Fic: Marionette
Jul. 2nd, 2003 11:48 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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rugbytackleTitle: Marionette
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rinsbane
Pairing: SB/EW/VM
Rating: NC17
Warning: Voyeurism
Summary: Viggo watches Sean, Sean watches Elijah, Elijah fucks with both of them.
Disclaimer: I don't really think Elijah's such a little bitch to the boys *g*, but I don't know for sure...
A/N: Enormous thanks tomilochka and moldava for the wonderful beta.
Viggo watched the boys walk - or perhaps shamble was a more accurate word - into the dim bar. It looked like the hobbits and the elf had been to a club or two before making their way to meet Viggo and Bean, and though Orli in his bright green shirt immediately caught Viggo's eye, it was Elijah's skintight midnight blue shirt that held it. The fabric was shot through with metallic threads that glinted darkly when they caught the light.
Viggo snickered watching the boys. Dom and Billy tripped over each other's feet and fell forward into Elijah, throwing him against the table next to him. The girls sitting there giggled, and Elijah flashed a quick smile before continuing on to Viggo and Bean's table. Dom, more easily distracted by a pretty face and willing attitude, wasn't so quick to continue on.
Hearing Viggo's low laugh, Sean threw him a swift glance. Viggo schooled his features to display mild amusement appropriate to Viggo Mortensen, poet, actor, painter, photographer, benevolent king, unwilling and humble mentor to those younger, and slightly eccentric friend to Sean Bean. Sean was a fairly levelheaded, quiet kind of guy who, Viggo had long ago decided, was far better off seeing only what Viggo wanted him to. He was far too fond of their friendship to tell Sean how he really thought their relationship should be. So he always at least tried to behave himself around Sean.
But he didn't see anything wrong with studiously watching the sexy blond actor, and he'd been doing that since day one, trying to determine his chances of getting to know him…better. A lot better. He'd realized pretty quickly that Sean wasn't exclusively straight. Viggo was quite positive that a few months ago he'd been ditched one night for a slender black haired young thing, male young thing. Nope, Sean didn't have a problem with ass, but his "type" seemed to be pretty little boys. Boys like Orli and Elijah. Not men like Viggo.
Viggo scowled into his beer before he caught himself. He didn't believe in "types." He thought that a man should fuck whoever caught his eye, or be fucked by that same person - he liked to think he was flexible after all - and currently his eye was on Sean. Like it had been for the past few months. Except the longer he watched Sean, the more convinced he became that Sean was watching Elijah.
So yeah, while Viggo normally liked the little shit, he wasn't too happy with him now. Since he knew, just knew, that it was all Elijah's fault that his friend had been so distracted lately. Because while Sean might like that general type, Viggo was sure that there was no way he would ever even consider acting on his attraction if the boy hadn't been prodding him along.
He hadn't missed the stolen glances Elijah aimed at Sean, glances which gradually turned into blatant stares. He'd felt Sean jolt when they were standing next to each other and Elijah walked by. Had seen the bony white hand swipe Sean's ass. Had watched Elijah casually pinch his own nipples behind the façade of smoothing his shirt, had watched him suck on his finger, feeding it in and out of his mouth.
All such seemingly innocent, absent-minded gestures, but preformed so knowingly for his entranced audience of one.
Sure, Elijah had a fine ass, Viggo was more than willing to admit. Rest of him was pretty nice too. So he could see Sean's attraction. He just didn't like it. Especially since Viggo didn't believe for one second that the boy could be unaware of his appeal and believed even less that Elijah didn't use it to his advantage.
Excited noises interrupted his musings. The boys had arrived at the table, noisy and bearing drinks. One…two - bingo. Viggo watched Sean's eyes flicker on Elijah right on schedule before he looked at the others. Elijah, slipping himself into a chair, paid no attention.
Viggo let their conversation swirl around him like the smoke and heat of the bar, light waves of clear noise in the dark. Occasionally a crash, the soft punctuation of Billy's accent gone strong, the sharp puncture of Elijah's giggle, and then Sean's mellow tones washing over the ruptures in the melody. Eyes moved like the sound, drifting in the current of the speaker's voice and wandering over to latch onto the mouth delivering the next words as they entered the stream. Only Sean's gaze flowed too often to Elijah. Viggo wondered if they followed his own gaze and found it on themselves.
Orlando shoved back his chair and began pulling Billy up with him. "Where we goin?" Billy slurred.
"Pool table's free," Orlando answered as he dragged Billy after him, swaying slightly. The other guys remained at the table and Orlando turned to them, slightly huffy at their delay. "You coming?"
Dom got up and followed them. Elijah looked at Viggo and Sean, as if deciding. Sean flushed just a little bit at Elijah's direct gaze, only enough so that Viggo, who was sitting next to him, could see but not enough for Elijah to see. Viggo shrugged at Lij. "Count me out. We'll watch."
