Viggo was already in bed reviewing Grahame's notes for the morning shoot when someone started pounding on the hall door. "Oy," said Sean, his voice whisky-hoarse. "Open the door."
Setting his notes aside, Viggo kicked off the bedcovers and reached for his boxers, discarded in a heap on the other pillow. "Hold on a sec," he called.
"I mean it, Vig," Sean said, pounding away.
Viggo opened the door. "So do I."
Sean was clad in his underwear and a loose Blades hoodie; Viggo checked to confirm that his friend had, in his rush, taken his own room key.
"What's up?" Viggo asked, leaning his shoulder against the open door. "I thought we'd said 'good night.'"
"Can I come in?" Sean replied. His face was flushed, and his eyes looked wine dark in the hall's dim light. "I won't stay long."
"Sure," said Viggo, stepping aside and shutting the door behind him.
"You've got to stop taking the piss," Sean growled. Viggo folded his arms and waited, hoping Sean would give him some details. "You can't just kiss a roomful o' blokes like it doesn't mean anything."
"But it doesn't. Instead of shaking hands, I kiss the guys. I even kissed you."
"You can't do that," said Sean.
"Look, I'm sorry," Viggo replied, trying to be reasonable. "If it bothers you, I won't-"
"I'm not proud," Sean said, stepping away from the door and sitting down in the room's one guest chair. Viggo watched him go, then sat down on his bed: quarters were tight, and they sat almost knee to knee.
"But I can't help it," his visitor continued. "I can't watch you kiss them like it doesn't mean anything."
"Umm, Sean, I.."
"I want it to mean something," Sean muttered, his body twisted as if in pain. "When you kiss me, I. . ."
'But you're . . . you're straight,' Viggo wanted to say, gaping at his friend. 'Aren't you?'
Sean looked up at Viggo, his eyes shaded by their lashes. As Viggo sat there, jaw working, Sean sighed. "Like I said, I have no pride. I just . . . I couldn't keep it in any more."
Viggo had finally found his voice. "What are you saying?"
"It means something to me, every time you kiss me. I get a rush, like; 'makes me dizzy."
"Is that a good thing?"
Sean slouched back in his chair, legs splayed. "'You tell me. 'Cause if you don't feel the same way, I've probably lost a friend."
"Help me out," said Viggo. "If I got up and kissed you now, what would happen?"
"'Depends. What I'd like to have happen would be we'd get into it, move the kiss from cheek to mouth - and some -ongue - and then, maybe, even to bed." Sean clapped one hand over his eyes. "Did I mention I've got no pride?"
"I've got an idea," Viggo smiled. "Why don't you come join me on the bed - it'd save us a step."
"'Lazy?" Sean said, fingers slitted. "I would never've guessed."
He got up and joined Viggo at the end of the bed, just far enough away so that Vig would have to lean over to snog him. "What's it mean," he murmured, "when you kiss the guys?"
"It's just a greeting," Viggo explained.
"And does it mean anything different when you kiss me?"
"It might. I, er. Look. I feel pretty foolish, not knowing how this was affecting you. I really wasn't coming on to anyone - coming on to you - so. . . I was just, you know, being friendly."
"And now?"
Viggo rested a hand on Sean's and pressed it gently into the mattress. "Now . . . now I think I'd like to kiss you - 'see where it leads."
The first kiss was tentative, grazing Sean's cheek. He turned in to Viggo's mouth, to the tongue that licked dry lips, and there was that dependable rush, harbinger of what Sean was beginning to think might be an unassuageable hunger. Viggo's hand came up to card through Sean's beard, tracing the line of Sean's jaw, anchoring both men until Sean pulled away, pulled them both down, and his arms threaded through Viggo's to hold him in place.
"How's that?" Viggo breathed, inhaling the faint scent of Sean's shampoo.
"'Brilliant."
Thus encouraged, Viggo's other hand slipped under Sean's sweatshirt and along the sensitive skin of his friend's belly. The callused pads of Viggo's fingertips could read every tremor in that soft skin and fine hair, and Viggo grinned at Sean's involuntary thrust against him, the welcome mass of his friend's groin.
"I've been wanting to do this," he admitted, so softly that Sean could scarcely hear him. "'Didn't think you'd want to, though, so I. . ."
"'Since the day we met," Sean assured him. "'Didn't think I had a chance."
