Prologue - Christmas Eve
The final customers had been borne off on a festive wave of alcohol and well-being, just before Midnight and Barry sighed with relief as he turned over the closed sign and locked the door.
Everybody was looking forward to having Christmas Day off with their loved ones and now they gathered together to toast each other and share their evening meal together as usual, pleased to be able to finally take the weight off their feet.
The restaurant had gone from strength to strength and a busy year was coming to a very satisfactory end. The arrival of Viggo as sous chef and his insinuation into Sean Fucking Bean’s life had definitely had a subtle, mellowing effect on Chef, but he still ran a very tight and disciplined kitchen and the language was often as salty as the anchovies in brine.
Viggo had insisted on putting Niños Envuettas on the menu, as a tribute to his childhood in Argentina and these thin rolls of steak, filled with meat, spices, chopped hard-boiled eggs and onions of had gone down very well with people already sick to death of turkey.
Sceptical at first, Sean had grudgingly conceded that his Yorkshire customers had not proved quite as hidebound and traditional as he had thought, even at Christmas and the menu had continued to carry the varied fish and vegetarian dishes that Viggo had sneakily introduced, with his approval.
Now, as Sean presided at the head of the table, raised his glass of champagne to toast his staff and thank them for their hard work and distribute the Christmas gifts, Barry noticed that he was a little more eager to get away than usual.
He grinned. Chef had certainly had a lucky day, when Viggo had tuned up for his interview. Viggo had turned out to be his sous-chef-cum-lover-cum soul mate and much as he loved to tease Chef and wind him up, much as Sean liked to swear and growl and pretend to be exasperated, Barry was in no doubt about the deep affection between the two of them. This would be their first Christmas together and it was clear that Sean didn’t want to hang around here any longer than was necessary.
As soon as was politely possible, Sean stood and told the staff to have a wonderful, relaxing Christmas Day, just as he would, “with NO fucking cooking”.
“But Chef,” chimed in Viggo innocently,”I’ll be so disappointed if you don’t cook for me. I was expecting the full Christmas Dinner with all the trimmings. You promised me a Christmas to remember.”
Sean rolled his eyes heavenward,
“I must have been very wicked in a previous life. Not only do I get aggravation from you all day at work, but I get to take you home with me for more ear-bashing. Now say ‘Goodnight’ to these good people and let’s go home. It’s already Christmas Day.”
He grabbed his fleece and walked to the door, carrying the big joint present from the staff, which they had forbidden him to open until morning, while Viggo walked behind him and turned to wink at his colleagues, as he reached up and snagged the bunch of mistletoe hanging over the door.
As the door shut behind them, Jane started to giggle,
“I reckon they’ll both get a Christmas to remember. Let’s drink to Chef and Viggo!”
Viggo
Breakfast Menu on Christmas Day
Chilled Champagne and fresh orange juice
Bagels with cream cheese and smoked salmon
Blinis with sour cream and caviar
Last night, by the time we’d walked home after a busy day, which had started at dawn, we had only had the energy to shower communally, but relatively chastely and fall into bed.
Now I am wide awake early and sliding myself out of bed, while Sean is still sleeping, so as to be able to bring him a special Christmas Day breakfast in bed.
I sneak into the bathroom as quietly as I can and tiptoe down to the kitchen to make my preparations. ‘No fucking cooking’ he said, but I don’t need to cook any of my ingredients. I only have to thaw out the extra large bagels I baked and hid in the freezer and that doesn’t count.
By the time I return to the bedroom, Sean is sitting up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He pauses in mid yawn, when he sees me, but rubs his eyes a little more.
I am wearing only my ‘horny Santa’ hat on my head and my belt, to which I have attached the bunch of mistletoe on a curving wire, so that it hangs strategically over my cock,
“Ho, ho, ho, little boy, “I say, setting down my laden tray on the night stand and crawling up the bed,” have I got a surprise for you! What do you want first, breakfast, presents or sinful Santa?”
Sean leans forward to kiss me under the mistletoe,
“To tell the truth, I want a pee first. Let me up, you stupid fucker!”
