Drumroll, please
Well, I've finally let go and just put it out there!! This is slash, just to warn all of you non-slashy types of friends!
Title: Trust
Pairing: VM/SB
Author: shrinetolust
Series: Part of a much larger fic, with a VigOrliBean to follow, hopefully....
Rated: NC-17 Totally. Completely.
Story: Porn with plot; Sean can't resist the lure of Viggo.
Disclaimer: Don't know these lovely men, don't know what they get up to in their free time. This is all part of my overactive lustful imagination, done with love, and no harm or offense is intended. It's FICTION!!
Feedback: Yes please. Pretty please, with Sean on top. :P Leave a note here or mail me at shrinetolust AT hotmail.com
Crossposted: Oh, everywhere. I am a feedback whore.
Archive: rugbytackle, my own LJ. Others, please ask.
Beta: I needed lots of help!! Thanks SO much to the talented and lovely sheldrake and quailquill for beta, and to milochka for late-night readthroughs and handholding. And thanks to karelian for pep talk and advice, even though I didn't take all of it. *G* Bless you all!!
Notes: Please be kind--first-ever RPS and only second-ever slash!
Warnings: A wee bit o' bondage
That was the smile, that was the one that had made him come undone, that day. That day in Viggo's apartment, when they were joking around and Sean shoved him, and then Viggo shoved him back, harder. And Viggo's eyes narrowed and his muscles flexed, and he looked ready, ready for a real fight.
And it wasn't like Sean to back down from a challenge. So he pushed Viggo so hard Viggo slammed into the wall. And when he hit the wall he made this little noise, this choked little cry mingled with a husky sigh, and he smiled at Sean in a way Sean had never been smiled at before.
And he didn't quite know what to do, his adrenaline racing, his competitive urges filling him inside, making his breathing quicken...all this mingling with a sudden realization that he was turned on, and concern that maybe he had hurt his friend, and concern that maybe that was why he was turned on.
But Viggo lunged at him, then, hitting him square in the chest and knocking them both to the ground. And when Viggo was on top of him, laughing, his eyes bright and fiery and a little crazy, Sean realized it wasn't the hurt. It was the throwing Vig around that he was craving, the physical contact, the hearts beating, heavy breathing.
"Did I hurt you?" he heard himself ask, feeling weak for confessing to his worry, but not being able to hold it back.
"Nah, it'll take more than that," came the gravelly reply. Viggo lifted his hands up in the air and he gazed off through them. "There's always this perfect moment, the moment of flying through the air, that moment of pure freedom from control, that moment of pure destiny." He turned back, eyes still wild. "I love that."
So Sean gave him another moment of freedom, grabbing him by the ribcage and lifting him, his muscles straining as he gave him a little pitch and tossed Viggo off to the side, then quickly rolled over and got on top of him. Viggo was laughing, then, or trying to, anyway...with the wind knocked out of him it sounded more like wheezing.
"How's that for destiny?" Sean asked.
More wheezing, then Viggo struggled, but he was no match for Sean without the element of surprise. Sean was able to grasp one wrist and one wiry forearm, and he pinned them to the floor.
And Sean made a noise of triumph, grinning down at Viggo, his breath faster but not as labored as the man under him, who was still fighting to get his lungs filled back up.
"Well, you've got me--" Viggo's voice strained-- "What are you--gonna do with me?"
"It sounds like you need fuckin' CPR," Sean joked, but then his eyes drifted down to Viggo's parted lips, the air rushing in and out of them, and then there was a sudden awareness that the body underneath him was hard, hip bones digging into him, but something in between them was pressing him as well, and before he knew what the hell he was doing his mouth was over Viggo's.
That was the first time he'd ever kissed a man. He vaguely remembered a few handjobs...hell, when you're pissed and bitter and horny, sometimes anyone's hand will do. And Sean had been something of a pretty boy when he was young...he'd had enough offers, that was for sure, and once in awhile, blind drunk and propositioned in the loo, well, what the hell.
But no kissing, no sucking, no fucking. Had never even occurred to him. Had never even been a consideration, fantasy, stray thought. But Viggo, damn him, something in Viggo had just plucked a string inside of him, sending this resonating horniness and utter thirst for possession all through him.
Maybe fucking it up with three women had left him burnt on the idea of girls for a while, he didn't know. At that moment he didn't care, all that mattered was getting his tongue inside Viggo's mouth.
Viggo shuddered underneath him, and then struggled, which was fruitless considering Sean's dominant position, the full weight of his body keeping his captive in place. But he shifted just a little, and one of Viggo's hands slipped free of his grasp, and plunged down between them.
That was going a little faster than Sean had expected, and he wasn't sure what to do as Viggo's hand pushed past his stomach, past his waistband, down to his now rock-hard cock. He grunted at the contact, but then Viggo's fingers went past that, too, to curve around his balls, and squeeze. Hard. And then harder.
Sean broke free of his crushing kiss and yelled out in pain and surprise. Viggo stared angrily up at him, panting heavily, rasping, "I couldn't-- fuckin'--breathe, dammit!"
Sean rolled off of him, grimacing as he reached down and gingerly rubbed himself. "Well I won't be able to have any more children, now, thanks so much!"
"Well I hope--" Viggo coughed heartily-- "you weren't planning on getting me pregnant."
"I should think you'd like that," Sean sneered. "You could add another life experience to your list of accomplishments...think how many poems you could write about it. You could photograph every stage of your growing belly, and make a collage out of it, in black and white, of course, for emotional and aesthetic resonance."
Viggo's eyes widened in surprise, but then gradually his skin crinkled and his mouth split into a grin. He cackled hoarsely, his breathing finally leveling into more normally paced bursts.
And Sean laughed then, too, and could feel his face get red. He hated that, hated the flush that would crawl over his skin. Always made him feel like such a girl.
Viggo sat up, rubbing his chest. "You are somethin' else," he chuckled. "You can say the most appalling shit without batting an eyelash, but then five seconds later you get all embarrassed and have that 'ohh, did I say something bad?' look."
"I do not," Sean protested, feeling himself getting even redder.
Viggo's grin widened. "So what's the deal, Bean? You fuckin' with me, trying to fuck me up, fuck me over, or..." and he leaned over, his face inches from Sean's, "or do you just wanna fuck?"
Sean's cheeks started to burn, and his mind raced, but he was unable to find any sort of clever remark to come back with. And so he was stuck with the truth. "I don't know."
Viggo's expression softened, then, and his eyes drifted to Sean's lips, and he moved in closer. "Okay," he whispered, and he pressed his mouth to Sean's.
Sean couldn't help a small moan that vibrated in the back of his throat. Vig was in control this time, and his mouth was hot, and soft...softer than Sean had expected it to be. But then there was the bristle of facial hair, the insistent probing of that long and agile tongue, and the small nips with teeth until his own mouth felt fucked and swollen.
"I wasn't sure about you." The words were exhaled against his lips, warm air against wet, ravaged flesh.
"I'm not sure about me," Sean replied gruffly, looking into Viggo's intensely blue eyes. There was such confidence there, such easy sensuality in his whole expression. "Somehow I feel you know better than I do."
Viggo kissed him again, just a quick rub of the lips, before leaning back, bracing himself up on one hand. With the other he started unbuttoning his shirt. His mouth twisted into a smirk. "Well, there's only one way to find out now, isn't there?"
Sean swallowed and felt all his muscles tighten. He didn't move, couldn't move. He just watched. Watched Viggo's hand, strong fingers flipping open buttons, exposing chest, soft hair over taut, tan skin.
Viggo slid his legs under him and got to his feet. He let the shirt fall from his shoulders and when it floated to the ground, he kicked it away with his bare foot. As his eyes locked with Sean's, he leaned forward, grasped the waistband of his sweatpants, and yanked them down.
Within seconds they were punted in the direction of the shirt, and Viggo stood there completely naked, shoulders thrust back, body arched seductively, sweat glistening at his neck, chest, and down his sides. He held both arms out slightly, palms forward, looking down at Sean. "This is the moment," he said quietly, gravelly voice roughing the edges of his words.
Sean had his head tilted up to focus on Viggo's face, but his eyes couldn't help wandering to that sinewy, slick body, couldn't help noticing the prominent evidence of his friend's desire. "Moment of pure destiny, I suppose," he said with a teasing lilt, though his voice shook. "The moment I fly through the air."
Viggo smiled. "Or fly through that door. Your choice."