Viggo was hard against him, and Sean relaxed their embrace so that his fingers could brush the outline of his friend's cock through the distended cotton. Viggo's muffled moan against his throat was most satisfactory.
"'Saw you changing, once," Viggo mumbled. "'Looking good."
"Since you're such a show-off," Sean replied, "I've seen you in the buff several times. I've, uh, had more than one wank, picturing it."
Viggo groaned, imagining Sean stretched out on his bed, his fist around that impressive cock, the muscles in his thighs tightening and then relaxing as he sped to a climax. "Fuck," he sighed, and Sean laughed.
"That's the idea, mate."
Viggo sat back, his nipples hard on that gently heaving chest and belly, erection tugging at his boxers, and helped Sean pull the sweatshirt over his head. Sean's chest was paler, and less hairy; his pink nipples stood out in contrast. The two men examined one another - Sean's powerful shoulders and that narrow waist, Viggo's scarred hands and strong thighs - for the first time able to do so without reserve.
Their eyes roamed inevitably below the other man's waistband. Viggo had tucked one leg beneath the other knee, and his cock was nestled against his left hip. Sean's briefs left nothing to the imagination: Viggo could make out the plump head and the thick body pulsing at his groin.
Viggo made the first move, balancing on one buttock as he tugged his boxers off. Sean lay back to shuck his underwear, then rolled to the middle of the bed to join Vig.
This time Sean was on top. His friend's erection was damp at Sean's thigh, and he thrust so that they both felt a delicious pressure in their loins. "What now?" he whispered, then tugged at Viggo's earlobe with careful teeth.
"Anything," Viggo replied, wrapping a leg around his friend's calf.
"'You got condoms? Or is that moving too fast?"
"Oh, yeah, I've got condoms. Lube, too."
"Could I," Sean murmured, huskily, "could I blow you? And, then - I'd really like to fuck you, Vig; I dream about it."
"Now you tell me," Viggo gasped. "They're in the bathroom - the cabinet."
"I'll try to remember that," said Sean, sitting back on his haunches.
His big hand closed for the first time on Viggo's cock, memorizing the silken strength of his lover's erection. Sean brought his face close, so he could inhale the musk of Viggo's balls as his fingers caressed his friend's thigh. His mouth opened around the crown, and his teeth imprisoned the underside as the tip of his tongue daubed the slit. After a moment, Sean let Viggo's cock slide in deeper until the head hit the back of his throat. He pulled back, letting Vig's penis rub luxuriously against his tongue's rough surface, then, slowly, he began to suck, moving his head back and forth.
His nose registered the tang of Viggo's semen; his ears rang with the sound of his lover's gasping pleas. Sean's palm cupped his friend's balls, which tightened against his touch. Vig's cock was stretching his lips, and sweat started to pour down Sean's face, stinging his closed eyes. Then their cadence changed, with Viggo bucking beneath him, mumbling out a warning Sean had no intention of taking, until he called out, his orgasm powerful enough to half-choke his lover.
Viggo fell apart, shaking, one hand on his breastbone as he fought for breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, only opening them when he felt the bed dip and Sean settling down next to him.
"That wasa33;" Viggo had to clear his throat before he could continue. "Shit. That was incredible."
Sean grinned, holding out both hands, palms up, to show Viggo the condoms and lube. "I guess so a33; you dropped right off."
Viggo made a movement like a shrug. "It's late a33; after something like that, I'm entitled." Frowning, Sean set the box of condoms on the bed and glanced at his own lap.
Viggo was finding it easier and easier to read his friend. "Luckily," he added, "it looks like you'll be doing most of the heavy lifting while I get my second wind."
"'Bloody well hope so," Sean grinned, showing off dimples Viggo was sure he had never seen before.
"I don't think you have anything to worry about," said Viggo, letting his fingers brush Sean's erection. He concentrated on shifting on the mattress so that Sean could kneel in front of him. "I wouldn't want to disappoint you," he added, coyly, setting the soles of his feet firmly on the bed, his knees splayed.
Sean reached for the lube, saying: "Even if you fell asleep and stayed asleep, I wouldn't be disappointed."
Viggo couldn't help asking: "Is thisa33;? How serious is a33; are you?"
He lubed up his fingers before replying. "'Doesn't have to be serious. Although," he instantly equivocated, "I'd still hate seeing you kiss the other blokes, so. . . What about you?"
