Out of doubt, out of dark, to the day's rising
he rode singing in the sun, sword unsheathing...
Viggo recited the little speech by Eomer in the book of the Return of the King like a mantra. It was still early in the morning and the air was a little chilly because of the falling temperature. Though his Idaho cottage was mostly nicer in the Springs and Summers, Viggo liked to stay in the cottage all year round. For one, it was further away from the hustle and bustle of life of an actor (and he refused to even acknowledge himself as a moviestar), and he was much closer to nature out here. Not as close as he thought he was in New Zealand, but this would do.
The window that Viggo was looking out of was a little steamed from the hot mug he was holding against it. The mug was steaming with his favourite maté and the air around him was filled with its comforting fragrance. In a special effort to spoil himself, Viggo had even added some honey to his maté this morning. The sky outside was clouded with... well, clouds, but the sun was beginning to rise on the horizon. Hues of reds, yellows and oranges bled themselves into the sky, and suddenly, a little clearing appeared in the centre of the patch of sky Viggo just happened to be watching. There were clouds circling the little clear patch, and somehow, the colours of the sun were so aesthetically pleasing, Viggo thought for a moment that it looked like the colours of a certain person's hair colour. Viggo didn't intend to write a poem about it, or make poetic similes about it - he wasn't even going to take a photograph of it. For once, it was nice to admire a sunrise just for what it was.
It was half an hour later, when the sun had risen way beyond the horizon in the sky, and the maté in the mug had gone empty that Viggo had stepped away from his bedroom window to wander back into the kitchen to deposit his mug. He washed it meticulously of course, and left it to dry with the other plates and glasses. He then decided to pour some fresh coffee for his guest because he doubted that Brits liked maté very much.
He padded from the kitchen to the living room in his bare feet, the mug of coffee in his hand. His guest had insisted that he couldn't possibly inconvenience his host to the point of actually taking out the extra bed and getting clean sheets for the bed in the wee hours of the morning, and so he had slept on the couch. He was still sleeping on the couch when Viggo got to the living room and sat on the armchair next to the sofa, his thigh so close to his sleeping guest that the arm hanging off the sofa was brushing against his thigh. The Brit had tousled dirty blond hair, a masculine and aquiline face with a grin that Viggo was waiting to see for the first time this morning, and a hard, lean body. The Brit still wore a rumpled shirt, and pants that clung tightly to his legs. One arm was slung over the side of the couch and the other was curled up against his face, framing the beautiful picture he presented.
Mischievously, Viggo deliberately lifted the coffee cup under his guest's nose so that the fragrance would reach the sleepy senses to wake him up. It did not have its desired effect at first, but gradually, the blond-haired man began to wake up, stirring slightly before his eyes popped open. It took him a few moments to focus his eyes on Viggo, but once he did, he lips curled into the grin Viggo had been waiting for all morning. The grin curled into his innards like how any excellent story with a happy ending would - it gave you a satisfaction so immense that you were tempted to simply sit there and contemplate it.
"Coffee for me?" Sean asked, his first words raspy from sleep. Viggo nodded and placed the mug on the coffee table, out of reach from the flailing arms of the waking man.
"Coffee for you. Think you can get up so you can drink it?" Viggo asked, settling back into the armchair.
"Yeah, sure I can. Sorry again for imposing by the way, mate. Thank you," Sean said politely, those polished English manners kicking in, first thing in the morning. Atleast Viggo hoped they weren't his first thoughts of the morning.
"I already told you that you aren't imposing, Sean. I don't often have voluntary guests out here in Idaho. Something about the artist in me jumping out to life and forgetting everything else once I'm up here," Viggo explained in a bland tone, though there was a detectable note of a smirk in his voice. "And now, before you protest, I'm going to get you breakfast," Viggo finished, and before Sean could say anything, he got up from his seat and headed into the kitchen.
When Viggo walked back to the living room with bread, plates, knives, butter and a couple of jams in his arms, he was singing softly, his heart light and free of the cares in the world. Sean thought he rather looked like how Aragorn would have during his former years as a Ranger. But Aragorn was a bittersweet package. The carefree ranger came with the careworn warrior who was to be King. Not much difference there between Aragorn and Viggo. Sean couldn't help wondering what Viggo was thinking of, right at that very moment. He'd bet that it had something to do with his son, or possibly something to do with nothing at all.
He helped Viggo set all the eating utensils and all the food down on the coffee table before adjusting it so that it was placed exactly between the both of them. "Do you do this for every guest you have up here?" Sean asked absentmindedly as he picked up some bread and a butter knife.
"No. You just happen to be getting special treatment," Viggo admitted with an easy slide of his shoulders. Sean would never admit it, but he almost choked on the bit of bread he had been chewing in his mouth.
