[FIC] RPF: signal fire: the planets bend between us [1/2]
I got my laptop back. 70% of my files too. Not looking forward to Monday. But that's another thing.
For helena_s_renn, who is also an amazing beta with this.
signal fire has been unlocked, but I'm definitely not crossposting.
the planets bend between us
Characters/Pairing: Sean Bean/Viggo Mortensen, Elijah Wood, Ian McKellen, assorted Lord of the Rings cast
Rating: NC-17
Words: 9180
Disclaimer: The omegaverse doesn’t really exist, so this definitely didn’t happen. This is just the product of my imagination.
Summary: Every story has a beginning that goes before the story itself. Before signal fire, Viggo and Sean fall in love despite expectations in New Zealand. Written for helena_s_renn as she prompted me. All warnings from signal fire apply, and reading that first helps.
Part I
The first meeting Viggo had with Elijah wasn’t one he liked to remember.
He had spent most of his lifetime downplaying his Alpha status. It wasn’t that he didn’t like being an Alpha, because it was a so much part of him that he couldn’t ever imagine not being one, but he had always despised the way people looked at him. With a certain mixture of awe and resentment and fear if they were a Beta; with barely-restrained hostility if they were another Alpha; and if they were an Omega…
The first time he met Elijah, he had closed his fingers around the boy’s throat to hold him still before he shoved his nose into his hair and inhaled. Like Elijah was a particularly delicious dish and he hadn’t eaten in months.
“Hey. Hey, mate, enough!”
There was a hand on his shoulder, dragging him back. Viggo growled under his breath on reflex even as he stumbled backwards, shaking his head hard to try to temper down his instincts. He rubbed at his nose for a moment, lifting his eyes to meet Elijah’s eyes.
There, there it was: the thing he hated most. It was in how Elijah was looking at him now, with dilated pupils and parted lips, his breath coming short. Viggo’s hand twitched at his side and he tangled it at the hem of his shirt, feeling his nails dig into skin. But Elijah wasn’t helping, because he was taking a soft breath, practically whimpering as he leaned forward…
But that hand was reaching forward, grabbing hold of Elijah’s shoulder. Viggo shifted out of the way and saw a man of his height shake Elijah hard, cupping his jaw and tilting his head up.
“C’mon, kid,” he said, and his voice was a beautiful thing, deep and rough, his accent wasn’t one that Viggo could place immediately. “No good fer Frodo ta start lustin’ after the King of Men, yeah? Get yer ‘ead out of 'is neck. He ain’t the first Alpha ya’ve met.”
Elijah shook his head hard, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes. When he blinked, his pupils were back to their usual size. Though his eyes were still huge, Viggo had a feeling that they were that way naturally.
“Sorry,” he offered. “I’m usually not that uncivilised.”
“Nah, the kid jest ‘as that kind of effect on Alphas, even stronger than most Omegas. Even Ian was caught all undignified first time he met ‘im,” the stranger said easily, turning around. He gave Viggo a wide smile even as he ruffled Elijah’s hair hard enough to cause the Omega to stumble forward slightly.
“Name’s Sean Bean. I play Boromir.”
Alpha, Viggo’s mind noted immediately. It was obvious in the way that Sean was standing. But there was no hostility in his smiling eyes; no eyeing of Viggo as if he was a sudden threat. He looked to be the same age, with lines around his eyes, but he was holding his hand out to Viggo as if that didn’t matter, as if there weren’t any possible territory problems that came with two Alphas sharing the same space.
Then Sean said, “I got ta tell ya, though, this whole place’s mine. Mebbe if we move ta a new place I might let ya ‘ave yer own little space, but this one’s mine.” He paused. “The kid’s one of mine too, so no touchin’.”
Viggo blinked. Opened his mouth, then closed it. They stared at each other for a long moment, Viggo gaping like a fish, before Sean threw his head back and laughed.
“You look like a fish. C’mon, I ain’t serious ‘bout that.” He slapped Viggo hard on the shoulder. In Viggo’s experience, even amongst the most open-minded of Alphas, such a touch was taboo at best and a challenge at worst. But Sean was still smiling, and it took him a few moments to realise that it was actually a friendly gesture.
He shook his head again before he punched Sean on the arm, exactly as hard as he had been smacked. Then he held out his hand.
“Viggo Mortensen. I’m your new Aragorn. That means, by the way, that you’re going to have to kneel to me eventually.”
The sudden image made his breath catch, but though Elijah’s eyes suddenly shot to him, Sean only laughed again.
“In yer fuckin’ dreams,” he said, and they shook on it.
Viggo didn’t like remember the first time he met Elijah, no; instead he would rather fast-forward his memories to the time when he first met Sean. It was, he thought, a first meeting that already heralded a great many things.
***
Bob Anderson might be a Beta, but Viggo had never had his ass kicked so thoroughly by one person before. He had never been marked with so many bruises either, but he suspected that went along with the ‘ass-kicking’.
He was alone for only a few minutes before Sean plopped down to sit next to him. He stretched his arms out behind his back, leaning against them as he let his head drop backwards into a soft, low sigh.
“Ya know,” Sean started, glancing at Viggo. “Fer some reason ya seem ta take being beaten up by a Beta really well.”
Viggo snorted, shrugging slightly. There was a part of him that wanted to protest, to say that hierarchy had nothing to do with a person’s physical strength- but that was utter nonsense. Besides, he could recognise that Sean was teasing.
“I’m pretty certain that Betas are the ones who invented weapons,” he said instead, grinning slightly. “You know, since the Alphas and Omegas are so busy fucking each other. So Bob is really in his element.”
Sean threw his head back and laughed, hearty and loud. In the same second, the sun came out from behind the clouds, and its light glinted off of Sean’s hair. Viggo’s breath hitched and his hand suddenly clenched tight at his side. His heart squeezed, choking his breath in his throat, and he wanted.
