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archetThank you ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
halszka for giving me an LJ Nudge, and reminding me that I've not updated in six weeks! Don't know where the time goes, jezz, this year is already flying past. But. On to the fic! Wrote this at work (for the first time in recent memory I'm actually caught up at work!) pretty fast. It's got smut and sap and I hope you enjoy halszka. ;) And, if I'm not badly mistaken, there's two things that happens here that I don't think I've ever written about. Jump to the end to find those out, or just read the fic. *g*
Title: Pride
Author: Archet
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Rating: NC/17
Summary: Sean makes dinner, Viggo lets go.
Disclaimer: this is fiction, implies nothing as to the real lives of the men who are inspirations for these characters.
Archive: Rugbytackle, my LJ
Feedback: welcomed and appreciated!
~*~
“I’m proud of you, you know.”
Sean turned, looked up from the skillet where he was stirring teriyaki sauce into a mound of vegetables, fresh from his garden, and steak strips. Not sure he’d heard Viggo correctly over the hiss of the meat and veggies sizzling in the pan, he reached for the chopped garlic and added in a pinch. “What?”
Viggo pushed off the counter by the sink where he’d spent the last few minuets watching his lover work at the stove. He moved closer, close enough to be engulfed by the scent of the heated teriyaki and fresh vegetables. He leaned his hip against the counter again, slight smile playing about his lips as Sean stirred their meal. His eyes followed Sean’s long, deft fingers wrapped around the spatula, the slim, and Viggo knew from personal experience, strong wrist twisting back and forth, keeping the food from burning.
“I said I’m proud of you.”
This time when Sean looked up from his work, his gaze stayed fixed on Viggo. “You are?”
Then the grin came out and Viggo smiled, knowing that was his grin. “Yeah, I am.” He moved closer, near enough to actually smell the hint of aftershave Sean had used a half hour ago, after his shower.
“Mind tellin’ me what for?” Sean asked, keeping the spatula moving, but unable to break his lover’s gaze, just then.
Viggo shook his head. “Nope.” He moved in even closer, so that he was standing snug in by Sean’s side. Resting his hand, palm down, in the center of Sean’s back, he took a slow stroke down, then up, letting it slide over the soft cotton t-shirt, mapping the contours of the muscled back underneath that he knew so well already, but never grew tired of relearning.
“Proud of you, just for being you.” Viggo smiled again, confident now that he had Sean’s full attention. The spatula was suddenly barely moving. “For giving me so much.”
Viggo’s hand traveled down, stopping to rest just above the sweet swell of Sean’s jean clad ass. “You’re one of the best actors I know, the most professional, too. I love that about you, how you can just switch in and out of characters. I loved watching you do that as Boromir.”
Sean was staring now, lips slightly parted. “Yeah?”
Viggo nodded, let his hand slip down and curve over Sean’s back pocket, not looking to truly start anything, yet, but just wanting to touch. “Yeah. But there’s more . . . so much more.”
Sean closed his mouth, blinked, remembered to give the vegetables and beef and quick stir. “Christ, thank you, Vig.”
Viggo looked steadily into he green eyes he’d come to love, into the man he’d come to want, and love. “You’ve let me in your life, given me strength, given me trust, your faithfulness, your friendship. There’s so much, Sean, I don’t think you even realize.”
Sean dropped the spatula, reached out with one hand and switched off the burner. Turning into Viggo, he pressed against his lover, searching his eyes. “Fuck, love, you’re not bloody dying or anything, are you?”
Viggo laughed, pressed back, got both hands on Sean’s backside, cupping lightly. “No, not that I know of, anyway.” There was laughter in Sean’s eyes, but something else too, and Viggo’s hands tightened, pulled Sean closer. “No. I’m not.” He leaned in and took a kiss, and like always Sean opened and gave him what he needed. Long moments later, Viggo pulled away, a little breathless.
Before he could speak, Sean grinned. “Sure as hell doesn’t feel like you’re on the way out to me,” he teased, feeling Viggo’s cock getting hard against him through their clothes.
