Viggo watched Orlando come into the kitchen for a third glass of water and grinned.
Once again he strolled the long way around the table craning his neck to see what 
Viggo was doing. With a quiet giggle from Viggo at how obvious Orlando was being, he
made a show of covering the list he was writing. Finally it was too much for Orlando;
his curiosity got the better of him and he leant on the back of a vacant chair and 
groaned, "I give up ... what are you doing?"

Viggo chuckled at Orlando's pained expression and shrugged, "Just writing a list of
where I can get some books."

"Um Viggo, look around," Orlando said with a flourish of his hand.

Rather than taking the bait, Viggo just nodded and tapped his list, "These are for 
the shelter."

With his curiosity peaked, Orlando pulled out the chair and sat down. He turned the 
sketchbook slightly askew so he could read Viggo's scrawled list. There were single 
words, half formed ideas and the word 'purgatory' traced over a few times next to 
what seemed to be business hours. Orlando frowned and gave Viggo a quizzical look, 
"Purgatory?"

"It's a room in the library where they put the books ready for pulping," Viggo 
explained, "the librarian said I could help myself. I sorted a couple of bags worth,
but that was all I could carry."

Orlando nodded and gave him a clearly delighted smile, "You went there and organised
this with the librarians, yeah?"

"Yeah," Viggo rolled his eyes a little embarrassed when Orlando continued to grin 
broadly at him. "I thought I might take them to the shelter tomorrow while Sean's at
his meeting."

"With 'the suits'," Orlando groaned and grimaced, "I still remember the first time I
met Sean in his designer suit, designer haircut and designer attitude." He laughed 
and sat back in his chair, "Don't get me wrong, I thought he had definite potential,
but ..."

Viggo thought back to his first meeting with Sean ... the sick feeling in his 
stomach at Sean's look of disgust before he'd turned his back. 

Orlando noticed the change in Viggo's expression and clearly remembered Sean's 
initial reaction to the shop's 'resident transient'. He knew then that it still hurt
and said gently, "But we got him to look beyond the profit line didn't we Vig?"

"Yeah," Viggo smiled and tried to shake off the memory, "Although seeing him look 
out his suit ready for tomorrow made me wonder."

Orlando frowned and said with undeniable certainty, "Nah, he can put the suit on, 
but it won't take him long to see it doesn't fit anymore."

Viggo gave a moment's thought to Orlando's words and was about to query the logic, 
but Orlando had already switched topics. "I can help you sort them," he said looking
back at the list, "and we can get Sean to move them in his car."

He knew Orlando meant well, but Viggo gave him a small apologetic smile said gently,
"Maybe ... maybe later, but right now, I need to do this."


~*~


The weight of the book bags made Viggo's fingers ache. He stopped for a minute and
shifted the handles before continuing down the path. Despite the discomfort, it felt
good to be outside again. Two weeks had passed since he saw Henry and Viggo hadn't
ventured out of the shop or Sean's apartment. He knew the others had noticed and 
seemed to take turns in making sure he was okay. As soon as Sean had something to do
Orlando would appear ... it crossed Viggo's mind that they were actually keeping 
watch because the backpack definitely seemed to spook Sean. Viggo shook his head, 
just because I need to know I can go if I need to doesn't mean I will ... 

By the time he reached the shelter door Viggo's breathing was coming in short puffs,
partly through the exertion of the long walk carrying the books, but also a 
reluctance to step up into the foyer. It was different today; he was stronger and 
clean, but it was still a reminder of what he'd been ... and what he could so easily
be again. With a deep breath and nervous swallow, he pushed the door open and 
stepped inside.

He hovered at the door and watched the scene inside very tempted to just leave the 
books, turn around and walk back to the shop. It was at that point he saw Barbara 
watching; she smiled and waved him over. "Viggo! It's good to see you," she glanced
at the bags and said, "Those look suspiciously like books."

Viggo smiled and nodded. He held up one of the bags despite the strain on his 
fingers and said quietly, "I got them from the library ... they have a lot more."