“Looks to me as if you are up already, but I’ll let you go to the bathroom. Hurry up, or the champagne will get warm!”
Sean does hurry into the bathroom and I start to sip my champagne and orange juice, while lying on the bed, stroking myself and idly wondering what is in the gaily wrapped boxes under the tree in the living room.
“That’s a sight for Christmas Day, I must say!”
He is back and I snigger and spit out a mouthful of Buck’s Fizz, as he is now wearing a plush hat like an upended oven-ready turkey,
“Don’t think you are the only silly sod, who has stupid hats. Your Susan gave me this, as she thought it appropriate for a chef.”
“Come here and let me baste you!” I invite. He joins me on the bed and takes a glass from me,
“A trifle more Fizz than Buck, I think!”
“Shut up. We’re not in your kitchen now!” I take a mouthful of champagne from the bottle and kiss him, transferring it to his mouth.”
He wriggles and his cock bobs against my thigh, so I take another mouthful and engulf him.
“Fuck, them bubbles tickle! Nice, though. I think I’ll have breakfast first, then pressies.”
I push him onto his back, so he has to hurriedly drink his Buck’s Fizz and lose the glass on his way down. Once he is flat, I take a couple of blinis spread with sour cream and topped with caviar and place them on his nipples, putting another over his navel and reaching for half a bagel.
“Keep still,” I warn him, as I carefully push the half over his erect cock.
“I always wondered what the hole in a bagel were for.”
“Well now you know,” I say, as I spread cream cheese on the bagel, top it with salmon and carefully add the other half,” now stop sniggering, you are making your stomach wobble.”
I begin to eat my breakfast, blinis first, while Sean curls his fingers into the sheets trying to keep still, torn between laughter and lust.
“It seems like you’re the only one getting breakfast.”
“You just said you wanted breakfast, Chef, and you got it! You didn’t specify who would eat it,” I point out as I start nibbling the bagel, delicately holding his cock around the base. “You…should…be… gratified that I had to bake extra large bagels to get a big enough hole!”
Sean has had enough of my teasing and he lets out a mighty roar, so I give up on the bagel and attend to him properly, making him come relatively quickly, bucking up his hips and showering me, him and the bed with crumbs.
“You know I think I have fallen in love with a raving nutcase,” Sean sighs, when his shudders have subsided and his breathing has approached something like normal.
“This from a man with a turkey on his head and a bagel around his dick!”
Sean sits up and actually eats a bagel and some blinis from a plate,
“You are so boringly conventional, Sean,” I sigh.
“Is that right? Well I am going to take a conventional shower and fetch your presents, while you conventionally strip this messy bed and put the sheets in the washing machine, nursing what I hope is a conventionally painful hard-on. No wanking, mind, or you won’t get what I’ve bought you! Santa has no presents for bad boys.”
He pauses to kiss me under the mistletoe again, “Merry Fucking Christmas, by the way,” he says.
Sean
Lunch Menu on Christmas Day
A chilled bottle of Pouilly Fumé
A dozen Whitstable Oysters
Black Truffle Pâté
Fig salad
Champagne granita with strawberries
Bresaola with rucola and Parmesan
Asparagus – cold with vinaigrette dressing
I sing a very loud – and very unmelodic, I confess – version of Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer while I shower, hoping that it will remind Viggo of his straining cock even more. I think he will appreciate my gift more when he’s aroused.
I towel myself dry carefully, but don’t bother to dress, as we plan to spend all day in bed anyway. Crouching by the tree to retrieve Viggo’s gift my eyes fall on the big box my staff gave me yesterday night, and which I vowed not to open until today. Since I am giving Viggo his gift now, I deserve a little something too I reckon, so I take both the big box, and Viggo’s smaller one with me to the bedroom.
The bed is made with fresh crisp linen and Viggo presides on it, still wearing his horny Santa hat. He looks at the small red and gold wrapped box I have in my right hand, but I shake my head, “No, “I say, “shower first for you too, you need to be clean for this.”
“I need to be clean for unwrapping a Christmas gift?” he asks incredulously, but heads to the bath room anyway. “Yes, and be thorough!” I shout after him.
