Dinner
Title: Dinner
Author: yueni
Fandom: LotR
Pairing: VM/SB
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: If this is real, then pigs can fly.
Notes: Thanks to janeausten and lynneybean for the beta. Crossposted in yueni, rugbytackle and contrelamontre. Written for the flash forward challenge in contrelamontre.
Bronzed bodies twist together upon silk sheets of forest green. Harsh pants and deep growls split the air.
“Viggo.” The name is said in a moan.
A grunt.
“Now. Please…” Pleadingly, feverishly.
Viggo acts like he hadn’t heard. Beads of sweat form on his brow, his eyes are intently focused on him. Muscled arms bunch, hooking legs up, spreading them. His hips flex as he slides himself snugly home. Warm. No, not warm, hot. There is a strangled scream, then moaning. He thrusts faster and faster and faster, until everything explodes into nothing and all that is left is wave upon wave of pleasure. Tidal wave after tidal wave, streaming up to overwhelm.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Sean?”
Blink.
A hand waves in front of his face. “Sean?”
Blink. “Viggo?”
“You okay? You look… funny.”
Viggo’s face comes into focus, worried, concerned. Sean grunts. “Yeah.”
“We still up for dinner?”
“Yeah. My place. Seven. Be there.” And he tries not to think of the newly made bed with forest green sheets.
Author: yueni
Fandom: LotR
Pairing: VM/SB
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: If this is real, then pigs can fly.
Notes: Thanks to janeausten and lynneybean for the beta. Crossposted in yueni, rugbytackle and contrelamontre. Written for the flash forward challenge in contrelamontre.
Bronzed bodies twist together upon silk sheets of forest green. Harsh pants and deep growls split the air.
“Viggo.” The name is said in a moan.
A grunt.
“Now. Please…” Pleadingly, feverishly.
Viggo acts like he hadn’t heard. Beads of sweat form on his brow, his eyes are intently focused on him. Muscled arms bunch, hooking legs up, spreading them. His hips flex as he slides himself snugly home. Warm. No, not warm, hot. There is a strangled scream, then moaning. He thrusts faster and faster and faster, until everything explodes into nothing and all that is left is wave upon wave of pleasure. Tidal wave after tidal wave, streaming up to overwhelm.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Sean?”
Blink.
A hand waves in front of his face. “Sean?”
Blink. “Viggo?”
“You okay? You look… funny.”
Viggo’s face comes into focus, worried, concerned. Sean grunts. “Yeah.”
“We still up for dinner?”
“Yeah. My place. Seven. Be there.” And he tries not to think of the newly made bed with forest green sheets.