"Thank you Viggo. The last books you brought us were a huge success." She took the 
bags from him and put them on the reception desk, "Come on through to the kitchen. 
I'm due for a break and would love some company." Without waiting for a reply she 
headed in the direction of the kitchen knowing he would follow.

As soon as they were seated at the table, Barbara gave him a gentle smile and asked,
"So Viggo, how are you?"

Viggo shrugged and said softly, "Better I guess." Barbara nodded, but noticed how he
kept his eyes on his hands and picked nervously at a callous where his pencil 
usually rested. She knew to leave it there and asked instead, "How's Sean?"

"He's having lunch with his friends," Viggo answered in a guarded manner, but after 
a moment's silence he sighed and looked at her with a smile, "Sean's good ... he 
worries about me a lot."

Barbara chuckled and stood up to pour the boiling water into the waiting mugs. Viggo
sat quietly while she carried the mugs to the table and took her seat. She pulled 
the lid off the biscuit tin and frowned, "Not many left I'm afraid. I raided the 
chocolate ones earlier." Barbara watched him carefully while he slowly reached into 
the tin, took a biscuit and placed it beside his mug. His actions were still of a 
man uncomfortable in his surroundings, but he'd come a very long way in the last few
months. She took a bite of her biscuit and said through the crumbs, "You know, it's
okay that he worries. We all worry about people we care about, even when they don't
need it."

With a nod and a hint of a smile, Viggo picked up his own biscuit and took a bite. 


~*~


Viggo dropped his clothes on the floor and stepped into the shower. It wasn't that 
he felt dirty ... it was more to reinforce the understanding that he could stay 
clean.

He stood under the force of the shower; head dropped forward as the jet hit the back
of his neck and sluiced down his back. For several minutes he just closed his eyes 
and gave in to the soothing sensation of the water. He'd talked to Barbara for a lot
longer than he'd intended. They'd discussed the books, setting up some shelves ... 
and somehow she also managed to get him to let slip the occasional comment about 
himself. She's good at her job, Viggo realised.

With a slight moan, he straightened up and tilted his head back to let the water 
stream over his face. His open mouth soon filled with water and he grinned as it 
spilled over his lips and down his body. It felt good.

He reached for the shampoo and the smell of peppermint filled the misted bathroom. 
It brought back the first night he smelt that shampoo and what he was like then ... 
dirty, frightened and ashamed. He picked up the white bar of soap and turned it over
and over in his hands while he slowly let the image go. It was only then that Viggo
allowed his soapy hand on his skin. When it slid down his stomach there was a nearly
forgotten familiarity to the body he felt beneath his fingers ... some of the sharp 
angles had softened, along with his revulsion of being touched. 

He watched the progress of his hand ... tiny bubbles were left in the trail of hair 
around his bellybutton until they were rinsed away by the rivulets of warm water. 
Viggo paused and closed his eyes ... the water ran soft and warm over his belly and
down his thighs. His hand hovered for a moment before returning to its path. Still 
soapy fingers slipped easily between his legs and settled just under his cock
holding barely tight enough to feel himself start to lengthen and swell. Take your
time, he reminded himself knowing there weren't a dozen other men waiting for their
chance to remove some of the street from their skin.

Viggo opened his eyes at the memory of rough and rushed release and gently pulled 
his hand away. He stood with his open palms pressed against the tiles of the shower 
stall until all the soap was rinsed off.

With his hair towelled dry, he paused in the doorway of the bedroom. He'd been with 
Sean for almost six months, but still felt the compulsion to glance over his 
shoulder expecting to be told he shouldn't be here. Viggo shook his head and looked 
back at the bed that Sean had made up with fresh linen that morning ... every Sunday
morning. 

He walked over, brushed his fingers across Sean's pillow and smiled briefly before 
turning his gaze to his own pillow. Viggo moved slowly around to his side of the 
bed, carefully turned back the covers and smoothed his palm over the fresh white 
sheet ... cool and clean. 