Elijah returned the shrug, loose and casual, and swiped his eyes over Sean, coolly, as if measuring him. Getting up, he walked over to the pool table and began chalking a cue. One hip was cocked out, sharp like his laughter, fine like the sheen of his young skin. The slippery midnight metallic threads in his shirt embraced the wan yellow light as a black hole might, sucking the light into themselves and dancing erotically with its stolen energy. Sean exhaled and inhaled quickly, as if he had been holding his breath.
He turned back to Viggo and tried to pick up the conversation where it had left off, but to Viggo it seemed as if Sean's mind had been caught on puppet strings. Elijah, that callous puppet master who would rip the strings off when he was through with them. Viggo wanted to warn Sean, wanted to tell him of the danger, but he didn't. Couldn't. He was too invested in this already. Was helpless to do anything but watch it unfold.
A distracted silence descended on Viggo and Sean as the pool-playing puppeteer pulled on the marionette strings. Viggo attempted to relax into his seat - an impossible thing to do when his body was already thrumming, responding to Sean's awareness of Elijah.
Elijah leaned over the table to line up his shot, his shirt shifting with him. He was facing them, and he raised his eyes to them, to Sean, in a level stare. Brief and potent. He wasn't paying any attention to Viggo, yet still Viggo felt the heat of his gaze. Sean sat transfixed as Elijah rose from his shot, rested the heel of the cue on the floor, and easily ran his hand over his chest. Though Viggo couldn't see skin through the dark shirt, he knew it was flat and sinewy with the strength of fresh muscles.
Sean leaned back against the frame of his chair and spread his legs apart slightly as though he could ease his increasing arousal. Viggo also noted, not without a hidden grin, that Sean had pulled his chair in closer to the table, probably trying to maintain some decency and not display the bulge in his pants to the world. Wasn't working, at least from Viggo's perspective, although that may have had something to do with the fact that Viggo was deliberately looking…
Sean's arousal was intoxicating. Viggo could almost smell the desire, could in fact smell the fine sweat breaking out on the tense body, and his flesh prickled in response as heat broke in tight waves over his body.
Their actions fell into place like the links in a chain. Elijah slid his hand into the back pocket on his jeans and pulled up, cupping his own ass. Witnessing it, Sean clenched his hand on his leg under the table and loudly exhaled again, and Viggo inhaled his breath in the next heartbeat, leaning towards Sean.
Elijah leaned his cue against the table and wedged his right hand into the other back pocket, stretching the denim taut against his ass. Sean's hand crept closer to his dick and settled with his fingers resting on his inner thigh, palm propped on leg and elbow bent outward; Viggo simply slipped further into his chair, concentrating on regulating his body's reactions to Sean's unintentionally provocative movements.
And when Elijah looked directly at Sean, took a drink of Orli's beer, and licked his lips in what *could* have been an innocent fashion in some alternate universe or on a two year old with an oral fixation, maybe, Sean flushed bright red and shuddered while his hand flexed on his cloth-covered dick. Viggo's own cock throbbed hard in sympathy, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he drained the rest of his beer in a vain effort to wet his suddenly dry mouth.
And just like that, Viggo had become another marionette, one belonging to the unwitting Sean. Every time Elijah yanked on Sean's strings, Viggo swung wildly in the wake of the pull. Viggo thought that the weirdest part of this whole jerky dance was that it had its own music, a theme song of sorts. Yes, their moves were choreographed to Paganini's La Campanella. It had the right sort of violin spasms, spasms that danced like the puppet strings in the boy's hands.
The pool game had finished, and Dom was crowing over his and Elijah's victory. Elijah leaned over and whispered something in Dom's ear that made Dom look temporarily confused. Then he shrugged and trudged back over to the table with Orlando and Billy. Elijah didn't follow; instead, he slipped though the crowd, and as the light ceased to pull at him, he became dark and sleek, an object that wasn't what it seemed to be.
Viggo watched Sean's eyes track Elijah's progress across the floor and to the door, and in a fresh wave of sound from the remaining boys, Elijah disappeared from sight. Sean's eyes dropped to the table.
"Hey, where'd Lij go?" Orli asked, just now noticing that Elijah hadn't come back to the table with them.
Dom replied, "Dunno. He left. Said something about taking a walk and catching a cab home." Sean looked like he wanted to say something but didn't want to look like he was too concerned that Elijah had left.
Billy was puzzling Dom's statement over. "He did seem a bit distracted." And all three boys looked perplexed for half a second before forgetting about it and deciding they just needed more alcohol.
Viggo watched Sean sweat it out, obviously still thinking about Elijah. Sean's erection had subsided somewhat, but Viggo could see that his eyes still flickered and burned. A tonic called Elijah was in his bloodstream, still fully active.
About 15 minutes after Elijah's departure, Sean caved. Stretching, he told the rest of his companions that he was about ready to call it a night. Viggo agreed with him and said he'd walk home with him. Sean looked startled and disturbed for a second as if he had forgotten that Viggo's car was still at his place from earlier in the evening. Sean lived in walking distance of the bar; Viggo did not. But of course Sean couldn't object. "Sure," he said.
