Viggo is nearly asleep when he hears Sean come in, but he rouses himself enough to put his book on the nightstand and clear three other books from Sean's side of the bed. He closes his eyes again and snuggles into the pillow, deciding a quick nap until Sean makes it to the bedroom would be okay.
Footsteps, quick, purposeful footsteps sound in the hall, and Viggo raises himself on an elbow in time to see Sean pass through the door, shrugging off his jacket as he enters the room. Viggo opens his mouth to ask what's up, but a quick glance at the green fire in Sean's eyes and the straining material of Sean's immaculate trousers tells him all he needs to know. He sits up, pushes the sheet down to his waist.
Sean whisks off his bowtie and belt at the same time, one in each hand, and Viggo half-expects him to tear his shirt open, buttons be damned - there are still a few strays under the bed from the aftermath of the Hidalgo premieres - but his hands suddenly gentle. He undoes each button carefully, even putting the black tuxedo studs on the bureau. Cufflinks next, and he slides the carnelian knots from each wrist slowly, pressing a kiss to each ornament. Viggo's mouth goes dry at that. Sean had picked up that habit after Viggo had given him his first present, a small stone pendant that, when Sean had asked Viggo to fasten it around his neck (claiming clumsy fingers), had given Sean all the opportunity he'd needed to kiss Viggo breathless that first time. In makeup the next day, Sean had kissed the stone in front of Viggo when he took it off for filming (with fingers more than nimble). It had made Viggo hard that day, and if he hadn't already been hot as hell from the look on Sean's face, it would have made him hard again.
Sean finally peels off his shirt and drops it to the floor, then kneels on the edge of the bed and crawls toward Viggo. The black line of his trousers against the light, smooth skin, the golden fall of hair on the back of Sean's neck, all make Viggo want to lunge forward and tackle Sean to the bed, but the predatory look in Sean's eyes holds Viggo fast, helpless to do anything but tighten his fingers on the sheet and lick his lips in anticipation.
Sean stops short of actually touching Viggo and pulls the sheet down, down, letting the top edge skate over Viggo's cock and thighs, down his calves, until Viggo's body is uncovered to the night air and Sean's hands. Sean slides up Viggo's body, snugging one leg between Viggo's and kissing him softly, quickly, before pulling away.
"How was the symphony?" Viggo breathes against Sean's lips.
Sean shifts so that his cock, encased in Italian silk, presses against Viggo's. "Carmina Burana. 'O Fortuna,' Vig. Carmina," another kiss, "Burana."
Viggo sucks in a breath and moves his arms to pull Sean tighter to him, but Sean catches his hands and holds them at Viggo's sides.
"Patience, love. Let me tell you about the symphony since you couldn't be there." Sean dips his head to lick the curve of Viggo's ear until he moans and his hands relax. Sean bites down on his earlobe gently before whispering, "It starts off so softly you're not even sure it has started. Just a whisper of voices and strings." His fingertips glide up the outside of Viggo's leg, barely touching skin at all. It's more like feeling the tickle of radiating heat from Sean's fingers than the actual sensation of skin on skin. His lips seem to get closer, breath warmer against Viggo's ear, but they don't touch.
"The build is slow, adagio." Sean's left hand follows the same path on Viggo's left leg and turns at its apex at his hip, crossing his stomach, and carries on over Viggo's nipple and down his arm to the inside of his wrist. Sean bends and presses a kiss to the pulsepoint, laves it with light strokes of his tongue. "Adagio."
Sean works his trousers open one-handed while his other hand starts at Viggo's other wrist and moves up, crossing his chest, pausing only to circle a nipple twice with his thumb, chase it with his tongue while he inches the trousers past his hips. He kneels back, skins out of them quickly, and moves back up to kneel over Viggo again.
Viggo's hand flies to Sean's hip, pushing him down, but Sean is resolute.
"The music builds not only slowly, but softly, love, pianissimo, for measures and measures. You think it's never going to get past that sweet, torturous chant." He leans down again, licks Viggo's lips, tracing their outline then moving down over his neck to flick his tongue into the hollow of Viggo's throat. Viggo arches, bares himself to the maddening licks. "But the tension is there, though, heavy in the spaces between breaths." Sean's hips drop for a moment, and Viggo isn't sure it's intentional on Sean's part, but for his, he doesn't care because the warm weight of Sean's cock against his, finally skin on skin, is bliss.