Viggo unwrapped the towel from his waist and laid it within reach on the edge of the
bed.

Naked, he stretched ... each muscle tensed to be slowly released so that he felt his
body relax against the cool of the bed. His bed ... he rolled the thought over in 
his mind and reached his arm across the mattress to cover the space Sean would fill.
Viggo closed his eyes ...

He could hear the faint stir of the curtain as the breeze, warm with the first hints
of summer, blew softly through the open window. It caressed his bare skin and for 
the first time in what seemed an eternity Viggo did not feel at war with his body. 
There was no real ache of ever-present fatigue ... and he didn't fight the stirrings
of need.

Keeping his eyes closed, Viggo's hand came to rest on his stomach. He let the heat 
of his palm seep through his skin before he moved it slowly down. He was already 
hard, but avoided touching his cock, sliding along the crease of his thigh instead.
Still slightly damp from the shower, his fingers glided over the smooth skin taking
 in the changes of texture of hairlines. The other hand mirrored the first, each 
making their own slow progress.

Viggo exhaled a shaky breath and raised his hips slightly allowing further 
exploration. The breeze had picked up and, though still warm, it quickly cooled the
path of pre-come that dribbled down his shaft.

Finally Viggo groaned and relented. The flat of his fingers skimmed the underside of
his cock before encircling and tightening their grip. His hand moved deliberately, 
stroking himself in long slow downward sweeps so his fingers rubbed against now 
tight balls. Images danced through his mind of Sean touching him, kissing him ... 
all aberrant thoughts blocked and forgotten for now. His other hand lifted to his 
mouth and the faint trace of sweat and desire passed over his lips.

Viggo eyes were firmly closed while he moaned around his fingers. His hips rose from
the bed encouraging his hand into a more urgent rhythm ... harder, faster, squeezing
around the swollen head. Breathing became more difficult ... his breath came in 
grunted grasps until he felt it start ... the tension in his belly and balls became 
a shock wave that rapidly built and spread. Fingers faltered and with a hoarse cry, 
Viggo came.


~*~


A whole different world. The phrase passed through Sean's mind for the umpteenth 
time that day as he parked his car in his 'spot' near the shop. When he turned the 
key in the ignition killing the engine, Sean reached up and loosened his tie.

Seeing his old friends had unnerved him a lot more than he'd anticipated. The brief 
lunch meeting had extended out to several hours and he had slipped far too easily 
into his 'executive' mindset. Talk about closing files had morphed into discussions 
of his returning at the end of the year without him even noticing the shift in the 
conversation. It was all mapped out ... he would complete his year in exile and 
return to the fold.

His stomach rolled, possibly from the rich food and midday alcohol, but more likely 
the thought of turning his back on the life he had built ... was building, with 
Viggo.

Sean reached into the glove-box and grabbed a long forgotten packet of cigarettes, 
lit one and wound the window down. The year was half over and every time that 
realisation dawned Sean had managed to push it to the back of his mind, but he knew
he needed to start making decisions. He inhaled deeply and leant back against the 
seat before letting out the long stream of smoke. Up until that moment his fear had 
been that Viggo would leave, but now he had to consider that he'd be the one to 
leave ... let the lease run out on the shop and pick up where he left off. Sean 
frowned and stabbed the cigarette butt into the ashtray.

He stepped out of the car and looked up at the building that housed his current life.

By the time his key was in the door to his apartment Sean's tie was in his hand and 
his stomach was full of butterflies. He shook his head and mentally told himself to 
settle down, but knew this time it was anticipation.

It was quiet when he entered and there was no sign of Viggo so Sean left his keys on
the coffee table and wandered through to his room. He stopped in the doorway ... 
Viggo was sitting cross-legged on the bed drawing in his sketch book. Sean took the 
moment to just look at the man dressed in the same pair of old track pants he'd 
given him on that first night and a crumpled t-shirt. A grin spread across Sean's 
face at the sight of Viggo barefoot and with definite 'bed hair'.

The butterflies increased their dance when Viggo looked up at him and smiled.