come on quick shower and then we’ll go and eat one of the best breakfasts in the world. We could of course, shower together and save time mustn’t keep Harry and the gang waiting’ smirked Sean with the devil in his eyes.
‘Too right, good old Harry’ said Viggo moving out of the bed into his lovers arms.
Later a clean, respectable pair of young men sauntered up the little main street, smiling, nodding and wishing people good morning. At Shipwrecks the gang was seated in the small sun filled patio out the back. Loud and boisterous introductions followed, Sean ordered waffles with raspberries, fresh cream and another pot of coffee. David was due later and they would take the boat out and go fishing. Viggo, dazed and smiling, sat next to Sean nodding in all the right places for suddenly he understood that a lifetime of happiness can be discovered in a simple second of perfection. In his soul he knew he would remember this moment till the end of his days. Sean’s arm slung over the back of a chair, each golden hair on his arm glowing and perfect in the sunshine, the laughter lines near his eyes and lips, the sudden glance of those green eyes owning him, telling him he was wanted. The sound of laughter, the call of the gulls, the smell of coffee, the taste of tart raspberries nestled in warm sweet waffles and bathed in rich, decadent cream, Viggo knew if he only had this one day, he could live all his life from that memory.

Chapter 3 Part 1 Long Island early June 1938
Summary – Reality and dreams
Horseshoe crab beach
Song for this chapter got to be Frankie singing ‘The summer wind.’ Hot sun, warm sand, hot kisses...

Wednesday, they asked Shipwrecks to make them up a picnic and Viggo and Sean took one of the cars and drove out to Horseshoe crab beach. It was quiet; a sea bird dropped a shell fish onto the small cement parking lot, and then swooped down to eat from the broken shell. A man called to his dog and they both disappeared into the distance.

They sat quietly together, there were things to say, things that needed to be said. Suddenly shy they sipped the cold beer and scuffed the sand with their feet.
‘Come, come and see them, the horseshoe crabs, they are wonderful, come on’ Sean pulled Viggo to his feet; they paddled at the water’s edge then Viggo saw one, ancient, different, apart from and yet still a part of this modern world.
‘A ranger last year told me they were living fossils’ enthused Sean pointing to another one.
‘I can see that, they are like nothing I have ever seen before’ replied Viggo. ‘This is like nothing I have ever felt before’ he mentally added.
They wandered back to their blanket and opened a couple more bottles of beer.
‘Sean is this serious or maybe just a summer affair? I must tell you this is something I have never felt before. I have had a few affairs with guys and girls but this is different, I am different this time. Where are we Sean?’
‘I reckon this might be love, although it’s not supposed to happen between two men. I’ve never wanted a woman, you know, not like that. Had a few fumbles and a couple of hot weekends with other men, but you’re right, I just feel different. I feel complete, that I do not have to go out there looking for anything or anybody. He paused then whispered ‘never again.’ Sean lay stretched out on his back his eyes closed to the sun.

Leaning on his elbow next to him and drawing lazy circles on Sean’s warm brown chest Viggo asked
‘Do your parents or family know how you feel Sean?’
‘Not really, my older brother is married and has already got a couple of great children so no pressure on me to get married and provide the grandchildren and heirs. My sister is engaged and yes, I think she knows, she once hugged me and told me not to worry, not everyone is the marrying kind. Thing is Viggo, we have to be discrete, we can’t tell anyone how we feel, we can’t mention love or that we want to be together. We could both end up in prison, our families names ruined and dragged through the mud’ Sean finished sadly.
‘I know, I know and you’re right. I’m an only child, my parents are already pushing me to get married, settle down. They want to have grandchildren and a future heir for the Mortensen land and money in the years to come. I don’t blame them what else would they expect from their only child; but I can’t ruin someone else’s life by marrying a young woman but not being able to give her my love. Also how can I live without love? We have something here that we cannot throw away or deny. I do not think I can live a lie, I want to be with you every minute ...’ Viggo ran out of words.
‘I think we must be content with snatching what we can here and there just say we are ‘friends’ perhaps get away occasionally with good friends like Dave or Harry to act as chaperones.’ Sean added sadly.
‘Yes, I suppose we are luckier than most, to at least have a few friends who don’t condemn us.’ Viggo bent over and brushed his mouth on the tiny warm red nipple.
Listen, I have to go home soon, my parents want to do their annual European tour and I should go back to take care of the land, horses and cattle, come with me, come to the Argentine. You ride, yes?
‘Badly, but yes I can ride and I still have a couple of weeks to spare; the only thing I am really good at is flying, I’ll ride horses if you will let me fly you down.’
‘Done’ said Viggo and lay down next to Sean, it was a compromise a few weeks here and there, but the blessing of love, even in secret was worth the sacrifice.