They made their exit and walked outside. The autumn night was warm and soft. The day's leftover heat radiated from the concrete beneath their feet, and the dim shapes of summer's last flowers drooped in the darkness. The house the Sean was renting was only a 15 minute walk away, and it was a quiet shuffle. Viggo listened to the slap of shoe on sidewalk as he trailed his hand over a white fence that hemmed in someone's yard. In the dark, the paint's brightness was startling.
His car was parked on the side of the street so he waved and went around to the driver's side. Turning to get in, he saw that Sean had stopped in his tracks in the middle of the walk. His body was frozen, and Viggo looked past him. Elijah.
The boy was sitting on the second step of Sean's porch, half-smoked clove in one hand and half-hard cock in the other. He was just relaxing there, lazily smoking and petting himself and staring at Sean. The older man shuddered visibly - Viggo could see the outline of his torso shake.
Then Viggo realized he was still standing there, watching them, and it didn't look like Sean was going to move as long as he was still watching. Frowning, he reluctantly got into his car and turned it on. As he pulled away, in his rearview mirror he saw his friend step forward haltingly, a puppet moving at his handler's flick of the wrist.
Viggo turned his eyes back to the road just in time to avoid hitting the parked car on the side of the quiet street. He turned right at the corner to get on the road that would take him home, but found his hand steering the car right again so that he was on the other side of the block from Sean's house. What the fuck he thought, resigned. He parked the car, turned it off, and opened his glove compartment, looking for a pair of scissors. He was going to cut those damn puppet strings that Sean held him with; they were all tangled anyway, tangled up with Sean's own strings that bound him to Elijah, and maybe if Viggo just snipped all of them at once, they would all be free.
But there weren't any scissors in the glove box, and then he remembered that he'd taken them out a week ago and given them to Elijah so he could cut off a loose thread from his costume. Elijah hadn't given them back.
He got out and walked up the block, hands deep in his pockets. Turned right at the corner and right again, and there he was in front of Sean's house. Sean and Elijah were nowhere to be seen. Stepping lightly up onto the porch, he flipped up the cushion on the porch swing. There lay Sean's spare key, silvery and dull in the dark. He had seen his friend put it back there once when he'd forgotten his keys in the house. He picked it up, went over to the door, put it in the lock, and found that the door was already unlocked. That made him laugh quietly. Sean had probably been too distracted to remember to lock the door after them.
After putting the key back, Viggo stepped into the dim house and listened for telltale noises that would alert him to their presence. He didn't figure there was any way that Elijah was not there. Peeking quickly around downstairs, he saw nothing. He climbed the stairs softly, trying not to creak too much on them, and was rewarded when he heard a soft gasp from a room at the end of the hallway.
He crept forward. Dim yellow light from streetlamps slinking through windows and open doors on his right highlighted random patches on the hallway floor. He hopscotched over them silently, like Strider would if rangers hopscotched at all. He knew that if the light hit him, that was it.
A strangled shout on his left told him very clearly where Elijah and Sean were. The door to the room was partway open. He could see Sean through the crack between the door and wall where the hinges stood. He was standing in the center of the room, naked, thighs clenched, abs drawn tight as he leaned back slightly. He was looking down at Elijah, watching him suck him in deep. Viggo's earlier erection swiftly returned at the sight of Sean bracing himself and obviously trying to hold back and not choke the boy so diligently working him.
Viggo absently wondered why they were in this room. It was supposed to be the guest room, except it was empty of all furniture save a low futon in the middle of the room. Oddly enough, Sean kept sheets on the futon just on case. It was sleepable, Viggo figured. There was no carpeting, no pictures on the walls, no curtains on the windows. Just a brown room with slanted bars on the floor from the tawny light sleeping on the wood.
Who had wanted to use this room rather than Sean's bedroom? Sean, wanting to keep some distance from his puppeteer and not let him into personal spaces - impossible on such strings - or Elijah, trying to keep his puppet tied only to him, hanging in unfamiliar territory?
Through the crack, Viggo saw Elijah's pale hand knead the tensed muscle just above Sean's knee. Watched the hand slide up through the blond leg hair that Viggo couldn't see in the yellow light filtering in through the windows. The hand worked its way up to Sean's hip and began grafting itself onto his ass. Viggo unconsciously licked his lips and sighed lightly, watching the play of clenching muscles as Sean thrust into Elijah's mouth.
But he couldn't see Elijah in all this. He could see his hand, and with each thrust more or less of his sucking mouth and the tip of his nose jerked forward into view, but the rest of Elijah was missing. He was on the other side of the door. The crack wasn't big enough.
So Viggo shifted his weight and moved a few inches to his right to peer around the door. He felt uncomfortable, exposed in this position, but from here he could see the expression of satisfaction on Elijah's face, how he smiled around Sean's cock every time Sean grunted, how good he looked on his knees even still wearing all his clothes. His hair was messed up and spiky from Sean's marauding hands gripped in it; his eyes were slits of daydreamy pleasure.