"So good," and Sean's mouth seeks his again, "You feel, you taste so good." Sean's voice is still a whisper and Viggo can't believe how sexy that is, how palpably arousing their quietness. They've got a big house, no neighbors, and a general penchant for seeing just how much sound they can elicit from each other. But this is amazing, this completely fraught quiet. And Viggo can't wait until it snaps.
"Pianissimo, piano" Sean mouths against Viggo's chest, "to mezzo piano, still soft, still slow, but the crescendo is there. Waiting." He bites down on Viggo's nipple while he reaches for the lube. He slicks his hand without looking, attention focused on the hot insistence of Viggo against him.
Viggo surges up into Sean when he notices the lube, pleading with his whole wracked body. Finally, the cool glide of Sean's hand is between them, wrapped around them both, but his fingers are loose, touch still light.
"Sean, please." Viggo arches harder and clutches Sean's hips with both hands. The brief press and slide are delicious, and Sean's cool front finally shows a crack. His bright eyes close and a low, panted moan escapes, but the moment is short. His eyes open and his voice is nearly steady on Viggo's ear again.
"Drives you crazy, doesn't it? Just waiting, waiting, wanting the music to hit hard like each exhalation of sound promises it will." His grip on their cocks tightens, holding firm and - oh Christ, finally - he makes one long stroke up, then down and Viggo is so grateful and then Sean stops. Absolutely still. "And you think you'll wait forever to hear it. And you would, because the music wants you to. Commands you to wait. Wait, Viggo." Another slow stroke. Viggo moans into the side of Sean's neck, every muscle straining, every nerve thrumming with want. "And when you're sure you'll go mad, raving, writhing, achingly mad if the wave doesn't crash, it does."
Sean's teeth sink into Viggo's earlobe, his hand tightens even more around them, and he strokes down hard, up again, mouth working down Viggo's neck. Viggo cries out when Sean sucks, bites at the underside of his jaw, and he lifts his legs, wraps them around Sean's hips, holding him fast so he can't pull away, can't stop again. His fingers dig into Sean's back and he pushes up into Sean's mouth, into his fist, trying to thrust but held too tightly.
The pace of hands and mouth is vicious, getting faster, harder on each downstroke and each bite. Viggo moans, low, and Sean looks up from Viggo's collarbone. Viggo strains upward, moves a hand to tangle in Sean's hair and pulls him up to crush an open-mouthed, sound-filled kiss to Sean's lips. Fortissimo. And Sean's coming, frantic, grinding down into Viggo, crying out, and Viggo's coming hard into Sean's hand.
Sean's lips touch his, gentle again, and he grins sheepishly at Viggo before lowering himself to rest against his lover's chest. They lay there for a while, letting breathing steady and enjoying the mess they've made before the long walk to the shower.
Standing under the warm spray, Sean washes Viggo, kissing each lovebite and massaging still-quivering muscles. When the strokes across Viggo's lower back start drifting lower, curving around Viggo's hips and smoothing the nest of curls, Viggo turns, laughing.
"Sean, it's past one in the morning. And we're old."
Sean snorts, runs his hands up Viggo's thighs. "You're old. I'm horny. You should be used to this by now."
"I'm sorry, but I'm still trying to process the fact that every time you go to the symphony, you come home hard and desperate for it. I don't mind, of course, but you," he kisses Sean on the forehead, "are not normal."
"Says the mad artist. But normal or not, there it is. And it would be better if you'd come with me." Sean turns Viggo again and slides his lips across Viggo's back as he sinks to his knees.
"If I come with you, we'd both end up in jail. You stroked me off during Pirates of Penzance. In an opera box. I was wearing a rented tuxedo."
"It were amazing, weren't it?" A kiss on each vertebra, leading down.
"Yeah," Viggo admits, leaning forward to brace himself against the shower wall. "But . . ."
"You should have been there tonight, Vig. It was everything I could do to keep from stroking myself off. I had to hold me program in front of me trousers on the way out. Almost had to wank in the car, but I wanted to share this with you." Sean's tongue dips lower, licking broad, flat stripes before circling, pushing in with short thrusts.
Viggo gasps, legs shaking. " 'O Fortuna.' "
Summary: Sean comes home from the symphony.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 1675 Read: 827
Published: 16 Aug 2009 Updated: 16 Aug 2009