Sean frowned and tried to force his clothes to fit the drawer, but still they bulged
out and stopped it from closing. He pulled at the handle in frustration and hauled 
out a fawn cable knit jumper, shit, I don’t even remember buying this. He threw it 
on the bed and sifted through the drawer until he found another couple of items to 
remove. With a small pile of clothes on the bed he was finally able to close three 
of the four drawers.

He looked at the empty bottom drawer and smiled … perfect.

Sean lifted the white paper shopping bag that held Viggo’s few belongings. Not meant
for such long term use it was torn at one of the corners and the glue on the seam 
was starting to give way. Sean carefully placed it next to the dresser beside the 
empty drawer. 


~*~

Viggo had retreated to his chair fairly early. He’d already rearranged the entire 
Science Fiction section washing down the shelves as he went, but had hit a point 
where he simply lost what he was doing. Viggo stood and looked at the tidy shelves 
feeling agitated, but not sure what to do next. When a customer reached past him, 
Viggo shrank back and headed for the safety of the battered leather chair.

It didn’t surprise Orlando to see Viggo with his feet tucked beneath him buried in a
novel. He picked up the biscuit tin and wandered into the second hand book section.

“You got Sci Fi done quickly,” Orlando said as he flopped down in the chair next to 
him and pried off the lid of the tin. Viggo simply nodded without looking up from 
the book.

“Biscuit?” Orlando asked, grabbed one out for himself and waited. When Viggo didn’t 
acknowledge the offer Orlando sighed and said quietly, “So when do you get the 
results?”

“Tomorrow,” Viggo answered trying to ignore the sick roll of his stomach. He closed 
the book and put it on the floor slightly under his chair, “I have to call after
eleven.”

Orlando put his hand gently on Viggo’s arm and lied, “I’m sure it’ll be okay Vig.”

Viggo’s breathing faltered slightly and he looked away holding on tight to the 
denial he wanted to voice. It was hard for Orlando to watch. He knew Viggo was 
worried, but for the first time he understood just how genuinely frightened Viggo 
was. His hand slipped down Viggo’s arm and folded around fingers drawn into a fist. 
The squeeze of his fingers was returned and Viggo gave him a little smile. Orlando 
smiled back, but had to ask, “Have you talked to Sean about it?”

Viggo looked down at their clasped hands and shook his head.

“You can’t go through this on your own Vig, you know … if things aren’t okay. Even
though I think they will be.” 

“I’ll know soon and Sean’s worried enough,” Viggo said in a firm monotone. He 
hesitated then added as he looked down the shop to the front counter, “You’ll help 
Sean won’t you Orlando?”

You’ll help Sean won’t you … Orlando was about to answer that of course he would, 
until it hit him what Viggo was actually asking. “Don’t you even think about it 
Viggo, don’t you fucking dare!” Orlando growled in an angry, but hushed voice.

When Viggo didn’t answer Orlando pushed the point, “He loves you Viggo and don’t 
think you’ll be doing him any favours by not including him. Sean needs to go through
this with you … don’t shut him out.” Orlando stood up and kissed Viggo lightly on 
the temple before saying, “Don’t shut either of us out, okay?”

As Orlando walked to the front of the shop his hand swiped across his eyes to rub 
away an imaginary irritation. Sean looked up at him and frowned unsure if he should 
ask what was wrong, but Orlando shook his head and said quietly, “Leave him for a 
while Sean.”

~*~

The brown paper bag tossed on the counter in front of him startled Sean until he 
realised it was just Orlando back with the lunches. He pulled out his sandwich and 
watched Orlando’s daily ritual of heading to the back of the shop to split his lunch
with Viggo. The suggestion had been made to buy Viggo his own, but both men had 
looked at him as if he’d said something particularly daft.

“Lunch Vig,” Orlando grinned and sat in the spare leather chair. Viggo had his
sketchbook out but was writing rather than drawing. He looked up at Orlando and said,
“I might skip it today. I was thinking I could take a walk to the library instead.”

“What have you been planning?” Orlando asked trying to read the scrawled list 
written on the corner of a page full of words.

“I’m not sure,” Viggo shrugged and made a point of closing the book, “but I’ve been
doing some thinking since yesterday and Barbara said something I want to check out.”

Orlando’s curiosity was definitely piqued, but he knew from experience that he’d 
have to wait until Viggo was ready to volunteer his plans. He shot Viggo a cheeky 
look and said, “Okay, keep your secret … but take some lunch with you, yeah?” Before
Viggo had a chance to answer, Orlando put both sandwiches back in the bag and 
securely twisted the corners. Viggo took the bag and smiled his thanks.

With his sandwich safely in his jacket pocket, Viggo walked the streets he had 
walked so many times before. But it was different this time; he had food, money, a
place to live and most important of all, the suggestion of a purpose. He hadn’t 
thought it all through … this was just a beginning and it was a big enough step to 
allow himself ‘a beginning’.