If Elijah turned his head just a little to his left, he'd see Viggo standing in the doorway, and Viggo knew it, found it almost more exciting than the scene unfolding before him. Desperately, as quietly as possible, he unzipped his pants, the movement excruciating in its deliberate slowness. He pulled himself out through the V in his loosened jeans. He wasn't wearing any boxers to get in the way, but he didn't want to get too comfortable in case he had to quickly move out of the line of sight. Stroking himself, he imagined that his hand was Sean's hand and that it moved in rhythm to Elijah's mouth.
He forced his eyes to stay open so that he could continue watching Sean and Elijah. Moving back over to the crack in the door to watch Sean, he saw that Elijah's greedy little fingers were pressing into Sean's entrance, feathering over the cleft and wedging inward. Sean gripped the boy's hair tighter and widened his stance. Viggo could see his sweat gleam in the light, making shiny tracks down his back. By now Viggo was fisting his cock in time to Sean's thrusts. As Sean grew more urgent and less coordinated in his motion, Elijah pulled off his cock. Sean swore roughly at him. And oh god, that made Viggo almost come right then and there.
But Elijah was standing up now, looking around for something on the floor and Viggo shrank back to the wall of the hallway. The coolness of the plaster made his skin leap, a sharp contrast to the pulsing blood thrumming through him. He couldn't make himself release his own skin, couldn't stop his hand from lightly rolling his own heavy sac, couldn't keep his head from lolling against the wall.
The clack of a lid being flipped up and the tearing sound of foil ripping drew him back to the crack. Sean was sprawled on his back, lying on the futon six inches off the ground. Viggo watched his hands clench the sheets, wished they were clenching on his own cock. Elijah was lubing himself; slick and wet, his fingers squirmed their way one at a time into Sean. Sean moaned and raised his knees. Viggo bit his tongue to hold in his own sounds of desire and licked his fingers, coating them with saliva so that he could caress himself from inside out.
And Elijah took Sean on his back, facing him, even though there were easier ways for them to do it. Sean grimaced, his expression a mixture of pain and pleasure, and his body bowed up as Elijah sighed and sunk fully into him. Viggo thought he was going to explode and die from the attempt to do so quietly, except what he really wanted was not the rough jerk of his hand, but the tight heat that Elijah was encased in. That was what would tip him over the edge - to feel even a tenth of that heat for himself.
Viggo didn't know where to look. If he looked through the crack, he could watch the expression on Sean's face, see his shoulders - normally so strong and confident - twitch with need. But if he looked through the open doorway, he could see Elijah riding him hard, and Jesus, he didn't know which was hotter, the lithe body pounding into Sean's splayed, sweaty form or the open desire on Sean's face. Viggo wanted to lick the sweat off Sean's chest, Elijah's back, anywhere and everywhere on both of them.
Sean's hips spasmed violently when Elijah hit his prostate. He was groaning, begging Elijah to touch his cock and let him come, but Elijah, panting, managed a rather evil grin, Viggo thought, and refused. Instead he raked his fingers through the sweat and hair on Sean's chest and toyed with his nipples, pinching and pulling. Sean strained up for more, and Viggo could see that Elijah wasn't giving him enough - his touch was too light, too brief, just like the touch of Viggo's fingers on his own prostate. The position that Viggo had to hold himself in to be able to watch either Elijah or Sean and still touch himself wasn't exactly the best for deep finger fucking. So he went back to jerking himself off, wanting to come with his floorshow.
Elijah was first to come as his thrusts became shallow like his breathing, and then he relented and grabbed Sean's dick and leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Sean's eyes rolled back in his head as he gulped audibly at whatever the boy above him said, and Viggo thought he heard Sean sigh his name. Sean shuddered and shouted and came all over himself. In the aftermath, muscles relaxed and breathing slowed, became calmer. Elijah slid out with a slick sound as the now loosened ring of muscle at Sean's entrance released him from its wet embrace.
But Viggo still hadn't come. He was still held tight by some unknown tension as though he were waiting for something. He needed to, now, because he was so hard he was practically whimpering, because they might get up and find him.
Elijah swirled some of the come on Sean's flat stomach with the sweat there and swiped a fingertip through it. Turning his head, he looked directly at Viggo through the crack in the doorway, like he had known all along that Viggo was there. Traced that finger around his lips, still swollen from they way he'd been biting them while riding Sean. Then he licked his lips and slid the finger in his mouth, sucking, all while staring straight at Viggo. And Viggo was trapped, and he knew it and knew Elijah knew it, and a wave of heat washed over him. As embarrassment shuddered over him, he jerked his cock one last time and came, never looking away from Elijah's knowing eyes.
Sean's soft, sleepy exhalation was the only sound as Viggo took off his shirt and wiped himself off, tucked himself back into his pants and zipped them up. Then Elijah exhaled and Viggo, the marionette on a string that Elijah ultimately held, exhaled too. And finally with that breath he felt like maybe he was free now, and maybe when Sean woke up he'd be free too. He turned and walked down the stairs, not caring whether he made any noise.
Author:
rinsbanePairing: SB/EW/VM
Rating: NC17
Warning: Voyeurism
Summary: Viggo watches Sean, Sean watches Elijah, Elijah fucks with both of them.