Then Sean stopped laughing, shaking his head. The sun was still out, but the sudden aching need of the moment was gone. Viggo ducked his head down and rubbed at his eyes, belatedly realising that he was probably getting blood all over his face from his knuckles.
“Hey,” Sean said, and he shifted in his seat a little. He reached out and took Viggo’s hands into his own, looking at the scabs. “What the hell did ya do ta yer ‘ands?”
Viggo shrugged, looking at the scabs and bruises that dotted his hands. There was one particularly long one stretching from the last knuckle of the middle finger all the way down to his wrist. He poked at it.
“Sword practice,” he answered, and gave Sean a lopsided smile.
“Yer supposed ta ask them ta pull their punches, ya know,” Sean said wryly, his hands still on Viggo’s. “Not just let them smack ya.”
Viggo snorted. “You know as well as I that a lot of the stunt guys are Alphas,” he said, and for some reason, he didn’t want to pull his hand back. “When have you ever heard of Alphas pulling punches? I’m just happy that our prop swords are pretty light.”
“Shame on you, Mister Mortensen, fer perpetuatin’ hierarchal stereotypes.”
Viggo froze for a moment. It was odd, because there was something obviously challenging about Sean’s words even though there was none of it in his tone. His instincts should have flared immediately, like a fire scraping against his throat, but his mind was completely quiet. He wasn’t tense either, like he was merely having a conversation with one of his Beta friends, completely secure that whatever that was being said wasn’t ammunition against him in a battle for territory or position.
Instead of tension there was only a mild sense of amusement and an overwhelming affection for the man sitting next to him. That was odd too, because it was almost unheard of for Alphas to befriend each other, especially if they were of an age. Even Viggo wasn’t entirely immune to that, even though he had married an Alpha.
He dismissed the thought in favour of leaning over and nudging Sean on the shoulder, laughing.
“I learned from the best, Mister Sean Bean,” he teased.
But his mind was only half on the conversation. He was frowning mentally, trying to understand his own reactions to Sean. It was almost a relief when Bob called them away to do their jobs.
***
Viggo dropped his bags on the ground and tossed the car key over to the nearest flat surface. It just happened to be the shoe cabinet. The metal made a clattering sound over the wood, but he was already ignoring it, turning around.
Right behind him, Sean locked the motel room door, chuckling softly.
“Did ya see that receptionist’s face?” he threw at Viggo. “’e looked like he was going ta ‘ave a ‘eart attack.”
“Most Alphas don’t ask for double-bed rooms, no,” Viggo replied. He was already grinning as he punched Sean against the arm. “You could tell that he was wondering if he would have to call the police later on to report a double homicide or something.”
They had just travelled across the breadth of the North Island down to the South Island, just the two of them, the beautiful scenery, and a car. Everyone had given them shocked looks when they'd told them what they were going to do with the filming break, but Ian had only waved a hand at their concerns and shook his head pointedly at their use of stereotypes, which shut everyone up before Viggo could even speak.
Viggo kept thinking that he should feel some sort of hostility towards Sean, especially in such small spaces. Yet it was just the opposite. He wanted to get even closer to Sean, to press himself against him, skin to skin. It was a ridiculous thought, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Sean felt the same. After all, he hadn’t pushed Viggo away yet, had he?
“The ‘ell are ya standin’ there fer?”
Sean had draped himself over one of the beds, spreading himself all over the sheets. The linen was clean and white, and Viggo’s breath caught at the sight of Sean’s spread legs and he stumbled forward, his hand raised-
“Vig? You alright?” Sean sat up, and Viggo snapped out of the mild trance he had sunk into. He took a sharp, deep breath through his teeth and shook his head hard, rubbing at his eyes. He had no idea what had just happened. He had wanted… wanted to sink to his knees and expose his throat, and at the same time he wanted to shove Sean down the bed and bite down on him, to mark him as his.
Sean had stood up by now, and Viggo let out a strangled groan when he felt Sean’s hand on his arm. The equilibrium of his world tilted slightly, and only the barest thread of self-control stopped him from reaching forward and shoving Sean’s face into his own neck- or to throw himself into Sean’s arms and let his scent mark him from inside out. This didn’t make any sense, and Viggo knew that he had to stop this. Stop it before the two of them did something they regretted.
He looked up, and the sight that met him made his limbs lock up again. Sean had stilled completely, his lips parted and nostrils flaring. Every breath he took was like a small, warm breeze on Viggo’s skin. Viggo couldn’t help but lean in, just a little, breathing in his exhalation, feeling the warmth seep inside him. Their eyes were fixed upon each other’s throat.
Viggo just had to lean in. A few more inches and he would have that skin, that scent, and he could mark Sean.
But Sean was an Alpha; Sean was an Alpha male; Sean was still married. Viggo’s arm trembled under Sean’s grip as he tried to convince his body to pull away. Not even with Exene had this been so confusing. His gaze was fixated on Sean’s throat. If he looked closer, just a little closer, he would be able to see the trembling of the pulse beneath the skin.
“We-” there was a sudden movement in that long column. Sound. Viggo jerked hard, almost physically ripping his eyes away from Sean’s throat to find his face again. He was panting as if he had just run a marathon, his breaths shallow.
Sean let go of his arm as if he was made of fire, using that hand to rub against his nose and mouth. He coughed hard. There was a blush pinking his cheeks. Viggo wanted to reach out and feel the heat against his fingers. He wanted to just… feel him; feel his heartbeat, so his own could align to his.
He swallowed instead, shaking his head hard and looking at he ground. “I think I’m tired,” he said. It was an immense effort to keep his voice steady. “We better get to sleep.”
“Yeah,” Sean said, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat and rubbed a hand through his own hair. “Yeah, we should. Long day tomorrow.”
