[FIC] RPF: signal fire [1/2]
Holy shit, uhm.
Okay. I don't usually write kink fic. I never, ever write self-indulgent, kinky, absolutely filthy fic with way too many words. Well, sometimes I do, but I don't ever... post them. This fic is partly written in response to the latest Upsetting Sean Bean News, partly written so I can exorcise these ideas and move on to write better things, and entirely posted because I trust the VigBean people on my f-list and I know you guys have seen (and written) weirder. Yeah. Uh.
It's friendslocked. I'm not crossposting it. It is so long it requires two posts. Please take note of the warnings and read the linked post first.
The title stolen from Snow Patrol. Lastly, I am not sorry for any of this.
signal fire
Characters/Pairing: Viggo Mortensen/Sean Bean, brief mentions of both the Game of Thrones cast and the Lord of the Rings cast
Rating: Very, very NC-17
Words: 16302
Summary: “Bean is a veteran actor, but it seems that his personal life looms larger than his career, and many fear that with his history, he’s incapable of portraying a strong, quiet Alpha like Eddard Stark.” Relationships between two Alphas are illegal, because the world believes they can’t have children. Sean and Viggo had an entirely unexpected surprise, prove them wrong, and change the world instead of themselves. This summary makes it sound far less self-indulgent than it actually is.
Warnings: Omegaverse and all kinks associated with it (mpreg, knotting, self-lubricating butts, etc - read the link please), impregnation kink, knotting, sex in front of a mirror, faux social issues, solving faux social issues, unabashed sappiness, OC.
Sean Bean’s performance as Lord Eddard Stark is solid and incredibly commendable. He carries off the air of command of a true Alpha worth his salt, and though he does bend his knee to his King the world never seems to forget that he’s an Alpha.
It might be redundant to mention Sean Bean’s acting as Ned Stark, but there is no moment when I do not believe that he’s truly an Alpha. Ned does not posture and strut-in fact, in one of his first scenes, he kneels to his King-but his confidence and carriage shows his position as an Alpha clearly enough. Bean carried it off. There are no doubts of that.
When the casting of Game of Thrones was announced, there were uproars amongst the fans when Sean Bean was chosen as Eddard Stark. Bean is a veteran actor, but it seems that his personal life looms larger than his career, and many fear that with his history, he’s incapable of portraying a strong, quiet Alpha like Eddard Stark. I’m glad to say that those people can eat their words, for he has proven them entirely wrong.
***
“Julian.”
A young boy-he couldn’t be more than six years old-looked up at the sound of his name. He stopped talking mid-word and smiled immediately when he recognised the voice, pulling away from his companion, reaching out.
“Papa!”
Sean picked up his son and pulled him into his arms, making a soft oof noise. He ruffled his son’s bright blond hair before he shifted the boy a little bit-until he could sit down. Julian had swung his arms around his papa’s neck, looking up with him with a pair of striking blue eyes.
“Are you finished for the day, papa?”
“Yeah, unless they decide ta call me again,” Sean answered, smiling.
“Good,” Julian said. “I’ll ask about it later, because I think you want to talk to Isaac. Right, papa?”
“Right.”
Isaac Hempstead-Wright blinked, looking up at the sound of his name. He had been talking to Julian for quite a while, but it was honestly always a shock whenever Julian said something so perceptive and intelligent. It usually made him feel just a little bit inadequate, even though he knew it was stupid.
“You’re really smart, Julian,” he said admiring. “But uh- what is it, Mi- Sean?” It was so odd to call Sean by his first name, especially when Isaac’s mother hand spent a lot of time in her youth watching Sharpe. It was still a little surreal that he was acting at this man’s son. They were technically colleagues, but that was totally too weird for him to think about.
“Director’s calling for you,” Sean said, and he nudged Isaac gently towards the set. “I think you haveta call yer mother too, because he ‘as some ideas fer the next episodes he want to run through the both of you.
“And of course Julian’s smart,” he continued as he grinned, green eyes glittering. “He takes after his father.”
Isaac wasn’t a stupid boy. He knew Sean wasn’t referring to himself.
***
Sean officially hated Malta’s heat. This was getting fucking ridiculous.
Odysseus’s wig stuck to his neck and the armour was so heavy that Sean imagined that they cut against his shoulders. The food here was so bad that he was literally throwing up every single day because of it, although Sean was starting to wonder if it was just because the food hated him. No one else seemed to be doing as badly.
At least the tasteless protein cubes they were supposed to eat for building up muscles were still working. Sean needed those; he popped them like candy nowadays, because despite throwing up (or because of it) he felt ravenously hungry. He supposed that it was due to all of the working out he had to do for the movie, especially now that Wolfgang had added a fight scene for Odysseus. A chance for him to show his prowess, they had said, because the producers were making noises about making a movie about The Odyssey if Troy did well domestically and internationally.
Sean was a rising star and they wanted to make use of him as much as possible. Of course, he had said yes-he would be stupid not to-even though it would cut down on his spare time even more. He promised Viggo that he would schedule at least two months free so that they could fly off to some remote place where no one knew them from Lord of the Rings. Two months where they didn’t have to hide.
Same-sex alpha-alpha relationships were illegal. They were literally the only illegal relationships left in the world right now, and the laws weren’t budging. Alphas were commodities, with genes that couldn’t be wasted in non-reproductive relationships; Alphas had the civic duty to their country and the damn species to breed. The Omegas might claim that society saw them as broodmares, but society saw everyone’s worth as being judged by their breeding potentials. Alphas were the stallions who would be led to the mares to breed no matter if they actually wanted to or not. Most didn’t complain.
Sean was an Alpha, and he had been taught since his youth what he was supposed to do. He had it hammered in so hard-and had watched his Alpha father and Omega mother all of his life-that he married Debra when they were both so young so that they would have more time to have children. Of course, that had fallen apart. He did eventually have children, though.
Viggo was an Alpha as well. They were two of the only three Alphas amongst the Rings cast (the third was Ian), with Elijah as their unbounded Omega whom they protected. Everyone else were Betas-Betas were, after all, the majority, even though there were still more Alphas in executive positions. People had started rumours that Sean was sleeping with Elijah then, or that he still was, simply because the world seemed to be unable to conceive of Alphas and Omegas having platonic relationships when they weren’t related by blood.
Sean never did sleep with Elijah. He did, however, sleep with Viggo. He was still sleeping with Viggo, being careful with their outward appearance so that there would be a scandal about it. The law against homosexual double-Alpha relationships might not be enforced, but legal discrimination wasn’t the only discrimination in existence. He sighed, rubbed at his head. Thinking about this always gave him a headache, and now the heat was making the stars dance in front of his eyes.
“Sean!” he lifted his head, squinting slightly. He could see Wolfgang calling, and he hefted himself to his feet, a hand on a table. The world spun. Sean shook his head, but the throbbing worsened even further. He took a step forward, and he felt his legs give out underneath him.
Then he was surrounded by darkness.
***
“Viggo-look, I know you’re busy right now, but I really need you to come over to Malta.”
“I’m filming, Orlando-”
“I know, but this is really bad. Beanie collapsed in the middle of the day. He says he’s fine but I’m worried-”
“Orli, slow down. You’re telling me that Sean fainted?”
“Yeah. He just stood up from his chair and then went down like a sack of bricks. He told met the doctor gave him a clean bill of health and told him to drink more water. Wolfgang has the go-ahead to keep filming Odysseus’s scenes, but Beanie still looks like shit.”
“…Give me a minute- yeah, I have a filming break coming up next week.”
“Great! Thanks, Vig. I’m really tired to talking to a brick wall.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think the doctor told Beanie something but he’s not sharing with the class. He’s just… spacing out a lot and being stupidly evasive when I ask. You’re the only one who can get anything out of me, I swear.”
“I’ll try, Orlando.”
“God, if you can’t do something, I don’t know who can.”
***
“Daddy!”
“Hey there, little soldier,” Viggo bent down and scooped his youngest child, his miracle child, into his arms, holding him tight and feeling soft, fat arms wrap around his neck. He turned his head, pressing a kiss against Julian’s temple. Then he looked up, reaching out with one hand to cup against Sean’s neck, pulling him in close.
“Close your eyes, Julian,” Sean murmured, and that was all the warning their boy had, because Viggo was already leaning in and kissing him hard, all teeth and tongue claiming him. Sean growled underneath his breath, his fingers tight against Viggo’s arm. There would be bruises tomorrow and Viggo was already thinking about wearing tank tops, showing the bruises that his husband had placed on him-the bruises he was willing to accept from this man and only this man; the bruises he would always be proud of, because it showed that he belonged to Sean.
“Ew,” Julian said, and Sean laughed against their lips. “You’re both gross.”
Viggo slowly pulled away, his fingers sliding through Sean’s hair. He leaned in again, kissing those tempting lips and brushing his fingers against one cheek. Sean’s wrinkles had deepened even further while he had been gone, and Viggo frowned. His fingers trailed over them, and his instincts screamed at him that his husband had changed without his permission, and that wasn’t something he allowed.
Sean tipped his head and kissed Viggo on the wrist. “I think,” he said, his voice cast into a low murmur, “we should go inside.”
They were getting stares. Discreet ones, of course, because Viggo had made sure to tuck himself behind something before he caught Julian, but Julian’s announcement of his presence already made a few look. They were both Alphas, they were married, they had a child, and they made enough noise about it to change things-there was no reason why they wouldn’t look.
“Let’s,” Viggo said, and he pulled back from Sean to focus on Julian. He kissed the boy on the forehead again, and Julian made a small face. “Then my little soldier can tell me when he has learned by hanging around the set.”
“Lots,” Julian promised. Sean’s fingers curled around his own, and Viggo let himself be led.
***
“Tell me everything you know.”
Viggo was two minutes off the plane and already giving orders, his eyes narrowed and lips pursed like the King of Men. Orlando couldn’t help but smile, shoving his hands into his own pockets as he tried to keep up with Viggo.
“Everything I’ve told you haven’t changed,” he said, shrugging slightly. “It’s just getting weirder, or maybe it’s weird because I’m now noticing things, but-you know, Beanie’s stopped smoking? I don’t think it’s a new thing, but he hasn’t smoked in a while, and he’s begged off Brad-God, I need to introduce the two of you, and Eric!-when Brad asked him out for drinks. I don’t think he drinks at all nowadays, which is bloody strange.”
He chuckled, shaking his head, “It’s like he’s on some kind of mad health regime, really. If he is, it’s too damn late, because we’re almost done filming. Did I tell you that Wolfgang had the writers pen in a scene with Odysseus because he likes Sean so much?”
“No,” Viggo chuckled, “but I’m not surprised.” He stopped in his tracks, turning to look at Orlando, his eyes half-narrowed. Orlando had always fancied it to be the look that Viggo turned onto roadkill before he roasted it and ate it, and he tried to not back up a step. “Let’s go.”
“Yeah,” Orlando said, and he deliberately didn’t think about what it meant that Viggo was willing to drop everything for Sean; that he looked at Orlando and barely saw him, because his focus was entirely on a man still some distance away. Viggo was an Alpha and Sean was an Alpha and they were both men; it was just so much safer for him to think that it wasn’t possible.
“I’ll drive,” he said instead.