"You know I don't like flying." Sean could feel himself trembling a little, his whole body so keenly, so painfully aware of Viggo's nearness. Of his nakedness. "I prefer to climb."
And then Viggo's smile deepened, one side of his lips crawling higher, revealing a hint of teeth. "So climb."
Sean's heart skipped a beat and he felt the sweat begin to run between his shoulder blades. His cock was aching, straining against his pants, but the rest of his body remained frozen. Part of him wanted so desperately to touch Viggo, to grab him, to hold him, but something was keeping him back. Some fear, some uncertainty--
And then Viggo was saying his name, long fingers curving up towards his palms in a beckoning gesture. "Come on," he almost whispered. "Take what you want, Sean."
And Sean broke free. Tore his gaze from Viggo's eyes and let it drift down to that tight, wiry frame. He reached out a hand, reached out and curled his fingers around Viggo's left thigh, his palm pressing against damp, heated flesh.
Viggo quivered under his touch, which stirred Sean's desire more. His left hand came up to grip Viggo's other leg, and he let his thumb caress the tender skin of the inner thigh before digging in possessively.
Viggo exhaled sharply and Sean looked up at him. Feeling his cheeks burning again, he hoisted himself up, fingers clawing at flesh as he let his body roughly slide up against Viggo's erection. Viggo made a small guttural noise and then grabbed him and held him close.
Sean let Viggo have his mouth again, let him plunder and taste and bite until they were both breathless. He let his own hands wander as far as they would reach, fingers kneading the muscular shoulders, nails scraping down the lean back, arms tightening around the narrow waist.
Viggo melted into his grasp, his naked body curved against Sean's fully clothed one, the sigh with the little hitch in it escaping his lips every time Sean dug into a sensitive curve or stretch of flesh.
Sean wanted Viggo very badly. But he wasn't sure, exactly, what that meant. Had the idea, of course, but the execution--he just wasn't sure. His stomach knotted considerably. Hey, Vig, since we're best mates and all that, would you mind leaning over that table so I can fuck you in the arse? He shivered. It was just too foreign, too bloody strange.
But his whole body was straining, his arms and hands and mouth and cock...all straining towards Viggo, wanting to take him, consume him, own him.
Viggo seemed to sense his urgency, and his hands slid under Sean's shirt, rough fingers scraping sensitized flesh. He raised his arms, stretching, pulling the fabric of the shirt until Sean relented and let him tug it over his head. It ended up near the pile of Viggo's discarded clothes.
Then Viggo looked directly into Sean's eyes, biting his own bottom lip and looking mischievous and eager. He unbuckled Sean's belt and slid it out of the loops. He stretched it out between his hands and looked at it, then back at Sean. "Feel free to use this however you want," he said teasingly, before tossing it to the side.
Sean made a little noise, low in his throat. Hadn't expected that. He smiled a little hesitantly. "Your expectations are a bit high, aren't they? You do realize I've never--"
Viggo leaned in, body curved, head low so he could look up at Sean seductively. "I can recognize a horny fucking bastard when I see one. I have faith in you."
Sean grabbed him and pulled him forward, biting into his neck and tasting the salty, smooth skin. Viggo slithered in and out of his range, softly laughing as his fingers worked to undo Sean's trousers.
And then Vig's hands were on him, holding him, stroking him, cupping him. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Viggo's throat, his breath coming heavy now. "Not so much," he panted, not wanting it to all end abruptly. "I want to--" but he couldn't finish the statement, and his cheeks were getting red again.
Viggo slowed down, his fingers gently curling around Sean's cock and holding him, arm locked between their bodies. He exhaled quietly, air gently stirring Sean's fine hair. His voice was low as he spoke. "I don't have to worry about anything, do I?" he asked.
Sean didn't know quite what that meant. Worry? He pulled back and looked into Viggo's eyes. Why would he worry? And then Sean thought about where Vig's hand was and what they might get up to and he quickly answered, "No! Nothing. Nothing at all."
Viggo held his gaze. "I know we talked about it last month, but--" he smiled, his eyes glittering-- "a month is a long time in the life of a sex symbol."
Sean snorted and he could feel the cursed heat in his cheeks again. "You know me better than that."
"I trust you," Viggo said levelly, his fingers ever so subtly driving Sean to madness. "Do you trust me?"
He didn't even have to ask. To know Viggo was to trust Viggo. That was the one thing you knew about him for sure. "Hell yeah," he answered, his voice a bit unsteady.
Viggo's smile deepened and then he kissed Sean again, a tender, gentle kiss.
And then Sean remembered that they had discussed it last month. On location, too, in costume, with people milling about, while they talked in low voices about past fucks. In great detail, as a matter of fact. In such detail that he had started to squirm, if he remembered correctly. "Hey," he said, pulling away from Viggo's lips. "Why did we talk about that last month? I thought you said you weren't sure about--"
"A man can always hope," Viggo cut in. And then he dipped his head and licked Sean's neck from the base of his throat all the way to his chin, his eyes warming with the sound of Sean's responsive moan. He let the tip of his tongue curl against his teeth a moment before continuing, "and fuck if I didn't really hope when it came to you."
Sean grinned, embarrassed. Willed his heart to stop beating so fucking fast. Tried to deflect. "I wonder how many others you had that little chat with? Orlando, of course. I'm sure he was sitting in your lap at the time."
Viggo's eyebrows arched. "Really, the Elf boy? Why did you choose him? Would you like that?" His hand gripped Sean's cock a bit tighter. "To fuck Orlando, I mean?"
"For fuck's sake, Viggo," Sean sputtered, wondering what shade of red he'd got up to by now. "One bloke at a time, eh?" He leaned forward and bumped their foreheads together. "Can we focus, please?".
"Oh trust me, I'm gonna focus," Viggo assured him, giving him a good long stroke and sighing when Sean shuddered in response. "I get the feeling," he said, his tone suddenly changed, his eyes melting into Sean's, "that the only way this is goin' down is you fucking me, rather than the other way around."
Sean felt his stomach tighten and then flip. "Oh yeah. That's the only way, really." He hadn't even thought about it. Had just assumed.
Viggo didn't blink. "Yeah, I didn't really figure you for a bottom."
And Sean finally thought about it. "You either."
"Yeah, well..." Viggo released Sean's cock and then stepped back. "I can be flexible."
"I hope so," Sean teased, though he was aching at the loss of Viggo's touch.
Viggo smiled again, that smile that had done Sean in. "But only for the right kind of man. I'm counting on you, Sean." And with that he scratched his fingernails down Sean's chest. "I'm counting on you to be that kind of man."
And Sean swallowed, hard, and felt his heart pounding in his chest. And felt a little dizzy, even. And couldn't think of a response.
Viggo laughed, then walked away from him. "Be right back," he said. "The stuff's in the bathroom."
Sean watched him move away, bare feet soft on the carpet. He realized then how gracefully Viggo moved, seeing him naked like that, watching the sinewy muscles ripple in succession with each step--his limbs moved so fluidly, evenly, his feet touched the ground silently, his shoulders rolled sensually. There was nothing awkward or rough about him at all. He just flowed.
Viggo was gone barely a minute or two. Not long at all, but long enough for Sean to start thinking. To start being aware. Aware of where he was, what he was doing. What he was about to do, and with whom.
He felt incredibly exposed all of a sudden. Shirtless, trousers open, cock jutting lewdly out the front. In the center of Viggo's apartment. And where was Viggo? In the bathroom. Naked.
It was all so surreal.
Not that he didn't want it. Not that he could pretend it was so shocking, either. No, he'd had to face it long ago that he sometimes looked at men with what amounted to more than friendly interest. Not many men, but some. And Vig had been one of them--was one of them.
So no, he couldn't pretend to be straight-as-an-arrow Bean, 'cause that would just be bullshit. But he could admit to never having done this kind of thing before. Never having confessed to this need, this want--to giving himself over like this. And with a friend, a good mate, someone who knew him. Maybe knew him better than he knew himself.
Viggo came back. Sauntered over, graceful as before, cock still just as hard. Moved close, kissed Sean on the mouth. Held his hands up to show where he'd been. Condom in one hand, lube in the other.
Sean blushed and then looked at the condom, a little confused. Thought they had said that--
"You let a guy do you bareback on the first date," Viggo interrupted his thoughts, "the first thing he starts to wonder is how many other guys did you do that with?" He kissed Sean again, and then pulled back just enough so Sean could see his eyes clearly. "I don't want you to wonder."
And Sean understood, but it was getting so intense, and he had to let his eyes drop, and look at the carpet.