I bought him his gift weeks ago, and was pretty sure he would love it, but now the moment is here I am starting to get just a little bit nervous about it. I am glad when he emerges from the bathroom and refrain from making a comment on the hat he obviously never took off, not even while showering.
He climbs on the bed and I hand him his gift. “No, you first Sean,” he says, propping up a pillow behind his back. Immediately I am suspicious, knowing all too well my staff will grab the opportunity to get back at me for things that have happened over the past few months. I tear off the paper and open the box, and then I curse, looking at the contents. I hold the box upside down so they fall out one by one, and I glare at Viggo, who’s shaking with laughter.
I pick up book after book; Jamie Oliver’s Ministry of Food, Nigella’s Food, Family, Friends, Festivities, Ainsley Harriott's Fresh and Fabulous Meals in Minutes, but worst of all Gordon Ramsey’s Make it Easy.
“Bloody fucking wankers,” I say to Viggo, “I will make them pay for that tomorrow,” and when he laughs even louder I grab his arm. “You made them do this, didn’t you? Bloody Gordon Fucking Ramsey, that’s an insult!”
“I did not Sean, I swear,” and he manages to look innocent. “Can I have my gift now?”
Still muttering I hand him the box, but then forget my wounded pride as he tears open the paper. He opens the little jeweller’s box and then looks at me questioningly. “Earrings?”
I chuckle, and take the box out of his hands. “No Vig, nipple rings,” and I hold out the hand crafted silver rings so he can see the design.
He takes them out of my hand and inspects them, “They are beautiful Sean, I love them.”
“If you want I will put them on you right now,” I say, and I shift a little as I feel my cock stirring at the idea.
“You will........? “Okay,” he says, "I trust you," and I open the drawer of the night stand and take out the little bottle with antiseptic, the cotton balls and the needle I put there right after I bought the rings. I light the candle on the nightstand and then dab cool liquid on his nipples, which pucker up immediately.
Viggo grabs the headboard with both hands and closes his eyes, while I hold the needle in the flame to sterilize it. I press the cork from the Champagne bottle to his right nipple, estimating the right place to pierce it.
” Will be done in a second Vig,” I promise,” then I’ll feed you some oysters,” and I lean in to lick his lips. He shivers, but his eyes are open now and he looks down at my hand pulling at his flesh. He keeps perfectly still, doesn’t even wince while I stab through the nub with the sharp end of the ring, then dab away the small trickle of blood. I clean it and then repeat the whole thing on his other nipple.
He slowly relaxes his grip from the headboard to peer down at his chest, “Fuck Sean,” he says, they’re beautiful, thank you so much.” He is panting and I know it has made him as horny as it has made me, so lean in to kiss the swollen nubs, “We’ll be careful with those in the coming days,” I say, “but when they are healed...” Then I bend down to kiss his throbbing cock and spread his thighs, pulling him down on the mattress.
“Gonna suck you Vig,” I say between licks, “and then I will feed you oysters, truffles, sorbet, strawberries and figs, until you’re ready for more. He groans and bucks up under my hands, his hands softly stroking his pierced flesh.
I let his cock slip out of my mouth looking up to him grinning.
“You’re up for dessert, Tinsel Tits.”
Viggo
Dessert Menu
Hot and saucy with added chocolate
Well, well! Sean can really surprise me sometimes and although his reaction to the cook books by his TV rivals is predictable and gratifying, I am stunned and thrilled by his gift to me. Did I mention that I am also incredibly turned on?
I didn’t understand why he wanted me to shower at first and as I stood in the stall, still wearing my Santa hat - Sean’s shower has a moveable head you can direct anywhere on your body, so it only got steamed a little – I was tempted to deal with my aching cock, but figured that patience would be rewarded.
The rings are beautiful and the prospect of Sean doing the piercing exciting beyond words. My adrenaline levels are so high and I am so aroused that with my eyes closed, I barely feel the needle entering first one and then the other nipple. His clever, efficient fingers work quickly and in minutes, I am able to open my eyes and look down at the finished job, entranced.