"Me? Special? In what way?"
"You're just special, Sean. My friend, my former Steward so it seems, and like I said, you voluntarily came up here. Not many people are comfortable with spending so much time with me alone up here in seclusion. Some people just can't stand he solitude," Viggo explained.
Sean nodded numbly, not sure he understood, but he was way too pleased about getting special treatment to care. Sean was normally not the kind of man who would take this sort of action against his best mates, so Sean took the whole of breakfast to consider it. Viggo was sat on a deep dark red armchair that was very wide and was the reclining sort. It was the kind of armchair most people would use as a loveseat... Viggo could have been using it for that purpose for all Sean knew. The thought of Viggo on a loveseat was also immensely pleasing to his beleaguered mind.
The bread in Sean's mouth tasted better than many other breads he'd eaten before and he wasn't too sure it had anything to do with the bread. Bread would sort of taste good when all a person can imagine is sucking on another person's skin, after all. Viggo noticed the way Sean's mouth often went slack while he was eating breakfast. He didn't comment on it of course since he was quite sure he frequently looked like that when his thoughts had gone off on a tangent.
After a couple more bits of bread and sips of coffee, Sean finished his breakfast. He insisted that he be the one to carry all the items back into the kitchen, and that he be the one to wash the dishes. Viggo didn't like that idea one bit. Polite guest or not, it simply wasn't right to let Sean simply walk around his house and do the dishes when he was obviously the host. "I promise to bring something back," Sean promised before scurrying off to the kitchen with everything in hand so that Viggo had no time to protest. Viggo pouted about it because he simply had no idea of what else to do. He also obviously didn't notice that Sean became rather reluctant about washing the dishes, right after he left, because Sean would have very much preferred to peek around the kitchen wall, and spy on Viggo pouting.
Tall ships and tall Kings
Three times three,
What brought they from the foundered land
Over the flowing Sea?
Seven stars and seven stones
And one white tree.
Sean liked that little ditty. It was about the Numenoreans who had made it to Middle-Earth, and it spoke of things connected to Aragorn and to Boromir. That wasn't the point of course, but Sean recited the rhyme softly anyway as he carried a tray with two bowls of ice cream on it back to the living room to keep his mind off what he really thought he could do with the ice cream. The tray made a slightly metallic sound as Sean placed it down on the coffee table and offered a bowl to Viggo.
Viggo frowned slightly. "Ice cream, Sean? Isn't morning a little too early for ice cream?"
"There's no such thing as a time too early for ice cream or strawberries and whipped cream," Sean retorted, dismissing what Viggo said and picked up his own bowl of ice cream. True to his tastes, the ice cream was strawberry flavoured, though Sean had not been able to find any whipped cream. Viggo looked dubious, but he too picked up his bowl of ice cream and slowly fed a spoonful to himself. First, Viggo licked the ice cream like a little kitten licking milk. He then wrinkled his nose, licked at it again as if to assure himself that it wasn't really all that cold before he used the flat side of his tongue to lap the rest of the ice cream upl off the spoon. The sight of Viggo just eating ice cream was putting a thrill up Sean's spine. Did the man have an adversity to putting spoonfuls of ice cream into his mouth or something?
"Mmm... had no idea I even had nice ice cream in my fridge," Viggo commented. Sean thought that rather funny since he could be rather fussy while doing shopping. He meticulously picked out everything that he put into his fridge and here was one of his best mates, completely unaware that he actually ever bought strawberry ice cream, Sean fancied. "Strawberry flavoured too. Reminds me of you," Viggo added.
That did it for Sean. He had no idea why the thought of Viggo thinking about himself and strawberries and ice cream in the same context made him feel that way, but Sean had been pushed to the end of his tether, there was no stopping it now. He placed his half empty bowl on the table with a slight clatter, and the spoon dropped on to the floor in his clumsiness. Under normal circumstances, Sean would have picked it up, but this time, he simply ignored it.
"Something wrong?" Viggo asked with wide eyes. He didn't have to ask because his question was answered almost immediately. Sean slid across the space between them in a movement that much resembled a cobra flying through space and striking at its target. In one movement, he had both his hands on the armrests of the chair and his body pressed into Viggo's legs. Sean thought Viggo looked really rather adorable with a smudge of ice cream staining his lips, and when he leaned in to kiss Viggo, his tongue briefly darted out to taste the ice cream.