Viggo laughed, shook his head and curled his fingers harder into Sean’s ass, was rewarded with a hiss. “Well, that’s good to know. Really, seriously, I just needed to make sure you knew. I love you, you British bastard.”
Sean slid his hands up Viggo’s arms, let them rest warmly on his shoulders. “I know that, Vig.” He leaned in, pressed his mouth against Vig’s, opened and moved his tongue patiently along Viggo’s lips, then slipped inside. Viggo leaned into Sean, into the kiss and let himself get lost in the sensation of being stroked by his lover. When they pulled apart Sean was moving restlessly in his hands, Viggo’s lips were tingling and the hunger that was a constant when he was around Sean, flared brighter.
“I’ve something for you,” he started, but Sean interrupted him.
“Oh, can just guess what that is.” The green eyes grew warmer, darker. “I want it, too. Want it pretty fucking bad.”
It was sheer willpower that had Viggo releasing Sean, moving back a little, creating a slight space between them. Sean watched with a puzzled expression as Viggo reached for the papers resting on top the canister that held the sugar. Viggo laid them on the counter, opened a drawer and drew out a pen.
“Don’t worry, you’re going to get that, going to get it pretty fucking hard, but this . . . this is what I really meant.”
Sean looked momentarily irritated, and Viggo hid a grin, but finally curiosity won out and Sean took the papers in hand, eyes moving over the page. Viggo watched, suddenly nervous despite the fact that he’d been planning this for a month.
“Vig, shite,” Sean breathed. He turned a page, then set the papers aside. His astonished eyes looked up. “Been through enough divorces to know what these are . . . you want to give me half of . . .” Sean looked around the large, sunlit kitchen. “Of . . .”
Viggo finally finished for him. “Of everything. The house, the land, the studio. The house in L.A., everything. There’s even some papers in there about, well, in case anything comes up medically and you need to make decisions.”
Sean pushed the papers away. “But I don’t want that, don’t need it, Vig.”
Viggo reached out, caught Sean before he could withdraw. “I know, but you have it already, Sean. This is your home, same as mine. All that other stuff, fuck, you know the papers don’t mean shit to me, less, even. But I want something down, legally, because we can’t-“
Sean stared. “Can’t what?”
Viggo paused, then fished out the ring from his pants pocket. “You know we can’t do it here, not legally, but I want to do the other stuff. I want-I’d like you to wear this, if you want it.”
Slowly, Sean reached out and took the ring. It was silver and smooth, slim without being delicate, and etched into the shining metal there was an intricate design that reminded him vaguely of Celtic symbols, but not quite. Whatever it was, it was complicated and beautiful, twining about the ring.
“Your design?” He asked with a flash of insight. His heart clenched in his chest when Viggo nodded. Sean held up the ring, looked inside the band and read the inscription.
You have my love, and are loved, always ~ Vig
“Vig . . .” Sean stared at the ring, caught by the way the sunlight glinted off the metal. “Anytime someone gives me a ring, I fuck things up.”
Viggo shook his head, sidled in close, touched Sean’s arm. “I can say the same, but not this time.”
Sean lifted his eyes, and Viggo’s breath caught at what he found in them. “But if the press finds out?” Sean asked.
Viggo’s heart pounded double time at what that question implied. “Fuck’em. We’d not be taking any risks that we aren’t already.”
Sean considered that, and taking a breath, held the ring out. “Put it on?”
Taking the ring, Viggo slipped it onto Sean’s hand with nervous fingers. Once on he kissed the metal band, kissed Sean’s fingers, one by one. “We don’t have to do anything else, just wear the damned ring and sign the fucking papers.”
Sean chuckled lightly, suddenly seemed so relaxed. “Pushy bastard, you are.” When Vig handed him the pen he took it willingly and signed each page where marked without even reading them. Finished, he dropped the pen on the counter, turned and pulled Viggo to him, and there was such hunger in his eyes, Viggo felt it reach out and touch his skin underneath his clothes.
“Want you, Vig. Want you so bad.”