Disclaimer: I don't really think Elijah's such a little bitch to the boys *g*, but I don't know for sure...
A/N: Enormous thanks to
milochka and moldava for the wonderful beta.Viggo watched the boys walk - or perhaps shamble was a more accurate word - into the dim bar. It looked like the hobbits and the elf had been to a club or two before making their way to meet Viggo and Bean, and though Orli in his bright green shirt immediately caught Viggo's eye, it was Elijah's skintight midnight blue shirt that held it. The fabric was shot through with metallic threads that glinted darkly when they caught the light.
Viggo snickered watching the boys. Dom and Billy tripped over each other's feet and fell forward into Elijah, throwing him against the table next to him. The girls sitting there giggled, and Elijah flashed a quick smile before continuing on to Viggo and Bean's table. Dom, more easily distracted by a pretty face and willing attitude, wasn't so quick to continue on.
Hearing Viggo's low laugh, Sean threw him a swift glance. Viggo schooled his features to display mild amusement appropriate to Viggo Mortensen, poet, actor, painter, photographer, benevolent king, unwilling and humble mentor to those younger, and slightly eccentric friend to Sean Bean. Sean was a fairly levelheaded, quiet kind of guy who, Viggo had long ago decided, was far better off seeing only what Viggo wanted him to. He was far too fond of their friendship to tell Sean how he really thought their relationship should be. So he always at least tried to behave himself around Sean.
But he didn't see anything wrong with studiously watching the sexy blond actor, and he'd been doing that since day one, trying to determine his chances of getting to know him…better. A lot better. He'd realized pretty quickly that Sean wasn't exclusively straight. Viggo was quite positive that a few months ago he'd been ditched one night for a slender black haired young thing, male young thing. Nope, Sean didn't have a problem with ass, but his "type" seemed to be pretty little boys. Boys like Orli and Elijah. Not men like Viggo.
Viggo scowled into his beer before he caught himself. He didn't believe in "types." He thought that a man should fuck whoever caught his eye, or be fucked by that same person - he liked to think he was flexible after all - and currently his eye was on Sean. Like it had been for the past few months. Except the longer he watched Sean, the more convinced he became that Sean was watching Elijah.
So yeah, while Viggo normally liked the little shit, he wasn't too happy with him now. Since he knew, just knew, that it was all Elijah's fault that his friend had been so distracted lately. Because while Sean might like that general type, Viggo was sure that there was no way he would ever even consider acting on his attraction if the boy hadn't been prodding him along.
He hadn't missed the stolen glances Elijah aimed at Sean, glances which gradually turned into blatant stares. He'd felt Sean jolt when they were standing next to each other and Elijah walked by. Had seen the bony white hand swipe Sean's ass. Had watched Elijah casually pinch his own nipples behind the façade of smoothing his shirt, had watched him suck on his finger, feeding it in and out of his mouth.
All such seemingly innocent, absent-minded gestures, but preformed so knowingly for his entranced audience of one.
Sure, Elijah had a fine ass, Viggo was more than willing to admit. Rest of him was pretty nice too. So he could see Sean's attraction. He just didn't like it. Especially since Viggo didn't believe for one second that the boy could be unaware of his appeal and believed even less that Elijah didn't use it to his advantage.
Excited noises interrupted his musings. The boys had arrived at the table, noisy and bearing drinks. One…two - bingo. Viggo watched Sean's eyes flicker on Elijah right on schedule before he looked at the others. Elijah, slipping himself into a chair, paid no attention.
Viggo let their conversation swirl around him like the smoke and heat of the bar, light waves of clear noise in the dark. Occasionally a crash, the soft punctuation of Billy's accent gone strong, the sharp puncture of Elijah's giggle, and then Sean's mellow tones washing over the ruptures in the melody. Eyes moved like the sound, drifting in the current of the speaker's voice and wandering over to latch onto the mouth delivering the next words as they entered the stream. Only Sean's gaze flowed too often to Elijah. Viggo wondered if they followed his own gaze and found it on themselves.
Orlando shoved back his chair and began pulling Billy up with him. "Where we goin?" Billy slurred.
"Pool table's free," Orlando answered as he dragged Billy after him, swaying slightly. The other guys remained at the table and Orlando turned to them, slightly huffy at their delay. "You coming?"
Dom got up and followed them. Elijah looked at Viggo and Sean, as if deciding. Sean flushed just a little bit at Elijah's direct gaze, only enough so that Viggo, who was sitting next to him, could see but not enough for Elijah to see. Viggo shrugged at Lij. "Count me out. We'll watch."
Elijah returned the shrug, loose and casual, and swiped his eyes over Sean, coolly, as if measuring him. Getting up, he walked over to the pool table and began chalking a cue. One hip was cocked out, sharp like his laughter, fine like the sheen of his young skin. The slippery midnight metallic threads in his shirt embraced the wan yellow light as a black hole might, sucking the light into themselves and dancing erotically with its stolen energy. Sean exhaled and inhaled quickly, as if he had been holding his breath.