On Friday night they all went out to the latest ‘hot’ dance hall. It was crowded, the music was good, the girls pretty and the men handsome. They leant against the bar smiling at the crowded swirl of the dancers,
Harry had a captured a sleek blond and was smirking and winking at them over her shoulder. Viggo’s feet started tapping; Sean raised an eyebrow, grinned and then leant close to Viggo saying
‘Hey, you can dance with the pretty ladies’ then lowering his voice and pouting his lips he whispered ‘Sweetie pie, you can dance all you like but promise me you’ll only go home with your baby?
Viggo giggled and choked as he swallowed his JD on the rocks the wrong way. ‘You not going to dance?’ he asked
‘Nah got two left feet me. I am happy propping up the bar and watching your fine arse in action.’
Viggo smirked over his shoulder and wandered over to invite a bubbly, dark haired girl watching the dance floor to dance with him. Over her shoulder he caught sight of Sean giving him thumbs up and fluttering his eye lashes. ‘One day I will take you in my arms, we will press against each other and dance’ Viggo promised himself.

Chapter 4 Part 1
Argentina July 1938
Summary – Two souls entwine
This chapter inspired by ‘A Media Luz Tango’ sung by the great Argentine singer Carlos Gardel. Sadly they don’t write romantic songs like this anymore!

The following week they took off from La Guardia and with frequent stops to rest and refuel they finally landed in the Argentine, leaving Sean’s plane safely in a hanger at the military airport in Mar de la Plata. They then began the long, tiring car journey to the interior and the Mortensen ranch.
‘Bloody hell Vig are we nearly there yet? Are we ever going to get there? How much longer? How much farther is it now? moaned Sean, tired, dusty and getting fractious like a bored child.
Viggo smiled and patted his lover’s knee, ‘Soon be there and I can tuck you up into bed and let you get a good night’s sleep.’ He wondered when he had become Vig? Sean’s name for him.
‘Tuck in bed yes, a good night’s sleep? I am disappointed, I was expecting more than that’ Sean laughed back.

Once at the ranch and under the watchful eye of the servants they were circumspect and took few chances, sometimes managing to share a bed in the quiet afternoon doldrums. Whispering, holding each other close, indulging their bodies, sharing moments of passion that left them breathless, aching, yet thirsty for more.

Viggo had worried that Sean would get bored, and was delighted to find that Sean was enjoying the days out riding across the endless plains. Copying the way the gauchos rode, trying to meld himself to be at one with the horse. All too soon their little stock of days was running out.
‘Tomorrow night I want it to be really special. The moon will be full; we can ride out, cook a parillada*, drink wine and sleep under the moon, just you and me – no servants I promise’ Viggo said.

They left early; Viggo had even included a mule loaded with odd shaped packages. Sean eyed the mule and the packages suspiciously.
Vig it’s...’ he started
‘Shssh, not a word, it’s the portable barbeque, our bed rolls and food, wine, water etc so don’t start moaning’
Sean laughed, his head thrown back, the sun in eyes. ‘Old woman’ he teased and then turned and galloped off. Viggo swallowed and shivered, so little time left, maybe next year they would be able to do it all over again. Maybe?