**
Viggo closed the flimsy, wooden trailer door behind him. Then he turned around, leaning against it. Sean was sitting on the small bed, his fingers intertwined and clenched so hard the knuckles were white. His shoulders were tense, lips drawn back unconsciously to bare his teeth even though his eyes were boring holes into the floor. If Viggo wasn’t an Alpha himself, he would’ve gotten out of the room immediately-Sean looked defensive and ready to attack anyone who so much as came near him.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” Viggo kept his voice low, barely above a murmur. He had never been the type of Alpha that postured and threw his weight around-he left those antics to people who couldn’t assert their authority with just a look-but he pushed, nonetheless, walking over to the bed and falling to his knees. He took Sean’s hands into his own and started rubbing at the knuckles.
“Didn’t think I’d see you ‘ere,” Sean mumbled, still not lifting his eyes.
Viggo rubbed harder, stroking his thumb down to follow the thin bones and tendons of Sean’s wrist. “Orlando called me. He told me that you collapsed and you are ill, so don’t try to tell me you’re fine.” He looked up, smiling slightly as he brushed his knuckles against Sean’s cheek. If Sean was an Omega, Viggo would’ve kissed him already, holding him close and burying his hands into Sean’s hair-but he wasn’t, so he didn’t.
“Besides, I think I’m overdue for a visit anyway.”
Sean bit his lip, “I- I think I ‘ave somethin’ I haveta tell you.”
“Yeah?” Viggo leaned back, still holding onto Sean’s hands, to sit on his haunches. “I’m listening.”
Sean took a deep breath, seeming to gather up his courage. His eyes flickered left, then right, fixating on the door for a long moment. Viggo got the message and he shifted a little to the side, so that Sean had an unimpeded view-and path-to the exit, and he wondered what on Earth did Sean feel he had to protect from him.
“I’m pregnant.”
Viggo blinked, “What?”
“Pregnant,” Sean said again, rubbing at his nose. He licked his lips, not meeting Viggo’s eyes. “Knocked up, bun in the oven, in the Omega way,” he rubbed at his eyes, and snuck a peek at Viggo, who had gone as still as a statue. “It’s yours, Vig.”
There was a huge roar in his ears and Viggo was moving before he even knew it. He had reached out and slammed a hand against Sean’s chest, pushing him onto the bed as he climbed over him, pressing their lips together. Sean’s fingers curled around his shoulders, but Viggo pulled at them, grabbing both wrists and pinning them above Sean’s head as he pried him lips open, claiming his mouth and breathing in his scent. He heard Sean moan beneath him, and his instincts screamed-his hands were pulling off Sean’s shirt already, fingers dancing from his collarbones to his chest, flicking at his nipples (these will be used to feed my child, he thought giddily), and splaying out his hand against his stomach. Sean’s skin was warm underneath his hand, and it might just be his imagination but it seemed warmer than usual. He could feel the baby underneath Sean’s skin.
A child. His baby. His baby with Sean.
“Mine,” he said, and he couldn’t even recognise his own voice. It was a low, rumbling growl, and Viggo turned his eyes up, fixing on Sean. “Mine.”
“Aye,” Sean said softly, and the fear that was knotting his muscles seemed to have faded. He reached out and cupped his hand around Viggo’s neck, pulling him in for a long kiss. He arched up underneath him. “Yours, Vig. Just like you’re mine.”
There was something he had to ask here-Viggo’s mind was trying to bat away the Alpha instincts that crowded into his head. He had always prided himself for being able to control those urges and to not behave like a caveman, damnit-
“How?” the question slipped out before he was even aware of the word sitting on his tongue. “I- you’re a male Alpha.”
“Don’t know,” Sean said, turning away. “Everyone knows that it ain’t supposed to happen, but I still ‘ave the equipment, and so do you.” He poked Viggo on the chest, licking his lips a little. “Apparently something ‘appened ta turn it on.”
Viggo narrowed his eyes, searching his memories, “… It was when I visited you during that Nicolas Cage movie, wasn’t it?” He reached out, cupping Sean’s face with a hand and turning him to look at Viggo. “You were begging me to knot you.” His hand smoothed down, flattening out against Sean’s stomach again. “That was four months ago.”
Sean nodded, “Yeah, that’s me ‘eat alrigh’. Doc said that me ma bein’ an Omega might also ‘ave somethin’ ta do about it.”
“Is that why you’re sick?”
“Mornin’ sickness,” Sean explained, and his grin was ironic and dim, but it was there. “I’ve been ‘aving it for the past three months and it doesn’t seem ta be endin’.”
Viggo looked at him for a long moment then down to his hand-which was spread out against Sean’s flat stomach. He looked up, silently questioning with a small tilt of the head. Sean shrugged.
“I’ve been workin’ out a lot. Muscles are stronger, so they ain’t givin’ in much. Baby’s pretty small too.”
He moved to sit up, and Viggo moved back immediately. They looked at each other for a moment before Viggo moved to the head of the bed, back against the headboard with his arms open and legs spread. Sean followed him, leaning against him, his spine perfectly aligned against Viggo’s chest. Viggo’s hands moved, stroking against Sean’s abdomen, feeling the strong muscles underneath the smooth, hairless skin. His lips grazed against Sean’s neck.
There were so many issues to be dealt with. There was the damn law. Most of Europe had quitted trying to criminalise non-abusive relationships, but double-Alpha relationships were still incredibly rare and looked down upon. Britain and America still criminalised homosexual Alpha relationships and it was only fifteen or so years ago that heterosexual Alpha relationships were made legal in the latter. Viggo even had to be born in Argentina because his parents’ relationship wasn’t legal in America.
Sean’s career would definitely suffer if the news got out that he was pregnant. Pregnancy, according to society, wasn’t made for Alphas.
Society loved its little boxes and labels, and what Sean managed to do-what both of them managed to do-defeated so many expectations that they would both certainly be looked at differently when news got out of this. They might even be in danger. Viggo’s hand was clenching at his side, fisting against the sheets, and he swore that he would do anything he could to keep Sean safe. He knew exactly how strong of an Alpha he was, and even though he rarely used that power when off-camera, he wouldn’t keep it back now. He had to protect Sean and their child, and he would give anything to do so.
For the first time in his life, Viggo’s instincts and his mind were perfectly in line with each other. His instincts screamed and railed at him to protect both his baby and his- Viggo realised with a jolt that he had been treating Sean like he would treat an Omega, and Sean was letting him. Sean, who fought him every time that they fell into bed with each other until they were both covered in scratches and bite marks and bruises.
“Don’t get used to this,” Sean said, his voice thick. Even when he was falling asleep, he could still read Viggo’s mind. “I ain’t goin’ ta lettin’ you make all me decisions or ‘ave me quit actin’ to stay ‘ome ta be yer little pet Omega or somethin’. I’m just tired right now.”
Viggo stroked a hand through Sean’s hair, “If I wanted an Omega, I wouldn’t have fallen for you. I’m just thinking.”
“Think softer,” Sean ordered, shifting on the bed until his entire weight was pressing onto Viggo, using him as a pillow. His eyes were a brilliant green. “I know we’ve got lots ta talk ‘bout and even more ta do and I’ll help you with the thinkin’, but I haven’t seen you in a bit.” He left I missed you unspoken, but Viggo could hear it anyway.
“We’ll talk later,” Viggo agreed, pressing a kiss against Sean’s hair.
“Hey, Vig?”
“Mm?”
“You’re really happy ‘bout the baby, yeah?” The tone of the question was far too casual for it to actually be casual. Viggo’s hand stilled for a moment before he nipped against Sean’s neck.
“You’re going to have our child, Sean. I don’t think ‘happy’ covers all of it.”
“Good,” Sean said, his accent thickening so much that if Viggo was anyone else, he wouldn’t be able to understand him. “Didn’t think you would be.”
Viggo jerked, blinking hard-but Sean had fallen asleep, and he was left with a mind that was far too awake, trying to figure out what Sean meant. Was this why he was suddenly so docile?
For the rest of the night, Viggo couldn’t sleep.
***
It took a rare Alpha to be able to pull off long hair. All Omegas could-in fact, long hair was the required length for Omegas for most of history-and most Betas were capable of it because many of their features could still be considered ‘delicate’. But Alphas generally looked terrible with long hair. Even female Alphas sheared their hair short because they didn’t look good with it, much less male Alphas, whose features were even stronger.
Viggo laughed, burying his fingers in Sean’s long strands of gold as he was slammed against the door, the breath knocked out of him. His lips parted as he panted against Sean’s lips, all urgency as he rocked his hips upwards, feeling the other Alpha’s cock against his own.
Sean’s hand snuck down past Viggo’s waistband and curled his fingers around the slowly-growing knot. Viggo gasped, thrusting his hips upwards, trying to fuck into that hand, but Sean had his other hand around his shoulder, pressing him into the wall.
“I want,” Sean’s voice was low and rough, his stubble scraping against Viggo’s ear. “I want you inside me, Vig. I want you ta fuck me hard, slamming all the way inside. I want you ta knot me and fill me with your come. Then I want you ta do it all over again.” Fingers against Viggo’s lips-Viggo darted his mouth out and licked against the tips, helplessly aroused by the words.
“Come on now, King of the West. What are you waiting for?”
Viggo moved. He grabbed Sean by his arms and shoved him backwards, practically throwing him onto the big, luxurious bed of Sean’s hotel suite. Sean dropped back, his eyes glittering in the lowered lights, teasing as he spread his legs and Viggo couldn’t resist the invitation. He leaned over Sean’s, kissing him hard, his fingers moving down Sean’s hips, curving around his cock and back down to his entrance-
“Jesus,” he broke off the kiss to gasp, shaking hard. His fingers pulled out of Sean, coming back wet and glistening. Viggo closed his eyes, biting down his lip as he imagined Sean kneeling on his bed, head thrown back as he stretched himself open, preparing himself for Viggo’s cock, Viggo’s knot. If he thought about it more he was going to explode without a single thrust.
Sean had no Omega pheromones, but Viggo didn’t need any of them. He was hard just looking at him, taking in the smooth, golden skin, the strong jaw and the broad shoulders. Sean was an Alpha through and through-the heavy knot at the base of his cock proved it-and he looked utterly glorious lying there with his legs spread and hole wet, inviting Viggo to fuck him.
And Viggo was already lining himself up. He felt Sean’s hand on his neck and leaned down, their mouths crashing together in a battle of teeth and tongue and lips. His lip split and he could taste his own blood, but Sean was already licking against the wound, his hips rocking upwards, urging-and Viggo pushed inside him, groaning loudly at the feel of the hot, tight vice clamping around his cock. Sean’s legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him in even more, seating him deep inside, and Viggo fell over him, gasping.
He drew back and thrust in, breathing in Sean’s sharp, pleasured cry and letting it sink into his lungs. “You’re so damn gorgeous,” his words were in his mouth as he did it again, leaning down to kiss Sean, to swallow down those sounds until he was filled with them like how he was filling Sean up. “So goddamn beautiful, Sean,” he breathed the words against Sean’s neck, taking in his scent. Sean smelled sweet, incredibly sweet, and Viggo felt like he was drowning in him.
“Vig,” Sean gasped his name, arching against him, his cock sliding against Viggo’s stomach, sending sparks up and down his spine. “Harder, harder,” his nails sank into Viggo’s shoulders. There would be bruises there tomorrow. “Harder-get your knot in me, Vig. Do it, do it.”