He turned back to Viggo and tried to pick up the conversation where it had left off, but to Viggo it seemed as if Sean's mind had been caught on puppet strings. Elijah, that callous puppet master who would rip the strings off when he was through with them. Viggo wanted to warn Sean, wanted to tell him of the danger, but he didn't. Couldn't. He was too invested in this already. Was helpless to do anything but watch it unfold.
A distracted silence descended on Viggo and Sean as the pool-playing puppeteer pulled on the marionette strings. Viggo attempted to relax into his seat - an impossible thing to do when his body was already thrumming, responding to Sean's awareness of Elijah.
Elijah leaned over the table to line up his shot, his shirt shifting with him. He was facing them, and he raised his eyes to them, to Sean, in a level stare. Brief and potent. He wasn't paying any attention to Viggo, yet still Viggo felt the heat of his gaze. Sean sat transfixed as Elijah rose from his shot, rested the heel of the cue on the floor, and easily ran his hand over his chest. Though Viggo couldn't see skin through the dark shirt, he knew it was flat and sinewy with the strength of fresh muscles.
Sean leaned back against the frame of his chair and spread his legs apart slightly as though he could ease his increasing arousal. Viggo also noted, not without a hidden grin, that Sean had pulled his chair in closer to the table, probably trying to maintain some decency and not display the bulge in his pants to the world. Wasn't working, at least from Viggo's perspective, although that may have had something to do with the fact that Viggo was deliberately looking…
Sean's arousal was intoxicating. Viggo could almost smell the desire, could in fact smell the fine sweat breaking out on the tense body, and his flesh prickled in response as heat broke in tight waves over his body.
Their actions fell into place like the links in a chain. Elijah slid his hand into the back pocket on his jeans and pulled up, cupping his own ass. Witnessing it, Sean clenched his hand on his leg under the table and loudly exhaled again, and Viggo inhaled his breath in the next heartbeat, leaning towards Sean.
Elijah leaned his cue against the table and wedged his right hand into the other back pocket, stretching the denim taut against his ass. Sean's hand crept closer to his dick and settled with his fingers resting on his inner thigh, palm propped on leg and elbow bent outward; Viggo simply slipped further into his chair, concentrating on regulating his body's reactions to Sean's unintentionally provocative movements.
And when Elijah looked directly at Sean, took a drink of Orli's beer, and licked his lips in what *could* have been an innocent fashion in some alternate universe or on a two year old with an oral fixation, maybe, Sean flushed bright red and shuddered while his hand flexed on his cloth-covered dick. Viggo's own cock throbbed hard in sympathy, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he drained the rest of his beer in a vain effort to wet his suddenly dry mouth.
And just like that, Viggo had become another marionette, one belonging to the unwitting Sean. Every time Elijah yanked on Sean's strings, Viggo swung wildly in the wake of the pull. Viggo thought that the weirdest part of this whole jerky dance was that it had its own music, a theme song of sorts. Yes, their moves were choreographed to Paganini's La Campanella. It had the right sort of violin spasms, spasms that danced like the puppet strings in the boy's hands.
The pool game had finished, and Dom was crowing over his and Elijah's victory. Elijah leaned over and whispered something in Dom's ear that made Dom look temporarily confused. Then he shrugged and trudged back over to the table with Orlando and Billy. Elijah didn't follow; instead, he slipped though the crowd, and as the light ceased to pull at him, he became dark and sleek, an object that wasn't what it seemed to be.
Viggo watched Sean's eyes track Elijah's progress across the floor and to the door, and in a fresh wave of sound from the remaining boys, Elijah disappeared from sight. Sean's eyes dropped to the table.
"Hey, where'd Lij go?" Orli asked, just now noticing that Elijah hadn't come back to the table with them.
Dom replied, "Dunno. He left. Said something about taking a walk and catching a cab home." Sean looked like he wanted to say something but didn't want to look like he was too concerned that Elijah had left.
Billy was puzzling Dom's statement over. "He did seem a bit distracted." And all three boys looked perplexed for half a second before forgetting about it and deciding they just needed more alcohol.
Viggo watched Sean sweat it out, obviously still thinking about Elijah. Sean's erection had subsided somewhat, but Viggo could see that his eyes still flickered and burned. A tonic called Elijah was in his bloodstream, still fully active.
About 15 minutes after Elijah's departure, Sean caved. Stretching, he told the rest of his companions that he was about ready to call it a night. Viggo agreed with him and said he'd walk home with him. Sean looked startled and disturbed for a second as if he had forgotten that Viggo's car was still at his place from earlier in the evening. Sean lived in walking distance of the bar; Viggo did not. But of course Sean couldn't object. "Sure," he said.
They made their exit and walked outside. The autumn night was warm and soft. The day's leftover heat radiated from the concrete beneath their feet, and the dim shapes of summer's last flowers drooped in the darkness. The house the Sean was renting was only a 15 minute walk away, and it was a quiet shuffle. Viggo listened to the slap of shoe on sidewalk as he trailed his hand over a white fence that hemmed in someone's yard. In the dark, the paint's brightness was startling.