A day of laughter and racing each other across the everlasting pampas and now at dusk they were making camp. Viggo lighting the charcoal, then a fire, opening the wine, Sean rubbing down the horses making sure they and the mule were fed and watered. They had camped in a little arroyo in the plains, a few scrubby trees, and the land still warm from the sun. Viggo looked across, Sean was sipping his wine and smoking, very quiet and thoughtful; unusual for him.
‘You OK?
‘Yes, I was just imagining if only we could do this forever. Run a few cattle, race across the plains, sleep out under the stars. Be together every day, answering to no one, no responsibilities except for ourselves.’
Viggo had no answer to the longing in Sean’s voice which mirrored the longing in his heart. ‘Why was it so wrong and forbidden to love as they did? Was it so wicked that they had to hide such a love and never speak to others of an evening such as this?’ he asked himself sadly. ‘One day’ he thought ‘I will celebrate this, one day I will boast of the love of my life, one day - maybe?’
The meat was tender, spicy and eaten hungrily with fingers for forks.
After they had eaten, they finished the wine and set a small pot of coffee to bubble gently on the fire.
Viggo said ‘Now for my little surprise.’ With his back to Sean he took a large packet from a blanket, ferreted around and then with a lot of muttering, tugging and twisting finally turned back to Sean holding out a rather small and battered wind up gramophone.
‘Not a word’ he said, as Sean started frowning, his mouth already forming ‘daft bugger...?’
He took several records from a second blanket, put one on the turntable, wound it up and pulled Sean to his feet.
‘I once made a promise to myself that I would dance with you, hold you close to me and we would move together to the music. No, hush do not tell me you cannot dance, listen, we will dance the tango a beautiful, sexy, seductive dance from my country, this song is called A Media Luz, ‘Half light’, it sings of a love hidden like ours sadly is. Sean will you dance with me?’ asked Viggo bowing. Sean’s eyes seemed for a moment full of tears then he blinked, smiled and replied ‘I will dance with you Viggo’

In the moonlight enslaved by the music they wound around each other. Their feet dragging circles in the dust, a cheek bone, an eye, a lock of hair caught and gilded by the firelight. At the edge of the land the moon rose and lit their dance, the air was full of ancient magic, the world had disappeared the only thing that existed was two people in love, dancing.

While they had loved under the wide skies of the Argentine the world had not waited for them. In September a violent hurricane had devastated and destroyed many lives and much of Long Island; it was like an evil portent in a world that seemed to be slowly sliding into an abyss. In Spain a grim and terrible civil war was being fought, brother slaughtering brother. In September Chamberlain had feebly announced ‘Peace in our time’ but the omens promised war.
They wrote often, simple friendly letters that would not compromise them if found and read by another.
One letter Viggo received, folded and put away half read. He saddled up and galloped alone for several hours far out across the pampas, he frantically wanted to gallop on, through the skies, across the ocean. He wanted to grab Sean and bring him back, back to the safety and shelter to be found in the open, in the open plains. Dismounting he sat and drew the letter from his pocket, rereading that awful paragraph
‘ dad says he thinks we will be at war by next year. I am going to volunteer for the RAF in the New Year, do my bit. Any chance you could make it over here for Christmas? It might be our last chance for a few years. I have got a little bolt hole in London we can hide away in and then visit my parents for a few days over Christmas. I told Megs, my sister, about you, about what good friends we are. She would like to meet you. Please say you will consider it. Hell, if you like I can even get Megs to buy one of your horses. Business and pleasure? What do you say? Say yes ...’
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Post by morvgal58 » Mon Mar 25, 2013 3:58 pm

Lovely story, Sharps, and beautifully written. The "TBC" is promising, though Sean's choice of the RAF fills me with forboding.
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Post by sharpshooter1 » Mon Mar 25, 2013 8:00 pm

Thank you very much for your kind comments morvgal58. Much appreciated.