“Long day,” Viggo echoed. They looked at each other for a moment. There was nothing but awkward silence for a long moment before Sean sighed, giving Viggo a lopsided smile.Viggo could only laugh sheepishly, ducking his head down and digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.
They were just tired. What happened was a fluke.
After all, who had ever heard of male Alphas who wanted to claim each other?
***
Sean’s eyes were on him as Viggo’s fingers skittered over the piano keys. He didn’t know how to play, not really-he could play the guitar, and that helped, but Sean had been trying to teach him how to play the piano lately. Right now they were still at the stage where Viggo was trying to memorise the placement of the keys.
“No,” Sean said. He nudged Viggo over and dropped onto the bench-Viggo ignored that insistent little voice that told him to lean over and take a long inhale of Sean’s scent-before he splayed out his hands on the keys. “Ya put yer thumb on the middle C, not the forefinger. Forefinger goes ta D, then the rest of yer fingers jest follow that.” He placed his hand over Viggo’s and finger-walked with him over the keys until their fingers rested over the keys from the middle C all the way to G.
“Thumb always starts from middle C,” and Sean reached over and batted Viggo’s left hand off of the keys. “Put yer left ‘and on yer lap if ya don’t need it. We ain’t playin’ anythin’ yet, yeah? Lap.”
Viggo barely resisted the urge to drop his hand to Sean’s lap. Instead, he only grinned, bumping against Sean’s shoulder.
“Alright,” he said. He pressed down with his thumb, and pressed the keys slowly towards his right. “Middle C, D, E, F, G.” He looked at Sean before he shook his head, chuckling. “I think you’re getting the easier deal. A guitar’s much simpler. What am I supposed to do with the black keys?”
“Black keys’re kind of complicated,” Sean grinned a little and shoved him over the bench a little. “They’re all sharp or flats. If it’s right of the white key, it’s sharp. If it’s left o’ it, it’s a flat.”
Viggo blinked.
Sean laughed. “Look,” he said, nudging at him. “This one ‘ere, it’s right of middle C, yeah? It’s middle C sharp, but it’s middle D flat. The same key, jest with different names is all.”
“I know,” Viggo shot back, sounding amused. “I’m not entirely musically inept, you know.”
“Nah, ya jest play an improper instrument,” Sean said flippantly.
Viggo opened his mouth to retort, but he was suddenly interrupted by the phone ringing. He looked at Sean for a moment, confused. It was literally in the middle of the night-the day’s shooting was in a few hours-and no one should be awake yet. He shared a house with Sean, and the two of them had decided that sleeping for two hours was worse than not sleeping at all, which was the only reason why they were both awake.
Sean shrugged at him before he pushed off the piano bench. It was his cell, and he stared at the display.
“It’s Elijah,” he said. He looked at Viggo for a long moment, and Viggo understood. He folded the piano’s lid carefully back down and slipped back into the room he had claimed for his own, closing the door behind him.
He admired Elijah greatly, because the boy was barely eighteen but he had the heaviest schedule and never complained. He was also an Omega, and though Viggo tried his hardest to not judge people by hierarchal stereotypes, there was a very good reason Elijah had Sean’s number on speed dial. Out of the three of them-Sean, Ian and himself-Sean was the safest; after all, he was married. Married or bonded Alphas could always control themselves better in front of Omegas; that much was common sense.
Viggo had barely sat down on his bed, his fingers curled in the air as he tried to memorise the placement of the piano keys without the piano for aid when there was a knock on the door and Sean poked his head in.
“You mind Elijah spendin’ the night ‘ere?”
“No,” Viggo blinked. “Did something happen?”
Sean shrugged, giving him a sheepish smile. Almost involuntarily, Viggo smiled back.
“Looks like ‘e miscalculated the date.”
There was a pause before Viggo connected the dots. When he did, he couldn’t help but swear softly. “Damn,” he said, and pushed himself off the bed. “You think he’ll be safe here?”
“He will, yeah?” Sean raised an eyebrow. “Me door can lock. Or ya got somethin’ ya not tellin’ me?”
“No,” Viggo replied immediately, and he looked almost surprised at himself. “No. There isn’t.”
“Good. ‘Cause I already told ‘im ta come over.”
Sean’s smile widened into a grin. “Good. I’ll take the couch, since ’e’s havin’ me room.”
You can stay in mine, Viggo almost said, but he swallowed the words in time. Where the hell had that come from? He shook his head.
“Looks like we have a plan.”
*
It was less than ten minutes later when there was a loud pounding on the door. Viggo and Sean had relocated back to the living room by then, and Viggo looked up from where he was running his fingers over the keys of the battered old piano. He exchanged a look with Sean before he took a deep breath and nodded.
The first thing he noticed when the door opened was the scent. The scent of an Omega in heat, and Viggo’s fingers involuntarily slammed down on the keys. A discordant note rang out in the air, and he winced.
“Sorry.”
But Elijah didn’t seem to notice it. His pupils were dilated as he stared at Sean, his hand clenching against Sean’s shirt. His lips were red and shiny with spit, and Viggo swallowed back an immediate growl. Elijah wasn’t his, he reminded himself. There was no room for him to feel any sort of jealousy or possessiveness. The thought didn’t help; in fact, it made his instincts surge even higher, and Viggo clenched his hands by his sides, feeling his nails press into flesh.
Sean didn’t even look at him. He had an arm around Elijah by now, holding him close and murmuring softly into his hair, calming him down. Viggo admired his control even as he stumbled backwards from the piano, moving towards the room that Sean had claimed as his own and throwing open the door.
“Thanks, Vig,” Sean said. It was only then that Viggo realised that his voice was hoarse and his nostrils were flaring. Sean looked conflicted as he held Elijah in his arms, his eyes fixed upon Viggo- and it was easy, so very easy, to step forward and pull Elijah into his own embrace. The Omega was pliant as a doll in their hands, pressing his forehead against Viggo’s chest and taking a long, long breath.