There was something Viggo was missing here. Sean had never wanted it this badly and had never begged for him like this. But he was begging now and there was no way Viggo wouldn’t give it to him. He dragged in a sharp breath, leaning against one elbow above Sean as he pulled out almost completely, leaving only the tip of his cock inside, before he slammed in. Sean threw his head back, biting down hard his own palm to stifle his scream. Viggo smiled, reaching out to pull that hand away, muffling Sean’s sounds with his own mouth as he did it again, and again, and again.
Sean was still too tight for his knot, but he had asked, and like hell was Viggo going to refuse him. He hissed, reaching out with two fingers- and with his next thrust in, he shoved his fingers as well, stretching Sean even further open. Sean was incoherent by now, writhing against him, his lips forming litanies of Viggo’s name, over and over and over again, so relaxed and loose that he let Viggo’s fingers in easily. Viggo hissed out a breath of Sean’s name before he pulled his hand away and breached Sean’s body with his knot, falling forward, leaning their foreheads together. His hand curled around Sean’s cock, stroking him hard as he felt him come-felt him clench down around him.
“Mine,” Viggo was growling and coming as well, pressing inside as much as he could, following his Alpha’s instincts to plant the seed as deep inside as possible even though he knew it would fall on barren soil. “Mine,” he whispered again. Sean’s lips parted underneath his own, and his mouth tasted so sweet that he couldn’t help but lick every single corner, to taste him in every way he could. He could feel Sean’s legs still around his hips, keeping him inside even as Viggo had softened.
Sean rolled his hips gently, opening his eyes. Viggo leaned against the hand against his cheek, nipping against the fingers.
“What was that about?” he asked, his voice half-muffled.
“Wanted you,” Sean said, his smile small and sweet. His eyelids were heavy, and his eyes were a deep green. “Just wanted you.”
Viggo kissed him again, pulling out slowly and relishing in Sean’s quiet hiss at the move. “You have me,” he said.
“You’ll always have me.”
***
Sean woke up warm.
It wasn’t the kind of heat that came from sweat sticking to his skin because the weather in Malta was too hot for an Englishman to deal with. No, it was the warmth of someone else in his bed who had wrapped him up completely-and Sean almost shoved him away when he remembered last night, forcing himself to relax. He didn’t like being held like this, but he could tolerate it. He would have to tolerate it.
Viggo had taken the news remarkably well last night, but Sean suspected this meant that he would blow up even more this morning. He wondered if Viggo would accuse him of lying, because who had ever heard of a male Alpha who was capable of carrying a baby? Male Alphas were sires by default, and Sean knew that there were theories that male Alphas were the least evolved, because every other sex and hierarchy was capable of siring and bearing children both. Even the female Alphas could carry kids, even though they were said to have a lot of trouble with it. Sean didn’t know if that was entirely true: Abigail was a female Alpha, and Evie was an accident.
He tried his best to not move too much and breathe shallowly, casting his senses outwards. Sean hadn’t noticed it until now, but it seemed that he had been wrapped in a very thin glass lately. All of his senses seem muted, half-silenced, and he wondered if it was out of sheer self-preservation. If he had to smell what he threw up most mornings, he would never actually stop throwing up.
The doctor that Wolfgang called in wasn’t a tokologist or a paterologist-he was a general practitioner, hired for his sheer discretion because illnesses on sets tend to spoil the reputation of the upcoming movie. It was a good thing that the man chased out Wolfgang when he finally figured out Sean’s symptoms, but that barely made up for the sheer humiliation of sitting at the clinic in a paper gown and having a doctor babble at him excitedly about how much he and his baby was going to improve scientific knowledge. Sean had refused immediately, storming out, and he knew it was just patient-doctor confidentiality that stopped the bastard from leaking out information.
He wasn’t going to be a lab rat to be tested on. His son wouldn’t be either, and Sean would make sure of that. He didn’t know how it worked, honestly, that he could still have the protective Alpha instincts that had followed him his whole life even though he was doing something that Alphas didn’t usually do. He didn’t even have any of those Omega instincts-if Viggo tried to protect him now, he would punch him more than he would thank him.
It was too damn complicated.
“Now who is thinking loudly?”
Viggo’s voice made him start, jerking slightly in the other man’s arms. He felt a hand stroking through his hair before Viggo was pulling away from him, keeping a distance between them. Sean turned to face him, and found a pair of blue eyes that were far too bright for Viggo to have just woken up.
“Did you sleep at all?” Sean asked suspiciously.
“No,” Viggo admitted, shrugging slightly. “My body is still running on another clock, so I’m not tired. Yet.” He looked at Sean, “You want to tell me what you’re thinking about?”
Sean looked away, “It ain’t important”
“Okay then,” Viggo shrugged. “Then I’ll start. Why were you acting like some kind of needy Omega just now?”
Jerking back, Sean stared at him. “What?”
Viggo gave him a look, and he sighed quietly. “I’m not stupid, Sean,” he murmured. “You let me shove him onto the bed without fighting back, you wanted me to hold you even though I know you think it’s suffocating, and you actually told me that you’re mine. That’s not normal for you.”
“Well,” Sean said, irritated at being suddenly on the defensive. “This bloody situation ain’t normal fer me either.”
“No it isn’t,” Viggo admitted easily. “The whole situation is weird. We’ve been told our whole lives that loving someone of our own hierarchy is wrong, especially as an Alpha, because we can’t breed. You’re proving them wrong in the most obvious way possible.” He reached out, cupping Sean by the cheek and stroking against his cheekbone. “And don’t tell me it’s hormones, because Exene never really did acting differently from herself when she was pregnant with Henry. And she’s an Alpha, so I know what I’m talking about.”
Sean bit his lip, licked against it. He pushed Viggo’s hand away and clenched his own in his hands.
“It’s fuckin’ weird, alrigh’? It’s fuckin’ weird. I’ve sired three girls and two of them are Alphas and I’m pretty sure Evie will be too, so that’s my damn breedin’ duty done. I didn’t think I would ever ‘ave another kid because now I ‘ave you and it’s fuckin’ impossible, yeah? It’s just…” he bit on his lip.
Viggo didn’t speak. He just waited.
“The fuckin’ doctor,” Sean said. “That damn fuckin’ doctor. He told me-told me that it’s probably me mom’s Omega gene that caused this ta ‘appen, and he told me he wants to do fuckin’ experiments. Nothing invasive, he said, except for a whole bunch of fuckers looking up my ass and watching me like a damn labrat.” Sean was starting to shake, and Viggo immediately moved over, folding Sean’s hands into his own. “He treats me like a fuckin’ freak and I know you never thought you could ‘ave kids wi’ me, so I ain’t blame you if you treat me like a freak too. I thought-maybe if I act like an Omega, you’ll find it better. Easier.”
“No,” Viggo said, and he squeezed Sean’s hands, looking at him hard in the eyes. “It’s you. I love you. I love you for being an Alpha; love the way that you fight me; love the way you order me around. I know that there’s nothing you’ll ever do just for the sake of pleasing me.” He pulled away, cupping Sean’s face with both hands and leaning their foreheads together. “I love you and this baby and you’re not a damn freak, and if I ever meet the doctor I will kill him with my bare hands for saying those things to you, because you don’t deserve it.”
Sean’s hand folded around the back of Viggo’s neck, and they were so close that Viggo breathed in his exhale. “You sure? There’s going ta be a fuckin’ circus once people find out. I might not be showin’ now, but I’m going ta eventually, and-”
“You’ll have me beside you,” he promised. “Every step of the way.”
“Once this gets into the news, my career’s finished. There’s no way anyone would want a male Alpha who got pregnant to play any of the roles.” Sean said, and he knew this as a fact. Hollywood hated anomalies-all of their actors had to be normal.
“Bullshit. You’re good, Sean, and you know that I don’t say that easily. If Hollywood doesn’t want you, then we’ll get out of Hollywood,” Viggo traced his finger over a cheekbone. “You loved Macbeth, loved theatre. I’ll follow you back to London, because if Hollywood doesn’t have you it’s not worth a damn.”
“I can’t do anything except act, Vig. I ain’t like you. What the hell can I do? And it’s still illegal-”
“Sean,” Viggo interrupted, pulling away so that he could look this man-his man-in the eyes. “I’ll find a way. We’ll both find a way. We’re Alphas, remember? We’re the ones who are supposed to rule the world. Changing it would be a damn breeze. If they’re going to prosecute us for being Alphas, then let’s show them what it really means to be an Alpha.”
Sean closed his eyes, laughing quietly, his body sagging against Viggo’s. “God,” he said. “What ‘apped to Mister Politically Correct Mortensen, eh?”
“This is something worth fighting for,” Viggo said simply. He tilted his head and pressed a soft kiss against Sean’s temple. “The world can either change, or it can go to hell.”
Taking Viggo’s hand, Sean pressed a soft, tremulous kiss against his knuckles. “What’s next? Rulin’ the world?”
“If that’s what it takes,” Viggo promised, and his eyes flared blue. “I’ll do anything it takes, Sean.”
***
Sean collapsed on a chair, dug into his pocket, and called the first speed dial. Viggo picked up after the second ring.
“Finished?”
“Yeah,” Sean said, heaving a long breath. He rubbed against his nose “Filming’s over. Fuckin’ fight scene is finally over after two weeks and I’m so goddamn tired it ain’t funny. Your kid’s eatin’ up all my damn energy, Vig.”
“Oh, so when he’s giving you trouble, he’s my son?” Viggo sounded amused.
“’Course, especially when he’s kicking me in the ribs-Christ,” Sean exhaled slowly, placing a hand against his still-flat stomach. The muscles were smoothing out, finally starting to give, and he was damn glad that he wasn’t Brad or Eric and had to go through the scene half-naked. He knew everyone would give him grief for getting fat, and he didn’t know if he could stop himself from snapping back that he had a damn good excuse because he was pregnant. “I don’t know where he has the room ta move so damn much, but he won’t fuckin’ stop kickin’ me. It’s like he’s training for footie or he just hates the fight scene as much as I do. I usually love the stuff, you know that, but it’s damn ‘ard ta convince them ta not hit me in the stomach without spillin’ everythin’.”
Viggo sighed, something amused in the sound. “Don’t tempt me to just drop Hidalgo and fly over again, Sean,” he warned. “Because right now, I really want to.”
“Finish yer damn filmin’,” Sean said, tipping his head up to stare at the ceiling, his phone crammed against his ear to catch Viggo’s every breath. “But fuckin’ ‘ell, Vig, I miss you. If you’re here you can ‘elp me fend off Orlando’s questions.”
“What has the elf done now?”
“Nah, he’s just worried.” Sean rubbed his face. “Christ, ow.”
“… Sean?” Viggo’s voice suddenly sharpened, worried. “What happened?”
“Kid’s got a foot in my liver,” Sean said, teeth gritted. He tried to soothe the baby, stroking against his belly, but the kid seemed to take it as encouragement to kick harder, driving all the breath from his lungs. “Oof.”
“Fuck this,” Viggo swore. “I don’t give a damn, Sean. I’m calling up my agent to send you a ticket down here. I’m not going to wait another two weeks to see you in Wellington.”