It should’ve be easier to get one another naked, but their excitement and desire made sure fingers shaky, but finally Viggo was pressing Sean against the counter, bare skin sliding against bare skin. He reached down and lifted Sean’s leg up and around him, urging his lover to sling it high about his waist. Sean growled and rubbed, ready to be loved. He reached and fumbled in a nearby drawer, bringing out a tube of lube.
Viggo laughed outright. “When the fuck did you put that there?”
Sean moaned, a low, rich sound when Viggo’s fingers gripped him hard behind his knee, driving his lifted leg higher, opening him even more. “Last week when you attacked me in the hallway. Thought I’d better spread some supplies about the house.”
Viggo laughed again, rubbed his hard cock against Sean, then all laughter faded, replaced by the consuming need to bury himself in his lover. “Want to fuck your tight ass, right here, right now.”
Sean arched and rocked in Viggo’s arms. “Fuck, yeah. Gonna take you, Vig. Gonna take you in me, want to come for you.”
“Fucking right, you’re gonna come for me, Sean.”
Viggo slicked his fingers and slid one into Sean’s tight center. “Relax, love.” Sean bucked and squirmed, but Viggo knew what he could take and shoved in two more fingers. The moan Sean gave him was low and ragged, beautiful, and Viggo began rocking his fingers inside Sean’s amazing heat.
“God! Vig!”
Viggo kissed Sean’s neck and stroked deeper inside. “Yeah,” he panted. “Give me your noise.”
Sean moaned, rocked on Viggo’s hand, his hands clenching Viggo’s shoulders. “Fuck me, Vig. Fuck me with your cock.”
Sliding his fingers out carefully, Viggo guided his cock to Sean’s entrance, pushed in without warning, and when Sean arched and cried out, Viggo lost it, started a hard pounding rhythm that had sent him thrusting up inside Sean, lifting him up on his toes against the counter.
They rode each other that way for an endless time, Viggo’s body striving to fuck up harder, deeper, Sean working to push down, take more. Sweat slicked their skin and still Viggo thrust, taken by the need that raced along every limb, overpowered every thought.
“Sean! Fuck, so hot, so fucking good.” He growled, and pistoned his hips harder.
Sean rocked in Viggo’s arms, panted, moaned and gave his lover everything he was able. His moans grew desperate, his cries grew ragged and when Viggo’s hands curled over his ass and gripped him hard, shoving him down on his cock, Sean threw back his head and took it. He came yelling Viggo’s name, gasping as his body clenched down on Viggo’s hard length.
Viggo was lost the instant Sean put his hands on him, only now he was where he needed to be to let go. Sean gripped him, squeezed him and Viggo leaned into him and came, shooting his release deep inside, moaning.
They remained that way, locked together by arms and need, joined cock to ass and long moments passed before Viggo could find it in himself to pull away. They both groaned as Sean’s leg slid down, as Viggo slipped from his body. Hands glided over sweat damp skin and they came together again, kissing, Sean’s arms holding Viggo close and Viggo’s fingers buried in Sean’s hair.
Viggo finally drew back, panting, and stroking Sean’s damp hair back, said gently, “Baby.”
Sean cut him a look, even through his boneless satiation. “Just because I’m wearing your ring, doesn’t meant you can fucking call me that.”
Vig grinned, ran his hands over Sean, just wanting to feel him. “Fine, lover.”
Sean nodded once, satisfied. “Better. Now, take me to bed.”
Viggo laughed softly, his eyes moving over Sean’s face, almost in wonder. “Pushy thing, aren’t you?”
Sean scowled, but it only endured a moment, then green eyes smiled at Viggo. “Your fault. You rode me so fucking hard, need to take a rest.”
Viggo licked his lips, suddenly agreeing that bed was the best place for Sean, right then. He slipped his arms around Sean, nudged him toward the stairs. “Me too, love. Never had anyone make it so good.”
Sean grinned. “Mmm. Love you, too, you know.”
Viggo pressed a kiss to Sean’s neck, smiling. “I know.”
Leaning on one another, leaving their clothes scattered on the kitchen floor, the meal forgotten, they made their way upstairs, heading for a long night of lovemaking and sleep, together, always.