Sunday's story opens what I think I should call a novella. I am hoping to post thrice a week as it is quite long.
Once again a big thank you.

p.s. I don't think you will be disappointed!
Last edited by sharpshooter1 on Tue Mar 26, 2013 12:13 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Moominmamma » Mon Mar 25, 2013 10:10 pm

I love this story, which I first read on LJ. I am so glad that you decided to share it here and am enjoying it all over again! :-D
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Post by loucifer67 » Tue Mar 26, 2013 8:28 am

This was lovely
The best birthday present by far
I'm looking forward to this continuing

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Post by sharpshooter1 » Tue Mar 26, 2013 8:32 am

Thank you dear Mooms - I was going through my files and reread this story - I am very happy you are enjoying it the second time around I loved researching and writing this story and I thought it might be nice to post on dear TMB. :smile:
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Post by sharpshooter1 » Tue Mar 26, 2013 8:35 am

Lou - Belated very happy birthday. Thank you so much for your lovely comment. Delighted you are enjoying this story - it is close to my heart as well.
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Post by Way2prickly » Tue Mar 26, 2013 1:41 pm

I love your stories - you have such a way with words. It's like being wrapped in a sensuous blanket and being carried away to another world.
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Post by sharpshooter1 » Tue Mar 26, 2013 1:59 pm

Bless you Way2prickly what a lovely compliment. Thank you very much
Will be posting the second part tomorrow.
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Post by sharpshooter1 » Wed Mar 27, 2013 10:05 am

Chapter 5 Part 2
New York and London
Summary – Reunited
Not true – just spinning a love story
Song has to be ‘London Pride’ written and sung by the unique Noel Coward.

New York December 1938
Towards the end of November Viggo left the warm sunshine of the Argentine and flew to New York, stopping over for a few days on his way to London.
‘David it is so good to see you again’ they greeted each other warmly, shaking hands, clasping shoulders, smiling and nodding, then settled down to order dinner. Viggo was frozen after spending the day shopping for warm clothes and that elusive special present for Sean.
‘You were over in London recently?’ he asked.
‘Yes, and yes I saw Sean, he is fine, and yes as happy as a crazy cat with two tails, knowing that he is going to see you again.’

‘David did you ask why he is going to volunteer, surely it won’t come to this, surely you are not really going to fight Germany? Sean won’t fight – will he?’
David smiled at the waiter ‘Bring us two whiskeys first, I think the Glen Morangie please, no ice. We’ll order in a little while.’

‘Viggo’ he said quietly ‘I know you are far away in Argentina with plenty of your own political problems. Maybe it seems this is just a stupid European spat playing out halfway across the world or perhaps nothing more serious than over heated press speculation. However, I concur with the opinion that we will soon be at war with Germany, possibly by the end of next year if not sooner. Sean has special skills, he is a very good pilot he is used to test piloting for his father’s aircraft concerns. He will offer those skills to his country in its time of need. Viggo, you know him, he can do no less than this.’

‘But, if war comes he could just train new pilots. He doesn’t have to fight he could get out of it, couldn’t he?’ Viggo asked.
‘Maybe Viggo, maybe.’ David raised his glass of whisky ‘Cheers. I hear they do wonderful porterhouse steaks here served with baked potatoes large enough to feed a whole family. Sound good to you? Waiter.’

On board ship 1938

Viggo left by ship three days later, the crossing was smooth. On board in the bars and at dinner he listened to war speculation and tried not to be drawn on giving an opinion. As the news from all over Europe began to sink in, it seemed inappropriate, childish and cowardly to say he wanted to kidnap his lover and lock him away from any war, no matter how just.

He stood some nights on the cold deck looking at the merciless stars, remembering the taste of raspberries and waffles, the perfect golden hairs on a bare arm warm in the sun. Every cell in his body remembered the feel of their bodies entwining and moving as one to the rhythm of the tango. He felt for the small box in his pocket, turning it over and over in his hand and praying to an understanding and loving God he had just invented and wanted to believe in desperately ‘Keep him safe, keep him safe, please, please, please.’

They docked in Southampton early one grey morning; he walked down the gang plank, trying to make out that well loved face in the gloom.
‘Hey Vigs over here.’ He was home.
The baggage was quickly stowed in Sean’s low slung, racy drophead Bentley coupe. A warming gulp of cognac, rugs in place and they set off for London. Down misty, twisting, winding roads between high hedges, through small villages, not a leaf to be seen on the trees in a land folded up and tucked neatly away for the winter. As they drove Viggo looked around, everything looked so small even the sky seemed to be hanging just above their heads. Yet, there was Sean, handsome, laughing, larger than life, his capable, long fingered hands gently guiding the steering wheel, stroking the gears and the car purring under his ministrations.