It seems that he is going to let me come before we eat and he slides down and takes my cock in his hot, wicked mouth. I moan as I can’t help touching my freshly pierced nipples and I am arching toward him, when the bastard stops and tells me I’m up for dessert!
*Sean Fucking Bean!*
He is very tickled by his new nickname for me and I glare at him in frustration, but start to feel more forgiving, as he pours us both a chilled glass of wine and begins to give me lunch.
“I can’t help noticing that your choice of foods are said to have aphrodisiac properties,” I remark as casually as you can with Sean Bean lying beside you and dipping an asparagus spear into vinaigrette, before suggestively biting into the stem and feeding the rest of it to you. “I can see that you may need a little help to get it up again, but it is very evident that I don’t any assistance in that direction. Please, Sean.”
“Please what, Viggo? Please give me another of these delectable, plump oysters? Oh, let me just catch that trickle of the liquor trickling down your chin. That dimple acts like a little reservoir. And as for your unpleasant insinuations, may I remind you that you haven’t come once and yet here am I up for a second round, or did you think this was a stick of Blackpool Rock digging in your hip?”
I savour the oyster and swallow the salty, slippery delight,
“But that is kind of my point, Sean. It is my turn.”
“Just clean your palate with this granita and try some of this truffle pâté. I had it flown in from The Périgord.”
“Isn’t that just East of Halifax? Mmm! That is good, but Sean, pleeeeease.”
He is chuckling again and says, “Okay, don’t get your nipples in a twist.”
Then he takes pity on me and treats my cock like the asparagus, drizzling it with vinaigrette, before delicately nibbling around the head and finally swallowing me whole, as I howl. Finally, I get to come explosively and cling on to him in gratitude and relief.
My chest rubbing against his reminds me that my nipples are still a little sore and I roll away. Sean’s cock is hard again and he looks at me expectantly,
“Dessert?”
“Oh yes. This will blow your mind, so I am going to secure you to the headboard first,” I tell him. “Otherwise you will float up to the ceiling!”
“Promises, promises! And I hate to mention it, but I’ve not had your present yet!”
“Oh, you’ll get it. Be patient, “I say nonchalantly, as I deftly tie his wrists to the bed head with the two silk scarves we keep for the purpose.
I leave the room, waggling my ass provocatively and deliberately take my time in fetching his present, which I have to put together in a corner of the bedroom.
“But what the fuck is it?” he whines.
“Wait and see!”
After an interval, he says disbelievingly,
“It’s a bloody great pole.”
“Clever boy!” I tell him and put on seductive music, before I start the dance routine I have been secretly practising with Carol. ”It’s Carmen Electra’s Home Pole Dancing kit, to be exact. Carol has been taking lessons. She got one of these for Neil. She’s been passing on her expertise to me.”
As I grip the pole and start to dance, Sean’s initial sneer turns to interest and the pink tip of his tongue comes out and wets his lips. I demonstrate my newly acquired repertoire of spins, climbs, aerials and inversions, giving Sean plenty of opportunity to watch my ass and I can tell from the corner of my eyes that I have his and his cock’s undivided attention.
By the time I complete the routine with a rather nifty dismount, Sean is groaning and straining vainly against his bonds, his empurpled cock weeping copiously.
“So I guess you liked the present?”
“It’s great, but Vig please,” he begs.
“Sorry, but I have to provide the sweet and I have to run to the kitchen to make it. Shouldn’t keep you too long!”
I head for the kitchen with the anguished cry of “Viiigggooooh” ringing in my ears and slowly start to break pieces of good, dark chocolate into a saucier over boiling water to make a chocolate sauce, blending the chocolate with cream and cognac, once it has melted. It is still hot, when I carry the jug back to the bedroom.
“You bastard! You took your time.”
“I know. Had to follow Gordon Ramsey’s instructions carefully. This recipe is from another of his books you may be familiar with. It’s entitled Just Desserts and I can’t help thinking that’s most appropriate!”
Sean
Christmas Day Digestif
Espresso, almond cookies and Strega
Viggo keeps mocking me with that Ramsey bloke, and there’s not much I can do as I am still tied to the headboard.