“You smell so good,” Elijah whispered, rubbing his face against Viggo’s shirt. “Both of you smell so good.”
Viggo hated this. Hated his body’s reaction; hated the fact that his breath immediately caught and his arms pulled Elijah around himself. Hated that he saw Sean from the corner of his eyes and immediately growled at him, as if telling him to go away, that this Omega was his. Hated the fact that he knew he couldn’t help himself, because unlike Sean, he wasn’t married, and he hadn’t been around an Omega for long enough that they still affected him in ways that he never wanted to be affected.
“Vig,” Sean said, and his hand was warm on Viggo’s neck. “Room’s over there. Ya have ta bring Elijah to the room.”
Room. Right, there was a plan. Immediately he wanted to throw the plan out and just stay here. There was a couch, he could fuck Elijah there. Just like this. Elijah was already wiggling against him, whimpering softly under his breath. He wouldn’t even resist; no Omega resisted when in their heat. He could just shove Elijah down and tear off his clothes with his hands and fuck him. He knew he could.
He knew that right now, he wanted to. Elijah wouldn’t stop him; Elijah would want it. He would respond so eagerly.
But Sean was there. He was right there, a hand on Viggo’s hand, his scent nearly overpowering Elijah’s, and Viggo felt his instincts slowly, slowly retreat. Even though he couldn’t see them, he knew that his pupils were reducing themselves to pinpricks again as he lifted his head and nodded.
“Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse. “Yeah. I- I should.”
Sean kept a hand on him the whole time as he coaxed Elijah off of his feet so he could half-drag, half-carry him into Sean’s room. Once he stepped through the door, the whole place smelled like Sean, and Viggo took a deep inhale before he pulled away from Elijah. He scrubbed his hand over his eyes and watched as their brilliant, beautiful Frodo practically rubbed himself against the sheets.
“Please, Sean,” Elijah whined. He flipped himself over and spread his legs, displaying himself in a way that had Viggo stumbling backwards, his hand making finger-shaped bruises on Sean’s wrist with how hard he had held onto the other Alpha. “Please. Please! I need to- I need to-”
“I need to get out of here,” Viggo blurted. He turned wide eyes to Sean, feeling his blood burn inside his body, rushing southwards. There was no way he could stop himself from taking Elijah right now if he stayed in that room a moment longer, Sean’s presence and scent or not.
Before Sean could answer, he was already out of the house.
*
“Christ,” Sean said.
Viggo was sitting on the steps leading up to the door, leaning against the doorframe. It was the place that was furthese away from Elijah while still remaining near the house. If he strained, he could still hear the Omega’s soft, needy cries- and he tried his best to not hear anything. There was already a small pile of cigarettes at his feet, and Viggo’s hands had just stopped shaking.
He turned around just in time to see Sean drop down next to him, lighting up his own cigarette.
“Yeah,” Viggo said, his head dropped down between his shoulders. He let out a long trail of smoke before taking another drag immediately. “Yeah. That sums it up.”
Sean moved over, their shoulders brushing. Instinctively, Viggo leaned into the touch, and leaned in further when he felt Sean drop his head against his shoulder.
“Sorry ‘bout that.”
“What?” Viggo blinked, and the only reason why he didn’t immediately swing around was because Sean’s head was blocking the way. “What are you apologising for?”
“I invited ‘im over, remember? Didn’t think it would be that bad. Sorry ‘bout that.”
“If you recall, I said yes,” Viggo replied dryly, tossing his cigarette butt on the ground and stubbing it out with his heel.
Sean sighed, lifting his head and moving away a little to take a drag of his own cigarette. Viggo resisted the sudden need to reach out and urge Sean’s head back to its previous position, and listened to the man instead.
“See, uh, usually Elijah gets the time perfect so when I lock ‘im into the room ‘e ain’t in ‘eat yet.”
“You’re serious,” Viggo turned, staring. “I thought you probably had a lot of practice with Elijah, and that’s why you can resist.”
“Nah,” Sean rubbed at his eyes. “That’s all down ta ya.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you,” Sean said, nudging him with his shoulder again. He was grinning widely, and in Viggo’s sudden confusion he hadn’t noticed the slight, wavering edge at the side of Sean’s smile. “Ya smell so good that me instincts got all confused. Don’t know whether ta pounce ya or Elijah.”
Viggo stared at him for a moment before he chuckled, shaking his head. It was a joke, he told himself. It was impossible that Sean was serious; Alphas just didn’t get with Alphas. It was just… strange, no matter what Ian insisted.
He dug into his pocket for another cigarette so he didn’t have to look at Sean, and he lit it up. Using the cover of the smoke, he turned around.
“You nearly got me there, you bastard,” he said around the cancer stick in his mouth. He pulled it away and blew the smoke in Sean’s face, grinning. “That was a good one.”
Sean coughed exaggeratedly, holding a hand around his own throat. Suddenly, Viggo didn’t find it very funny, his eyes fixated on the slim column half-hidden by Sean’s chin. He found his hand lifting, almost reaching out to tilt Sean’s head back so he could lean in and- and what? And kiss that throat? And mark it?
That was ridiculous. There was just no way. Sean wasn’t a Beta or an Omega, and he wasn’t a woman either. Viggo ignored the sudden, insinuating voice in his head that said that he hadn’t even obsessed so much over Exene’s throat, and she was his wife.
“Ya should see yer face,” Sean said. There was something half-hearted in his tone, and Viggo turned to stare at him again. But Sean was bending his head, stubbing his cigarette out on the steps, and when he looked up again he was grinning, punching Viggo on the shoulder again.
Viggo yelped in mock-protest, putting down his own stick before he tackled Sean, pushing him down onto the ground. As they tussled and wrestled like teenage boys, Viggo didn’t even realise that he hadn’t even thought about Elijah ever since Sean came out of the house.