1**Vig gives Sean a ring
2**Vig calls Sean 'baby' Eee!
halszka for giving me an LJ Nudge, and reminding me that I've not updated in six weeks! Don't know where the time goes, jezz, this year is already flying past. But. On to the fic! Wrote this at work (for the first time in recent memory I'm actually caught up at work!) pretty fast. It's got smut and sap and I hope you enjoy halszka. ;) And, if I'm not badly mistaken, there's two things that happens here that I don't think I've ever written about. Jump to the end to find those out, or just read the fic. *g*Title: Pride
Author: Archet
Pairing: Viggo/Sean
Rating: NC/17
Summary: Sean makes dinner, Viggo lets go.
Disclaimer: this is fiction, implies nothing as to the real lives of the men who are inspirations for these characters.
Archive: Rugbytackle, my LJ
Feedback: welcomed and appreciated!
~*~
“I’m proud of you, you know.”
Sean turned, looked up from the skillet where he was stirring teriyaki sauce into a mound of vegetables, fresh from his garden, and steak strips. Not sure he’d heard Viggo correctly over the hiss of the meat and veggies sizzling in the pan, he reached for the chopped garlic and added in a pinch. “What?”
Viggo pushed off the counter by the sink where he’d spent the last few minuets watching his lover work at the stove. He moved closer, close enough to be engulfed by the scent of the heated teriyaki and fresh vegetables. He leaned his hip against the counter again, slight smile playing about his lips as Sean stirred their meal. His eyes followed Sean’s long, deft fingers wrapped around the spatula, the slim, and Viggo knew from personal experience, strong wrist twisting back and forth, keeping the food from burning.
“I said I’m proud of you.”
This time when Sean looked up from his work, his gaze stayed fixed on Viggo. “You are?”
Then the grin came out and Viggo smiled, knowing that was his grin. “Yeah, I am.” He moved closer, near enough to actually smell the hint of aftershave Sean had used a half hour ago, after his shower.
“Mind tellin’ me what for?” Sean asked, keeping the spatula moving, but unable to break his lover’s gaze, just then.
Viggo shook his head. “Nope.” He moved in even closer, so that he was standing snug in by Sean’s side. Resting his hand, palm down, in the center of Sean’s back, he took a slow stroke down, then up, letting it slide over the soft cotton t-shirt, mapping the contours of the muscled back underneath that he knew so well already, but never grew tired of relearning.
“Proud of you, just for being you.” Viggo smiled again, confident now that he had Sean’s full attention. The spatula was suddenly barely moving. “For giving me so much.”
Viggo’s hand traveled down, stopping to rest just above the sweet swell of Sean’s jean clad ass. “You’re one of the best actors I know, the most professional, too. I love that about you, how you can just switch in and out of characters. I loved watching you do that as Boromir.”
Sean was staring now, lips slightly parted. “Yeah?”
Viggo nodded, let his hand slip down and curve over Sean’s back pocket, not looking to truly start anything, yet, but just wanting to touch. “Yeah. But there’s more . . . so much more.”
Sean closed his mouth, blinked, remembered to give the vegetables and beef and quick stir. “Christ, thank you, Vig.”
Viggo looked steadily into he green eyes he’d come to love, into the man he’d come to want, and love. “You’ve let me in your life, given me strength, given me trust, your faithfulness, your friendship. There’s so much, Sean, I don’t think you even realize.”
Sean dropped the spatula, reached out with one hand and switched off the burner. Turning into Viggo, he pressed against his lover, searching his eyes. “Fuck, love, you’re not bloody dying or anything, are you?”
Viggo laughed, pressed back, got both hands on Sean’s backside, cupping lightly. “No, not that I know of, anyway.” There was laughter in Sean’s eyes, but something else too, and Viggo’s hands tightened, pulled Sean closer. “No. I’m not.” He leaned in and took a kiss, and like always Sean opened and gave him what he needed. Long moments later, Viggo pulled away, a little breathless.
Before he could speak, Sean grinned. “Sure as hell doesn’t feel like you’re on the way out to me,” he teased, feeling Viggo’s cock getting hard against him through their clothes.