“I still don’t like flying, Vig,” Sean said wearily, draping himself completely on the armchair. “But yeah, that sounds good.” He cracked a smile at the phone. “At least I’ll ‘ave someone ta ‘old me ‘air back.”
Viggo hissed out a breath, and Sean could faintly hear him starting to pace. “Morning sickness still there?”
“Took up fuckin’ residence,” he replied. “When’s the ticket?”
“Tomorrow. Just get your ass to the nearest airport and I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Yeah. Yeah, alright.” There was a pause, and Sean continued quietly. “You tol’ Peter yet?”
“Not all of it,” Viggo said, and Sean could practically see him rubbing his eyes. “But you’re coming with me for Wellington, that’s for certain. Our publicists already scheduled an interview for January after Return of the King has finished its run.”
“And I’ll be so fuckin’ huge by then that no one will think it’s a lie or a publicity stunt or whatever the hell the tabloids always say,” Sean sighed. “After that?”
“After that, we’ll leave,” Viggo said quietly. “We have Ian and Stephen in England and my friends in America. They’ll deal with the politics and I’ll pop in here and there for a statement.”
Sean swore, “I hate fuckin’ politics.” He paused. “You know I cancelled on Bay’s The Island, right? It was supposed ta start when I’m big as a fuckin’ ‘ouse.”
“Yeah?”
“There’s some fundin’ snafu goin’ on and now they’ve delayed filmin’. The new dates ‘bout a month after I’m due,” he licked his lips.
“That script has a fight scene for you, right?” Viggo said thoughtfully. “I don’t have anything planned for next year at all, so I can come with you and take care of the baby while you work.” He tapped on his fingers. “Do you want to?”
Sean sat up, “You don’t mind?”
“No? Should I?” Viggo sounded genuinely surprised. “I’m just worried if you have enough time to recover.”
“I can probably convince ‘im ta schedule the ‘eavy stuff ta the back. Most of it is just standin’ or sittin’ ‘round talkin’; Ewan and that girl Scarlett’s got the heavy work o’ it.” Sean licked his lips again, thinking hard. “I’ll just tell ‘im first that he should look for a backup just in case, and when the news break I’ll see if he still wants me ta take the job.”
“He will,” Viggo said with a confidence that Sean desperately wanted to believe in. Then his voice gentled a bit. “Not quite a career suicide, is it?”
Sean snorted quietly, “I’ll believe that when it ‘appens.”
“Hey, there’s only room enough for one pessimist in this relationship and I already took the spot. Get out of my seat.”
“Wanker,” Sean said fondly, his eyes half-closing. “I should ‘ang up. The bill’s going to take half me pay already, and you ‘ave ta call for the ticket.”
“Mm,” Viggo said reluctantly. “Rest up, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” he smiled. The thought of being able to see Viggo tomorrow instead of just talking on the phone was making him smile like a fool, and the baby agreed with him with a gentle kick against his hand. “Pretty sure Julian misses you too, given ‘ow ‘e refuses ta calm down whenever we’re talkin’.”
“Julian?”
“Good name, ain’t it?”
Viggo laughed quietly. “You’re doing all of the work, Sean. You get to pick.”
“Think of a second name,” Sean said, and he hung up.
***
“Julian William Bean,” Viggo announced when he saw Sean at the airport. He reached down and grabbed Sean’s duffel, throwing it behind his back-it was a poor substitute for hugging him, but they weren’t taking any chances.
Sean stared at him before he rolled his eyes. “One, that would be Julian Mortensen, because yer the sire; two, I ain’t going ta let you name both of yer sons after William Blake.”
“You’re doing all the work, so Julian should take your name,” Viggo pointed out. “What about Julian Auden Bean?”
“I ain’t namin’ this kid after a poet. Any poet. Anyway, Henry’s not Henry Cervenka, is ‘e? Yer his sire, he had yer surname. It’ll be the same with this one,” Sean gave his lover a flat look over the hood of the car. “Don’t be fuckin’ stupid.”
“I just think that it’s unfair,” Viggo said, half-muffled with his head inside the trunk where he was dumping Sean’s things in. Sean got into the car and Viggo joined him a few seconds later, continuing. “What about Bean-Mortensen? Mortensen-Bean?”
Sean sighed, “I’d like the kid ta ‘ave a name he doesn’t need to take a year ta learn how to spell it. A simple name, Viggo.”
“Then I’ll name him after you,” Viggo suggested. “It’ll be simple enough. Sean Julian Bean-Mortensen. We can call him Julian at home.”
“Four things,” Sean held up his fingers. “One, Sean’s a fuckin’ common name. Two, he’s goin’ ta introduce ‘imself as ‘Please call me Julian because I ain’t me Pa’ all of ‘is life. Three, I ain’t got an ego that’s so big that I need our son ta be named after me. It’s fuckin’ tacky. Four, no fuckin’ hyphens.”
Viggo threw up his hands. Then he put them back on the steering wheel because he was actually driving. Sean threw him a dubious look.
“I give up,” Viggo said, sounding more amused than defeated. Then he changed his mind. “Look, we keep Julian as the first name… Julian Richard Bean-Mortensen? I insist on the hyphen.”
“… Yer namin’ ‘im after Sharpe,” Sean stared.
“I mean it about naming our son after you,” Viggo threw him a grin. “It won’t be egoistical because it’s a common enough name that only we will know he’s named after you. Plus, Lorna.”
Sean snorted. “I took on Carver because me girl’s named Lorna, not the other way around.” He slid his eyes over to Viggo, “Julian Richard Mortensen is a good name.”
Viggo laughed, “I have a few more months to convince you of the merits of Bean-Mortensen.”
“In yer dreams.”
***
Sean knew that this day would come eventually, but he still frowned as he sucked in his stomach even more and found that he couldn’t button his damn slacks no matter how hard he tried. He stood in front of the mirror, his hand on top of the gentle curve of his abdomen, and sighed when the baby kicked him. It was damn weird; he looked like he had the beginning of a beer belly.
At least he didn’t have any interviews for the Return of the King promotions.
“I blame you fer this,” he informed Viggo over his shoulder.
Viggo moved forward, wrapping his arms around Sean’s waist and pulling him close, nipping him lightly on the neck. “You’re showing,” he said, his voice full of wonder as he placed his hand against Sean’s stomach. Julian kicked him gently in greeting, and Viggo’s smile widened even further. “Christ, Sean, you’re so beautiful like this.”
Sean raised an eyebrow, meeting Viggo’s eyes through the mirror. “You mean fat?”
“No,” Viggo’s voice had deepened, and Sean knew exactly what that meant. He shivered slightly as Viggo continued, his hands moving from Sean’s arms down to his thighs. “You even smell fucking intoxicating, Sean. You’re mine,” he rocked his hips forward, his erection sliding against Sean’s barely-clothed ass. “My Sean. You’re so beautiful with your belly full of baby. With my baby.”
“Jesus,” Sean breathed out. He didn’t feel like an Alpha now; not with Viggo’s chest plastered against his back, Viggo’s hands on him, Viggo’s baby growing inside him. He dropped his head forward, hissing out a breath through his teeth. “Inside me,” he ordered, bracing his hands against the mirror. “Get inside me right now. Fuck me, Vig.”
Viggo got his slacks off so fast and his own belt came off so quickly that the air snapped around them. Sean arched backwards, his breathing speeding up, and he could feel Viggo’s fingers inside him. He was wet already-if his head wasn’t clouded with arousal, he would find it so weird, that he was wet like an Omega or a woman because he wasn’t either of them, but right now he didn’t care. It was goddamn convenient, and he moaned out loud as Viggo slid inside him, stretching him, filling him up until his knot was pressed up against his ass.
“God, Sean,” Viggo gasped, and he flung his arm around him, his hand splaying out against the small bump as he started to thrust slowly. “Sean. Sean, Jesus Christ. You know what I want?” His teeth grazed against Sean’s neck, nipping gently.
“W- what?” Sean’s fingers scrabbled against the cool, smooth surface of the mirror, looking for some purchase. He gasped, loud and sharp, when Viggo pulled him back until his whole weight leaned against the other man, impaling even further on Viggo’s cock. “Tell me, Vig. Tell me.”
“I want to fill you up again. Give you another baby right now, growing alongside this one, so that when you give birth you’ll still be pregnant. You’ll always be pregnant, you’ll always look like this, big with my children inside you,” Viggo’s voice was steady, but his thrusts sped up. Faster, harder, and Sean moaned helplessly. The truth of the scenario was horrific, but right now-there was nothing he wanted more. “You’ll be big all the time, with the skin of your stomach tight with baby. I’ll do it over and over, because you’re mine and everyone will be able to see it. I want to fuck you when you’re in public, bend you over with your belly hanging so everyone can see it, and I’ll fuck you and fill you up. Again, and again, and again.”
“Vig,” Sean reached back, grabbing one of Viggo’s hands and pulling it over, shoving it against his own mouth to muffle the sounds. “Vig, Vig. ‘arder.”
Viggo growled, turning his head and kissing him hard, and Sean opened his mouth and kissed back just as harshly, trying to claim Viggo’s mouth as he felt his orgasm approaching. Viggo was slamming into him now, the sounds loud in the hotel room, and Sean could feel his breath fogging the glass. He could barely see himself because his vision was spotted with white, but he didn’t need to see to rock back against Viggo’s cock, meeting every single one of his thrusts.
“Fill me up, Vig,” he gasped out, barely hanging onto coherence and proper words. “Yer the only one; the only one that can breed me like this.” He bit against Viggo’s lips. “Come with me. Come.”
He felt Viggo’s teeth against his neck, biting down just as he shoved his knot inside Sean. Sean nearly screamed at the burning stretch, his body clamping down against it, and he felt Viggo coming and he reached down and stroked his own cock just once before he tipped over the edge.
The two of them fell down into a sweaty, panting heap in front of the mirror. Sean closed his eyes, leaning back against Viggo’s shoulder as he tried to breathe.
“You,” he said, and ran out of breath to continue. He swallowed. “You should let those Alpha instincts out more often, Vig. They are fucking strong. That was fantastic.”
“Christ,” Viggo said, hiding his face in Sean’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I said that. Any of that. I-sorry.”
Sean raised an eyebrow, reaching out and cupping his cheek. He tilted his head and kissed Viggo softly, scraping his teeth against his lip. “I liked it,” he said, shrugging slightly. “’Course, I won’t like it at all if you actually go through wi’ it and I don’t think it’s even possible, but I like it as dirty talk. It’s fuckin’ sexy.”
Viggo lifted his eyes, staring at him. He was blushing and it was so goddamn adorable that Sean had to kiss him.
“… Really?” Viggo said when he finally had his mouth free again.
“Mm,” Sean shrugged. He licked his lips. “It’s nice ta know that you think me sexy like this. Christ, Vig, I’ve never been fat, ever, and I’ve got clothes from fuckin’ Sharpe that I can still wear. That’s from ten years ago. This is goddamn weird.”
“Baby,” Viggo said firmly, his hand stroking over Sean’s stomach. “Not fat. Baby.”
“Yeah,” he grinned, leaning his head against Viggo’s. “Your baby, you bastard, and don’t you forget it.”
“Not going to,” Viggo pecked him on the lips. He shifted backwards, pulling out gently. They both hissed. “Stay here, I’ll get something to clean us up,” he paused, and threw Sean a small grin as he stood up.
