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Viggo wasn't even trying to keep the scowl from his features as he entered the Police Quarters. Fuck. Three o'clock in a Thursday afternoon and he had to quit organising his picture exhibit because his imprudent and adventurous boyfriend thought himself above the US traffic laws. And had a reckless love for the top speed of his convertible. Damn the man, Viggo never gave him that sort of trouble when he was staying over at Sean's - mind you, he couldn't drive on the right hand just yet, but that was unimportant. Being grounded for driving too fast shouldn't happen after one turns fucking twenty-five.
Viggo's short stay at the PD didn't improve his mood any. It might be just him, but he suspected every single cop present was giving him strange looks, and damn, he had saved fucking Middle-Earth for three consecutive Christmas seasons, but hey, that didn't mean his boyfriend was necessarily a model and law-abiding citizen. He had tried to take the ring from Frodo, after all.
Nobody asked for an autograph, though, and Vig increasingly believed that they were all staring at his arse, even though more than half of them didn't even seem gay. Oh well, fuck that. Must be his annoyance. He shot a few murderous glances at Sean as he signed all the necessary papers, and it wasn't until they were both sitting inside Viggo's car - the British in the passenger seat, with his seatbelt buckled properly - that Viggo's anger had dispelled enough for him to notice that Beanie appeared downcast. He shrugged.
"You can stop being embarrassed now, we're already out."
Beanie nodded absently but kept looking down. Vig started to worry.
"Snap off of it, Bean. It was only the speed limit, nothing to embarrass your daughters at school tomorrow should the newspaper know about it."
Beanie still didn't answer, which gave Viggo pause and room for some actual aggravation. He was starting to think that he should have eaten before the entire ordeal, instead of being so engrossed in his photographs as to skip lunch and go with nacho left-overs. Being hungry shortened his temper, and Sean's uncommonly guilty expression wasn't helping matters, because Sean Bean did not look bad unless he'd done something extraordinarily reprehensible.
Viggo was seriously beginning to worry.
"Fuck, Sean, what is wrong?" He turned away from the road to look over at the British man next to him. "Are you alright? Did one of those fuckers in there do anything to you? They were all eyeing me strange, the sons of bitches." He was vaguely aware he wasn't being entirely reasonable, but when Beanie bit his lower lip, Viggo's fury declared it didn't give a toss about sense and whatever it said against the odds of him single-handedly destroying the entire pack of officers. "I swear, if they--"
"Vig." Beanie stated quietly.
Viggo didn't answer, momentarily quieted by the awkwardness in his lover's voice. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the other man look through the window, outside the car, and to his own lap as Vig finally deigned it better to pull over and turn the engine off to stare at him, pointedly in want of an explanation.
"It, hmm, wasn't just the speed ticket."
"Well, what then?" Viggo was well past patience right now.
"The officer, he wanted to see my driving license. Ended up looking through my wallet."
"So what?"
Sean fidgeted, uncomfortable, and it would have been almost cute and amusing to see big badass Sean Bean fidgeting if Viggo didn't know there must be something serious behind it.
"Well, remember you were learning that Photosomething stuff at the computer, how to mess with pictures and all that?"
"Yes."
Viggo's annoyance had given way to curiosity now, and he glanced at Beanie. Sean seemed reassured enough to smile a little.
"Well, you're really talented. I always love your work, and some of those pictures you got of you and me, I, hm, thought I should keep them. I mean, one never knows when one'll need wanking material, right?"
It was entirely beyond Viggo to be able to help start chuckling.
"Sean Bean, you are such an ass." He laughed through his next question, "So the officer's seen the pictures?"
"Yeah." Sean was blushing slightly.
"Because you were walking everywhere with manipulations of pictures featuring you, me and anal sex on your fucking wallet."
"Yup."
"Because one never knows when one will get turned on."
"Exactly." Sean gave him one of his best smiles, that fabulous one with delight and Sean Bean all over it.
Viggo reached over, placing his hand directly on Sean's crotch and squeezing it. The British's eyes went wide, then he chuckled.
"All those people eyeing my behind made it very wanting of the right sort of attention."
Vig's voice was low and teasing, and he massaged Sean's length with his thumb. Sean leaned over to nuzzle at the curve of his lover's neck.
"Made me very jelous, that's what they did. Pervying over my crazy Dane."
The crazy Dane in question smiled as he turned to the side, capturing the other man's lips with his own. The kiss was light and full of tease on both parts, Beanie reaching to disconnect his seatbelt. Viggo whispered against his stubble.
"So you liked my manips, huh." He grinned devilishly and Sean's heartbeat quickened; he knew by self-experience that when Viggo Mortensen plotted, he was in for something. He hissed as the hand that had been massaging his hardening member through his jeans started to unzip them. "They give you ideas?"
"Hell yea."
Sean's reply was uttered directly against Viggo's lips. He slipped his tongue in exploration of the other man's mouth. Viggo tasted of some unidentifiable fruit, and Sean's mind went numb enough that it was too busy protesting at the broken kiss to register the Dane's next words.
"What say you to some rehearsing, them?"
"Huh?"
Viggo grinned, and manoeuvred so that he was straddling Sean's waist next, leaving the driver's seat empty in favour of the Brit's lap.
"I've got a camera with remote control at home. We can get some pics that won't need Photoshop," he pushed a few strands of hair behind Sean's ear and grew serious, "as long as you promise not to carry them around."
Beanie smiled and turned to the side, bestowing soft little kisses on Viggo's fingertips.
"You've got yourself a deal, Mortensen."