“Watch it Tinsel Tits,“ I say, “you’ll have to release me sooner or later and I’ll be the Lord of your Rings then.”
I feel better when the wonderful scent coming from the jug Vig’s holding reaches my nose, but then I realise what he plans to do with it. I curse when he tilts the jug and pours a small stream of warm, rich chocolate over my naked chest. Kneeling on the bed he puts the jug on the nightstand and starts eagerly lapping up the sticky fluid from my nipple, I groan and buck up, trying to get him to suck even harder, but he’s following the trail down already.
“Hey,” I say, “how about my dessert?”
“Don’t fret Sean, you are the dessert: Chocolate Coated Chef. Now, where was I?” and he picks up the jug again. It has cooled off a little now and a thicker stream hits my chest, my belly and finally the lukewarm chocolate covers my cock.
“Fuck Vig, lick it up,” I plead and I lift my hips from the mattress.
He bends over and laps at the head of my chocolate cock and then crawls up to kiss me, sharing the sweet flavour with me.
“Mmm... good,” I say in between kisses, “but is that my expensive cognac you put into it, you bastard?”
“Only the best for Chocolate Coated Chef, Chef” he chuckles.
“That one is 48 years old, I saved it for a special occasion!” I cry out. “Now is the moment,” he says, and finally starts licking up the chocolate seriously. I gasp, but just before he reaches my cock he stops to look at me, a wicked gleam in his eye.
“Am I forgiven about the cognac?” he asks.
“Yes, yes, please come on Vig,” I beg. *I will stop it out of your next salary* I promise in silence.
I don’t know which one of us is enjoying dessert more, but I am finished long before Viggo is, and am still trying to catch up with breathing again when he’s still cheerfully lapping up chocolate. When he’s done he crawls up and feeds me the leftover chocolate from the jug, and only then releases me from the bonds. We just lay contentedly together, until after a while I try to shift and notice that the sheet is glued to my legs.
“Next time you intend to eat your dessert from my naked body you’d better cover the bed. I am going back to the shower again and you’re going back to stripping the bed and putting on clean sheets.”
“But I am sticky too,” the cheeky bastard protests and we end up sharing the shower and stripping and making the bed together. Crawling under the duvet sure feels good, and I am slowly shifting into half sleep when Viggo suddenly nudges me.
“I could do with a coffee, Sean.”
“Mmm yes, good idea, bring me one too.”
“Oh no, I did dessert, your turn now.”
“Yes, you sure did dessert. I can still feel like there’s chocolate in some of my most intimate places. It’s a shame I can’t pour nice hot coffee over you and lick it up.”
I sit up reluctantly and climb out of bed. He sits up against the headboard grinning at me triumphantly.
“You know, Tinsel Tits, I love my rings on you. I will love thinking about them at work, knowing how I can stretch out my hand and twist them, right through your clothes. You will be walking bow legged a lot in the coming weeks.”
“Fuck Sean,” he says and I can see the head of his cock peeping out from under the duvet, “you’re making me horny again.”
“That will be the perfect ending to a perfect day, Vig. Espresso, black like your soul, a nice glass of Strega for a digestif and then a really good fuck. And as you pointed out so neatly; it’s my turn, so I will serve all three. Twinkle, twinkle little star,” and with that I head for the kitchen.
We drink our coffees, dipping in little almond cookies, and sip the delicious Strega Neil and Carol gave us when they came visiting us last week.
“That’s what I call coffee, Tinsel Tits, not that lame brew you Americans seem to be so fond of.”
“You know Sean, you’d better not call me ‘Tinsel Tits’ at work, or I’ll tell them exactly who gave them to me and how you even pierced me and put them in.”
I try to look as if I couldn’t care less, but the thought makes me wince. I can already imagine them all laughing behind my back.
“What’s more I will tell them about you fucking me wearing a turkey hat.”
“But that’s not true!” I cry out, “I haven’t,” and I throw the hat to the far corner of the bed.