They found so many things to say, interrupting each other, asking, answering, listening, and rushing in with new topics and feelings. Viggo felt as if he had not spoken since he last saw Sean, as if he had had nothing to say unless it was to be said to Sean. They kept grinning and checking each other out.
‘Great tan Vigs, lucky you, brass monkeys over here’
‘Brass monkeys?’ queried Viggo at a loss.
‘Cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey’
Vig started laughing ‘A brass monkey? You are one crazy Englishman’
‘Yeah, but I am your crazy Englishman.’
‘Oh yes, always and forever’ replied Viggo ‘Forever’ his mind repeated.

Chapter 6 part2
London, December 1938
Song: Lovely to look at ~ sung by Irene Dunne

London was crowded, dirty, busy and full of purposeful people scurrying hither and thither. The river was sullen and grey, a glimpse of the docks impressed him, ships and cranes in movement, a whole world of commerce and noise. He realised suddenly that London was the capital city of an empire and if war came, yes it would come here. He shuddered seeing in his mind the cranes outlined in glowing red flames.

They were away along the embankment, then leaving the river, the car turned and slipped through the traffic on a winding busy road and within minutes they had pulled into a tiny street, full of little houses with brightly painted front doors. The car gently rocked to a halt.
‘Welcome Vigs, this is ‘our’ home in London.’
The front door was an elegant dark blue, a small evergreen tree shivered in a pot by the step. Keys jangled, Viggo grabbed his case and Sean opened the door with a flourish and ushered Viggo in.

‘Yoo hoo Mr Bean, I’ve built up the fire and there’s a stew on the range, do you gentlemen nice for later. Right, I’ll have to pop off now as my Harold is not himself today. Be in tomorrow, ta ta for now’

Viggo wasn’t too sure of the age or indeed sex of the busy, warmly wrapped little person who smiled and bustled passed him the hall. He raised his eyebrows at Sean who smiled and said ‘Maisie, Maisie King she does for me when her Harold permits, he has a lot of bad days you see.’
‘Right’ said Viggo carefully.
Indeed the tiny house was warm and the smell of furniture polish mingled heartily with the welcome smell of a simmering beef stew.

However thoughts of stew, fire and Harold vanished as Sean and Viggo fell hungrily into each others arms. ‘Quick, bedroom upstairs’ muttered Sean as he dragged Viggo up tiny wooden stairs which bent abruptly to the left, Viggo felt his knee crack against the wood. He had a brief impression of a large bed and a good fire in the grate, then he was full of Sean, full of the feel of his strong body, those large hands, those long fingers. The delicate touch of eyelashes against his cheek as Sean, his eyes closed, kissed him deeply. The unique smell of Sean’s body imprinted upon him since that first night in Northport, the remembered dance of their love making. ‘How I have missed this’ he whispered as Sean moved against him.

Later in the small sitting room they ate bowls of stew and drank dark peaty ale from a stone bottle. By three o’clock the day had decided not to bother putting in an appearance and a dark gloom instead pressed against the tiny windows. Sean pulled the curtains and they were hidden away, safe in a world of warmth, firelight and shadows.

Chapter 7 – Part 2
December 1938
Song? it’s got to be ‘A foggy day in London town’ try the Michael Buble version.

They woke next morning to find fog pressing against the windows
‘Bloody pea souper’ announced Sean ‘Oh dear, we will have to stay home tucked up warm by the fire or in bed maybe?’
He smiled across at a rumpled and bemused Viggo emerging from under the covers ‘Pea souper?’ he queried, puzzled and shaking his head.
Sean laughed answering ‘Fog, London fog, it’s as thick as a bowl of pea soup. You know, like you can’t see the bottom of your plate when it’s full of pea soup’
Shaking his head Viggo wisely filed pea soup with brass monkeys and kept quiet. Wrapping his robe around him he went and stood behind Sean, folding his arms around him, hugging him and looking out at the strange, silent, yellow fog that isolated them.

The front door banged, followed by a small coughing fit, then a voice called ‘Yoo hoo Mr Bean, just popped in for an hour to get you and your gentleman friend something hot for breakfast. Porridge and kippers alright? I’ve got a nice bit of lamb shank I’ll fix it and leave it on the range so you can have hotpot for later.’