Viggo's voice was soft and understanding. "Things getting a little weird for you?"
"A bit, yeah," Sean replied, but then he sensed Viggo might move away and he reached out and touched Viggo's hip, his long fingers skating delicately across silky skin.
"Do you want to stop?" Viggo's flesh trembled under Sean's touch, belying his calm tone.
"No." And Sean forced himself to look up, to meet the longing look in those potent eyes.
Viggo gazed at him for a few moments, then seemed to see what he was looking for. "Well, maybe I can help you relax," he said quietly, in barely more than a whisper.
He moved forward and kissed Sean, on the mouth, on the cheek, jaw, and neck. Then his lips and tongue worked together, sliding down, down Sean's body, snaking around and leaving wet patterns all across his skin.
Sean moaned at the tingling sensations coursing through his body, and his fingers again wound into Viggo's hair. He held his breath as Viggo dropped to his knees, then yanked Sean's trousers and boxers down to his ankles. And then he took Sean into his mouth.
Sean gasped and then stared, stared at him in wonder, watching as this gorgeous man's lips slid up and down the length of him, tongue slipping out here and there to tease him. And then the hands came up, caressing him and stroking him and essentially doing whatever it took to make him completely lose his mind.
Now he was definitely going to fall over. Ankles locked by his dropped clothes, body shaking with desire, he didn't think he could stand like this much longer. "Vig," he breathed, trying to pull back. "Vig, hang on a minute."
Viggo responded to the gentle tug on his hair and leaned back. "What is it?"
Sean couldn't help grinning like an idiot, his body flushed and warm from Viggo's attentions. "I'm off-kilter, like. I'm gonna fall over and hit me head and that'll be the end of this."
Viggo grinned back. "Well if you were unconscious, then I'd get to fuck you." But he helped Sean step out of his clothes and moved them out of the way.
"Cheeky bastard," Sean admonished.
Viggo gazed up at him, eyes filled with mirth as well as passion, and leaned forward again to put his mouth around Sean, never breaking eye contact.
Sean felt a jolt of pleasure go through his body. It was too much, too wonderful, more than he had ever expected. More than he'd ever thought would happen. His fingers curled into Viggo's hair again, and he found himself thrusting slightly, forcing himself to the back of Viggo's throat.
Which made him almost lose it right then and there. He threw his head back and groaned loudly, riding the waves of sensation but forcing himself not to let go. He didn't want it to end just yet. He wanted more. More of Viggo. More of this, this incredible feeling.
And then, suddenly, it was different.
His eyes flew open, staring up at the ceiling, body unexpectedly tense as cool, slick fingers started sliding up the cleft of his arse. Viggo's lips were still wrapped around his cock, still moving, still sucking, so he found it difficult to form any words of protest. He could only wait, breath coming heavy, until his entire body grew rigid and his breathing caught in his throat.
Viggo's finger had been teasing, but now it slipped inside of him, and when Sean thrust forward it slid farther in and everything went all weird. "Fuck," he gasped, not knowing what exactly to do about it. "I'm not sure I like that," he managed to choke out.
Viggo released his cock and leaned back. "Just relax," he assured, looking up at Sean. "Trust me."
Brow furrowed, sweat pouring down the sides of his face, Sean met Viggo's blue eyes and held them. He felt so turned on and yet a bit nauseous at the same time. But to know Vig was to trust him. So he tried to relax.
And then Viggo was kissing him again, licking him, gently sucking his balls until he started to see stars. He felt Viggo's free hand reach up and gently caress his legs and arse, nudging and urging him until Sean arched his back and spread his legs just a bit more.
And then it was in. All the way in. Sliding and twisting and probing. And Sean felt the nausea begin to turn to burning, a searing mixture of pain and undefinable tingling that was spreading like wildfire from his groin outward to all the extremities of his body.
He bit down hard on what he was sure would be a whimper. He felt dizzy, he was weak and shaky, he had lost control of his own body. He was utterly helpless, taken by Viggo's skilled mouth and all-consuming touch.
And his possessor could sense it. "Enough?" Viggo asked suddenly, his own breathing as labored as Sean's.
"Enough," Sean agreed, panting.
He was released, and Viggo climbed up, wrapping his arms around Sean and burying his face in Sean's neck.
"Fuckin' hell," Sean breathed, curling himself around Viggo's slender, sweat-slicked body. He was still burning, burning with lust, every muscle stretched taut and trembling with desire. The way Viggo had touched him, the way Viggo had kissed him...he had to have him, had to have him now.
He wrapped his hands around Viggo's shoulders and pushed him back. They stood looking at one another, chests rising and falling rapidly, skin twitching, eyes hungry. Viggo's lips were red and swollen, his beard damp, hair tangled from Sean's passionate clutches.
"Feel relaxed?" Viggo asked, with a twinge of taunting.
"The fucking opposite and you know it," Sean practically growled.
Viggo's body shifted and twisted seductively, head tipped back, neck muscles tight, shoulders still gripped by Sean, but hips free to dance forward and brush his velvety cock against Sean's. "What are you waiting for, then?"
He didn't have to ask twice. Sean slid his hands down Viggo's arms, starting as a caress and then quickly growing in force. Within seconds Viggo's chest was forced up against Sean's, and his arms pinned roughly behind his back.
Sean bit into Viggo's neck, body thrilling at the sounds he got in response. He held his friend's wrists together with one hand, and with a little push from his knee, used his other hand to spin Viggo round in his grasp.
With Viggo's back to him, arse rubbing up against him, he was so aroused he thought he might come right then, all over that arched body. Pulling the restrained arms even tighter, he leaned forward and sank his teeth into Viggo's shoulder, rewarding each moan of pleasure with a generous stroke from his tongue.
Viggo writhed a little in his grasp, but his hands, rather than pulling apart, obediently stretched to grip his own elbows, making it easier for Sean to keep hold of him as he slid his cock teasingly up and down the cleft of Viggo's arse. Viggo leaned his head back, eyes closed, mouth open and exhaling barely controlled breaths.
Sean took advantage of the other man's distracted state and pushed his knee forward, meeting unsuspecting joints and then sweeping across. Viggo's knees buckled from the sudden shove and he tumbled down to the carpet, Sean following him and skillfully managing to keep either of them from hitting too hard or hurting themselves.
They both landed on their sides with a sharp exhale of breath. There was a moment of silence and then Viggo said simply, "Nicely done."
Sometimes Vig was so damn hard to read, Sean thought. He stared at the sinewy tanned back, the dark tendrils of hair just brushing the narrow shoulders. He curled his fingers more tightly around Viggo's crossed arms and pushed his body up close. He leaned forward and spoke into his friend's ear. "Too nice?"
"No such thing," Viggo answered, turning his head a bit and attempting to look at Sean. "I'd actually prefer not to have the wind knocked out of me again."
Sean felt himself flush and he buried his face in Viggo's hair. "Sorry 'bout that," he mumbled softly, sheepishly. "I seem to get off on throwing you round a bit."
"I noticed." Viggo shifted and stretched, rubbing his backside against Sean's erection. "But I like it, too."
Sean slipped one hand free, and with closed eyes curled his fingers tentatively around Viggo's warm and incredibly hard cock. "I noticed," he murmured into Viggo's neck. He could feel the other man shivering from the intimate contact. Could feel himself trembling, but he spoke with more authority than he felt. "So would you also like getting fucked?"
"I don't know," Viggo teased. "I think maybe I've changed my mind." He started to struggle, then, gasping as the movement caused his penis to slide up and down in Sean's grasp.
"Oh no, you don't," Sean said, returning both hands to the task of keeping Viggo's arms pinned. "Too late for that." He pushed him forward, face to the carpet, and threw a leg over him, using his weight as an advantage.
Viggo was really struggling, now, though Sean could hear his little chortling laugh in between grunts of exertion, so he knew he wasn't really trying to get away. It was exhilarating, and terrifying, Sean's muscles straining, rubbing against Viggo's body, his chest tightening and his eyes practically watering from the intensity of it all. He knew it was time, time to do what Viggo wanted him to, time to do what he wanted to. What he was craving. What his body was begging for.
He could see the lube and condom just within reach on the floor. But he'd need both hands and there was no way he was letting Viggo go. It was too good like this, too fucking amazing to have Vig like this, too great an accomplishment to have tackled him to the ground and then taken him by force. Consensual force, he amended mentally, if there were such a thing.
And then he saw it. The answer to all his problems. And he had Viggo's permission to use it.
It was only about a meter away.
