Fic: Blond

Jul. 1st, 2017 01:35 am
afra_schatz: Made by wizzicons on LJ (Default)
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Friday night Viggo returns to Arnor House a lot later than his kids and that includes the Lower Sixers whose yearly ball he, Miranda, and Sean chaperoned. The evening went well; the kids had fun and there wasn't anything to do except for taking one bottle of Vodka from Marlon Rosenberg and do the chicken dance. So they just sat around and talked about the ups and downs as heads of house since Mir is taking over from John next year. There was a bit of wine and a lot of reminiscing on Sean's and Viggo's part and that only really ended when Mir left and turned off the light with Sean and Viggo still siting in the ballroom.

Arnor House lies in peaceful silence as Viggo climbs the stairs up to his rooms, and after a quick de-tour to the bathroom, he heads straight to bed. He falls asleep pretty much instantly and the evening down memory lane finds its continuation in his dreams, only that both Kafka and Disney seem to have co-written the script to them. Viggo is the first-time director to this movie, somewhat desperately trying to keep to the script of what actually happened while all his actors ignore him with increasing frequency. Out of the blue, Karl shows up, and Viggo is about to ask him why he is coming to a staff meeting on horseback and with a long blond wig of all things. Then something changes somehow, and Viggo wakes up.

He blinks his eyes open in the darkness, thinks 'I'm awake', but his brain isn't able to go further than that. There is someone in his bedroom, bumping against the cupboard on the way to the window. Viggo's eyes follow the shadow, black against the moonlit sky outside, and the window is pulled open, cool night air wafts inside. Viggo blinks slowly and can hear the clapping of his eyelashes.

'Sorry, didn't mean to wake you.'

Eric turns around. He's wearing tracky bums and pulls his t-shirt over his head.

Viggo feels the mattress dip as Eric kneels down on it, then slips under the covers. The alarm clock on the nightstand says 3:43 in green numbers. Eric's shoulders block it from view when he shifts onto his side Viggo closes his eyes when Eric's hand cups the back of his head and presses his lips against Viggo's forehead.

'Mmm.' Viggo shifts onto his back. 'Karl looks stupid with blond hair.'

It's relevant that Eric knows that.

Viggo's thoughts grow heavy when he feels Eric's arm on his stomach, his hand on his hip, Eric's nose against the crook of his neck.

'Christopher would look stupider bald,' Eric says.

He is right of course, Viggo thinks before he falls asleep again. Like he always is.
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