‘Yes fine Maisie, many thanks, didn’t expect you this morning, how’s Harold?’ Sean called back as he fumbled into slacks and a warm sweater
‘He’s down sir, he’s very down, the fog gets up his tubes’.
Viggo lay on the bed smothering his laughter ‘Fog up his tubes? Kippers? What on earth are kippers and lamb shank and hotpot?’
A pillow landed on top of him and then Sean rushed through into the tiny spare bed room, pulled the bed covers down rumpled them and the pillow, then smothering his laughter dragged Viggo and pushed him into the spare room.
‘Dress now’ Sean hissed ‘That’s a first’ replied Viggo batting his eyelashes and pursing his lips into a kiss. Viggo continued ‘Ah, what a gentleman you are Sean protecting my maidenly virtue.’

At the breakfast table like two naughty school boys they giggled as Viggo stirred and gingerly tasted his porridge. He looked across at Sean and pulled a face, Sean pushed the pot of honey across the table.
‘Stir some honey in, it needs sweetening’
‘It needs something’ mumbled Viggo.
He tried his tea, thinking longingly of some mate or coffee. Maisie came in with a glass bottle.
‘Being as you are a foreign gentleman, Mr Bean thought you might like some coffee, you pour a bit in your cup, then you add either hot milk or a drop of hot water to mix it with’
Sean waggled his eyebrows, choking with laughter as Viggo suspiciously poured some of the thick liquid coffee into his cup.
‘Hot water I think, thank you, erm Maisie’
‘Pleasure sir, pleasure.’ She said as she poured the water.
He sipped it, not too bad, and then read the label. Camp Coffee*. ‘Oh yes’ he thought ‘A certain naughty someone is going to pay for that tonight’
‘Your face is a picture’ laughed Sean
Viggo fought with his kipper, managing to scrape some smoky flesh off, chew it and then quickly wash it down with coffee but he did enjoy filling up on the toast and marmalade.

An hour later Sean paid Maisie, tucked her scarf around her neck, kissed her cheek and whispered. ‘Little something extra today, you might need a drop of Port or Brandy for Harold and a bit more coal in this damp weather.'
Maisie smiled up at him. ‘Thank you, a blessing on this earth you are sir and no mistake’

Two days of love, listening to music, long discussions about politics, books read, plays seen, music enjoyed, life and the universe. They cooked breakfast together in the kitchen, bacon, eggs and sausages smothered in strange brown, spicy sauce. Like an old married couple they set the table together, always sat in the same chairs then rinsed and dried the dishes together. The morning of the third day Viggo woke to a different country, sun streamed in through the tiny bedroom window. He could hear Sean and Maisie laughing downstairs,
‘Oh no’ he muttered to himself ‘not porridge and kippers again.’

They spent a day Christmas shopping, stocking up on treats from Fortnum and Masons to take with them to Yorkshire. They bought fine cigars and elegant ties for the gentlemen. Silk scarves and gloves chosen with care for the ladies, a train set from Hamleys for a fine nephew and a beautiful doll for a dainty niece. They decided they would have a little private Christmas before they drove up to join Sean’s family in Sheffield.