He put more of his weight on Viggo, moving quickly, using his chest to help hold his captive down while he reached out with one hand and snatched his own belt up from the floor. It was leather, and strong. It would do quite nicely.
And he suddenly remembered that they had talked about this, too, his scattered consciousness dancing around memories and picking up pieces of conversations. What had even brought that up? God, something he'd said, after a few too many beers, something about Lady Chatterly and liking to take women up against trees and the like. And Viggo asking if he'd ever tied anyone up, and if he'd like to.
Yes.
Viggo curled upwards, feet up, head thrust back, letting out that little choked cry as he felt Sean wrap the belt around his wiry forearms. The little sigh followed when Sean threaded the end through the buckle and then yanked it tight.
"Not gettin' away now," Sean purred. Still fighting Viggo's wriggling, and not quite sure of what he was doing, he wound the belt through itself, fashioning a sort of knot. He then tucked the excess length under his hip, using his body weight to hold it in place just long enough for him to get to that damn lube.
Once he had his fingers slicked up, he put his left hand back on Viggo's arms. He stared a moment at that arse, that beautiful curving arse. Couldn't get over how perfect and round and smooth it was, compared with the rest of Vig's taut, wiry body.
"Sean..." Viggo sighed, gently urging him.
He adjusted his body, sliding down so he could maneuver better. And so he could bite gently into that curved flesh as he slid his wet fingers up the cleft.
Viggo was making rumbly noises in his throat, shifting and arching and raising his arse to make it easier for Sean to slip a finger inside.
Sean watched him carefully, watched every twitch and shudder, listened to the cadence of each moan. Tried to learn from those cues, tried to get it right. Pushed in deep, then out again, then in, changing the angle until he got the reaction Viggo had gotten out of him.
Both of them were breathing heavily now, both straining, one against the belt and one to hold it. Sean could feel wetness seeping out of his cock, rubbing and mixing with the sweat on Viggo's leg.
"Another one, Sean," Viggo whispered hoarsely. "Please."
Unable to keep his hand from trembling, Sean forced another slick finger inside, meeting resistance at first and then carefully easing past it. He nibbled a wet path up Viggo's skin, biting and licking and pushing their bodies together, gripping Viggo's arms, fucking him with gently curved fingers.
"Oh, fuck," Viggo groaned, rising up to meet each thrust. "Goddammit, Sean, I want you to fuck me. Now."
"Ask me again," Sean heard himself say, shocking even himself. He just wanted to hear it. Hear it again.
Viggo didn't miss a beat. "I didn't ask, you bastard! Take your fucking cock and put it in me already, goddamit!"
It was good enough. Sean didn't care enough about the rules of tops or bottoms or doms or subs. He just wanted to hear Viggo's need, to know that he wanted it, too. That he wanted Sean. As much as Sean wanted him.
Cursing his unsteady hands, he fumbled with the lube and condom.
"Sean..." It was Viggo's soft but impatient voice again.
"Easy, Vig," Sean laughed nervously. "My willy's a bit more complicated than yours."
Viggo snorted. "I didn't seem to have any problems with it."
Sean felt himself flushing at the memory of that expert mouth and tongue all over him. "No, you didn't," he sighed. He adjusted himself, made sure it all felt right, then lubed the condom up thoroughly.
Viggo pressed back against him, felt the wet cock, and he moaned. "God, Sean, now, please!"
And Sean complied. He was worried, worried he might hurt him, worried he might fuck it up. But he did it. Pushed his way in. Pushed into that tight, tight heat. Held onto the belt with one hand, and Viggo's hip with the other, holding that fantastic body steady as he forced himself all the way in.
Minutes passed, letting Viggo adjust, slowly shifting, a little out, then back in. A little more out, dragging softly. Then back in a little harder. And faster.
"More..." Viggo murmured, leaning forward and curving his body, raising his arse so Sean could sink in even deeper.
Sean bit down on an unmanly whimper. Viggo felt so good. It was like nothing he had ever imagined, nothing he could have expected. He wanted to tell him, wanted to tell Viggo how amazing it felt, how amazing Vig looked, all sweat-soaked and writhing beneath him. Wanted so badly to share it, to say something coherent, something worthwhile, but he couldn't. Couldn't utter a single fucking word.
He could only make noises, panting, guttural noises, as he plunged in and out, holding onto the belt like the reins of a horse, gripping Viggo's hip so tight he was sure he'd leave bruises. He curled his own body, meshing with Viggo's, spooning him, kissing his flesh, licking up the salty sweet moisture.
And he started to feel it. That familiar tidal wave of pleasure, that unstoppable flood of sensation. The point of no return. But he held on, held on for dear life because even through the haze of fog and swirling stars in his brain, he noticed that Viggo was making just as much noise as he was, their panting breaths synchronizing, their moans overlapping.
"Touch me, Sean," Viggo pleaded softly. "Please touch me."
Sean's whole body flamed at the sound of Viggo's sensual voice. His eyes shut tight, body straining, he moved his hand down to firmly grip Viggo's erection.
Viggo groaned deeply, arse thrusting backwards, muscles tensing. Everything tightened around Sean's cock all at once and he was done for. With a shout he came, so hard and so violently it almost hurt, his body shuddering uncontrollably throughout the last few shaky thrusts. But he kept his hold of Viggo, his hand stroking abruptly with each ripple of orgasm, and it was only moments later that Viggo's strangled cry rang out and he ran hot and thick over Sean's hand.
And it was done. They were both spent, both out of breath, both ready to melt into the carpet. They were hot and wet and sticking together.
Sean quivered. Tried to inhale. Tried to focus, to savor the last moments of this, to remember. Remember the perfection. The struggle, the sweat, the stroking and sucking and pounding. And giving as much pleasure as he'd gotten.
And it had been perfect. Every part of it, even the parts that scared him. He kissed Viggo's back lightly and then slowly withdrew. He collapsed onto his back with a small groan, wiping his fingers on his own hip, shivering a bit at the feel of Viggo's release being rubbed into his flesh. He shifted and sighed, aching, feeling as if he'd just run a marathon.
"Sean." Viggo's husky voice.
He looked over. "Oh, shit, yeah," he said hastily, using his left hand to undo the belt and free up Viggo's arms. "Sorry."
Viggo didn't answer, just rolled over with a sigh and curled up next to him, head on his shoulder, arm thrown across his chest. They both lay there awhile, waiting, waiting for the dizziness to fade, for their breathing to quiet.
Sean gazed down at Viggo's forearm, angry red splotches on the skin where the restraint had been. Remorse sliced through his reverie, and he felt his stomach flip. He reached over with gentle fingers and caressed the marred flesh. "Should I not have done it?"
Viggo shifted closer. "I said you could use it."
"But was that what you had in mind? I mean--"
"Actually," Viggo said, lifting his head and looking into Sean's eyes, "I thought you might just smack me across the ass a couple of times."
Sean flushed to what he knew must be a deep red. "I didn't--I wouldn't want to hurt you," he said, feeling stupid as he said it.
But his friend smiled, and reached up and ruffled his hair. "I know that. That's why I told you to do what you wanted. I trusted you."
Sean touched Viggo's marked flesh again. "I did hurt you."
"I told you before it'll take more than that. It's just red. It'll be gone tomorrow." He paused. "But not forgotten. You surprised me, Bean. And I like that. I like that a lot."
Now Sean's cheeks were burning. And once again he found himself unable to speak.
Viggo smiled and lay down again. Nuzzled his face into Sean's neck. "I know this is all weird shit for you," Viggo said, his own voice a bit shaky. "But if you want, you can stay awhile. I--I'd like you to."
Sean tensed up at that. Stay awhile. Wasn't sure exactly what that meant. With Vig it could be anything. Could mean for the next five minutes. Could mean all night. Could mean--well, it meant something. And he hadn't thought about that. Hadn't thought about wanting anything other than fucking Viggo right then and there.
And now Viggo shifted, pulled away a little. His voice was very quiet then, very flat. "Or is this gonna be one of those things where we work on the set together and talk about football and never make eye contact again?"
"No," Sean said without even thinking about it. No. He definitely didn't want that. Didn't want this to be it, all there was. And suddenly he was mad, mad at himself for not saying anything, for not answering Viggo. For fucking up something so simple, like he always did.
He reached out and pulled Viggo against him, reveling in the feel of that damp, muscled body. And he realized that he wanted every part of Viggo. Even the parts that scared him.