***
Part II
For helena_s_renn, who is also an amazing beta with this.
signal fire has been unlocked, but I'm definitely not crossposting.
the planets bend between us
Characters/Pairing: Sean Bean/Viggo Mortensen, Elijah Wood, Ian McKellen, assorted Lord of the Rings cast
Rating: NC-17
Words: 9180
Disclaimer: The omegaverse doesn’t really exist, so this definitely didn’t happen. This is just the product of my imagination.
Summary: Every story has a beginning that goes before the story itself. Before signal fire, Viggo and Sean fall in love despite expectations in New Zealand. Written for helena_s_renn as she prompted me. All warnings from signal fire apply, and reading that first helps.
Part I
The first meeting Viggo had with Elijah wasn’t one he liked to remember.
He had spent most of his lifetime downplaying his Alpha status. It wasn’t that he didn’t like being an Alpha, because it was a so much part of him that he couldn’t ever imagine not being one, but he had always despised the way people looked at him. With a certain mixture of awe and resentment and fear if they were a Beta; with barely-restrained hostility if they were another Alpha; and if they were an Omega…
The first time he met Elijah, he had closed his fingers around the boy’s throat to hold him still before he shoved his nose into his hair and inhaled. Like Elijah was a particularly delicious dish and he hadn’t eaten in months.
“Hey. Hey, mate, enough!”
There was a hand on his shoulder, dragging him back. Viggo growled under his breath on reflex even as he stumbled backwards, shaking his head hard to try to temper down his instincts. He rubbed at his nose for a moment, lifting his eyes to meet Elijah’s eyes.
There, there it was: the thing he hated most. It was in how Elijah was looking at him now, with dilated pupils and parted lips, his breath coming short. Viggo’s hand twitched at his side and he tangled it at the hem of his shirt, feeling his nails dig into skin. But Elijah wasn’t helping, because he was taking a soft breath, practically whimpering as he leaned forward…
But that hand was reaching forward, grabbing hold of Elijah’s shoulder. Viggo shifted out of the way and saw a man of his height shake Elijah hard, cupping his jaw and tilting his head up.
“C’mon, kid,” he said, and his voice was a beautiful thing, deep and rough, his accent wasn’t one that Viggo could place immediately. “No good fer Frodo ta start lustin’ after the King of Men, yeah? Get yer ‘ead out of 'is neck. He ain’t the first Alpha ya’ve met.”
Elijah shook his head hard, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes. When he blinked, his pupils were back to their usual size. Though his eyes were still huge, Viggo had a feeling that they were that way naturally.
“Sorry,” he offered. “I’m usually not that uncivilised.”
“Nah, the kid jest ‘as that kind of effect on Alphas, even stronger than most Omegas. Even Ian was caught all undignified first time he met ‘im,” the stranger said easily, turning around. He gave Viggo a wide smile even as he ruffled Elijah’s hair hard enough to cause the Omega to stumble forward slightly.
“Name’s Sean Bean. I play Boromir.”
Alpha, Viggo’s mind noted immediately. It was obvious in the way that Sean was standing. But there was no hostility in his smiling eyes; no eyeing of Viggo as if he was a sudden threat. He looked to be the same age, with lines around his eyes, but he was holding his hand out to Viggo as if that didn’t matter, as if there weren’t any possible territory problems that came with two Alphas sharing the same space.
Then Sean said, “I got ta tell ya, though, this whole place’s mine. Mebbe if we move ta a new place I might let ya ‘ave yer own little space, but this one’s mine.” He paused. “The kid’s one of mine too, so no touchin’.”
Viggo blinked. Opened his mouth, then closed it. They stared at each other for a long moment, Viggo gaping like a fish, before Sean threw his head back and laughed.
“You look like a fish. C’mon, I ain’t serious ‘bout that.” He slapped Viggo hard on the shoulder. In Viggo’s experience, even amongst the most open-minded of Alphas, such a touch was taboo at best and a challenge at worst. But Sean was still smiling, and it took him a few moments to realise that it was actually a friendly gesture.
He shook his head again before he punched Sean on the arm, exactly as hard as he had been smacked. Then he held out his hand.
“Viggo Mortensen. I’m your new Aragorn. That means, by the way, that you’re going to have to kneel to me eventually.”
The sudden image made his breath catch, but though Elijah’s eyes suddenly shot to him, Sean only laughed again.
“In yer fuckin’ dreams,” he said, and they shook on it.
Viggo didn’t like remember the first time he met Elijah, no; instead he would rather fast-forward his memories to the time when he first met Sean. It was, he thought, a first meeting that already heralded a great many things.
***
Bob Anderson might be a Beta, but Viggo had never had his ass kicked so thoroughly by one person before. He had never been marked with so many bruises either, but he suspected that went along with the ‘ass-kicking’.
He was alone for only a few minutes before Sean plopped down to sit next to him. He stretched his arms out behind his back, leaning against them as he let his head drop backwards into a soft, low sigh.
“Ya know,” Sean started, glancing at Viggo. “Fer some reason ya seem ta take being beaten up by a Beta really well.”
Viggo snorted, shrugging slightly. There was a part of him that wanted to protest, to say that hierarchy had nothing to do with a person’s physical strength- but that was utter nonsense. Besides, he could recognise that Sean was teasing.
“I’m pretty certain that Betas are the ones who invented weapons,” he said instead, grinning slightly. “You know, since the Alphas and Omegas are so busy fucking each other. So Bob is really in his element.”
Sean threw his head back and laughed, hearty and loud. In the same second, the sun came out from behind the clouds, and its light glinted off of Sean’s hair. Viggo’s breath hitched and his hand suddenly clenched tight at his side. His heart squeezed, choking his breath in his throat, and he wanted.
