...Oh into the sea of waking dreams
I follow without pride
Nothing stands between us here
and I won't be denied…
and I would be the one
to hold you down
kiss you so hard
I'll take your breath away
and after, I'd wipe away the tears
just close your eyes...
Sarah McLachlan, Possession
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Viggo gently bathes his lover’s hurts away in their sunken tub, soothing and stroking him, crooning words of love and adoration – in Spanish, in Danish, in English.
Sean relaxes under Viggo’s gentle ministrations, mind and body blissful, the voice calms like a mother’s lullaby. The water, lightly fragranced with soothing herbs seeps into his pores.
He loves this man – this man who has taken him on an unimaginable journey – a journey Sean never thought he’d take. A journey that has brought him to a place of, if not the perfect love, than at least one as close to that state as is humanly possible.
In the eyes of society their love is something shameful, to be either hidden or scorned. And though to some this love would seem strange or repulsive, there is a solid foundation of strength and unshakable trust.
And freedom…
The freedom to define for himself who he was, what he was, all without cheapening himself or living under someone else’s aegis—
The freedom to love without fear or boundaries—
The freedom to express that love without shame.
That, more than anything else, has been Viggo’s greatest gift to him. And one that Sean desires to repay.
“I want to wear your collar Viggo,” he says quietly, and the stars go still.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Viggo froze, Sean’s words echoing throughout the marble tiled room like the music of the Valar calling the world into being.
Five little words, meaningless by themselves, suddenly take on majestic import as the reality of what Sean is asking for begins to dawn on him.
It wasn’t something Viggo ever expected, nor could he in his most secret fantasies ever dreamt of.
A collar meant that Sean would be loudly proclaiming his love for him to the world. Or at least to those who understood what such a thing was for.
Sean waits with baited breath, wondering if his words had been too hasty. Nevertheless he means them. Yes, Viggo had marked him in their past scenes, but bites and whip kisses faded over time, and nothing would be left save memories.
He wanted more than that.
He wanted something tangible, something to cherish from his lover, a talisman for those days and nights when he would be away on location.
Moreover, he wanted to show Viggo the depths of his love in such a way that the other man would never question or doubt its power.
A collar wasn’t a wedding ring, but under the circumstances, it was damned close.
“Are you certain, min elskede? You don’t have to do this for me.”
Sean turns his body around, his lambent green eyes meeting the rugged features of his lover. “It’s what I want. I would wear it with pride and to hell with what some people might say or think. It would be a gift that I’d cherish forever.”
“And,” he says, lowering his eyes in that way that makes Viggo melt, “I would do whatever you asked of me.”
Viggo’s heart reflected in his eyes, those words like the first five searing into his soul.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whatever…
The wheels in Viggo’s head spun madly, trying to think of whatever might entail.
Sean’s threshold for pain was growing exponentially, though some of Viggo’s more exotic tools for chastisement had often been met with piercing screams or even outright refusal. And though Viggo had been patient, he’d made it abundantly clear to Sean that the blonde wouldn’t always get his way when it came to what instrument he’d use on him.
It came to him one night as they lay in bed, gently touching and kissing, sharing laughter and the secrets of their hearts.
“Touch yourself for me, Sean,” Viggo whispered, gently nibbling his lover’s ear. “I want to watch you.”
Viggo felt the other suddenly stiffen. “Viggo, please…”
Sean had always been reticent about self-pleasure, especially if someone were watching.
Viggo was in no mood to accept refusal.
“Do it.” The order was slow, deliberate, final.
And though he obeyed, Sean would not meet Viggo’s eyes, though to Viggo, the sight of the golden-skinned man grasping and stroking himself to completion always made him hungry for his lover’s body.
Whatever…
Soon Sean would pleasure himself, and he would learn to enjoy it.
He’d have no choice in the matter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Returning from a day of running errands, Sean found a note waiting for him on the kitchen table.
Upstairs. First Position. Wait for me, Love Viggo
P.S. You WILL earn MY collar tonight.
Sean’s heart nearly flew out of his chest as he raced to divest himself of clothing that had suddenly become too cumbersome.
Trepidation and excitement fought for supremacy as he approached the playroom. Opening the door, he experienced that first heady rush of adrenaline, realizing that he was once again leaving Sean the actor and public persona behind. In his place was Sean – lover, submissive, gift.
He entered the dimly lit space, having no idea what Viggo would demand of him, but determined to see it through.
As instructed Sean knelt upon the soft leather prie-dieu, head bowed and hands clasped in front of him, a supplicant in prayer to a god of dark pleasures.