"Yeah," he agreed, rubbing his chin against Viggo's soft brown hair. "I'll stay. I think I'd like that."
Title: Trust
Pairing: VM/SB
Author: shrinetolust
Series: Part of a much larger fic, with a VigOrliBean to follow, hopefully....
Rated: NC-17 Totally. Completely.
Story: Porn with plot; Sean can't resist the lure of Viggo.
Disclaimer: Don't know these lovely men, don't know what they get up to in their free time. This is all part of my overactive lustful imagination, done with love, and no harm or offense is intended. It's FICTION!!
Feedback: Yes please. Pretty please, with Sean on top. :P Leave a note here or mail me at shrinetolust AT hotmail.com
Crossposted: Oh, everywhere. I am a feedback whore.
Archive: rugbytackle, my own LJ. Others, please ask.
Beta: I needed lots of help!! Thanks SO much to the talented and lovely sheldrake and quailquill for beta, and to milochka for late-night readthroughs and handholding. And thanks to karelian for pep talk and advice, even though I didn't take all of it. *G* Bless you all!!
Notes: Please be kind--first-ever RPS and only second-ever slash!
Warnings: A wee bit o' bondage
That was the smile, that was the one that had made him come undone, that day. That day in Viggo's apartment, when they were joking around and Sean shoved him, and then Viggo shoved him back, harder. And Viggo's eyes narrowed and his muscles flexed, and he looked ready, ready for a real fight.
And it wasn't like Sean to back down from a challenge. So he pushed Viggo so hard Viggo slammed into the wall. And when he hit the wall he made this little noise, this choked little cry mingled with a husky sigh, and he smiled at Sean in a way Sean had never been smiled at before.
And he didn't quite know what to do, his adrenaline racing, his competitive urges filling him inside, making his breathing quicken...all this mingling with a sudden realization that he was turned on, and concern that maybe he had hurt his friend, and concern that maybe that was why he was turned on.
But Viggo lunged at him, then, hitting him square in the chest and knocking them both to the ground. And when Viggo was on top of him, laughing, his eyes bright and fiery and a little crazy, Sean realized it wasn't the hurt. It was the throwing Vig around that he was craving, the physical contact, the hearts beating, heavy breathing.
"Did I hurt you?" he heard himself ask, feeling weak for confessing to his worry, but not being able to hold it back.
"Nah, it'll take more than that," came the gravelly reply. Viggo lifted his hands up in the air and he gazed off through them. "There's always this perfect moment, the moment of flying through the air, that moment of pure freedom from control, that moment of pure destiny." He turned back, eyes still wild. "I love that."
So Sean gave him another moment of freedom, grabbing him by the ribcage and lifting him, his muscles straining as he gave him a little pitch and tossed Viggo off to the side, then quickly rolled over and got on top of him. Viggo was laughing, then, or trying to, anyway...with the wind knocked out of him it sounded more like wheezing.
"How's that for destiny?" Sean asked.
More wheezing, then Viggo struggled, but he was no match for Sean without the element of surprise. Sean was able to grasp one wrist and one wiry forearm, and he pinned them to the floor.
And Sean made a noise of triumph, grinning down at Viggo, his breath faster but not as labored as the man under him, who was still fighting to get his lungs filled back up.
"Well, you've got me--" Viggo's voice strained-- "What are you--gonna do with me?"
"It sounds like you need fuckin' CPR," Sean joked, but then his eyes drifted down to Viggo's parted lips, the air rushing in and out of them, and then there was a sudden awareness that the body underneath him was hard, hip bones digging into him, but something in between them was pressing him as well, and before he knew what the hell he was doing his mouth was over Viggo's.
That was the first time he'd ever kissed a man. He vaguely remembered a few handjobs...hell, when you're pissed and bitter and horny, sometimes anyone's hand will do. And Sean had been something of a pretty boy when he was young...he'd had enough offers, that was for sure, and once in awhile, blind drunk and propositioned in the loo, well, what the hell.
But no kissing, no sucking, no fucking. Had never even occurred to him. Had never even been a consideration, fantasy, stray thought. But Viggo, damn him, something in Viggo had just plucked a string inside of him, sending this resonating horniness and utter thirst for possession all through him.
Maybe fucking it up with three women had left him burnt on the idea of girls for a while, he didn't know. At that moment he didn't care, all that mattered was getting his tongue inside Viggo's mouth.
Viggo shuddered underneath him, and then struggled, which was fruitless considering Sean's dominant position, the full weight of his body keeping his captive in place. But he shifted just a little, and one of Viggo's hands slipped free of his grasp, and plunged down between them.
That was going a little faster than Sean had expected, and he wasn't sure what to do as Viggo's hand pushed past his stomach, past his waistband, down to his now rock-hard cock. He grunted at the contact, but then Viggo's fingers went past that, too, to curve around his balls, and squeeze. Hard. And then harder.
Sean broke free of his crushing kiss and yelled out in pain and surprise. Viggo stared angrily up at him, panting heavily, rasping, "I couldn't-- fuckin'--breathe, dammit!"
Sean rolled off of him, grimacing as he reached down and gingerly rubbed himself. "Well I won't be able to have any more children, now, thanks so much!"
"Well I hope--" Viggo coughed heartily-- "you weren't planning on getting me pregnant."
"I should think you'd like that," Sean sneered. "You could add another life experience to your list of accomplishments...think how many poems you could write about it. You could photograph every stage of your growing belly, and make a collage out of it, in black and white, of course, for emotional and aesthetic resonance."
Viggo's eyes widened in surprise, but then gradually his skin crinkled and his mouth split into a grin. He cackled hoarsely, his breathing finally leveling into more normally paced bursts.
And Sean laughed then, too, and could feel his face get red. He hated that, hated the flush that would crawl over his skin. Always made him feel like such a girl.
Viggo sat up, rubbing his chest. "You are somethin' else," he chuckled. "You can say the most appalling shit without batting an eyelash, but then five seconds later you get all embarrassed and have that 'ohh, did I say something bad?' look."
"I do not," Sean protested, feeling himself getting even redder.
Viggo's grin widened. "So what's the deal, Bean? You fuckin' with me, trying to fuck me up, fuck me over, or..." and he leaned over, his face inches from Sean's, "or do you just wanna fuck?"
Sean's cheeks started to burn, and his mind raced, but he was unable to find any sort of clever remark to come back with. And so he was stuck with the truth. "I don't know."
Viggo's expression softened, then, and his eyes drifted to Sean's lips, and he moved in closer. "Okay," he whispered, and he pressed his mouth to Sean's.
Sean couldn't help a small moan that vibrated in the back of his throat. Vig was in control this time, and his mouth was hot, and soft...softer than Sean had expected it to be. But then there was the bristle of facial hair, the insistent probing of that long and agile tongue, and the small nips with teeth until his own mouth felt fucked and swollen.
"I wasn't sure about you." The words were exhaled against his lips, warm air against wet, ravaged flesh.
"I'm not sure about me," Sean replied gruffly, looking into Viggo's intensely blue eyes. There was such confidence there, such easy sensuality in his whole expression. "Somehow I feel you know better than I do."
Viggo kissed him again, just a quick rub of the lips, before leaning back, bracing himself up on one hand. With the other he started unbuttoning his shirt. His mouth twisted into a smirk. "Well, there's only one way to find out now, isn't there?"
Sean swallowed and felt all his muscles tighten. He didn't move, couldn't move. He just watched. Watched Viggo's hand, strong fingers flipping open buttons, exposing chest, soft hair over taut, tan skin.
Viggo slid his legs under him and got to his feet. He let the shirt fall from his shoulders and when it floated to the ground, he kicked it away with his bare foot. As his eyes locked with Sean's, he leaned forward, grasped the waistband of his sweatpants, and yanked them down.
Within seconds they were punted in the direction of the shirt, and Viggo stood there completely naked, shoulders thrust back, body arched seductively, sweat glistening at his neck, chest, and down his sides. He held both arms out slightly, palms forward, looking down at Sean. "This is the moment," he said quietly, gravelly voice roughing the edges of his words.
Sean had his head tilted up to focus on Viggo's face, but his eyes couldn't help wandering to that sinewy, slick body, couldn't help noticing the prominent evidence of his friend's desire. "Moment of pure destiny, I suppose," he said with a teasing lilt, though his voice shook. "The moment I fly through the air."
Viggo smiled. "Or fly through that door. Your choice."
"You know I don't like flying." Sean could feel himself trembling a little, his whole body so keenly, so painfully aware of Viggo's nearness. Of his nakedness. "I prefer to climb."