“Then we’ll find you some bigger clothes.”
***
part two
Okay. I don't usually write kink fic. I never, ever write self-indulgent, kinky, absolutely filthy fic with way too many words. Well, sometimes I do, but I don't ever... post them. This fic is partly written in response to the latest Upsetting Sean Bean News, partly written so I can exorcise these ideas and move on to write better things, and entirely posted because I trust the VigBean people on my f-list and I know you guys have seen (and written) weirder. Yeah. Uh.
It's friendslocked. I'm not crossposting it. It is so long it requires two posts. Please take note of the warnings and read the linked post first.
The title stolen from Snow Patrol. Lastly, I am not sorry for any of this.
signal fire
Characters/Pairing: Viggo Mortensen/Sean Bean, brief mentions of both the Game of Thrones cast and the Lord of the Rings cast
Rating: Very, very NC-17
Words: 16302
Summary: “Bean is a veteran actor, but it seems that his personal life looms larger than his career, and many fear that with his history, he’s incapable of portraying a strong, quiet Alpha like Eddard Stark.” Relationships between two Alphas are illegal, because the world believes they can’t have children. Sean and Viggo had an entirely unexpected surprise, prove them wrong, and change the world instead of themselves. This summary makes it sound far less self-indulgent than it actually is.
Warnings: Omegaverse and all kinks associated with it (mpreg, knotting, self-lubricating butts, etc - read the link please), impregnation kink, knotting, sex in front of a mirror, faux social issues, solving faux social issues, unabashed sappiness, OC.
Sean Bean’s performance as Lord Eddard Stark is solid and incredibly commendable. He carries off the air of command of a true Alpha worth his salt, and though he does bend his knee to his King the world never seems to forget that he’s an Alpha.
It might be redundant to mention Sean Bean’s acting as Ned Stark, but there is no moment when I do not believe that he’s truly an Alpha. Ned does not posture and strut-in fact, in one of his first scenes, he kneels to his King-but his confidence and carriage shows his position as an Alpha clearly enough. Bean carried it off. There are no doubts of that.
When the casting of Game of Thrones was announced, there were uproars amongst the fans when Sean Bean was chosen as Eddard Stark. Bean is a veteran actor, but it seems that his personal life looms larger than his career, and many fear that with his history, he’s incapable of portraying a strong, quiet Alpha like Eddard Stark. I’m glad to say that those people can eat their words, for he has proven them entirely wrong.
***
“Julian.”
A young boy-he couldn’t be more than six years old-looked up at the sound of his name. He stopped talking mid-word and smiled immediately when he recognised the voice, pulling away from his companion, reaching out.
“Papa!”
Sean picked up his son and pulled him into his arms, making a soft oof noise. He ruffled his son’s bright blond hair before he shifted the boy a little bit-until he could sit down. Julian had swung his arms around his papa’s neck, looking up with him with a pair of striking blue eyes.
“Are you finished for the day, papa?”
“Yeah, unless they decide ta call me again,” Sean answered, smiling.
“Good,” Julian said. “I’ll ask about it later, because I think you want to talk to Isaac. Right, papa?”
“Right.”
Isaac Hempstead-Wright blinked, looking up at the sound of his name. He had been talking to Julian for quite a while, but it was honestly always a shock whenever Julian said something so perceptive and intelligent. It usually made him feel just a little bit inadequate, even though he knew it was stupid.
“You’re really smart, Julian,” he said admiring. “But uh- what is it, Mi- Sean?” It was so odd to call Sean by his first name, especially when Isaac’s mother hand spent a lot of time in her youth watching Sharpe. It was still a little surreal that he was acting at this man’s son. They were technically colleagues, but that was totally too weird for him to think about.
“Director’s calling for you,” Sean said, and he nudged Isaac gently towards the set. “I think you haveta call yer mother too, because he ‘as some ideas fer the next episodes he want to run through the both of you.
“And of course Julian’s smart,” he continued as he grinned, green eyes glittering. “He takes after his father.”
Isaac wasn’t a stupid boy. He knew Sean wasn’t referring to himself.
***
Sean officially hated Malta’s heat. This was getting fucking ridiculous.
Odysseus’s wig stuck to his neck and the armour was so heavy that Sean imagined that they cut against his shoulders. The food here was so bad that he was literally throwing up every single day because of it, although Sean was starting to wonder if it was just because the food hated him. No one else seemed to be doing as badly.
At least the tasteless protein cubes they were supposed to eat for building up muscles were still working. Sean needed those; he popped them like candy nowadays, because despite throwing up (or because of it) he felt ravenously hungry. He supposed that it was due to all of the working out he had to do for the movie, especially now that Wolfgang had added a fight scene for Odysseus. A chance for him to show his prowess, they had said, because the producers were making noises about making a movie about The Odyssey if Troy did well domestically and internationally.
Sean was a rising star and they wanted to make use of him as much as possible. Of course, he had said yes-he would be stupid not to-even though it would cut down on his spare time even more. He promised Viggo that he would schedule at least two months free so that they could fly off to some remote place where no one knew them from Lord of the Rings. Two months where they didn’t have to hide.
Same-sex alpha-alpha relationships were illegal. They were literally the only illegal relationships left in the world right now, and the laws weren’t budging. Alphas were commodities, with genes that couldn’t be wasted in non-reproductive relationships; Alphas had the civic duty to their country and the damn species to breed. The Omegas might claim that society saw them as broodmares, but society saw everyone’s worth as being judged by their breeding potentials. Alphas were the stallions who would be led to the mares to breed no matter if they actually wanted to or not. Most didn’t complain.
Sean was an Alpha, and he had been taught since his youth what he was supposed to do. He had it hammered in so hard-and had watched his Alpha father and Omega mother all of his life-that he married Debra when they were both so young so that they would have more time to have children. Of course, that had fallen apart. He did eventually have children, though.
Viggo was an Alpha as well. They were two of the only three Alphas amongst the Rings cast (the third was Ian), with Elijah as their unbounded Omega whom they protected. Everyone else were Betas-Betas were, after all, the majority, even though there were still more Alphas in executive positions. People had started rumours that Sean was sleeping with Elijah then, or that he still was, simply because the world seemed to be unable to conceive of Alphas and Omegas having platonic relationships when they weren’t related by blood.
Sean never did sleep with Elijah. He did, however, sleep with Viggo. He was still sleeping with Viggo, being careful with their outward appearance so that there would be a scandal about it. The law against homosexual double-Alpha relationships might not be enforced, but legal discrimination wasn’t the only discrimination in existence. He sighed, rubbed at his head. Thinking about this always gave him a headache, and now the heat was making the stars dance in front of his eyes.
“Sean!” he lifted his head, squinting slightly. He could see Wolfgang calling, and he hefted himself to his feet, a hand on a table. The world spun. Sean shook his head, but the throbbing worsened even further. He took a step forward, and he felt his legs give out underneath him.
Then he was surrounded by darkness.
***
“Viggo-look, I know you’re busy right now, but I really need you to come over to Malta.”
“I’m filming, Orlando-”
“I know, but this is really bad. Beanie collapsed in the middle of the day. He says he’s fine but I’m worried-”
“Orli, slow down. You’re telling me that Sean fainted?”
“Yeah. He just stood up from his chair and then went down like a sack of bricks. He told met the doctor gave him a clean bill of health and told him to drink more water. Wolfgang has the go-ahead to keep filming Odysseus’s scenes, but Beanie still looks like shit.”
“…Give me a minute- yeah, I have a filming break coming up next week.”
“Great! Thanks, Vig. I’m really tired to talking to a brick wall.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think the doctor told Beanie something but he’s not sharing with the class. He’s just… spacing out a lot and being stupidly evasive when I ask. You’re the only one who can get anything out of me, I swear.”
“I’ll try, Orlando.”
“God, if you can’t do something, I don’t know who can.”
***
“Daddy!”
“Hey there, little soldier,” Viggo bent down and scooped his youngest child, his miracle child, into his arms, holding him tight and feeling soft, fat arms wrap around his neck. He turned his head, pressing a kiss against Julian’s temple. Then he looked up, reaching out with one hand to cup against Sean’s neck, pulling him in close.
“Close your eyes, Julian,” Sean murmured, and that was all the warning their boy had, because Viggo was already leaning in and kissing him hard, all teeth and tongue claiming him. Sean growled underneath his breath, his fingers tight against Viggo’s arm. There would be bruises tomorrow and Viggo was already thinking about wearing tank tops, showing the bruises that his husband had placed on him-the bruises he was willing to accept from this man and only this man; the bruises he would always be proud of, because it showed that he belonged to Sean.
“Ew,” Julian said, and Sean laughed against their lips. “You’re both gross.”
Viggo slowly pulled away, his fingers sliding through Sean’s hair. He leaned in again, kissing those tempting lips and brushing his fingers against one cheek. Sean’s wrinkles had deepened even further while he had been gone, and Viggo frowned. His fingers trailed over them, and his instincts screamed at him that his husband had changed without his permission, and that wasn’t something he allowed.
Sean tipped his head and kissed Viggo on the wrist. “I think,” he said, his voice cast into a low murmur, “we should go inside.”
They were getting stares. Discreet ones, of course, because Viggo had made sure to tuck himself behind something before he caught Julian, but Julian’s announcement of his presence already made a few look. They were both Alphas, they were married, they had a child, and they made enough noise about it to change things-there was no reason why they wouldn’t look.
“Let’s,” Viggo said, and he pulled back from Sean to focus on Julian. He kissed the boy on the forehead again, and Julian made a small face. “Then my little soldier can tell me when he has learned by hanging around the set.”
“Lots,” Julian promised. Sean’s fingers curled around his own, and Viggo let himself be led.
***
“Tell me everything you know.”
Viggo was two minutes off the plane and already giving orders, his eyes narrowed and lips pursed like the King of Men. Orlando couldn’t help but smile, shoving his hands into his own pockets as he tried to keep up with Viggo.
“Everything I’ve told you haven’t changed,” he said, shrugging slightly. “It’s just getting weirder, or maybe it’s weird because I’m now noticing things, but-you know, Beanie’s stopped smoking? I don’t think it’s a new thing, but he hasn’t smoked in a while, and he’s begged off Brad-God, I need to introduce the two of you, and Eric!-when Brad asked him out for drinks. I don’t think he drinks at all nowadays, which is bloody strange.”
He chuckled, shaking his head, “It’s like he’s on some kind of mad health regime, really. If he is, it’s too damn late, because we’re almost done filming. Did I tell you that Wolfgang had the writers pen in a scene with Odysseus because he likes Sean so much?”
“No,” Viggo chuckled, “but I’m not surprised.” He stopped in his tracks, turning to look at Orlando, his eyes half-narrowed. Orlando had always fancied it to be the look that Viggo turned onto roadkill before he roasted it and ate it, and he tried to not back up a step. “Let’s go.”
“Yeah,” Orlando said, and he deliberately didn’t think about what it meant that Viggo was willing to drop everything for Sean; that he looked at Orlando and barely saw him, because his focus was entirely on a man still some distance away. Viggo was an Alpha and Sean was an Alpha and they were both men; it was just so much safer for him to think that it wasn’t possible.
“I’ll drive,” he said instead.