Then Sean stopped laughing, shaking his head. The sun was still out, but the sudden aching need of the moment was gone. Viggo ducked his head down and rubbed at his eyes, belatedly realising that he was probably getting blood all over his face from his knuckles.
“Hey,” Sean said, and he shifted in his seat a little. He reached out and took Viggo’s hands into his own, looking at the scabs. “What the hell did ya do ta yer ‘ands?”
Viggo shrugged, looking at the scabs and bruises that dotted his hands. There was one particularly long one stretching from the last knuckle of the middle finger all the way down to his wrist. He poked at it.
“Sword practice,” he answered, and gave Sean a lopsided smile.
“Yer supposed ta ask them ta pull their punches, ya know,” Sean said wryly, his hands still on Viggo’s. “Not just let them smack ya.”
Viggo snorted. “You know as well as I that a lot of the stunt guys are Alphas,” he said, and for some reason, he didn’t want to pull his hand back. “When have you ever heard of Alphas pulling punches? I’m just happy that our prop swords are pretty light.”
“Shame on you, Mister Mortensen, fer perpetuatin’ hierarchal stereotypes.”
Viggo froze for a moment. It was odd, because there was something obviously challenging about Sean’s words even though there was none of it in his tone. His instincts should have flared immediately, like a fire scraping against his throat, but his mind was completely quiet. He wasn’t tense either, like he was merely having a conversation with one of his Beta friends, completely secure that whatever that was being said wasn’t ammunition against him in a battle for territory or position.
Instead of tension there was only a mild sense of amusement and an overwhelming affection for the man sitting next to him. That was odd too, because it was almost unheard of for Alphas to befriend each other, especially if they were of an age. Even Viggo wasn’t entirely immune to that, even though he had married an Alpha.
He dismissed the thought in favour of leaning over and nudging Sean on the shoulder, laughing.
“I learned from the best, Mister Sean Bean,” he teased.
But his mind was only half on the conversation. He was frowning mentally, trying to understand his own reactions to Sean. It was almost a relief when Bob called them away to do their jobs.
***
Viggo dropped his bags on the ground and tossed the car key over to the nearest flat surface. It just happened to be the shoe cabinet. The metal made a clattering sound over the wood, but he was already ignoring it, turning around.
Right behind him, Sean locked the motel room door, chuckling softly.
“Did ya see that receptionist’s face?” he threw at Viggo. “’e looked like he was going ta ‘ave a ‘eart attack.”
“Most Alphas don’t ask for double-bed rooms, no,” Viggo replied. He was already grinning as he punched Sean against the arm. “You could tell that he was wondering if he would have to call the police later on to report a double homicide or something.”
They had just travelled across the breadth of the North Island down to the South Island, just the two of them, the beautiful scenery, and a car. Everyone had given them shocked looks when they'd told them what they were going to do with the filming break, but Ian had only waved a hand at their concerns and shook his head pointedly at their use of stereotypes, which shut everyone up before Viggo could even speak.
Viggo kept thinking that he should feel some sort of hostility towards Sean, especially in such small spaces. Yet it was just the opposite. He wanted to get even closer to Sean, to press himself against him, skin to skin. It was a ridiculous thought, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Sean felt the same. After all, he hadn’t pushed Viggo away yet, had he?
“The ‘ell are ya standin’ there fer?”
Sean had draped himself over one of the beds, spreading himself all over the sheets. The linen was clean and white, and Viggo’s breath caught at the sight of Sean’s spread legs and he stumbled forward, his hand raised-
“Vig? You alright?” Sean sat up, and Viggo snapped out of the mild trance he had sunk into. He took a sharp, deep breath through his teeth and shook his head hard, rubbing at his eyes. He had no idea what had just happened. He had wanted… wanted to sink to his knees and expose his throat, and at the same time he wanted to shove Sean down the bed and bite down on him, to mark him as his.
Sean had stood up by now, and Viggo let out a strangled groan when he felt Sean’s hand on his arm. The equilibrium of his world tilted slightly, and only the barest thread of self-control stopped him from reaching forward and shoving Sean’s face into his own neck- or to throw himself into Sean’s arms and let his scent mark him from inside out. This didn’t make any sense, and Viggo knew that he had to stop this. Stop it before the two of them did something they regretted.
He looked up, and the sight that met him made his limbs lock up again. Sean had stilled completely, his lips parted and nostrils flaring. Every breath he took was like a small, warm breeze on Viggo’s skin. Viggo couldn’t help but lean in, just a little, breathing in his exhalation, feeling the warmth seep inside him. Their eyes were fixed upon each other’s throat.
Viggo just had to lean in. A few more inches and he would have that skin, that scent, and he could mark Sean.
But Sean was an Alpha; Sean was an Alpha male; Sean was still married. Viggo’s arm trembled under Sean’s grip as he tried to convince his body to pull away. Not even with Exene had this been so confusing. His gaze was fixated on Sean’s throat. If he looked closer, just a little closer, he would be able to see the trembling of the pulse beneath the skin.
“We-” there was a sudden movement in that long column. Sound. Viggo jerked hard, almost physically ripping his eyes away from Sean’s throat to find his face again. He was panting as if he had just run a marathon, his breaths shallow.
Sean let go of his arm as if he was made of fire, using that hand to rub against his nose and mouth. He coughed hard. There was a blush pinking his cheeks. Viggo wanted to reach out and feel the heat against his fingers. He wanted to just… feel him; feel his heartbeat, so his own could align to his.
He swallowed instead, shaking his head hard and looking at he ground. “I think I’m tired,” he said. It was an immense effort to keep his voice steady. “We better get to sleep.”
“Yeah,” Sean said, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat and rubbed a hand through his own hair. “Yeah, we should. Long day tomorrow.”
“Long day,” Viggo echoed. They looked at each other for a moment. There was nothing but awkward silence for a long moment before Sean sighed, giving Viggo a lopsided smile.Viggo could only laugh sheepishly, ducking his head down and digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.