He begins to breathe, conscious of everything around him as the center of his universe is reduced to the scent of leather, butter-soft and broken in, the heavy thud of boots on the polished wood floor (or perhaps that was the thundering beat of his heart), and of the quiet power of the man whose aura fills the entire room.
Viggo tips Sean’s angelic face upwards, the gesture a mix of command and caress. Blue eyes, limned in silver glittered in the half light. He bestows a gentle kiss upon Sean’s brow in salacious benediction.
Moments later the sight that held him spellbound was indeed a vision of the divinely diabolical.
Black leather pants cling to muscular thighs like a second skin. A blood red poet’s shirt with flowing lace cuffs billows outward, the silk shimmering in the dim light. The heavy motorcycle boots (one of the rare times Viggo ever wears shoes) are matte black with thick soles. The hair falls over one eye like a jet black curtain of mystery.
The vision literally steals Sean’s breath – it always does.
Bless me father, for I so desire to sin…
“Are you ready to please me, en lille?”
“Yes, daddy,” Sean answers in proper sub form, that single forbidden word thrills him to the very core of his being.
His finger begins to stroke across Sean’s pliant lips. “Do not close your eyes. I want to see you lose yourself in pleasure. I want to see every emotion that plays across your lovely face…”
The finger stops, poised on the threshold, “Open your mouth for me.”
Sean obeys and Viggo feeds him one finger, then another – a third – and Sean feasts upon them like a man starving. They are thick, salty, rough yet gentle. He snakes his tongue between the webbing, closing his eyes in rapture—
Only to be forcibly reminded by a stinging slap that echoes throughout the room. Viggo grasps his chin in a vice-like grip, his eyes dark and full of menace.
“How quickly you’ve forgotten, elskede,” he growls. The slap, though loud, was not painful, compared to some he’d received in the past. “Perhaps you misspoke when you asked for my collar. Did you?”
“No.”
“No, what?”
“No daddy,”
“Then let us try this once more.”
And Sean opens his mouth to take Viggo’s fingers into him again. He sucks and sucks, thinking of how good it feels, how good his lover/daddy tastes. His eyes are fastened upon Viggo’s as commanded and they sear him with their dark intensity. Already he thinks of Viggo fucking him with these same fingers, but that will come much later.
Viggo removes his fingers from Sean’s mouth – the kneeling man’s lips are slick and glossy with saliva, begging to be kissed – and his eyes have not wavered.
“I thought about what I would have you do to earn my collar,” Viggo says caressing Sean’s face, lulling the other man. “The ideas that went through my head…but, it was something you did, or should I say, were reluctant to do, that helped me to decide.”
Sean tries in vain to recall anything he may have done to displease Viggo. Nothing comes to mind. There’s little Sean would not do for this man he adores and has given himself to.
“Oh but there is,” he replied as if he’d read Sean’s mind. Viggo bends down until they are eye level. “You always balk when I ask you to touch yourself.”
Sean remembers the numerous times Viggo has asked him to do so. Always he complies but never willingly. He always comes but is always ashamed and embarrassed, even when Viggo licks his seed off his fingers.
“Tonight, you are going to do more than touch yourself. You are going to perform for me, looking directly into my eyes. You are going to do everything I demand, no matter what…and I am going to watch and enjoy every moment of your pleasure. If you please me well, the collar is yours. Should your eyes close, even for a second – that will be your safeword and it all ends…is that clear?”
Sean wants that collar more than anything, but is repulsed at what he must do to earn it. He cannot explain his feelings.
It isn’t as if he’s never pleasured himself, nor is Viggo some stranger – and yet, something inside of him has created this barrier.
But god he wants it. It is precious to him.
Slowly Sean nods in acquiescence.
“You don’t know how much I’m looking forward to watching you.” Warm lips trail sweet breath over Sean’s face.
“Oh and one more thing,” Viggo drawls seductively, claiming Sean’s mouth in a deeply possessive kiss. Hands stroke him to hardness, the same hands that create such beauty and wonder with his art, mold him like clay…
Then he feels the soft caress of leather, hears the snap circling around him – louder than an explosion in the silent room, as the cock ring is fastened at the base, imprisoning his desire.
Eyes dark and feral Viggo whispers, “Please me well, and you will be allowed to come. I suggest that you make it worth my while, little one.”
Viggo seats himself, legs spread, his arousal apparent from the indentation in the leather. To Sean, he looks like some ancient barbarian king, remote, immortal and certain that he will be obeyed.