**
Viggo closed the flimsy, wooden trailer door behind him. Then he turned around, leaning against it. Sean was sitting on the small bed, his fingers intertwined and clenched so hard the knuckles were white. His shoulders were tense, lips drawn back unconsciously to bare his teeth even though his eyes were boring holes into the floor. If Viggo wasn’t an Alpha himself, he would’ve gotten out of the room immediately-Sean looked defensive and ready to attack anyone who so much as came near him.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” Viggo kept his voice low, barely above a murmur. He had never been the type of Alpha that postured and threw his weight around-he left those antics to people who couldn’t assert their authority with just a look-but he pushed, nonetheless, walking over to the bed and falling to his knees. He took Sean’s hands into his own and started rubbing at the knuckles.
“Didn’t think I’d see you ‘ere,” Sean mumbled, still not lifting his eyes.
Viggo rubbed harder, stroking his thumb down to follow the thin bones and tendons of Sean’s wrist. “Orlando called me. He told me that you collapsed and you are ill, so don’t try to tell me you’re fine.” He looked up, smiling slightly as he brushed his knuckles against Sean’s cheek. If Sean was an Omega, Viggo would’ve kissed him already, holding him close and burying his hands into Sean’s hair-but he wasn’t, so he didn’t.
“Besides, I think I’m overdue for a visit anyway.”
Sean bit his lip, “I- I think I ‘ave somethin’ I haveta tell you.”
“Yeah?” Viggo leaned back, still holding onto Sean’s hands, to sit on his haunches. “I’m listening.”
Sean took a deep breath, seeming to gather up his courage. His eyes flickered left, then right, fixating on the door for a long moment. Viggo got the message and he shifted a little to the side, so that Sean had an unimpeded view-and path-to the exit, and he wondered what on Earth did Sean feel he had to protect from him.
“I’m pregnant.”
Viggo blinked, “What?”
“Pregnant,” Sean said again, rubbing at his nose. He licked his lips, not meeting Viggo’s eyes. “Knocked up, bun in the oven, in the Omega way,” he rubbed at his eyes, and snuck a peek at Viggo, who had gone as still as a statue. “It’s yours, Vig.”
There was a huge roar in his ears and Viggo was moving before he even knew it. He had reached out and slammed a hand against Sean’s chest, pushing him onto the bed as he climbed over him, pressing their lips together. Sean’s fingers curled around his shoulders, but Viggo pulled at them, grabbing both wrists and pinning them above Sean’s head as he pried him lips open, claiming his mouth and breathing in his scent. He heard Sean moan beneath him, and his instincts screamed-his hands were pulling off Sean’s shirt already, fingers dancing from his collarbones to his chest, flicking at his nipples (these will be used to feed my child, he thought giddily), and splaying out his hand against his stomach. Sean’s skin was warm underneath his hand, and it might just be his imagination but it seemed warmer than usual. He could feel the baby underneath Sean’s skin.
A child. His baby. His baby with Sean.
“Mine,” he said, and he couldn’t even recognise his own voice. It was a low, rumbling growl, and Viggo turned his eyes up, fixing on Sean. “Mine.”
“Aye,” Sean said softly, and the fear that was knotting his muscles seemed to have faded. He reached out and cupped his hand around Viggo’s neck, pulling him in for a long kiss. He arched up underneath him. “Yours, Vig. Just like you’re mine.”
There was something he had to ask here-Viggo’s mind was trying to bat away the Alpha instincts that crowded into his head. He had always prided himself for being able to control those urges and to not behave like a caveman, damnit-
“How?” the question slipped out before he was even aware of the word sitting on his tongue. “I- you’re a male Alpha.”
“Don’t know,” Sean said, turning away. “Everyone knows that it ain’t supposed to happen, but I still ‘ave the equipment, and so do you.” He poked Viggo on the chest, licking his lips a little. “Apparently something ‘appened ta turn it on.”
Viggo narrowed his eyes, searching his memories, “… It was when I visited you during that Nicolas Cage movie, wasn’t it?” He reached out, cupping Sean’s face with a hand and turning him to look at Viggo. “You were begging me to knot you.” His hand smoothed down, flattening out against Sean’s stomach again. “That was four months ago.”
Sean nodded, “Yeah, that’s me ‘eat alrigh’. Doc said that me ma bein’ an Omega might also ‘ave somethin’ ta do about it.”
“Is that why you’re sick?”
“Mornin’ sickness,” Sean explained, and his grin was ironic and dim, but it was there. “I’ve been ‘aving it for the past three months and it doesn’t seem ta be endin’.”
Viggo looked at him for a long moment then down to his hand-which was spread out against Sean’s flat stomach. He looked up, silently questioning with a small tilt of the head. Sean shrugged.
“I’ve been workin’ out a lot. Muscles are stronger, so they ain’t givin’ in much. Baby’s pretty small too.”
He moved to sit up, and Viggo moved back immediately. They looked at each other for a moment before Viggo moved to the head of the bed, back against the headboard with his arms open and legs spread. Sean followed him, leaning against him, his spine perfectly aligned against Viggo’s chest. Viggo’s hands moved, stroking against Sean’s abdomen, feeling the strong muscles underneath the smooth, hairless skin. His lips grazed against Sean’s neck.
There were so many issues to be dealt with. There was the damn law. Most of Europe had quitted trying to criminalise non-abusive relationships, but double-Alpha relationships were still incredibly rare and looked down upon. Britain and America still criminalised homosexual Alpha relationships and it was only fifteen or so years ago that heterosexual Alpha relationships were made legal in the latter. Viggo even had to be born in Argentina because his parents’ relationship wasn’t legal in America.
Sean’s career would definitely suffer if the news got out that he was pregnant. Pregnancy, according to society, wasn’t made for Alphas.
Society loved its little boxes and labels, and what Sean managed to do-what both of them managed to do-defeated so many expectations that they would both certainly be looked at differently when news got out of this. They might even be in danger. Viggo’s hand was clenching at his side, fisting against the sheets, and he swore that he would do anything he could to keep Sean safe. He knew exactly how strong of an Alpha he was, and even though he rarely used that power when off-camera, he wouldn’t keep it back now. He had to protect Sean and their child, and he would give anything to do so.
For the first time in his life, Viggo’s instincts and his mind were perfectly in line with each other. His instincts screamed and railed at him to protect both his baby and his- Viggo realised with a jolt that he had been treating Sean like he would treat an Omega, and Sean was letting him. Sean, who fought him every time that they fell into bed with each other until they were both covered in scratches and bite marks and bruises.
“Don’t get used to this,” Sean said, his voice thick. Even when he was falling asleep, he could still read Viggo’s mind. “I ain’t goin’ ta lettin’ you make all me decisions or ‘ave me quit actin’ to stay ‘ome ta be yer little pet Omega or somethin’. I’m just tired right now.”
Viggo stroked a hand through Sean’s hair, “If I wanted an Omega, I wouldn’t have fallen for you. I’m just thinking.”
“Think softer,” Sean ordered, shifting on the bed until his entire weight was pressing onto Viggo, using him as a pillow. His eyes were a brilliant green. “I know we’ve got lots ta talk ‘bout and even more ta do and I’ll help you with the thinkin’, but I haven’t seen you in a bit.” He left I missed you unspoken, but Viggo could hear it anyway.
“We’ll talk later,” Viggo agreed, pressing a kiss against Sean’s hair.
“Hey, Vig?”
“Mm?”
“You’re really happy ‘bout the baby, yeah?” The tone of the question was far too casual for it to actually be casual. Viggo’s hand stilled for a moment before he nipped against Sean’s neck.
“You’re going to have our child, Sean. I don’t think ‘happy’ covers all of it.”
“Good,” Sean said, his accent thickening so much that if Viggo was anyone else, he wouldn’t be able to understand him. “Didn’t think you would be.”
Viggo jerked, blinking hard-but Sean had fallen asleep, and he was left with a mind that was far too awake, trying to figure out what Sean meant. Was this why he was suddenly so docile?
For the rest of the night, Viggo couldn’t sleep.
***
It took a rare Alpha to be able to pull off long hair. All Omegas could-in fact, long hair was the required length for Omegas for most of history-and most Betas were capable of it because many of their features could still be considered ‘delicate’. But Alphas generally looked terrible with long hair. Even female Alphas sheared their hair short because they didn’t look good with it, much less male Alphas, whose features were even stronger.
Viggo laughed, burying his fingers in Sean’s long strands of gold as he was slammed against the door, the breath knocked out of him. His lips parted as he panted against Sean’s lips, all urgency as he rocked his hips upwards, feeling the other Alpha’s cock against his own.
Sean’s hand snuck down past Viggo’s waistband and curled his fingers around the slowly-growing knot. Viggo gasped, thrusting his hips upwards, trying to fuck into that hand, but Sean had his other hand around his shoulder, pressing him into the wall.
“I want,” Sean’s voice was low and rough, his stubble scraping against Viggo’s ear. “I want you inside me, Vig. I want you ta fuck me hard, slamming all the way inside. I want you ta knot me and fill me with your come. Then I want you ta do it all over again.” Fingers against Viggo’s lips-Viggo darted his mouth out and licked against the tips, helplessly aroused by the words.
“Come on now, King of the West. What are you waiting for?”
Viggo moved. He grabbed Sean by his arms and shoved him backwards, practically throwing him onto the big, luxurious bed of Sean’s hotel suite. Sean dropped back, his eyes glittering in the lowered lights, teasing as he spread his legs and Viggo couldn’t resist the invitation. He leaned over Sean’s, kissing him hard, his fingers moving down Sean’s hips, curving around his cock and back down to his entrance-
“Jesus,” he broke off the kiss to gasp, shaking hard. His fingers pulled out of Sean, coming back wet and glistening. Viggo closed his eyes, biting down his lip as he imagined Sean kneeling on his bed, head thrown back as he stretched himself open, preparing himself for Viggo’s cock, Viggo’s knot. If he thought about it more he was going to explode without a single thrust.
Sean had no Omega pheromones, but Viggo didn’t need any of them. He was hard just looking at him, taking in the smooth, golden skin, the strong jaw and the broad shoulders. Sean was an Alpha through and through-the heavy knot at the base of his cock proved it-and he looked utterly glorious lying there with his legs spread and hole wet, inviting Viggo to fuck him.
And Viggo was already lining himself up. He felt Sean’s hand on his neck and leaned down, their mouths crashing together in a battle of teeth and tongue and lips. His lip split and he could taste his own blood, but Sean was already licking against the wound, his hips rocking upwards, urging-and Viggo pushed inside him, groaning loudly at the feel of the hot, tight vice clamping around his cock. Sean’s legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him in even more, seating him deep inside, and Viggo fell over him, gasping.
He drew back and thrust in, breathing in Sean’s sharp, pleasured cry and letting it sink into his lungs. “You’re so damn gorgeous,” his words were in his mouth as he did it again, leaning down to kiss Sean, to swallow down those sounds until he was filled with them like how he was filling Sean up. “So goddamn beautiful, Sean,” he breathed the words against Sean’s neck, taking in his scent. Sean smelled sweet, incredibly sweet, and Viggo felt like he was drowning in him.
“Vig,” Sean gasped his name, arching against him, his cock sliding against Viggo’s stomach, sending sparks up and down his spine. “Harder, harder,” his nails sank into Viggo’s shoulders. There would be bruises there tomorrow. “Harder-get your knot in me, Vig. Do it, do it.”