He pulled back before Viggo even had a chance to react. Sean was wary now, his body was tense with anticipation. Viggo's face took on a blank expression at first, but now Sean saw it turn into one of disgusted horror in front of him. It had to be horror, he could see no other way out of it. Viggo seemed to be recoiling from him with revulsion. This was probably the moment when Viggo would order Sean out of his house and out of his life forever. He had been mistaken to have done it in the first place of course. One does not go around kissing one's male friends without first asking them, and Sean knew he would pay the price dearly...
Cold be hand and heart and bone,
and cold be sleep under stone:
never more to wake on stony bed
never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead.
The chant of some old barrow-wight in the books came to Sean's mind as he continued to stare into his friend's face - a friend that he'd fancied very much over the last year or so, and a fancy he was very afraid would be rejected in a few moments. He was cringing internally from the look in Viggo's expressive eyes, and his hands seemed deathly cold from fear.
"Sean..." Viggo finally murmured. Sean sprang slightly, startled by the voice. Viggo seemed to already have run out of words to say, but Sean hastily tried to mend whatever fences he could.
"Oh god, Viggo, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do it really, it was just something on the spur of the moment. You do know I'm straight, right? Straight as a rod, mate. Many ex-wives to prove it. Just... don't.... chase me out of yo--"
Viggo stopped Sean's tirade of words with a finger to the man's lips. Sean looked back at Viggo, wide-eyed with surprise. Viggo licked his lips deliberately as he pressed his finger at Sean's wet lips, wondered what he would feel if Sean sucked on his finger lightly with that animal lust he often displayed, shining from his eyes. "I hope you don't mean what you just said, Sean Bean, because I hope you've heard that I'm not straight as a rod at all."
Sean really thought that he was getting too old for this sort of thing. Shock just didn't run so smoothly through his nerves anymore, and this shock really might given him a heart attack if he were any less healthier. His mouth opened into a shocked "O" and Viggo's finger slipped inside his mouth almost by accident. Sean's response was an instinctive closing of his mouth, followed by the light suction to Viggo's finger as he swallowed nervously. Viggo didn't care if it had all been meant on purpose or by accident, he simply closed his eyes, sunk further into the chair, and moaned.
Sean gently took Viggo's finger out of his mouth and held it in his hand as he looked up at the man he'd fancied for so long once again with bright eyes. "Do you... do you really? I mean... do yo-"
"Shush, Sean. I do mean it. Fuck me now, please? I've been waiting to say that for such a long time now." Sean simply nodded and popped Viggo's finger back in his mouth. Now that his brain had been inflamed by Viggo's plea to be fucked, he became very efficient in his actions. The ice cream bowl was lifted out of Viggo's hand and put back on the table. The chair was pushed into reclining mode, and Viggo's jeans were unzipped.
Just at the most importune moment however, the doorbell was rung and Viggo almost jumped out of his skin at the sound. "Shit!" he cursed loudly. It isn't a good idea to disturb a man who's about to get a blowjob that he's been anticipating for ages now. Sean just fell back into his kneeling position as Viggo zipped up his jeans and easily hoisted himself out of the armchair. He ran to the door, and fell against it when he realised it was only Old Mrs. Tempa come to pass him some of the special blueberry jam she made herself.
He was as cordial as he could be as he took the 2 jars of jam from her and was engaged in some idle conversations. When asked to see if she could come in, Viggo was tempted to say 'no', god knew he was tempted, and yet it would have been really rather rude in the extreme. Sean saved him then when he walked over to the door to join them. Being the nice polite British gentleman, he charmed Mrs. Tempa into believing that they'd be heading out in a few minutes and how inconvenient it would be for us to stall her from all her other important tasks. He also sweetly added that he would be sure that they'd pay a call to her cottage tomorrow morning. She left approximately one minute after that and Sean closed the door with a smug grin.
"How you do that I'll never know, but you don't know how happy I am that you did it. She can honestly go on for ever and ever sometimes," Viggo said ruefully as they walked back to the living room where the bowls of melted ice cream would soon be attracting flies and ants. Viggo looked at the armchair hungrily and looked back over his shoulder at Sean.
"Who cares?" Sean shrugged as he pulled Viggo closer to him and pressed their lips together in a kiss. Viggo opened his mouth to allow Sean's tongue into his mouth, and they stood there, drowning in each other's kisses, and possibly thanking God that they had been born so that they could experience this moment in their lives.
Life to the dying
In the King's hand lying...
They tried to break apart for a moment, breathlessly gasping for some oxygen to keep them alive, in order so that they could keep kissing each other breathless. "My King," Sean gasped, addressing Viggo cockily, "would My Lord consent to lie down across the armchair, belly down, for his loyal and most humbly virginal Steward?"
