He'd never been able to sleep with someone touching him. Even when he had been married, any body part touching his own was enough to wrench him awake and he'd be forced to roll over in an attempt to escape, snarling mentally about damned bed hogs.
So while the hand rubbing his back really felt marvelous, he couldn't help resenting that it had woken him up to do it. He squirmed, trying to inform the rubbee without words that their attempts were not appreciated but it was too late. Yawning, Sean rolled over and sat up, free himself from that fucking hand and...
He blinked, abruptly wide awake as he recalled that no one else had been in his bed when he'd gotten in it earlier that night, and there still wasn't. Instead, the hand's owner was sitting in a chair next to his bed and it didn't take so much as a squint to see who it was.
"Viggo?" he asked, disbelievingly. "What are you doing here?" He wasn't mad so much as confused, and a little worried. Viggo was just sitting there, his hands hanging limply between his knees. "Viggo?" Sean repeated, perplexed. "It's four in the bloody morning and we've got to be on set at seven. Are you all right?"
The chair creaked as Viggo shifted his weight. "I had a dream," he said simply, like that explained all. For Viggo, it probably did.
"Yeah? About what?" Might as well play along. He wasn't going to get much sleep otherwise. Probably wouldn't anyway; he'd only gotten back to New Zealand the day before, and his body was still insisting it was in a different time zone.
"I'm not sure." Viggo was speaking slowly, like he was considering each word before he spoke it. "I know you were there and every time I tried to touch you, you faded away."
"Oh." Sean was nonplussed. "So you came over here to make sure I'd not fade away?" he tried, warily. This whole situation was odd; a shadowy Viggo sitting next to him, the room so quiet and the dark shapes of his things looming out against the night-grayed walls.
"Yeah. I think I did."
Odd, yeah, and odder yet when Viggo touched him again, both hands cupping Sean's cheeks and the raspy scrape of his beard against Viggo's fingers was obscenely loud. His lips were something else entirely, hot and rough, uncaring about anything as mundane as Sean's sleep-dry mouth and he was on Sean, their legs tangling together through the sheets before he could even consider a protest.
Not that he wanted to, he admitted. He'd never pretended to be the shiniest spoon in the drawer but only a complete idiot would turn away from this, Viggo sucking his tongue into his mouth and nibbling on the tip. Hard, heavy weight against him, rocking him against the bed and it felt brilliant.
He yelped into Viggo's mouth, startled, when his hands slid lower, groping between his legs and he wondered dimly just how long Viggo had been feeling him up before he'd woken.
"I want to make sure you're here," Viggo mumbled, his words blurred against the base of Sean's throat, and he sucked the spot briefly, pulling up a flash of memory, of wearing collared shirts for three days to cover another mark.
"Don't you dare...ah...Viggo...fuck!" he hissed, thrashing madly when Viggo slid lower, sharp teeth catching one of his nipples and biting down, sending a bright flower of pain to ripple up his spine, and fuck, Viggo was completely crackers.
They'd had a bit of a grope before he'd gone home, nice enough. Not much more than a little touchy. But that was all right; mates did that sometimes. Close mates, anyway, ones who wouldn't pop you in the nose for it before going to take a soak in bleach.
Even close mates didn't usually break into your house and try to bugger you at four in the bloody morning, though, and he thought he might have to put Viggo into a different category. Wasn't sure which one but it must be somewhere past close mates. Probably Viggo needed a category of his own; the arrogant bastard would never be happy having to share one with someone else.
Maybe it was because it was so early or that Viggo was so warm, so utterly excited, biting and tasting, and licking just everywhere, and it was so easy to obey those shaking hands, damp palms against his hips. Easy to roll over and let Viggo snug in behind him, the zipper of his jeans cold and rough against Sean's arse.
Fumbling sounds behind him, then cool, slick fingers rubbing against him, pushing inside and touching places that made Sean tremble and gasp, burying his face in the pillow to muffle the sounds. Maybe it was just inevitable that he'd get on his knees for Viggo, even if he could have found the right words for no. Didn't want to though, not at all, and there were two fingers sliding into his arse, stretching him then pulling out far too quickly. Viggo was moving around behind him and Sean could hear the purr of a zipper before he collapsed back down on Sean, legs still encased in denim.