There was something Viggo was missing here. Sean had never wanted it this badly and had never begged for him like this. But he was begging now and there was no way Viggo wouldn’t give it to him. He dragged in a sharp breath, leaning against one elbow above Sean as he pulled out almost completely, leaving only the tip of his cock inside, before he slammed in. Sean threw his head back, biting down hard his own palm to stifle his scream. Viggo smiled, reaching out to pull that hand away, muffling Sean’s sounds with his own mouth as he did it again, and again, and again.
Sean was still too tight for his knot, but he had asked, and like hell was Viggo going to refuse him. He hissed, reaching out with two fingers- and with his next thrust in, he shoved his fingers as well, stretching Sean even further open. Sean was incoherent by now, writhing against him, his lips forming litanies of Viggo’s name, over and over and over again, so relaxed and loose that he let Viggo’s fingers in easily. Viggo hissed out a breath of Sean’s name before he pulled his hand away and breached Sean’s body with his knot, falling forward, leaning their foreheads together. His hand curled around Sean’s cock, stroking him hard as he felt him come-felt him clench down around him.
“Mine,” Viggo was growling and coming as well, pressing inside as much as he could, following his Alpha’s instincts to plant the seed as deep inside as possible even though he knew it would fall on barren soil. “Mine,” he whispered again. Sean’s lips parted underneath his own, and his mouth tasted so sweet that he couldn’t help but lick every single corner, to taste him in every way he could. He could feel Sean’s legs still around his hips, keeping him inside even as Viggo had softened.
Sean rolled his hips gently, opening his eyes. Viggo leaned against the hand against his cheek, nipping against the fingers.
“What was that about?” he asked, his voice half-muffled.
“Wanted you,” Sean said, his smile small and sweet. His eyelids were heavy, and his eyes were a deep green. “Just wanted you.”
Viggo kissed him again, pulling out slowly and relishing in Sean’s quiet hiss at the move. “You have me,” he said.
“You’ll always have me.”
***
Sean woke up warm.
It wasn’t the kind of heat that came from sweat sticking to his skin because the weather in Malta was too hot for an Englishman to deal with. No, it was the warmth of someone else in his bed who had wrapped him up completely-and Sean almost shoved him away when he remembered last night, forcing himself to relax. He didn’t like being held like this, but he could tolerate it. He would have to tolerate it.
Viggo had taken the news remarkably well last night, but Sean suspected this meant that he would blow up even more this morning. He wondered if Viggo would accuse him of lying, because who had ever heard of a male Alpha who was capable of carrying a baby? Male Alphas were sires by default, and Sean knew that there were theories that male Alphas were the least evolved, because every other sex and hierarchy was capable of siring and bearing children both. Even the female Alphas could carry kids, even though they were said to have a lot of trouble with it. Sean didn’t know if that was entirely true: Abigail was a female Alpha, and Evie was an accident.
He tried his best to not move too much and breathe shallowly, casting his senses outwards. Sean hadn’t noticed it until now, but it seemed that he had been wrapped in a very thin glass lately. All of his senses seem muted, half-silenced, and he wondered if it was out of sheer self-preservation. If he had to smell what he threw up most mornings, he would never actually stop throwing up.
The doctor that Wolfgang called in wasn’t a tokologist or a paterologist-he was a general practitioner, hired for his sheer discretion because illnesses on sets tend to spoil the reputation of the upcoming movie. It was a good thing that the man chased out Wolfgang when he finally figured out Sean’s symptoms, but that barely made up for the sheer humiliation of sitting at the clinic in a paper gown and having a doctor babble at him excitedly about how much he and his baby was going to improve scientific knowledge. Sean had refused immediately, storming out, and he knew it was just patient-doctor confidentiality that stopped the bastard from leaking out information.
He wasn’t going to be a lab rat to be tested on. His son wouldn’t be either, and Sean would make sure of that. He didn’t know how it worked, honestly, that he could still have the protective Alpha instincts that had followed him his whole life even though he was doing something that Alphas didn’t usually do. He didn’t even have any of those Omega instincts-if Viggo tried to protect him now, he would punch him more than he would thank him.
It was too damn complicated.
“Now who is thinking loudly?”
Viggo’s voice made him start, jerking slightly in the other man’s arms. He felt a hand stroking through his hair before Viggo was pulling away from him, keeping a distance between them. Sean turned to face him, and found a pair of blue eyes that were far too bright for Viggo to have just woken up.
“Did you sleep at all?” Sean asked suspiciously.
“No,” Viggo admitted, shrugging slightly. “My body is still running on another clock, so I’m not tired. Yet.” He looked at Sean, “You want to tell me what you’re thinking about?”
Sean looked away, “It ain’t important”
“Okay then,” Viggo shrugged. “Then I’ll start. Why were you acting like some kind of needy Omega just now?”
Jerking back, Sean stared at him. “What?”
Viggo gave him a look, and he sighed quietly. “I’m not stupid, Sean,” he murmured. “You let me shove him onto the bed without fighting back, you wanted me to hold you even though I know you think it’s suffocating, and you actually told me that you’re mine. That’s not normal for you.”
“Well,” Sean said, irritated at being suddenly on the defensive. “This bloody situation ain’t normal fer me either.”
“No it isn’t,” Viggo admitted easily. “The whole situation is weird. We’ve been told our whole lives that loving someone of our own hierarchy is wrong, especially as an Alpha, because we can’t breed. You’re proving them wrong in the most obvious way possible.” He reached out, cupping Sean by the cheek and stroking against his cheekbone. “And don’t tell me it’s hormones, because Exene never really did acting differently from herself when she was pregnant with Henry. And she’s an Alpha, so I know what I’m talking about.”
Sean bit his lip, licked against it. He pushed Viggo’s hand away and clenched his own in his hands.
“It’s fuckin’ weird, alrigh’? It’s fuckin’ weird. I’ve sired three girls and two of them are Alphas and I’m pretty sure Evie will be too, so that’s my damn breedin’ duty done. I didn’t think I would ever ‘ave another kid because now I ‘ave you and it’s fuckin’ impossible, yeah? It’s just…” he bit on his lip.
Viggo didn’t speak. He just waited.
“The fuckin’ doctor,” Sean said. “That damn fuckin’ doctor. He told me-told me that it’s probably me mom’s Omega gene that caused this ta ‘appen, and he told me he wants to do fuckin’ experiments. Nothing invasive, he said, except for a whole bunch of fuckers looking up my ass and watching me like a damn labrat.” Sean was starting to shake, and Viggo immediately moved over, folding Sean’s hands into his own. “He treats me like a fuckin’ freak and I know you never thought you could ‘ave kids wi’ me, so I ain’t blame you if you treat me like a freak too. I thought-maybe if I act like an Omega, you’ll find it better. Easier.”
“No,” Viggo said, and he squeezed Sean’s hands, looking at him hard in the eyes. “It’s you. I love you. I love you for being an Alpha; love the way that you fight me; love the way you order me around. I know that there’s nothing you’ll ever do just for the sake of pleasing me.” He pulled away, cupping Sean’s face with both hands and leaning their foreheads together. “I love you and this baby and you’re not a damn freak, and if I ever meet the doctor I will kill him with my bare hands for saying those things to you, because you don’t deserve it.”
Sean’s hand folded around the back of Viggo’s neck, and they were so close that Viggo breathed in his exhale. “You sure? There’s going ta be a fuckin’ circus once people find out. I might not be showin’ now, but I’m going ta eventually, and-”
“You’ll have me beside you,” he promised. “Every step of the way.”
“Once this gets into the news, my career’s finished. There’s no way anyone would want a male Alpha who got pregnant to play any of the roles.” Sean said, and he knew this as a fact. Hollywood hated anomalies-all of their actors had to be normal.
“Bullshit. You’re good, Sean, and you know that I don’t say that easily. If Hollywood doesn’t want you, then we’ll get out of Hollywood,” Viggo traced his finger over a cheekbone. “You loved Macbeth, loved theatre. I’ll follow you back to London, because if Hollywood doesn’t have you it’s not worth a damn.”
“I can’t do anything except act, Vig. I ain’t like you. What the hell can I do? And it’s still illegal-”
“Sean,” Viggo interrupted, pulling away so that he could look this man-his man-in the eyes. “I’ll find a way. We’ll both find a way. We’re Alphas, remember? We’re the ones who are supposed to rule the world. Changing it would be a damn breeze. If they’re going to prosecute us for being Alphas, then let’s show them what it really means to be an Alpha.”
Sean closed his eyes, laughing quietly, his body sagging against Viggo’s. “God,” he said. “What ‘apped to Mister Politically Correct Mortensen, eh?”
“This is something worth fighting for,” Viggo said simply. He tilted his head and pressed a soft kiss against Sean’s temple. “The world can either change, or it can go to hell.”
Taking Viggo’s hand, Sean pressed a soft, tremulous kiss against his knuckles. “What’s next? Rulin’ the world?”
“If that’s what it takes,” Viggo promised, and his eyes flared blue. “I’ll do anything it takes, Sean.”
***
Sean collapsed on a chair, dug into his pocket, and called the first speed dial. Viggo picked up after the second ring.
“Finished?”
“Yeah,” Sean said, heaving a long breath. He rubbed against his nose “Filming’s over. Fuckin’ fight scene is finally over after two weeks and I’m so goddamn tired it ain’t funny. Your kid’s eatin’ up all my damn energy, Vig.”
“Oh, so when he’s giving you trouble, he’s my son?” Viggo sounded amused.
“’Course, especially when he’s kicking me in the ribs-Christ,” Sean exhaled slowly, placing a hand against his still-flat stomach. The muscles were smoothing out, finally starting to give, and he was damn glad that he wasn’t Brad or Eric and had to go through the scene half-naked. He knew everyone would give him grief for getting fat, and he didn’t know if he could stop himself from snapping back that he had a damn good excuse because he was pregnant. “I don’t know where he has the room ta move so damn much, but he won’t fuckin’ stop kickin’ me. It’s like he’s training for footie or he just hates the fight scene as much as I do. I usually love the stuff, you know that, but it’s damn ‘ard ta convince them ta not hit me in the stomach without spillin’ everythin’.”
Viggo sighed, something amused in the sound. “Don’t tempt me to just drop Hidalgo and fly over again, Sean,” he warned. “Because right now, I really want to.”
“Finish yer damn filmin’,” Sean said, tipping his head up to stare at the ceiling, his phone crammed against his ear to catch Viggo’s every breath. “But fuckin’ ‘ell, Vig, I miss you. If you’re here you can ‘elp me fend off Orlando’s questions.”
“What has the elf done now?”
“Nah, he’s just worried.” Sean rubbed his face. “Christ, ow.”
“… Sean?” Viggo’s voice suddenly sharpened, worried. “What happened?”
“Kid’s got a foot in my liver,” Sean said, teeth gritted. He tried to soothe the baby, stroking against his belly, but the kid seemed to take it as encouragement to kick harder, driving all the breath from his lungs. “Oof.”
“Fuck this,” Viggo swore. “I don’t give a damn, Sean. I’m calling up my agent to send you a ticket down here. I’m not going to wait another two weeks to see you in Wellington.”
“I still don’t like flying, Vig,” Sean said wearily, draping himself completely on the armchair. “But yeah, that sounds good.” He cracked a smile at the phone. “At least I’ll ‘ave someone ta ‘old me ‘air back.”