His car was parked on the side of the street so he waved and went around to the driver's side. Turning to get in, he saw that Sean had stopped in his tracks in the middle of the walk. His body was frozen, and Viggo looked past him. Elijah.
The boy was sitting on the second step of Sean's porch, half-smoked clove in one hand and half-hard cock in the other. He was just relaxing there, lazily smoking and petting himself and staring at Sean. The older man shuddered visibly - Viggo could see the outline of his torso shake.
Then Viggo realized he was still standing there, watching them, and it didn't look like Sean was going to move as long as he was still watching. Frowning, he reluctantly got into his car and turned it on. As he pulled away, in his rearview mirror he saw his friend step forward haltingly, a puppet moving at his handler's flick of the wrist.
Viggo turned his eyes back to the road just in time to avoid hitting the parked car on the side of the quiet street. He turned right at the corner to get on the road that would take him home, but found his hand steering the car right again so that he was on the other side of the block from Sean's house. What the fuck he thought, resigned. He parked the car, turned it off, and opened his glove compartment, looking for a pair of scissors. He was going to cut those damn puppet strings that Sean held him with; they were all tangled anyway, tangled up with Sean's own strings that bound him to Elijah, and maybe if Viggo just snipped all of them at once, they would all be free.
But there weren't any scissors in the glove box, and then he remembered that he'd taken them out a week ago and given them to Elijah so he could cut off a loose thread from his costume. Elijah hadn't given them back.
He got out and walked up the block, hands deep in his pockets. Turned right at the corner and right again, and there he was in front of Sean's house. Sean and Elijah were nowhere to be seen. Stepping lightly up onto the porch, he flipped up the cushion on the porch swing. There lay Sean's spare key, silvery and dull in the dark. He had seen his friend put it back there once when he'd forgotten his keys in the house. He picked it up, went over to the door, put it in the lock, and found that the door was already unlocked. That made him laugh quietly. Sean had probably been too distracted to remember to lock the door after them.
After putting the key back, Viggo stepped into the dim house and listened for telltale noises that would alert him to their presence. He didn't figure there was any way that Elijah was not there. Peeking quickly around downstairs, he saw nothing. He climbed the stairs softly, trying not to creak too much on them, and was rewarded when he heard a soft gasp from a room at the end of the hallway.
He crept forward. Dim yellow light from streetlamps slinking through windows and open doors on his right highlighted random patches on the hallway floor. He hopscotched over them silently, like Strider would if rangers hopscotched at all. He knew that if the light hit him, that was it.
A strangled shout on his left told him very clearly where Elijah and Sean were. The door to the room was partway open. He could see Sean through the crack between the door and wall where the hinges stood. He was standing in the center of the room, naked, thighs clenched, abs drawn tight as he leaned back slightly. He was looking down at Elijah, watching him suck him in deep. Viggo's earlier erection swiftly returned at the sight of Sean bracing himself and obviously trying to hold back and not choke the boy so diligently working him.
Viggo absently wondered why they were in this room. It was supposed to be the guest room, except it was empty of all furniture save a low futon in the middle of the room. Oddly enough, Sean kept sheets on the futon just on case. It was sleepable, Viggo figured. There was no carpeting, no pictures on the walls, no curtains on the windows. Just a brown room with slanted bars on the floor from the tawny light sleeping on the wood.
Who had wanted to use this room rather than Sean's bedroom? Sean, wanting to keep some distance from his puppeteer and not let him into personal spaces - impossible on such strings - or Elijah, trying to keep his puppet tied only to him, hanging in unfamiliar territory?
Through the crack, Viggo saw Elijah's pale hand knead the tensed muscle just above Sean's knee. Watched the hand slide up through the blond leg hair that Viggo couldn't see in the yellow light filtering in through the windows. The hand worked its way up to Sean's hip and began grafting itself onto his ass. Viggo unconsciously licked his lips and sighed lightly, watching the play of clenching muscles as Sean thrust into Elijah's mouth.
But he couldn't see Elijah in all this. He could see his hand, and with each thrust more or less of his sucking mouth and the tip of his nose jerked forward into view, but the rest of Elijah was missing. He was on the other side of the door. The crack wasn't big enough.
So Viggo shifted his weight and moved a few inches to his right to peer around the door. He felt uncomfortable, exposed in this position, but from here he could see the expression of satisfaction on Elijah's face, how he smiled around Sean's cock every time Sean grunted, how good he looked on his knees even still wearing all his clothes. His hair was messed up and spiky from Sean's marauding hands gripped in it; his eyes were slits of daydreamy pleasure.
If Elijah turned his head just a little to his left, he'd see Viggo standing in the doorway, and Viggo knew it, found it almost more exciting than the scene unfolding before him. Desperately, as quietly as possible, he unzipped his pants, the movement excruciating in its deliberate slowness. He pulled himself out through the V in his loosened jeans. He wasn't wearing any boxers to get in the way, but he didn't want to get too comfortable in case he had to quickly move out of the line of sight. Stroking himself, he imagined that his hand was Sean's hand and that it moved in rhythm to Elijah's mouth.