Although it was still cold, the sun shone and warmed Viggo’s back as he approached 
the City Library. He was glad they’d resisted changing its name to ‘Community 
Resource Centre’ like so many others; there was something solid and permanent about 
the word Library. He smiled at the grey columns and decided not to go in quite yet.

Viggo pulled the brown paper bag out of his pocket and sat on the concrete base of 
one of the statues at the bottom of the stairs. He looked up at the discoloured 
bronze military man on his horse. The front hoof was raised in a noble and defiant 
gesture. Viggo chewed thoughtfully on one of the triangles and splayed his fingers 
under the hoof feeling the realistic indentations in the sole. His fingertips barely
reached the edges of the hoof … larger than life, he mused and again glanced up at
the hero on horseback. He pulled the other half of the sandwich out and smiled, 
Orlando’s half.

With the last of the sandwich finished, Viggo carefully folded the paper bag and put
it back in his pocket. He absently patted the horse’s fetlock and walked up the 
steps into the library entrance. 

Like all large libraries it provided plenty of reading space ranging from lounge 
chairs to student carrels. It brought back memories. At the start Viggo had tried 
to find refuge here… it was quiet and he’d needed the ‘stillness’. He’d managed for
a while, hiding away in the tall shelves or among the elderly who escaped the 
loneliness of their own four walls. But as Viggo got dirtier and more desperate it 
was made clear that he wasn’t welcome. It seemed that even a daytime haven for 
scholars and the lonely had limits.

The reference librarian smiled at him as he approached and waited patiently while he
collected his thoughts. “I’m not sure if you can help me,” he said quietly and 
looked at the neatly cut squares of paper piled on the desk ready for hurriedly 
written Dewey numbers. 

Viggo could feel the thump of his heart as he pushed himself to speak, “The homeless
shelter … um, I’m trying to find some old books to give to the shelter.” The woman 
looked at him for a moment while she considered his request. “Okay,” Viggo glanced 
up briefly when she answered, “Just give me a minute and I’ll ring through to the 
office, they might be able to help you.” He took a breath, gave a barely visible nod
and waited.

After several minutes standing at the front desk, Viggo hugged his jacket a little
tighter around himself and decided to give up. He was only a couple of steps away 
when a woman’s voice called him back, “I’m sorry to keep you waiting Sir, how can I
help you?”

Viggo acknowledged her with a nervous smile and quietly told her his idea. She 
listened carefully to his request and nodded thoughtfully when he finished, “You 
know, this might be a solution to a problem I’ve had for a while. Come with me.” 
Without waiting for an answer she turned and started a brisk walk through to the 
workroom. A little taken aback by her sudden departure, Viggo needed to jog a couple
of steps to catch up with her. The workroom was filled with the typical clutter of 
the over worked and under staffed; books sat in piles and on shelves in various 
stages of processing while library staff ploughed on with only a curious look as he
passed. He was taken to a tiny adjoining room with a very unofficial printout taped
to the door stating: Purgatory.

“Shelf weeding is a constant process and these books are to be pulped,” she waved 
her hand in the direction of the shelves partially obscured by large boxes sealed 
with masking tape. “I hate the thought of books being destroyed so if you can put 
them to some use you are more than welcome to them.”

He moved slowly into the little room and the smell of new print similar to the shop 
gave way to one he was more familiar with; the once carefully chosen and read, now 
discarded to the second hand bookshelf. It was a combination of dust, old binding 
glue and worn paper. He looked around at box stacked on box and knew this was bigger
than his own little problems … he could do something with this.

When Viggo finally emerged he had two big bags of books and, more importantly, an
idea.

~*~

“You want the light off?” Sean asked gently as he climbed into his side of the bed.
Viggo had gone to bed an hour earlier, but was still awake facing the far wall. He 
rolled onto his back, smiled at Sean and nodded. Sean flicked off the lamp and 
settled beside him … both men were silent while Sean struggled with how to ask what 
he needed to. Eventually he propped himself up on one elbow and lay his hand on 
Viggo’s chest, “We haven’t talked much Vig … about tomorrow I mean.”

Viggo peered at him through the dim light of the room and said quietly, “Never been
much good at that.”

Sean laughed a little sadly at the irony of the comment, “We’re a right pair aren’t
we? I’m bloody useless at saying what I feel… always have been.”

“You said a lot the other day,” Viggo whispered.

Sean’s fingertip traced Viggo jaw-line and he grinned, “I did, didn’t I?” He bent 
down, kissed the path of his fingers and murmured, “I meant it.” Sean settled back 
and gently nuzzled Viggo’s neck before whispering, “Sometimes I can’t believe how 
lucky I am that I found you … that you let me be part of your life.”

The words had barely left his lips when Sean felt Viggo tense. He closed his eyes 
knowing it was time and asked the question, “You think you’re positive, don’t you?”