Viggo laughed, shook his head and curled his fingers harder into Sean’s ass, was rewarded with a hiss. “Well, that’s good to know. Really, seriously, I just needed to make sure you knew. I love you, you British bastard.”
Sean slid his hands up Viggo’s arms, let them rest warmly on his shoulders. “I know that, Vig.” He leaned in, pressed his mouth against Vig’s, opened and moved his tongue patiently along Viggo’s lips, then slipped inside. Viggo leaned into Sean, into the kiss and let himself get lost in the sensation of being stroked by his lover. When they pulled apart Sean was moving restlessly in his hands, Viggo’s lips were tingling and the hunger that was a constant when he was around Sean, flared brighter.
“I’ve something for you,” he started, but Sean interrupted him.
“Oh, can just guess what that is.” The green eyes grew warmer, darker. “I want it, too. Want it pretty fucking bad.”
It was sheer willpower that had Viggo releasing Sean, moving back a little, creating a slight space between them. Sean watched with a puzzled expression as Viggo reached for the papers resting on top the canister that held the sugar. Viggo laid them on the counter, opened a drawer and drew out a pen.
“Don’t worry, you’re going to get that, going to get it pretty fucking hard, but this . . . this is what I really meant.”
Sean looked momentarily irritated, and Viggo hid a grin, but finally curiosity won out and Sean took the papers in hand, eyes moving over the page. Viggo watched, suddenly nervous despite the fact that he’d been planning this for a month.
“Vig, shite,” Sean breathed. He turned a page, then set the papers aside. His astonished eyes looked up. “Been through enough divorces to know what these are . . . you want to give me half of . . .” Sean looked around the large, sunlit kitchen. “Of . . .”
Viggo finally finished for him. “Of everything. The house, the land, the studio. The house in L.A., everything. There’s even some papers in there about, well, in case anything comes up medically and you need to make decisions.”
Sean pushed the papers away. “But I don’t want that, don’t need it, Vig.”
Viggo reached out, caught Sean before he could withdraw. “I know, but you have it already, Sean. This is your home, same as mine. All that other stuff, fuck, you know the papers don’t mean shit to me, less, even. But I want something down, legally, because we can’t-“
Sean stared. “Can’t what?”
Viggo paused, then fished out the ring from his pants pocket. “You know we can’t do it here, not legally, but I want to do the other stuff. I want-I’d like you to wear this, if you want it.”
Slowly, Sean reached out and took the ring. It was silver and smooth, slim without being delicate, and etched into the shining metal there was an intricate design that reminded him vaguely of Celtic symbols, but not quite. Whatever it was, it was complicated and beautiful, twining about the ring.
“Your design?” He asked with a flash of insight. His heart clenched in his chest when Viggo nodded. Sean held up the ring, looked inside the band and read the inscription.
You have my love, and are loved, always ~ Vig
“Vig . . .” Sean stared at the ring, caught by the way the sunlight glinted off the metal. “Anytime someone gives me a ring, I fuck things up.”
Viggo shook his head, sidled in close, touched Sean’s arm. “I can say the same, but not this time.”
Sean lifted his eyes, and Viggo’s breath caught at what he found in them. “But if the press finds out?” Sean asked.
Viggo’s heart pounded double time at what that question implied. “Fuck’em. We’d not be taking any risks that we aren’t already.”
Sean considered that, and taking a breath, held the ring out. “Put it on?”
Taking the ring, Viggo slipped it onto Sean’s hand with nervous fingers. Once on he kissed the metal band, kissed Sean’s fingers, one by one. “We don’t have to do anything else, just wear the damned ring and sign the fucking papers.”
Sean chuckled lightly, suddenly seemed so relaxed. “Pushy bastard, you are.” When Vig handed him the pen he took it willingly and signed each page where marked without even reading them. Finished, he dropped the pen on the counter, turned and pulled Viggo to him, and there was such hunger in his eyes, Viggo felt it reach out and touch his skin underneath his clothes.
“Want you, Vig. Want you so bad.”