And then Viggo's smile deepened, one side of his lips crawling higher, revealing a hint of teeth. "So climb."
Sean's heart skipped a beat and he felt the sweat begin to run between his shoulder blades. His cock was aching, straining against his pants, but the rest of his body remained frozen. Part of him wanted so desperately to touch Viggo, to grab him, to hold him, but something was keeping him back. Some fear, some uncertainty--
And then Viggo was saying his name, long fingers curving up towards his palms in a beckoning gesture. "Come on," he almost whispered. "Take what you want, Sean."
And Sean broke free. Tore his gaze from Viggo's eyes and let it drift down to that tight, wiry frame. He reached out a hand, reached out and curled his fingers around Viggo's left thigh, his palm pressing against damp, heated flesh.
Viggo quivered under his touch, which stirred Sean's desire more. His left hand came up to grip Viggo's other leg, and he let his thumb caress the tender skin of the inner thigh before digging in possessively.
Viggo exhaled sharply and Sean looked up at him. Feeling his cheeks burning again, he hoisted himself up, fingers clawing at flesh as he let his body roughly slide up against Viggo's erection. Viggo made a small guttural noise and then grabbed him and held him close.
Sean let Viggo have his mouth again, let him plunder and taste and bite until they were both breathless. He let his own hands wander as far as they would reach, fingers kneading the muscular shoulders, nails scraping down the lean back, arms tightening around the narrow waist.
Viggo melted into his grasp, his naked body curved against Sean's fully clothed one, the sigh with the little hitch in it escaping his lips every time Sean dug into a sensitive curve or stretch of flesh.
Sean wanted Viggo very badly. But he wasn't sure, exactly, what that meant. Had the idea, of course, but the execution--he just wasn't sure. His stomach knotted considerably. Hey, Vig, since we're best mates and all that, would you mind leaning over that table so I can fuck you in the arse? He shivered. It was just too foreign, too bloody strange.
But his whole body was straining, his arms and hands and mouth and cock...all straining towards Viggo, wanting to take him, consume him, own him.
Viggo seemed to sense his urgency, and his hands slid under Sean's shirt, rough fingers scraping sensitized flesh. He raised his arms, stretching, pulling the fabric of the shirt until Sean relented and let him tug it over his head. It ended up near the pile of Viggo's discarded clothes.
Then Viggo looked directly into Sean's eyes, biting his own bottom lip and looking mischievous and eager. He unbuckled Sean's belt and slid it out of the loops. He stretched it out between his hands and looked at it, then back at Sean. "Feel free to use this however you want," he said teasingly, before tossing it to the side.
Sean made a little noise, low in his throat. Hadn't expected that. He smiled a little hesitantly. "Your expectations are a bit high, aren't they? You do realize I've never--"
Viggo leaned in, body curved, head low so he could look up at Sean seductively. "I can recognize a horny fucking bastard when I see one. I have faith in you."
Sean grabbed him and pulled him forward, biting into his neck and tasting the salty, smooth skin. Viggo slithered in and out of his range, softly laughing as his fingers worked to undo Sean's trousers.
And then Vig's hands were on him, holding him, stroking him, cupping him. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Viggo's throat, his breath coming heavy now. "Not so much," he panted, not wanting it to all end abruptly. "I want to--" but he couldn't finish the statement, and his cheeks were getting red again.
Viggo slowed down, his fingers gently curling around Sean's cock and holding him, arm locked between their bodies. He exhaled quietly, air gently stirring Sean's fine hair. His voice was low as he spoke. "I don't have to worry about anything, do I?" he asked.
Sean didn't know quite what that meant. Worry? He pulled back and looked into Viggo's eyes. Why would he worry? And then Sean thought about where Vig's hand was and what they might get up to and he quickly answered, "No! Nothing. Nothing at all."
Viggo held his gaze. "I know we talked about it last month, but--" he smiled, his eyes glittering-- "a month is a long time in the life of a sex symbol."
Sean snorted and he could feel the cursed heat in his cheeks again. "You know me better than that."
"I trust you," Viggo said levelly, his fingers ever so subtly driving Sean to madness. "Do you trust me?"
He didn't even have to ask. To know Viggo was to trust Viggo. That was the one thing you knew about him for sure. "Hell yeah," he answered, his voice a bit unsteady.
Viggo's smile deepened and then he kissed Sean again, a tender, gentle kiss.
And then Sean remembered that they had discussed it last month. On location, too, in costume, with people milling about, while they talked in low voices about past fucks. In great detail, as a matter of fact. In such detail that he had started to squirm, if he remembered correctly. "Hey," he said, pulling away from Viggo's lips. "Why did we talk about that last month? I thought you said you weren't sure about--"
"A man can always hope," Viggo cut in. And then he dipped his head and licked Sean's neck from the base of his throat all the way to his chin, his eyes warming with the sound of Sean's responsive moan. He let the tip of his tongue curl against his teeth a moment before continuing, "and fuck if I didn't really hope when it came to you."
Sean grinned, embarrassed. Willed his heart to stop beating so fucking fast. Tried to deflect. "I wonder how many others you had that little chat with? Orlando, of course. I'm sure he was sitting in your lap at the time."
Viggo's eyebrows arched. "Really, the Elf boy? Why did you choose him? Would you like that?" His hand gripped Sean's cock a bit tighter. "To fuck Orlando, I mean?"
"For fuck's sake, Viggo," Sean sputtered, wondering what shade of red he'd got up to by now. "One bloke at a time, eh?" He leaned forward and bumped their foreheads together. "Can we focus, please?".
"Oh trust me, I'm gonna focus," Viggo assured him, giving him a good long stroke and sighing when Sean shuddered in response. "I get the feeling," he said, his tone suddenly changed, his eyes melting into Sean's, "that the only way this is goin' down is you fucking me, rather than the other way around."
Sean felt his stomach tighten and then flip. "Oh yeah. That's the only way, really." He hadn't even thought about it. Had just assumed.
Viggo didn't blink. "Yeah, I didn't really figure you for a bottom."
And Sean finally thought about it. "You either."
"Yeah, well..." Viggo released Sean's cock and then stepped back. "I can be flexible."
"I hope so," Sean teased, though he was aching at the loss of Viggo's touch.
Viggo smiled again, that smile that had done Sean in. "But only for the right kind of man. I'm counting on you, Sean." And with that he scratched his fingernails down Sean's chest. "I'm counting on you to be that kind of man."
And Sean swallowed, hard, and felt his heart pounding in his chest. And felt a little dizzy, even. And couldn't think of a response.
Viggo laughed, then walked away from him. "Be right back," he said. "The stuff's in the bathroom."
Sean watched him move away, bare feet soft on the carpet. He realized then how gracefully Viggo moved, seeing him naked like that, watching the sinewy muscles ripple in succession with each step--his limbs moved so fluidly, evenly, his feet touched the ground silently, his shoulders rolled sensually. There was nothing awkward or rough about him at all. He just flowed.
Viggo was gone barely a minute or two. Not long at all, but long enough for Sean to start thinking. To start being aware. Aware of where he was, what he was doing. What he was about to do, and with whom.
He felt incredibly exposed all of a sudden. Shirtless, trousers open, cock jutting lewdly out the front. In the center of Viggo's apartment. And where was Viggo? In the bathroom. Naked.
It was all so surreal.
Not that he didn't want it. Not that he could pretend it was so shocking, either. No, he'd had to face it long ago that he sometimes looked at men with what amounted to more than friendly interest. Not many men, but some. And Vig had been one of them--was one of them.
So no, he couldn't pretend to be straight-as-an-arrow Bean, 'cause that would just be bullshit. But he could admit to never having done this kind of thing before. Never having confessed to this need, this want--to giving himself over like this. And with a friend, a good mate, someone who knew him. Maybe knew him better than he knew himself.
Viggo came back. Sauntered over, graceful as before, cock still just as hard. Moved close, kissed Sean on the mouth. Held his hands up to show where he'd been. Condom in one hand, lube in the other.
Sean blushed and then looked at the condom, a little confused. Thought they had said that--
"You let a guy do you bareback on the first date," Viggo interrupted his thoughts, "the first thing he starts to wonder is how many other guys did you do that with?" He kissed Sean again, and then pulled back just enough so Sean could see his eyes clearly. "I don't want you to wonder."
And Sean understood, but it was getting so intense, and he had to let his eyes drop, and look at the carpet.
Viggo's voice was soft and understanding. "Things getting a little weird for you?"