Viggo threw a look back at Sean that could have been translated as unholy hunger - it was a dark look, but one that made Sean's pants feel ever so uncomfortable. "I have been most remiss in keeping a virginal Steward, so I see," Viggo retorted as he stretched himself across the armchair - a different one from the loveseat earlier. This one was narrower, and infinitely likely to creak if someone were to, for example, have rough satisfying sex on it. "Arwen never did understand my need to get fucked in the ass, what a pity that was. I hope my Steward will help me solve this problem like he helps me solve all my other problems of the realm?"
Sean chuckled as he watched Viggo who was now fully stretched out. His thighs were on one of the armchair's armrests and his arms hung over the other armrest which left a very delectable ass clearly up in the air. "I am My Lord's most humble and obedient servant," Sean said as he reached around Viggo's waist to unbutton the jeans. He kissed the golden skin of Viggo's bottom as soon as it appeared, but helpfully pulled the jeans down without any further disturbances.
"Going to take off my shirt?" Viggo asked, gesturing to the loose old shirt that he had on. He would look a lot like a shabby cowboy if he was wearing one of those hats, Sean thought to himself as he watched the wriggling derriére.
"No, keep the shirt on, love. It makes you look.. bedraggled in a way. More fuckable, if you know what I mean," Sean said, giving a toothy grin.
"Oh really? Then on the shirt stays," Viggo said in reply, his voice a little muffled. Sean undressed himself in something of a hurry before fishing a tube of lube out of a pocket in his pants. God knew what Sean was doing with a tube of lube in his pockets, but a man must have some secrets.
"You've done this before, right?" Sean asked, betraying a little bit of worry in his tone as he ran his hands up Viggo's thighs and ass.
"Why? Haven't you?" Viggo asked back, laughing a little at the joke. Sean snorted in derision as he squeezed some lube out on to a finger and used it to massage Viggo's muscled opening slowly. They'd have those really slow and loving kind of fuckings later (or so Sean hoped), but right now, all he could think of was feeling Viggo around him, tight and hot, and the sounds Viggo would make as Sean fucked him. Sean slipped his finger into Viggo's hole as soon as he thought Viggo was lubed up enough. All he could feel was tightness and heat, more tightness and even more heat as he went deeper in. He was quite sure he could come right then from that.
"Sean, hurry. Fuck me," Viggo said in an impatient tone of voice, shoving Sean out of his little daydreams. Sean took that was a very positive sign. He pushed two more fingers in before he lubed up his own cock, and then he pulled Viggo backwards just a little so that Viggo's feet were touching the ground before he pushed his cock in. He tried to do it as slowly as he could, but it was so tight, and he could hardly stand upright as he felt blood rushing from all over his body to engorge his cock. Viggo, who was basically draped over the armrest of the armchair, hardly felt any of the pain Sean was imagining, but he sweated heavily anyway from the anticipation and th excitement.
Once Viggo felt Sean's cock in him right to the hilt, he pushed back a little experimentally, and smiled. "Yess... move, Sean, fuck me, please," Viggo said as he huffed and puffed in exhileration (but he didn't blow the house down). Sean was more than happy to oblige as he moved his cock, sliding in and out of Viggo in quick movements that led to slightly longer movements. Each slide of Sean's cock against Viggo's prostate felt like he'd just touched a live wire and that he was being electrocuted.
Sean also huffed and puffed, and he was quite sure he might have blown the house down as his fingers curled around Viggo's hips, and he continued to piston in and out. The armchair was creaking just like the author told you it would, but all Sean could hear was the blood singing in his ears, and Viggo's breathless gasps of 'Sean', 'Fuck' and 'Oh god'. It sounded more heavenly than a choir of angels.
Viggo came with a cry that possibly might have caused loose cement in between the kitchen tiles to fall. The armchair would have to be washed to get the semen stains off later. Viggo heard Sean slumping to the floor on some abstract thought, and he slid off the armrest and slumped on to the floor on top of Sean. They were sweaty from exertion, but they made the loveliest looking pile on the floor that anybody would have ever seen.
Above all shadows rides the Sun
and Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
nor bid the Stars farewell.
That evening, when Viggo looked out at the sunset, he thanks his Stars for the miraculous day. For though the Sun gave the world the gift of day, Viggo considered himself a pagan worshipper of the night Stars. They were beautiful, as his son was beautiful, as his life was beautiful. But naught would ever be as beautiful as this day, when Sean had made what he thought the most terrible blunder of asking Viggo for something, he thought Viggo had never known about. Viggo was sure even God would be pleased that Sean had been wrong.
Summary: Sean is staying over with Viggo at his cottage in Idaho - the morning after, something unexpected happens after breakfast.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 4045 Read: 931
Published: 06 Aug 2009 Updated: 06 Aug 2009