"A few minutes ago I was all set to go to sleep, and it had never occurred to me we might have a shot at, well, anything. We're already friends, though, and there's been this attraction all along for me - and for you. . . I don't know, to be honest. At the moment, it seems like a dream. What if, in the morning, we got up and I kissed you? Not like the others, but on the lips? Seriously?"
"I wouldn't punch you," Sean said, a finger waiting between Viggo's legs, "if that's what you're asking. It might still seem like a fantasy to me, too, truth be told."
"And the sex could be terrible." Viggo murmured, as Sean's first finger slid in.
"Shut up," Sean grinned; "I'm working here. And I seriously doubt sex with you could be terrible."
"I snore, you know."
Sean added a second finger. "Me, too. You could blow up Helm's Deep next to me bed and I wouldn't even notice."
"What else? I'm a slob - about some things, at least."
"I'd noticed. And I like to muck about and then not tidy things up right away."
"The ex-wife thing won't work on you, will it?"
Sean laughed: Viggo's body was responding to his careful preparations. "Obviously not. You should meet the current soon-to-be ex - lovely girl, but mad."
"So, you're really serious?" said Viggo. "I mean, you're not necessarily looking for a quick fuck?"
"Right," Sean replied. "Nothing's certain, mind, but I've been wanting to do this with you for weeks - and, after all, we've been through a lot already, working on the film. This is just another layer in our relationship. Or summat."
Viggo watched as Sean donned the condom. "You're very convincing, talking about relationships."
"I've had a lot of practice, mate. And let me tell you, women are from Jupiter and men are from Mars, which is why-"
"'Why this is such a good idea."
"'Bloody good idea. But not the only one."
Sean's hands came up behind Viggo's knees, bracing them both, and he pressed slowly between Vig's legs until he was all the way in and resting against his lover's ass. Tears formed in Viggo's eyelashes as he became accustomed to Sean's size, the searing pain real but momentary, and his friend spent the time nuzzling his cheeks and mouth. "God," Viggo said, finally, pushing back weakly. "You're fucking huge."
"It's enough," Sean replied complacently. "You feel bloody amazing."
Hands palm down on the bed, he began to thrust, gently at first but, in response to Viggo's muttered commands, more and more forcefully. "I could get used to this," he said, and both men heard the faintest proprietary note in his voice.
"I could, too," Viggo replied, still startled at the sudden turn his life was taking.
He was hard again, his cock slapping against their bellies with each one of Sean's thrusts.
"So close," Sean hissed, and Viggo could feel it: already big to begin with, Sean's cock felt impossibly thick, impossibly hard, and the more Viggo took the more Sean seemed to have. He nearly bit his tongue when one of Sean's hands found his erection and began pumping, his lover's voice coaxing and urgent. "'Too soon," he protested, but then Sean was coming, groaning against Viggo's neck, his hand slick with sweat and Viggo's second release.
"You know, it's my birthday," Viggo murmured, as Sean cleaned them up with a towel.
"I know it is," said Sean. "You're about six months older than me, old man."
"'Old man?' I'll 'old man' you."
Sean slid under the bedclothes with Viggo. "I'd like to see you try."
2004
"'You know what today is?" asked Sean; although he was in London and not Toronto, he might have been next door.
Viggo grinned: no boring salutations, as usual. "Our anniversary."
"I never can surprise you," Sean complained.
"It helps that it coincides with that other important anniversary."
"Eh? What important anniversary? What could be more important than our fifth bloody anniversary?"
Viggo glanced over at the bedside clock. It was 12:03 a.m. in Ontario, which made it early in Islington. "I don't know. It could be the one that makes me, for six months of the year, an entire year older than.."
"Oh, that anniversary!" his lover cried. "You should've said so - it's my favourite holiday of the year."
"I figured," Viggo said dryly. "It's why you're up at the crack of dawn, bothering me with.."
"Oh, that," Sean replied, dismissing one whole line of thought. "But, listen, luv: Are you anywhere near a bed?
Viggo grinned, reaching for the remote control and thumbing off the television. "As it happens, I am."
"Oh, good," Sean said, his voice sliding into its boudoir register. "So, tell me, what are you wearing? Nothing, I hope. . ."
Summary: Viggo is ready for bed; Sean joins him there.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 2455 Read: 920
Published: 16 Aug 2009 Updated: 16 Aug 2009