"A bit, yeah," Sean replied, but then he sensed Viggo might move away and he reached out and touched Viggo's hip, his long fingers skating delicately across silky skin.
"Do you want to stop?" Viggo's flesh trembled under Sean's touch, belying his calm tone.
"No." And Sean forced himself to look up, to meet the longing look in those potent eyes.
Viggo gazed at him for a few moments, then seemed to see what he was looking for. "Well, maybe I can help you relax," he said quietly, in barely more than a whisper.
He moved forward and kissed Sean, on the mouth, on the cheek, jaw, and neck. Then his lips and tongue worked together, sliding down, down Sean's body, snaking around and leaving wet patterns all across his skin.
Sean moaned at the tingling sensations coursing through his body, and his fingers again wound into Viggo's hair. He held his breath as Viggo dropped to his knees, then yanked Sean's trousers and boxers down to his ankles. And then he took Sean into his mouth.
Sean gasped and then stared, stared at him in wonder, watching as this gorgeous man's lips slid up and down the length of him, tongue slipping out here and there to tease him. And then the hands came up, caressing him and stroking him and essentially doing whatever it took to make him completely lose his mind.
Now he was definitely going to fall over. Ankles locked by his dropped clothes, body shaking with desire, he didn't think he could stand like this much longer. "Vig," he breathed, trying to pull back. "Vig, hang on a minute."
Viggo responded to the gentle tug on his hair and leaned back. "What is it?"
Sean couldn't help grinning like an idiot, his body flushed and warm from Viggo's attentions. "I'm off-kilter, like. I'm gonna fall over and hit me head and that'll be the end of this."
Viggo grinned back. "Well if you were unconscious, then I'd get to fuck you." But he helped Sean step out of his clothes and moved them out of the way.
"Cheeky bastard," Sean admonished.
Viggo gazed up at him, eyes filled with mirth as well as passion, and leaned forward again to put his mouth around Sean, never breaking eye contact.
Sean felt a jolt of pleasure go through his body. It was too much, too wonderful, more than he had ever expected. More than he'd ever thought would happen. His fingers curled into Viggo's hair again, and he found himself thrusting slightly, forcing himself to the back of Viggo's throat.
Which made him almost lose it right then and there. He threw his head back and groaned loudly, riding the waves of sensation but forcing himself not to let go. He didn't want it to end just yet. He wanted more. More of Viggo. More of this, this incredible feeling.
And then, suddenly, it was different.
His eyes flew open, staring up at the ceiling, body unexpectedly tense as cool, slick fingers started sliding up the cleft of his arse. Viggo's lips were still wrapped around his cock, still moving, still sucking, so he found it difficult to form any words of protest. He could only wait, breath coming heavy, until his entire body grew rigid and his breathing caught in his throat.
Viggo's finger had been teasing, but now it slipped inside of him, and when Sean thrust forward it slid farther in and everything went all weird. "Fuck," he gasped, not knowing what exactly to do about it. "I'm not sure I like that," he managed to choke out.
Viggo released his cock and leaned back. "Just relax," he assured, looking up at Sean. "Trust me."
Brow furrowed, sweat pouring down the sides of his face, Sean met Viggo's blue eyes and held them. He felt so turned on and yet a bit nauseous at the same time. But to know Vig was to trust him. So he tried to relax.
And then Viggo was kissing him again, licking him, gently sucking his balls until he started to see stars. He felt Viggo's free hand reach up and gently caress his legs and arse, nudging and urging him until Sean arched his back and spread his legs just a bit more.
And then it was in. All the way in. Sliding and twisting and probing. And Sean felt the nausea begin to turn to burning, a searing mixture of pain and undefinable tingling that was spreading like wildfire from his groin outward to all the extremities of his body.
He bit down hard on what he was sure would be a whimper. He felt dizzy, he was weak and shaky, he had lost control of his own body. He was utterly helpless, taken by Viggo's skilled mouth and all-consuming touch.
And his possessor could sense it. "Enough?" Viggo asked suddenly, his own breathing as labored as Sean's.
"Enough," Sean agreed, panting.
He was released, and Viggo climbed up, wrapping his arms around Sean and burying his face in Sean's neck.
"Fuckin' hell," Sean breathed, curling himself around Viggo's slender, sweat-slicked body. He was still burning, burning with lust, every muscle stretched taut and trembling with desire. The way Viggo had touched him, the way Viggo had kissed him...he had to have him, had to have him now.
He wrapped his hands around Viggo's shoulders and pushed him back. They stood looking at one another, chests rising and falling rapidly, skin twitching, eyes hungry. Viggo's lips were red and swollen, his beard damp, hair tangled from Sean's passionate clutches.
"Feel relaxed?" Viggo asked, with a twinge of taunting.
"The fucking opposite and you know it," Sean practically growled.
Viggo's body shifted and twisted seductively, head tipped back, neck muscles tight, shoulders still gripped by Sean, but hips free to dance forward and brush his velvety cock against Sean's. "What are you waiting for, then?"
He didn't have to ask twice. Sean slid his hands down Viggo's arms, starting as a caress and then quickly growing in force. Within seconds Viggo's chest was forced up against Sean's, and his arms pinned roughly behind his back.
Sean bit into Viggo's neck, body thrilling at the sounds he got in response. He held his friend's wrists together with one hand, and with a little push from his knee, used his other hand to spin Viggo round in his grasp.
With Viggo's back to him, arse rubbing up against him, he was so aroused he thought he might come right then, all over that arched body. Pulling the restrained arms even tighter, he leaned forward and sank his teeth into Viggo's shoulder, rewarding each moan of pleasure with a generous stroke from his tongue.
Viggo writhed a little in his grasp, but his hands, rather than pulling apart, obediently stretched to grip his own elbows, making it easier for Sean to keep hold of him as he slid his cock teasingly up and down the cleft of Viggo's arse. Viggo leaned his head back, eyes closed, mouth open and exhaling barely controlled breaths.
Sean took advantage of the other man's distracted state and pushed his knee forward, meeting unsuspecting joints and then sweeping across. Viggo's knees buckled from the sudden shove and he tumbled down to the carpet, Sean following him and skillfully managing to keep either of them from hitting too hard or hurting themselves.
They both landed on their sides with a sharp exhale of breath. There was a moment of silence and then Viggo said simply, "Nicely done."
Sometimes Vig was so damn hard to read, Sean thought. He stared at the sinewy tanned back, the dark tendrils of hair just brushing the narrow shoulders. He curled his fingers more tightly around Viggo's crossed arms and pushed his body up close. He leaned forward and spoke into his friend's ear. "Too nice?"
"No such thing," Viggo answered, turning his head a bit and attempting to look at Sean. "I'd actually prefer not to have the wind knocked out of me again."
Sean felt himself flush and he buried his face in Viggo's hair. "Sorry 'bout that," he mumbled softly, sheepishly. "I seem to get off on throwing you round a bit."
"I noticed." Viggo shifted and stretched, rubbing his backside against Sean's erection. "But I like it, too."
Sean slipped one hand free, and with closed eyes curled his fingers tentatively around Viggo's warm and incredibly hard cock. "I noticed," he murmured into Viggo's neck. He could feel the other man shivering from the intimate contact. Could feel himself trembling, but he spoke with more authority than he felt. "So would you also like getting fucked?"
"I don't know," Viggo teased. "I think maybe I've changed my mind." He started to struggle, then, gasping as the movement caused his penis to slide up and down in Sean's grasp.
"Oh no, you don't," Sean said, returning both hands to the task of keeping Viggo's arms pinned. "Too late for that." He pushed him forward, face to the carpet, and threw a leg over him, using his weight as an advantage.
Viggo was really struggling, now, though Sean could hear his little chortling laugh in between grunts of exertion, so he knew he wasn't really trying to get away. It was exhilarating, and terrifying, Sean's muscles straining, rubbing against Viggo's body, his chest tightening and his eyes practically watering from the intensity of it all. He knew it was time, time to do what Viggo wanted him to, time to do what he wanted to. What he was craving. What his body was begging for.
He could see the lube and condom just within reach on the floor. But he'd need both hands and there was no way he was letting Viggo go. It was too good like this, too fucking amazing to have Vig like this, too great an accomplishment to have tackled him to the ground and then taken him by force. Consensual force, he amended mentally, if there were such a thing.
And then he saw it. The answer to all his problems. And he had Viggo's permission to use it.
It was only about a meter away.