Viggo hissed out a breath, and Sean could faintly hear him starting to pace. “Morning sickness still there?”
“Took up fuckin’ residence,” he replied. “When’s the ticket?”
“Tomorrow. Just get your ass to the nearest airport and I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Yeah. Yeah, alright.” There was a pause, and Sean continued quietly. “You tol’ Peter yet?”
“Not all of it,” Viggo said, and Sean could practically see him rubbing his eyes. “But you’re coming with me for Wellington, that’s for certain. Our publicists already scheduled an interview for January after Return of the King has finished its run.”
“And I’ll be so fuckin’ huge by then that no one will think it’s a lie or a publicity stunt or whatever the hell the tabloids always say,” Sean sighed. “After that?”
“After that, we’ll leave,” Viggo said quietly. “We have Ian and Stephen in England and my friends in America. They’ll deal with the politics and I’ll pop in here and there for a statement.”
Sean swore, “I hate fuckin’ politics.” He paused. “You know I cancelled on Bay’s The Island, right? It was supposed ta start when I’m big as a fuckin’ ‘ouse.”
“Yeah?”
“There’s some fundin’ snafu goin’ on and now they’ve delayed filmin’. The new dates ‘bout a month after I’m due,” he licked his lips.
“That script has a fight scene for you, right?” Viggo said thoughtfully. “I don’t have anything planned for next year at all, so I can come with you and take care of the baby while you work.” He tapped on his fingers. “Do you want to?”
Sean sat up, “You don’t mind?”
“No? Should I?” Viggo sounded genuinely surprised. “I’m just worried if you have enough time to recover.”
“I can probably convince ‘im ta schedule the ‘eavy stuff ta the back. Most of it is just standin’ or sittin’ ‘round talkin’; Ewan and that girl Scarlett’s got the heavy work o’ it.” Sean licked his lips again, thinking hard. “I’ll just tell ‘im first that he should look for a backup just in case, and when the news break I’ll see if he still wants me ta take the job.”
“He will,” Viggo said with a confidence that Sean desperately wanted to believe in. Then his voice gentled a bit. “Not quite a career suicide, is it?”
Sean snorted quietly, “I’ll believe that when it ‘appens.”
“Hey, there’s only room enough for one pessimist in this relationship and I already took the spot. Get out of my seat.”
“Wanker,” Sean said fondly, his eyes half-closing. “I should ‘ang up. The bill’s going to take half me pay already, and you ‘ave ta call for the ticket.”
“Mm,” Viggo said reluctantly. “Rest up, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” he smiled. The thought of being able to see Viggo tomorrow instead of just talking on the phone was making him smile like a fool, and the baby agreed with him with a gentle kick against his hand. “Pretty sure Julian misses you too, given ‘ow ‘e refuses ta calm down whenever we’re talkin’.”
“Julian?”
“Good name, ain’t it?”
Viggo laughed quietly. “You’re doing all of the work, Sean. You get to pick.”
“Think of a second name,” Sean said, and he hung up.
***
“Julian William Bean,” Viggo announced when he saw Sean at the airport. He reached down and grabbed Sean’s duffel, throwing it behind his back-it was a poor substitute for hugging him, but they weren’t taking any chances.
Sean stared at him before he rolled his eyes. “One, that would be Julian Mortensen, because yer the sire; two, I ain’t going ta let you name both of yer sons after William Blake.”
“You’re doing all the work, so Julian should take your name,” Viggo pointed out. “What about Julian Auden Bean?”
“I ain’t namin’ this kid after a poet. Any poet. Anyway, Henry’s not Henry Cervenka, is ‘e? Yer his sire, he had yer surname. It’ll be the same with this one,” Sean gave his lover a flat look over the hood of the car. “Don’t be fuckin’ stupid.”
“I just think that it’s unfair,” Viggo said, half-muffled with his head inside the trunk where he was dumping Sean’s things in. Sean got into the car and Viggo joined him a few seconds later, continuing. “What about Bean-Mortensen? Mortensen-Bean?”
Sean sighed, “I’d like the kid ta ‘ave a name he doesn’t need to take a year ta learn how to spell it. A simple name, Viggo.”
“Then I’ll name him after you,” Viggo suggested. “It’ll be simple enough. Sean Julian Bean-Mortensen. We can call him Julian at home.”
“Four things,” Sean held up his fingers. “One, Sean’s a fuckin’ common name. Two, he’s goin’ ta introduce ‘imself as ‘Please call me Julian because I ain’t me Pa’ all of ‘is life. Three, I ain’t got an ego that’s so big that I need our son ta be named after me. It’s fuckin’ tacky. Four, no fuckin’ hyphens.”
Viggo threw up his hands. Then he put them back on the steering wheel because he was actually driving. Sean threw him a dubious look.
“I give up,” Viggo said, sounding more amused than defeated. Then he changed his mind. “Look, we keep Julian as the first name… Julian Richard Bean-Mortensen? I insist on the hyphen.”
“… Yer namin’ ‘im after Sharpe,” Sean stared.
“I mean it about naming our son after you,” Viggo threw him a grin. “It won’t be egoistical because it’s a common enough name that only we will know he’s named after you. Plus, Lorna.”
Sean snorted. “I took on Carver because me girl’s named Lorna, not the other way around.” He slid his eyes over to Viggo, “Julian Richard Mortensen is a good name.”
Viggo laughed, “I have a few more months to convince you of the merits of Bean-Mortensen.”
“In yer dreams.”
***
Sean knew that this day would come eventually, but he still frowned as he sucked in his stomach even more and found that he couldn’t button his damn slacks no matter how hard he tried. He stood in front of the mirror, his hand on top of the gentle curve of his abdomen, and sighed when the baby kicked him. It was damn weird; he looked like he had the beginning of a beer belly.
At least he didn’t have any interviews for the Return of the King promotions.
“I blame you fer this,” he informed Viggo over his shoulder.
Viggo moved forward, wrapping his arms around Sean’s waist and pulling him close, nipping him lightly on the neck. “You’re showing,” he said, his voice full of wonder as he placed his hand against Sean’s stomach. Julian kicked him gently in greeting, and Viggo’s smile widened even further. “Christ, Sean, you’re so beautiful like this.”
Sean raised an eyebrow, meeting Viggo’s eyes through the mirror. “You mean fat?”
“No,” Viggo’s voice had deepened, and Sean knew exactly what that meant. He shivered slightly as Viggo continued, his hands moving from Sean’s arms down to his thighs. “You even smell fucking intoxicating, Sean. You’re mine,” he rocked his hips forward, his erection sliding against Sean’s barely-clothed ass. “My Sean. You’re so beautiful with your belly full of baby. With my baby.”
“Jesus,” Sean breathed out. He didn’t feel like an Alpha now; not with Viggo’s chest plastered against his back, Viggo’s hands on him, Viggo’s baby growing inside him. He dropped his head forward, hissing out a breath through his teeth. “Inside me,” he ordered, bracing his hands against the mirror. “Get inside me right now. Fuck me, Vig.”
Viggo got his slacks off so fast and his own belt came off so quickly that the air snapped around them. Sean arched backwards, his breathing speeding up, and he could feel Viggo’s fingers inside him. He was wet already-if his head wasn’t clouded with arousal, he would find it so weird, that he was wet like an Omega or a woman because he wasn’t either of them, but right now he didn’t care. It was goddamn convenient, and he moaned out loud as Viggo slid inside him, stretching him, filling him up until his knot was pressed up against his ass.
“God, Sean,” Viggo gasped, and he flung his arm around him, his hand splaying out against the small bump as he started to thrust slowly. “Sean. Sean, Jesus Christ. You know what I want?” His teeth grazed against Sean’s neck, nipping gently.
“W- what?” Sean’s fingers scrabbled against the cool, smooth surface of the mirror, looking for some purchase. He gasped, loud and sharp, when Viggo pulled him back until his whole weight leaned against the other man, impaling even further on Viggo’s cock. “Tell me, Vig. Tell me.”
“I want to fill you up again. Give you another baby right now, growing alongside this one, so that when you give birth you’ll still be pregnant. You’ll always be pregnant, you’ll always look like this, big with my children inside you,” Viggo’s voice was steady, but his thrusts sped up. Faster, harder, and Sean moaned helplessly. The truth of the scenario was horrific, but right now-there was nothing he wanted more. “You’ll be big all the time, with the skin of your stomach tight with baby. I’ll do it over and over, because you’re mine and everyone will be able to see it. I want to fuck you when you’re in public, bend you over with your belly hanging so everyone can see it, and I’ll fuck you and fill you up. Again, and again, and again.”
“Vig,” Sean reached back, grabbing one of Viggo’s hands and pulling it over, shoving it against his own mouth to muffle the sounds. “Vig, Vig. ‘arder.”
Viggo growled, turning his head and kissing him hard, and Sean opened his mouth and kissed back just as harshly, trying to claim Viggo’s mouth as he felt his orgasm approaching. Viggo was slamming into him now, the sounds loud in the hotel room, and Sean could feel his breath fogging the glass. He could barely see himself because his vision was spotted with white, but he didn’t need to see to rock back against Viggo’s cock, meeting every single one of his thrusts.
“Fill me up, Vig,” he gasped out, barely hanging onto coherence and proper words. “Yer the only one; the only one that can breed me like this.” He bit against Viggo’s lips. “Come with me. Come.”
He felt Viggo’s teeth against his neck, biting down just as he shoved his knot inside Sean. Sean nearly screamed at the burning stretch, his body clamping down against it, and he felt Viggo coming and he reached down and stroked his own cock just once before he tipped over the edge.
The two of them fell down into a sweaty, panting heap in front of the mirror. Sean closed his eyes, leaning back against Viggo’s shoulder as he tried to breathe.
“You,” he said, and ran out of breath to continue. He swallowed. “You should let those Alpha instincts out more often, Vig. They are fucking strong. That was fantastic.”
“Christ,” Viggo said, hiding his face in Sean’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I said that. Any of that. I-sorry.”
Sean raised an eyebrow, reaching out and cupping his cheek. He tilted his head and kissed Viggo softly, scraping his teeth against his lip. “I liked it,” he said, shrugging slightly. “’Course, I won’t like it at all if you actually go through wi’ it and I don’t think it’s even possible, but I like it as dirty talk. It’s fuckin’ sexy.”
Viggo lifted his eyes, staring at him. He was blushing and it was so goddamn adorable that Sean had to kiss him.
“… Really?” Viggo said when he finally had his mouth free again.
“Mm,” Sean shrugged. He licked his lips. “It’s nice ta know that you think me sexy like this. Christ, Vig, I’ve never been fat, ever, and I’ve got clothes from fuckin’ Sharpe that I can still wear. That’s from ten years ago. This is goddamn weird.”
“Baby,” Viggo said firmly, his hand stroking over Sean’s stomach. “Not fat. Baby.”
“Yeah,” he grinned, leaning his head against Viggo’s. “Your baby, you bastard, and don’t you forget it.”
“Not going to,” Viggo pecked him on the lips. He shifted backwards, pulling out gently. They both hissed. “Stay here, I’ll get something to clean us up,” he paused, and threw Sean a small grin as he stood up.
“Then we’ll find you some bigger clothes.”
***
part two