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"I'm sticky," Sean said with a small frown.
Viggo reached out and fumbled around in the chaos surrounding his bed for a moment before his hand reappeared, holding a small packet. "Wet wipe?" he asked with an amicable smile.
Sean snorted. "Are you kidding me? You don't have two matching socks but you keep wet wipes in your nightstand? Your non-existing nightstand? In this little chest- thing- from, what was it, Iceland?"
"Greenland. And priorities, Sean, priorities. With age comes experience, as they say. But you are welcome to decline my offer, drag your ass into the cold bathroom and wait for the water to get hot if you're feeling adventurous," he said with a smirk, dangling a tissue from his fingers in front of Sean's eyes.
Sean threw back his head and laughed. "Go on, gimme one of those."
Viggo smiled a victorious smile. "They tend to come in handy, occasionally. And they insist on paying me for these movies I make, ridiculous amounts of money, what am I going to do with all of that if I'm not allowed to buy wet wipes?"
Sean grinned. "You can buy a hell of a lot wet wipes for the money you make."
Viggo laughed. "Well, but I use to give away part of it, you know."
"To whom?"
"To charity, Sean, seriously." Viggo shook his head. "Do you think I'm giving it to the yellow press for achievements in quality journalism this week?"
Sean sighed and pulled Viggo against his chest. "I don't know," he said quietly, his lips finding Viggo's temple. "Maybe it's for the best. They will scream for a while and then settle down again and things will be back to normal. And we're finally done making excuses."
"Yeah. I just- hate to be the center of attention. It's none of their business. It's my life. I just want to do my job."
"I know, love, I know. Let's just wait for the storm to blow over, hm?" Sean said, reaching out to pull the covers around them.
"Yeah. Remind me not to tell them about the wet wipes, though," Viggo said, dropping a kiss onto his nose.