They were just tired. What happened was a fluke.
After all, who had ever heard of male Alphas who wanted to claim each other?
***
Sean’s eyes were on him as Viggo’s fingers skittered over the piano keys. He didn’t know how to play, not really-he could play the guitar, and that helped, but Sean had been trying to teach him how to play the piano lately. Right now they were still at the stage where Viggo was trying to memorise the placement of the keys.
“No,” Sean said. He nudged Viggo over and dropped onto the bench-Viggo ignored that insistent little voice that told him to lean over and take a long inhale of Sean’s scent-before he splayed out his hands on the keys. “Ya put yer thumb on the middle C, not the forefinger. Forefinger goes ta D, then the rest of yer fingers jest follow that.” He placed his hand over Viggo’s and finger-walked with him over the keys until their fingers rested over the keys from the middle C all the way to G.
“Thumb always starts from middle C,” and Sean reached over and batted Viggo’s left hand off of the keys. “Put yer left ‘and on yer lap if ya don’t need it. We ain’t playin’ anythin’ yet, yeah? Lap.”
Viggo barely resisted the urge to drop his hand to Sean’s lap. Instead, he only grinned, bumping against Sean’s shoulder.
“Alright,” he said. He pressed down with his thumb, and pressed the keys slowly towards his right. “Middle C, D, E, F, G.” He looked at Sean before he shook his head, chuckling. “I think you’re getting the easier deal. A guitar’s much simpler. What am I supposed to do with the black keys?”
“Black keys’re kind of complicated,” Sean grinned a little and shoved him over the bench a little. “They’re all sharp or flats. If it’s right of the white key, it’s sharp. If it’s left o’ it, it’s a flat.”
Viggo blinked.
Sean laughed. “Look,” he said, nudging at him. “This one ‘ere, it’s right of middle C, yeah? It’s middle C sharp, but it’s middle D flat. The same key, jest with different names is all.”
“I know,” Viggo shot back, sounding amused. “I’m not entirely musically inept, you know.”
“Nah, ya jest play an improper instrument,” Sean said flippantly.
Viggo opened his mouth to retort, but he was suddenly interrupted by the phone ringing. He looked at Sean for a moment, confused. It was literally in the middle of the night-the day’s shooting was in a few hours-and no one should be awake yet. He shared a house with Sean, and the two of them had decided that sleeping for two hours was worse than not sleeping at all, which was the only reason why they were both awake.
Sean shrugged at him before he pushed off the piano bench. It was his cell, and he stared at the display.
“It’s Elijah,” he said. He looked at Viggo for a long moment, and Viggo understood. He folded the piano’s lid carefully back down and slipped back into the room he had claimed for his own, closing the door behind him.
He admired Elijah greatly, because the boy was barely eighteen but he had the heaviest schedule and never complained. He was also an Omega, and though Viggo tried his hardest to not judge people by hierarchal stereotypes, there was a very good reason Elijah had Sean’s number on speed dial. Out of the three of them-Sean, Ian and himself-Sean was the safest; after all, he was married. Married or bonded Alphas could always control themselves better in front of Omegas; that much was common sense.
Viggo had barely sat down on his bed, his fingers curled in the air as he tried to memorise the placement of the piano keys without the piano for aid when there was a knock on the door and Sean poked his head in.
“You mind Elijah spendin’ the night ‘ere?”
“No,” Viggo blinked. “Did something happen?”
Sean shrugged, giving him a sheepish smile. Almost involuntarily, Viggo smiled back.
“Looks like ‘e miscalculated the date.”
There was a pause before Viggo connected the dots. When he did, he couldn’t help but swear softly. “Damn,” he said, and pushed himself off the bed. “You think he’ll be safe here?”
“He will, yeah?” Sean raised an eyebrow. “Me door can lock. Or ya got somethin’ ya not tellin’ me?”
“No,” Viggo replied immediately, and he looked almost surprised at himself. “No. There isn’t.”
“Good. ‘Cause I already told ‘im ta come over.”
Sean’s smile widened into a grin. “Good. I’ll take the couch, since ’e’s havin’ me room.”
You can stay in mine, Viggo almost said, but he swallowed the words in time. Where the hell had that come from? He shook his head.
“Looks like we have a plan.”
*
It was less than ten minutes later when there was a loud pounding on the door. Viggo and Sean had relocated back to the living room by then, and Viggo looked up from where he was running his fingers over the keys of the battered old piano. He exchanged a look with Sean before he took a deep breath and nodded.
The first thing he noticed when the door opened was the scent. The scent of an Omega in heat, and Viggo’s fingers involuntarily slammed down on the keys. A discordant note rang out in the air, and he winced.
“Sorry.”
But Elijah didn’t seem to notice it. His pupils were dilated as he stared at Sean, his hand clenching against Sean’s shirt. His lips were red and shiny with spit, and Viggo swallowed back an immediate growl. Elijah wasn’t his, he reminded himself. There was no room for him to feel any sort of jealousy or possessiveness. The thought didn’t help; in fact, it made his instincts surge even higher, and Viggo clenched his hands by his sides, feeling his nails press into flesh.
Sean didn’t even look at him. He had an arm around Elijah by now, holding him close and murmuring softly into his hair, calming him down. Viggo admired his control even as he stumbled backwards from the piano, moving towards the room that Sean had claimed as his own and throwing open the door.
“Thanks, Vig,” Sean said. It was only then that Viggo realised that his voice was hoarse and his nostrils were flaring. Sean looked conflicted as he held Elijah in his arms, his eyes fixed upon Viggo- and it was easy, so very easy, to step forward and pull Elijah into his own embrace. The Omega was pliant as a doll in their hands, pressing his forehead against Viggo’s chest and taking a long, long breath.