Sean takes his cock in hand, eyes fastened to his lover’s, whose own cobalt eyes remain tightly focused on the scene before him—
And the memories come spilling forth like a torrential downpour…
The first time he became aware of how incredible his hand felt brushing against this mysterious appendage that he knew boys had and girls did not. He remembered how innocent those early days of self-discovery had been; having little to no idea that some would view this experimentation with loathing, regard it as something shameful…
Oh, it felt so good, the slow strokes, knowing that his lover watched his every move…
He wanted to close his eyes, to savor the feel of each ridge and vein, the hot velvet length in his grasp…but he dare not, though Viggo’s gaze is so intense, a deep mirror that reflects the image of him and holds him spellbound…
His mind travels long-ago paths –
…He remembered being fascinated by sex, curious about men and women – walking in on his parents in intimate embrace – fantasizing about his sixth form instructor whose name he’d long since forgotten…
…The ribald jokes shared with his mates, boasting of their conquests, mostly lies and bravado…the pride that kept him bragging about his prowess…
Oh yes, his first time with a woman – nervous yet eager, shy and yet so hungry to taste the molten lust that sang through his veins like blood. He remembered sinking into her wetness, as if he’d never stop until they were one and the same. Neither had the least idea what to do next, but primal instinct took over, though it seemed over before it had begun…
His touch becomes a drug…
And from somewhere else, the concept of sin and damnation – and Sean abruptly ceased his ministrations, frozen in time – remembering and not wanting to remember – the forced catechisms of a strict religious upbringing – the idea that the loving caresses of his body, the feel of a woman underneath him, would earn him eternal hellfire – that he was somehow tainted, impure, unclean…
But oh, not to touch meant an even fiercer fire that consumed…
“Did I tell you to stop,” Viggo’s low rasp brought Sean back to the here and now, those eyes narrowed.
And the fire burned anew, stronger and hotter now, as he prostrated himself on his knees in front of his new god, one less unforgiving of pleasure than the one he’d grown up with, if no less demanding of worship. He moved on himself again, seeing nothing else but those smoldering blue eyes, blue lightning striking him over and over…
…Panting, struggling, aroused and stretched thin… somewhere he finds his voice, desperate for release…
“Can I come, daddy?”
He waits, balanced between heaven and hell, watching the emotions play across Viggo’s face.
“I think not, little one. After all, I really haven’t seen much of a performance from you. I want to see you lose yourself, to let go of whatever shames you…I want to see you fuck your hand the way I fuck you.”
The seductive words spawn images of him and Viggo – the first time he became aware of his desire for the dark-haired actor. The nights alone when stray images of their bodies pressed close together –
Their first real kiss, tentatively initiated by him, only to find his mouth slowly claimed, then ravished as Viggo took him over…
The first time Viggo claimed his body – how he made Sean dance, the way his body danced for him now –
…Shaking, trembling, slick with sweat, throbbing – hearing nothing save the blood rushing to his ears and the frenzied beating of his heart.
Firmer strokes, faster strokes, surer strokes, all while those eyes burn him with the intensity of their stare. Sean begins to roll his hips, touching the tip of his tongue to his upper lip and smiling lasciviously as the sound of a strangled moan reached his ears…
The power…the power to make Viggo want him…
And with this realization, Sean comes alive, a sacred whore for his lover’s pleasure and delight – caressing the rosy pucker of his nipples, slow traverses up and down his chest, thrusting his lower body out to tease and torture the man whose eyes consume him –
Sucking his fingers, coating them with saliva to use the wetness to stroke himself once again, in time to some forbidden rhythm…
Oh yes, daddy, Sean says to Viggo silently with his eyes, I know my power…I can feel it, and I see what it does to you…
His hand pumps faster now, thrusting into his hand the way Viggo thrusts into him…
He coats the other hand in saliva, then eases it down the crease, opening himself up and slowly pushes a finger in, impaling himself…
“That’s it, little one,” Viggo groans, “Give it all to me…”
And Sean does, another finger joins the first and he’s losing control fast, riding the wave…his wicked fingers striking that place inside of him that always sends him hurtling towards the edge…
Back and forth, thrusting and impaling…
“Daddy, please…”
Viggo stands, kneels, releases the taut leather that binds him, his breath hot against Sean’s face…
“Come for me…now…”
Without taking his eyes away, Sean explodes, swallowing his lover in his fathomless green eyes, showing him every moment of release, bathing the leather of his pants in his come…
Silence reigns.
Wordlessly, Viggo lifts Sean’s hand, coated in hot semen, takes it into his mouth, licks it as if honey, and then kisses Sean, intermingling their flavors within the heated caverns of their mouths.
And as they kiss, Sean feels something sliding cool around his throat, hears the click as it’s locked into place…
“Mine,” Viggo whispers.
Summary: Sean wants to wear Viggo's collar.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: KinkChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 2834 Read: 980
Published: 30 Jul 2009 Updated: 30 Jul 2009