It should’ve be easier to get one another naked, but their excitement and desire made sure fingers shaky, but finally Viggo was pressing Sean against the counter, bare skin sliding against bare skin. He reached down and lifted Sean’s leg up and around him, urging his lover to sling it high about his waist. Sean growled and rubbed, ready to be loved. He reached and fumbled in a nearby drawer, bringing out a tube of lube.
Viggo laughed outright. “When the fuck did you put that there?”
Sean moaned, a low, rich sound when Viggo’s fingers gripped him hard behind his knee, driving his lifted leg higher, opening him even more. “Last week when you attacked me in the hallway. Thought I’d better spread some supplies about the house.”
Viggo laughed again, rubbed his hard cock against Sean, then all laughter faded, replaced by the consuming need to bury himself in his lover. “Want to fuck your tight ass, right here, right now.”
Sean arched and rocked in Viggo’s arms. “Fuck, yeah. Gonna take you, Vig. Gonna take you in me, want to come for you.”
“Fucking right, you’re gonna come for me, Sean.”
Viggo slicked his fingers and slid one into Sean’s tight center. “Relax, love.” Sean bucked and squirmed, but Viggo knew what he could take and shoved in two more fingers. The moan Sean gave him was low and ragged, beautiful, and Viggo began rocking his fingers inside Sean’s amazing heat.
“God! Vig!”
Viggo kissed Sean’s neck and stroked deeper inside. “Yeah,” he panted. “Give me your noise.”
Sean moaned, rocked on Viggo’s hand, his hands clenching Viggo’s shoulders. “Fuck me, Vig. Fuck me with your cock.”
Sliding his fingers out carefully, Viggo guided his cock to Sean’s entrance, pushed in without warning, and when Sean arched and cried out, Viggo lost it, started a hard pounding rhythm that had sent him thrusting up inside Sean, lifting him up on his toes against the counter.
They rode each other that way for an endless time, Viggo’s body striving to fuck up harder, deeper, Sean working to push down, take more. Sweat slicked their skin and still Viggo thrust, taken by the need that raced along every limb, overpowered every thought.
“Sean! Fuck, so hot, so fucking good.” He growled, and pistoned his hips harder.
Sean rocked in Viggo’s arms, panted, moaned and gave his lover everything he was able. His moans grew desperate, his cries grew ragged and when Viggo’s hands curled over his ass and gripped him hard, shoving him down on his cock, Sean threw back his head and took it. He came yelling Viggo’s name, gasping as his body clenched down on Viggo’s hard length.
Viggo was lost the instant Sean put his hands on him, only now he was where he needed to be to let go. Sean gripped him, squeezed him and Viggo leaned into him and came, shooting his release deep inside, moaning.
They remained that way, locked together by arms and need, joined cock to ass and long moments passed before Viggo could find it in himself to pull away. They both groaned as Sean’s leg slid down, as Viggo slipped from his body. Hands glided over sweat damp skin and they came together again, kissing, Sean’s arms holding Viggo close and Viggo’s fingers buried in Sean’s hair.
Viggo finally drew back, panting, and stroking Sean’s damp hair back, said gently, “Baby.”
Sean cut him a look, even through his boneless satiation. “Just because I’m wearing your ring, doesn’t meant you can fucking call me that.”
Vig grinned, ran his hands over Sean, just wanting to feel him. “Fine, lover.”
Sean nodded once, satisfied. “Better. Now, take me to bed.”
Viggo laughed softly, his eyes moving over Sean’s face, almost in wonder. “Pushy thing, aren’t you?”
Sean scowled, but it only endured a moment, then green eyes smiled at Viggo. “Your fault. You rode me so fucking hard, need to take a rest.”
Viggo licked his lips, suddenly agreeing that bed was the best place for Sean, right then. He slipped his arms around Sean, nudged him toward the stairs. “Me too, love. Never had anyone make it so good.”
Sean grinned. “Mmm. Love you, too, you know.”
Viggo pressed a kiss to Sean’s neck, smiling. “I know.”
Leaning on one another, leaving their clothes scattered on the kitchen floor, the meal forgotten, they made their way upstairs, heading for a long night of lovemaking and sleep, together, always.
1**Vig gives Sean a ring
2**Vig calls Sean 'baby' Eee!