He put more of his weight on Viggo, moving quickly, using his chest to help hold his captive down while he reached out with one hand and snatched his own belt up from the floor. It was leather, and strong. It would do quite nicely.
And he suddenly remembered that they had talked about this, too, his scattered consciousness dancing around memories and picking up pieces of conversations. What had even brought that up? God, something he'd said, after a few too many beers, something about Lady Chatterly and liking to take women up against trees and the like. And Viggo asking if he'd ever tied anyone up, and if he'd like to.
Yes.
Viggo curled upwards, feet up, head thrust back, letting out that little choked cry as he felt Sean wrap the belt around his wiry forearms. The little sigh followed when Sean threaded the end through the buckle and then yanked it tight.
"Not gettin' away now," Sean purred. Still fighting Viggo's wriggling, and not quite sure of what he was doing, he wound the belt through itself, fashioning a sort of knot. He then tucked the excess length under his hip, using his body weight to hold it in place just long enough for him to get to that damn lube.
Once he had his fingers slicked up, he put his left hand back on Viggo's arms. He stared a moment at that arse, that beautiful curving arse. Couldn't get over how perfect and round and smooth it was, compared with the rest of Vig's taut, wiry body.
"Sean..." Viggo sighed, gently urging him.
He adjusted his body, sliding down so he could maneuver better. And so he could bite gently into that curved flesh as he slid his wet fingers up the cleft.
Viggo was making rumbly noises in his throat, shifting and arching and raising his arse to make it easier for Sean to slip a finger inside.
Sean watched him carefully, watched every twitch and shudder, listened to the cadence of each moan. Tried to learn from those cues, tried to get it right. Pushed in deep, then out again, then in, changing the angle until he got the reaction Viggo had gotten out of him.
Both of them were breathing heavily now, both straining, one against the belt and one to hold it. Sean could feel wetness seeping out of his cock, rubbing and mixing with the sweat on Viggo's leg.
"Another one, Sean," Viggo whispered hoarsely. "Please."
Unable to keep his hand from trembling, Sean forced another slick finger inside, meeting resistance at first and then carefully easing past it. He nibbled a wet path up Viggo's skin, biting and licking and pushing their bodies together, gripping Viggo's arms, fucking him with gently curved fingers.
"Oh, fuck," Viggo groaned, rising up to meet each thrust. "Goddammit, Sean, I want you to fuck me. Now."
"Ask me again," Sean heard himself say, shocking even himself. He just wanted to hear it. Hear it again.
Viggo didn't miss a beat. "I didn't ask, you bastard! Take your fucking cock and put it in me already, goddamit!"
It was good enough. Sean didn't care enough about the rules of tops or bottoms or doms or subs. He just wanted to hear Viggo's need, to know that he wanted it, too. That he wanted Sean. As much as Sean wanted him.
Cursing his unsteady hands, he fumbled with the lube and condom.
"Sean..." It was Viggo's soft but impatient voice again.
"Easy, Vig," Sean laughed nervously. "My willy's a bit more complicated than yours."
Viggo snorted. "I didn't seem to have any problems with it."
Sean felt himself flushing at the memory of that expert mouth and tongue all over him. "No, you didn't," he sighed. He adjusted himself, made sure it all felt right, then lubed the condom up thoroughly.
Viggo pressed back against him, felt the wet cock, and he moaned. "God, Sean, now, please!"
And Sean complied. He was worried, worried he might hurt him, worried he might fuck it up. But he did it. Pushed his way in. Pushed into that tight, tight heat. Held onto the belt with one hand, and Viggo's hip with the other, holding that fantastic body steady as he forced himself all the way in.
Minutes passed, letting Viggo adjust, slowly shifting, a little out, then back in. A little more out, dragging softly. Then back in a little harder. And faster.
"More..." Viggo murmured, leaning forward and curving his body, raising his arse so Sean could sink in even deeper.
Sean bit down on an unmanly whimper. Viggo felt so good. It was like nothing he had ever imagined, nothing he could have expected. He wanted to tell him, wanted to tell Viggo how amazing it felt, how amazing Vig looked, all sweat-soaked and writhing beneath him. Wanted so badly to share it, to say something coherent, something worthwhile, but he couldn't. Couldn't utter a single fucking word.
He could only make noises, panting, guttural noises, as he plunged in and out, holding onto the belt like the reins of a horse, gripping Viggo's hip so tight he was sure he'd leave bruises. He curled his own body, meshing with Viggo's, spooning him, kissing his flesh, licking up the salty sweet moisture.
And he started to feel it. That familiar tidal wave of pleasure, that unstoppable flood of sensation. The point of no return. But he held on, held on for dear life because even through the haze of fog and swirling stars in his brain, he noticed that Viggo was making just as much noise as he was, their panting breaths synchronizing, their moans overlapping.
"Touch me, Sean," Viggo pleaded softly. "Please touch me."
Sean's whole body flamed at the sound of Viggo's sensual voice. His eyes shut tight, body straining, he moved his hand down to firmly grip Viggo's erection.
Viggo groaned deeply, arse thrusting backwards, muscles tensing. Everything tightened around Sean's cock all at once and he was done for. With a shout he came, so hard and so violently it almost hurt, his body shuddering uncontrollably throughout the last few shaky thrusts. But he kept his hold of Viggo, his hand stroking abruptly with each ripple of orgasm, and it was only moments later that Viggo's strangled cry rang out and he ran hot and thick over Sean's hand.
And it was done. They were both spent, both out of breath, both ready to melt into the carpet. They were hot and wet and sticking together.
Sean quivered. Tried to inhale. Tried to focus, to savor the last moments of this, to remember. Remember the perfection. The struggle, the sweat, the stroking and sucking and pounding. And giving as much pleasure as he'd gotten.
And it had been perfect. Every part of it, even the parts that scared him. He kissed Viggo's back lightly and then slowly withdrew. He collapsed onto his back with a small groan, wiping his fingers on his own hip, shivering a bit at the feel of Viggo's release being rubbed into his flesh. He shifted and sighed, aching, feeling as if he'd just run a marathon.
"Sean." Viggo's husky voice.
He looked over. "Oh, shit, yeah," he said hastily, using his left hand to undo the belt and free up Viggo's arms. "Sorry."
Viggo didn't answer, just rolled over with a sigh and curled up next to him, head on his shoulder, arm thrown across his chest. They both lay there awhile, waiting, waiting for the dizziness to fade, for their breathing to quiet.
Sean gazed down at Viggo's forearm, angry red splotches on the skin where the restraint had been. Remorse sliced through his reverie, and he felt his stomach flip. He reached over with gentle fingers and caressed the marred flesh. "Should I not have done it?"
Viggo shifted closer. "I said you could use it."
"But was that what you had in mind? I mean--"
"Actually," Viggo said, lifting his head and looking into Sean's eyes, "I thought you might just smack me across the ass a couple of times."
Sean flushed to what he knew must be a deep red. "I didn't--I wouldn't want to hurt you," he said, feeling stupid as he said it.
But his friend smiled, and reached up and ruffled his hair. "I know that. That's why I told you to do what you wanted. I trusted you."
Sean touched Viggo's marked flesh again. "I did hurt you."
"I told you before it'll take more than that. It's just red. It'll be gone tomorrow." He paused. "But not forgotten. You surprised me, Bean. And I like that. I like that a lot."
Now Sean's cheeks were burning. And once again he found himself unable to speak.
Viggo smiled and lay down again. Nuzzled his face into Sean's neck. "I know this is all weird shit for you," Viggo said, his own voice a bit shaky. "But if you want, you can stay awhile. I--I'd like you to."
Sean tensed up at that. Stay awhile. Wasn't sure exactly what that meant. With Vig it could be anything. Could mean for the next five minutes. Could mean all night. Could mean--well, it meant something. And he hadn't thought about that. Hadn't thought about wanting anything other than fucking Viggo right then and there.
And now Viggo shifted, pulled away a little. His voice was very quiet then, very flat. "Or is this gonna be one of those things where we work on the set together and talk about football and never make eye contact again?"
"No," Sean said without even thinking about it. No. He definitely didn't want that. Didn't want this to be it, all there was. And suddenly he was mad, mad at himself for not saying anything, for not answering Viggo. For fucking up something so simple, like he always did.
He reached out and pulled Viggo against him, reveling in the feel of that damp, muscled body. And he realized that he wanted every part of Viggo. Even the parts that scared him.
"Yeah," he agreed, rubbing his chin against Viggo's soft brown hair. "I'll stay. I think I'd like that."