"Don't fade away," Viggo murmured hotly, a rush of breath tickling Sean's ear, and he pushed in with one hard thrust.
"Ah, fuck," Sean moaned, and it bloody well hurt, the harsh stretch of Viggo's cock sinking into him without pause, and Viggo's groan was painfully loud in his ear.
"Stay here?" he pleaded, softly, fucking nutters, he was, but Sean's dick didn't give a damn. Viggo was rocking slowly against him, inside him, stinging hot pain but it was good too, fucking brilliant, and Sean shoved back against him, pushing up on his elbows to get some leverage. It was almost as good as a written invitation and Viggo took it as one, putting a little force behind his next thrust and when Sean shuddered in appreciation, harder still.
Viggo's jeans rubbed warm friction against Sean's naked thighs, barely worth a thought and the bed was creaking now, embarrassingly loud and rhythmic, and perfectly in tune with the little sounds Viggo was making, low, frantic sounds, his fingers digging into Sean's hips and later there would be little crescent-shaped bruises to quickly hide when changing into his costume.
So fucking good, Viggo ramming into him, almost enough, so fucking close, "Come ON, you bastard," Sean growled, trying and failing to move on his own, "You wanted it, so fucking DO it!"
A sharp slap on his arse made him gasp in surprise and sent a brilliant blurt of heat right to his cock. Viggo was fucking him like the maniac he was, hard and marvelously selfish. His little grunts taking on a note of desperation and Sean would be damned to hell before he let Viggo shag him silly and not get anything out of it. He managed to get a hand free and between his own legs, stripping his cock viciously, trying to finish before Viggo vanished on him.
"Ohhhh...oh...oh...oh...Sean." Nearly a fucking whimper, Viggo's hips snapping forward. "Don't...don't go...stay..."
"Not going anywhere, you wanker....ah, fuck!" Sean groaned, coming hard and spattering the sheets beneath him. Noisy bastard that he was, Viggo nearly howled when he came, pushing in hard enough that Sean swore he could taste it, jerking wildly before slumping down on Sean and knocking the breath out of him.
The bed was like a fucking bog, swampy-wet with sweat and come, and Sean was lying right in the middle of it. He twisted hard and dumped Viggo off his back, nearly sending him to the floor. Viggo caught himself just in time and gave Sean a glare that might have been more effective if it hadn't been on so smug a face.
"That wasn't half bad," he yawned, oblivious to Sean gaping it him.
"Bastard," Sean said automatically. He was sore as hell and sticky, his sheets were a mess, and all he got was a not half bad? While his orgasm-fogged mind tried to work a comeback out of that, another thought occurred to him. "So this dream of yours required you to bring a tube of KY while you made sure I was alive, eh?" he asked dryly, sitting on a dry spot near the head of his bed and crossing his arms over his chest.
Viggo, who was apparently less concerned about the mess than he was, stripped of his jeans before dragging the blankets over him. He snagged the best pillow and pulled the blankets up to his chin before he nodded, sleepily.
"Yep. Had to make sure you were really there," Viggo mumbled, eyes closed.
Sean blew out an impatient breath. Why did such a good shag have to come with such a bastard, he lamented. The soft neon glow of the clock announced that it was nearly five, and Sean decided he might as well get up and take a shower, and rinse away at least the outer layer of sex. His arse was complaining it would never be the same, but he thought it might be exaggerating. And he really thought he was spending too much time around crazy people, as well.
He'd barely pushed the sheets back when a hand caught his arm, stilling him.
"Stay?" Softer, quieter than before.
"Viggo, the bed is a mess."
"Stay anyway?" Softer still. "Please?"
Sean sighed and sank back into the bed, wrinkling his nose. "You're nutters, you know that."
"You love it."
"I just might at that," Sean said agreeably, moving until he was comfortable, Viggo's head beneath his chin. He fell back asleep, inhaling the warm saltiness of sex from the blankets, from Viggo, and until the howl of the alarm clock woke them both, he stayed.
Summary: Sequel to "Nicotine and Coffee".
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 1650 Read: 859
Published: 16 Aug 2009 Updated: 16 Aug 2009
Story Notes:
Website: The Lair of the Evil Bitches