Sean’s chest tightened and ached when he heard the quiet, “Yes.”

Unsure if he wanted to know the answer Sean watched his thumb slowly smooth over 
Viggo’s chest hair and asked, “Can you tell me why?”

Viggo fought to control his breathing and suddenly needed to stop Sean touching him.
He slid out of Sean’s reach and sat on the edge of the bed. His jaw clenched and 
unclenched not wanting to speak the truth as he saw it … I have to let him be part 
of this … but Sean needs to know. His voice was surprisingly devoid of emotion when 
he stated the simple fact, “You were right the other day Sean … I am a whore.” 

The words hit Sean with the force of a fist. He stayed on his side of the bed and
stared at the back of the man he loved; devastated by his own words and worse, that
Viggo believed them to be true. After one false start at speaking, Sean got up and
crawled across the bed to kneel behind Viggo. He tentatively rubbed his hand on 
Viggo’s back and murmured, “You did that to survive and see your son … that’s not 
you, it doesn’t define you as a person Viggo.”

“I could have put you in danger Sean,” Viggo said, his misery now obvious.

Sean kissed him gently on the back of the neck and moved his hands around to slowly 
stroke his chest. He settled against Viggo’s back and said, “I’m okay Vig … we’re 
always safe.”

Viggo nodded and leaned back a little … he knew Orlando was right; they needed to 
talk. His first words were hesitant, “A man … a client, refused to use a condom. I 
told him no, but he said he’d already paid and said it wasn’t my choice anymore.” 
Viggo stopped. Sean thought he was finished and was surprised when Viggo cleared his
throat quietly and continued, “While he fucked me, he laughed that he never used 
rubbers and was probably ‘infected’ … said he wanted to spread the love … his idea 
of a joke I guess.”

Sean closed his eyes and asked, “Is that what you dream about?”

Viggo was determined to talk now that he’d started, but the words for this wouldn’t
come. He shook his head and remained silent. Sean felt the change and needed to be 
closer … to let him know he was safe. He moved away just enough to sit on the bed
behind Viggo then shuffled forward and pressed himself tight against Viggo’s back 
with legs either side of his hips. Sean held Viggo against him … enveloped him and 
asked, “Can you tell me?”

Sean’s skin touched him everywhere; his breath warm on Viggo’s neck. He let himself 
drift in Sean’s embrace. 

I can say it, it can’t hurt me here.

“The first time someone hurt me,” Viggo said softly then corrected himself, 
“…physically hurt me.” Sean pushed his fingers through Viggo’s hair, kissed his neck
lightly and whispered, “Tell me Vig.”

His voice sounded vaguely dislocated when Viggo sank back against Sean and started 
to speak, “I don’t really remember much about the first few weeks … I remember being
confused. I didn’t know where to go. I walked a lot. Was too afraid to sleep until I
was so exhausted I had to …” Viggo paused, eyes closed, and let Sean’s breath warm 
him enough to go on, “They woke me up with a kick … punched and kicked me over and 
over. Then I was against a wall … it scraped my face,” Viggo frowned, the hands on 
him now were soft not like then. Sean let out a shaky breath and brushed the back of
his fingers over Viggo’s cheek while said, “I didn’t understand Sean … I didn’t 
understand why they did that to me.” 

Sean could do little more than nod and give him a gentle kiss because he didn’t 
understand either.

“Someone helped me after … I was trying to pull my trousers on but the button was 
ripped off and they were bloody. I couldn’t get them on and I was so ashamed.” He 
stopped speaking and sat still in Sean’s arm only vaguely aware of the other man’s
tears then whispered, “Still so ashamed.”

Those quiet words shook Sean and he wiped his face roughly. His voice was low and a
little hoarse when he spat out, “No Viggo … Fucking Hell, no. Those bastards did 
that to you, you did nothing wrong … not a damn thing.” He shuffled back a little 
awkwardly on the bed until he could swing his leg around and then crawled to the 
edge to sit next to Viggo. He took Viggo’s hand, held it between his and said, “They
had no right to do that to you, none of them.” 

Sean sat for what seemed like a long time while he tried to get his emotions in
check. He knew it had been a huge step for Viggo to admit to that and he needed to 
respond with a clear head. Even in the darkened room Sean could see the strained 
twitch of Viggo’s leg muscles slowly subside and his shoulders slumped forward. Sean
leaned over and kissed Viggo lightly on the back of his shoulder and said, “I can’t 
fix any of that for you, but I need you to understand that no matter what happens 
tomorrow, let me be with you.”

Viggo watched Sean’s thumb gently caress the back of his hand and nodded slowly. 
Sean’s eyes held a weary determination when Viggo met them; he nodded again and gave
a shaky smile followed by a shrug, “Wanna hear what I’ve got planned for those 
books?”

Sean laughed and wiped his eyes again, “Yeah … I wanna hear.”