On the morning of December 15th they drove a few miles through cramped streets full of tiny houses that huddled cosily against each other. Finally Sean parked and getting out tossed a shilling at an urchin who was admiring the car,
‘Another one coming your way if you make sure it stays in one piece’
The lad nodded vigorously, folded his arms, puffed out his chest and glared at the other children. Sean and Viggo dragged the large hamper out of the car and carried it up polished steps. Sean knocked on the door. A few minutes later it was half opened then pulled open wide.
‘Oh Mr Bean, sir what are you doing here and ...’ she stopped tears filled her eyes as she looked at the hamper. Her hand went to her mouth ‘You shouldn’t ...’ she began. ‘Yes I should, you’re a dear friend Maisie and I just know you are going to invite Viggo and me in and give us strong tea and a slice each of the best Christmas cake made in England.’
They carried the hamper down the narrow hall into a warm kitchen A grey faced old man sat by the fire, his knees covered with a blanket, milky blind eyes turned to them, a cough rattling in his chest.
Maisie leant down and whispered in his ear, a smile lit his face, he put out his hand ‘Put it there Mr Bean, welcome, Maisie cuppa tea and a slice of cake for Mr Bean’ they shook hands long and hard ‘It’ll have to be two cups and two slices I have a friend with me all the way from Argentina where the corned beef comes from.’
Viggo leant forward smiling and captured the hand ‘A pleasure to meet you Mr King’
‘Harold, call me Harold. Cor blimey* fancy that, you’re a long way from home young feller, sit down, sit down’
A tray of tea and a plate of thick gleaming slices of fruit cake, edged with icing appeared. As they sat eating in the half light of the fire, talk turned to the prospect of war.
Harold said ‘You want to watch yourself Sean, be your turn next. Done my bit thank the Lord, he brought me home safe to my Maisie.’ Hands fumbled for each other and Maisie wiped her tears on the corner of her apron.
Sean tapped him on his leg ‘Nay I’m going be a fly boy, safe up in the sky not like you poor sods were, down in the mud.’ Harold sighed and shook his head, he knew when the guns started firing there was nowhere safe to be, that even silver planes could fall burning to earth. Viggo swallowed and looked at his love, laughing and warm by the fire; Maisie caught his glance and smiled nodding gently and knowingly at him. Viggo took her into his heart, someone else who accepted that love came in many ways.
It was dark when they left and Sean threw the urchin another shilling and with good wishes for Christmas and the New Year they drove off.
‘How...’ started Viggo
‘Bloody mustard gas, blinded him and shot his lungs to pieces. He’s a good chap and his wife is a diamond. Stop worrying I’ll be fine.’ Viggo stayed silent.

That night they took a taxi and dined out in a magical London filled with lights and music. Good food and plenty of wine and champagne saw them stagger out of a taxi in the early hours. Eventually they managed to line up the key with the lock, open the door and fall inside. They banked the downstairs fire and tossed a little more coal on the bedroom fire. The wind was coming from the North and they were soon snuggled down in bed, Viggo had a little box in his hand, he turned and met Sean turning with a little square packet in his hand. They laughed and kissed, then exchanged their presents. Viggo opened his, smiled, then his eyes filled with tears; in a beautiful silver frame was a photograph of them both, laughing in the sun and sitting close to each other on Shipwrecks’ back patio. That magic moment captured forever. He held it against his heart.
Sean opened his, a beautiful gold medallion on a thick chain, he looked at it closely ‘St Michael how did you ...?’
‘I asked David if there was a special saint to look after airmen, he told me over here they had adopted St Michael as their patron saint in 1918 – so where ever you go, when I’m not with you, he will watch over you.’ He took it and put it around Sean’s neck, as he closed the clasp he bent and delicately placed a kiss on the nape of Sean’s neck saying a prayer to his own personal, understanding God to keep him safe. They loved and then slept deeply, waking later than they planned. Hurriedly they loaded the car with presents and food and then sped off through the frost tipped air heading north to Sheffield.

*Cor blimey – old London Cockney phrase meaning ‘God blind me if what I say is not true’
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Post by loucifer67 » Wed Mar 27, 2013 2:52 pm

Just lovely
Cant wait for the next installment

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Post by Moominmamma » Wed Mar 27, 2013 3:28 pm

Another lovely instalment. I do like the way you use the songs to head the chapters and they are all such approriate choices! :-D
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Post by sharpshooter1 » Wed Mar 27, 2013 3:41 pm

Dear Lou - many thanks for your comment you are so kind - next posting hopefully should be on Saturday 30th.
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Post by sharpshooter1 » Wed Mar 27, 2013 3:42 pm

Mooms - again big thank you for your comments- Yes I love to use songs for inspirations. Heard Noel Coward singing 'mad about the boy' and a smiling Sean popped up in my head and that was it - I was away writing almost immediately!
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Post by Way2prickly » Thu Mar 28, 2013 12:26 am

Happily curled up waiting for the next installment! Love it!
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