“You’re absolutely right,” he says, putting his silly hat a bit straighter on his head, “Horny Santa is topping tonight. HO HO HO.”
Epilogue – Boxing Day
There had been a distinct reluctance on the part of the Blades staff to turn up for work on Boxing Day, after the festivities. Everybody stumbled in with various degrees of lateness and a range of hangovers, from ‘I feel a little heady, please pass me an Alka Seltzer” to ‘For the love of God, stop rustling that cotton wool so loudly’.
The only two who seemed perky and in an incredibly good mood were Chef and his deputy, in fact Sean was particularly hearty and seemed to be chopping and whisking with relish and a fair amount of unfeeling and unnecessarily excessive noise.
Viggo had a permanent smirk and every so often caught Sean’s eye and burst into a screech of eldritch laughter and some couldn’t help noticing that he seemed to be practising little dance steps as he worked. At one point, he opened the door to the walk in freezer, pulled himself up and hung upside down, doing the splits, before slithering down and doing a kind of back flip to land on his feet.
Several mouths dropped open and heads turned in unison to Chef, not usually one to support mucking about in working hours, only to find him doubled up, hanging onto the counter with one hand and wheezing with laughter. When Viggo returned to his station, Sean had flicked his chest through his tee shirt, eliciting a yelp.
“Blimey,” hissed Dan to Chris, ”what has Viggo done with Chef? This bloke hasn’t uttered a single expletive yet today and he’s, well….playful!”
“Don’t knock it,” answered Chris, speaking through gritted teeth like a bad ventriloquist. ”Maybe Chef has a good twin we didn’t know about.”
The busy day continued, with Chef uncharacteristically mellow and forgiving at much of the slowness and clumsiness, which improved anyway as the hangovers wore off.
Finally, the doors were closed and the staff gathered to share their meal and compare the Christmases they’d had. There was much hilarity over some of the presents people had received – the traditional awful sweater with Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer on the front, hand knitted lovingly but incompetently by Matt’s grandma, the musical boxer shorts, which played “Jingle Bells”, or “Jingle Balls” as he insisted, which Dan’s brother had give him, the Vice Wine Puzzle, which had come with the bottle of single malt from Barry’s ex and had practically reduced him to tears by preventing him from opening it on Christmas Day.
“So how did you like our present, Chef?” asked Jane innocently.
“Oh we loved it, didn’t we, Viggo? So thoughtful of you all. You must have guessed that we can only aspire to the heights of those chefs. Truly, we are not worthy,” he replied, with a beatific smile.
“That’s right and Sean spent yesterday practising recipes. He was particularly inspired by Gordon Ramsey!”
“But you said you’d be doing ‘No fucking cooking’, Chef.”
“Well I didn’t cook anything, Viggo, did I?”
“Absolutely not, Sean, although you did do some skewering in the morning and I did some trussing in the afternoon. We managed breakfast, lunch, dessert, and coffee without actually cooking. I don’t count melting chocolate and making espresso.”
“That’s right and we ended a perfect day with Strega.”
“Oh how romantic,” sighed Susan. ”Do you know that strega means witch and legend says that it was originally made as a love potion and couples who drink it together will remain united in love forever.”
Amid the sounds of exaggerated fake retching and sniggering, only Jane’s voice could be heard, saying indignantly,
“Well I think that’s lovely!” as she glared at her male colleagues.
“So you didn’t have a traditional Christmas Dinner then,Chef?, asked Chris, “You’ve always been so strong on tradition. Didn’t you miss the usual trimmings; the roast potatoes, the sausages, the stuffing?”
“We created our own tradition, thank you, Christopher, said Viggo ”And for your information, Chef got plenty of stuffing!”
After a moment’s stunned silence, everyone burst out laughing at the sight of Sean’s outraged and scarlet face and then he exploded,
“Fucking hell, Viggo, you wanker! Is nothing fucking sacred?“
Barry raised his glass in a toast,
“Welcome back, Chef !”
Summary: This is a Christmas gift to our readers
Rated: R
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: AUChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 5033 Read: 1576
Published: 04 Aug 2009 Updated: 04 Aug 2009