“You smell so good,” Elijah whispered, rubbing his face against Viggo’s shirt. “Both of you smell so good.”
Viggo hated this. Hated his body’s reaction; hated the fact that his breath immediately caught and his arms pulled Elijah around himself. Hated that he saw Sean from the corner of his eyes and immediately growled at him, as if telling him to go away, that this Omega was his. Hated the fact that he knew he couldn’t help himself, because unlike Sean, he wasn’t married, and he hadn’t been around an Omega for long enough that they still affected him in ways that he never wanted to be affected.
“Vig,” Sean said, and his hand was warm on Viggo’s neck. “Room’s over there. Ya have ta bring Elijah to the room.”
Room. Right, there was a plan. Immediately he wanted to throw the plan out and just stay here. There was a couch, he could fuck Elijah there. Just like this. Elijah was already wiggling against him, whimpering softly under his breath. He wouldn’t even resist; no Omega resisted when in their heat. He could just shove Elijah down and tear off his clothes with his hands and fuck him. He knew he could.
He knew that right now, he wanted to. Elijah wouldn’t stop him; Elijah would want it. He would respond so eagerly.
But Sean was there. He was right there, a hand on Viggo’s hand, his scent nearly overpowering Elijah’s, and Viggo felt his instincts slowly, slowly retreat. Even though he couldn’t see them, he knew that his pupils were reducing themselves to pinpricks again as he lifted his head and nodded.
“Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse. “Yeah. I- I should.”
Sean kept a hand on him the whole time as he coaxed Elijah off of his feet so he could half-drag, half-carry him into Sean’s room. Once he stepped through the door, the whole place smelled like Sean, and Viggo took a deep inhale before he pulled away from Elijah. He scrubbed his hand over his eyes and watched as their brilliant, beautiful Frodo practically rubbed himself against the sheets.
“Please, Sean,” Elijah whined. He flipped himself over and spread his legs, displaying himself in a way that had Viggo stumbling backwards, his hand making finger-shaped bruises on Sean’s wrist with how hard he had held onto the other Alpha. “Please. Please! I need to- I need to-”
“I need to get out of here,” Viggo blurted. He turned wide eyes to Sean, feeling his blood burn inside his body, rushing southwards. There was no way he could stop himself from taking Elijah right now if he stayed in that room a moment longer, Sean’s presence and scent or not.
Before Sean could answer, he was already out of the house.
*
“Christ,” Sean said.
Viggo was sitting on the steps leading up to the door, leaning against the doorframe. It was the place that was furthese away from Elijah while still remaining near the house. If he strained, he could still hear the Omega’s soft, needy cries- and he tried his best to not hear anything. There was already a small pile of cigarettes at his feet, and Viggo’s hands had just stopped shaking.
He turned around just in time to see Sean drop down next to him, lighting up his own cigarette.
“Yeah,” Viggo said, his head dropped down between his shoulders. He let out a long trail of smoke before taking another drag immediately. “Yeah. That sums it up.”
Sean moved over, their shoulders brushing. Instinctively, Viggo leaned into the touch, and leaned in further when he felt Sean drop his head against his shoulder.
“Sorry ‘bout that.”
“What?” Viggo blinked, and the only reason why he didn’t immediately swing around was because Sean’s head was blocking the way. “What are you apologising for?”
“I invited ‘im over, remember? Didn’t think it would be that bad. Sorry ‘bout that.”
“If you recall, I said yes,” Viggo replied dryly, tossing his cigarette butt on the ground and stubbing it out with his heel.
Sean sighed, lifting his head and moving away a little to take a drag of his own cigarette. Viggo resisted the sudden need to reach out and urge Sean’s head back to its previous position, and listened to the man instead.
“See, uh, usually Elijah gets the time perfect so when I lock ‘im into the room ‘e ain’t in ‘eat yet.”
“You’re serious,” Viggo turned, staring. “I thought you probably had a lot of practice with Elijah, and that’s why you can resist.”
“Nah,” Sean rubbed at his eyes. “That’s all down ta ya.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you,” Sean said, nudging him with his shoulder again. He was grinning widely, and in Viggo’s sudden confusion he hadn’t noticed the slight, wavering edge at the side of Sean’s smile. “Ya smell so good that me instincts got all confused. Don’t know whether ta pounce ya or Elijah.”
Viggo stared at him for a moment before he chuckled, shaking his head. It was a joke, he told himself. It was impossible that Sean was serious; Alphas just didn’t get with Alphas. It was just… strange, no matter what Ian insisted.
He dug into his pocket for another cigarette so he didn’t have to look at Sean, and he lit it up. Using the cover of the smoke, he turned around.
“You nearly got me there, you bastard,” he said around the cancer stick in his mouth. He pulled it away and blew the smoke in Sean’s face, grinning. “That was a good one.”
Sean coughed exaggeratedly, holding a hand around his own throat. Suddenly, Viggo didn’t find it very funny, his eyes fixated on the slim column half-hidden by Sean’s chin. He found his hand lifting, almost reaching out to tilt Sean’s head back so he could lean in and- and what? And kiss that throat? And mark it?
That was ridiculous. There was just no way. Sean wasn’t a Beta or an Omega, and he wasn’t a woman either. Viggo ignored the sudden, insinuating voice in his head that said that he hadn’t even obsessed so much over Exene’s throat, and she was his wife.
“Ya should see yer face,” Sean said. There was something half-hearted in his tone, and Viggo turned to stare at him again. But Sean was bending his head, stubbing his cigarette out on the steps, and when he looked up again he was grinning, punching Viggo on the shoulder again.
Viggo yelped in mock-protest, putting down his own stick before he tackled Sean, pushing him down onto the ground. As they tussled and wrestled like teenage boys, Viggo didn’t even realise that he hadn’t even thought about Elijah ever since Sean came out of the house.
***
Part II