He forced his eyes to stay open so that he could continue watching Sean and Elijah. Moving back over to the crack in the door to watch Sean, he saw that Elijah's greedy little fingers were pressing into Sean's entrance, feathering over the cleft and wedging inward. Sean gripped the boy's hair tighter and widened his stance. Viggo could see his sweat gleam in the light, making shiny tracks down his back. By now Viggo was fisting his cock in time to Sean's thrusts. As Sean grew more urgent and less coordinated in his motion, Elijah pulled off his cock. Sean swore roughly at him. And oh god, that made Viggo almost come right then and there.
But Elijah was standing up now, looking around for something on the floor and Viggo shrank back to the wall of the hallway. The coolness of the plaster made his skin leap, a sharp contrast to the pulsing blood thrumming through him. He couldn't make himself release his own skin, couldn't stop his hand from lightly rolling his own heavy sac, couldn't keep his head from lolling against the wall.
The clack of a lid being flipped up and the tearing sound of foil ripping drew him back to the crack. Sean was sprawled on his back, lying on the futon six inches off the ground. Viggo watched his hands clench the sheets, wished they were clenching on his own cock. Elijah was lubing himself; slick and wet, his fingers squirmed their way one at a time into Sean. Sean moaned and raised his knees. Viggo bit his tongue to hold in his own sounds of desire and licked his fingers, coating them with saliva so that he could caress himself from inside out.
And Elijah took Sean on his back, facing him, even though there were easier ways for them to do it. Sean grimaced, his expression a mixture of pain and pleasure, and his body bowed up as Elijah sighed and sunk fully into him. Viggo thought he was going to explode and die from the attempt to do so quietly, except what he really wanted was not the rough jerk of his hand, but the tight heat that Elijah was encased in. That was what would tip him over the edge - to feel even a tenth of that heat for himself.
Viggo didn't know where to look. If he looked through the crack, he could watch the expression on Sean's face, see his shoulders - normally so strong and confident - twitch with need. But if he looked through the open doorway, he could see Elijah riding him hard, and Jesus, he didn't know which was hotter, the lithe body pounding into Sean's splayed, sweaty form or the open desire on Sean's face. Viggo wanted to lick the sweat off Sean's chest, Elijah's back, anywhere and everywhere on both of them.
Sean's hips spasmed violently when Elijah hit his prostate. He was groaning, begging Elijah to touch his cock and let him come, but Elijah, panting, managed a rather evil grin, Viggo thought, and refused. Instead he raked his fingers through the sweat and hair on Sean's chest and toyed with his nipples, pinching and pulling. Sean strained up for more, and Viggo could see that Elijah wasn't giving him enough - his touch was too light, too brief, just like the touch of Viggo's fingers on his own prostate. The position that Viggo had to hold himself in to be able to watch either Elijah or Sean and still touch himself wasn't exactly the best for deep finger fucking. So he went back to jerking himself off, wanting to come with his floorshow.
Elijah was first to come as his thrusts became shallow like his breathing, and then he relented and grabbed Sean's dick and leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Sean's eyes rolled back in his head as he gulped audibly at whatever the boy above him said, and Viggo thought he heard Sean sigh his name. Sean shuddered and shouted and came all over himself. In the aftermath, muscles relaxed and breathing slowed, became calmer. Elijah slid out with a slick sound as the now loosened ring of muscle at Sean's entrance released him from its wet embrace.
But Viggo still hadn't come. He was still held tight by some unknown tension as though he were waiting for something. He needed to, now, because he was so hard he was practically whimpering, because they might get up and find him.
Elijah swirled some of the come on Sean's flat stomach with the sweat there and swiped a fingertip through it. Turning his head, he looked directly at Viggo through the crack in the doorway, like he had known all along that Viggo was there. Traced that finger around his lips, still swollen from they way he'd been biting them while riding Sean. Then he licked his lips and slid the finger in his mouth, sucking, all while staring straight at Viggo. And Viggo was trapped, and he knew it and knew Elijah knew it, and a wave of heat washed over him. As embarrassment shuddered over him, he jerked his cock one last time and came, never looking away from Elijah's knowing eyes.
Sean's soft, sleepy exhalation was the only sound as Viggo took off his shirt and wiped himself off, tucked himself back into his pants and zipped them up. Then Elijah exhaled and Viggo, the marionette on a string that Elijah ultimately held, exhaled too. And finally with that breath he felt like maybe he was free now, and maybe when Sean woke up he'd be free too. He turned and walked down the stairs, not caring whether he made any noise.
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Date: 2003-07-02 09:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-03 10:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-02 09:12 pm (UTC)This is so incredibly well-written. This sentence: The slippery midnight metallic threads in his shirt embraced the wan yellow light as a black hole might, sucking the light into themselves and dancing erotically with its stolen energy. is incredible. Really.
But damn, I hate Elijah right now. I'll get over it. But grr.
Thal
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Date: 2003-07-03 10:53 am (UTC)And thanks for commenting--glad you enjoyed!
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Date: 2003-07-02 09:55 pm (UTC)PS, Sean bottoming to the boy? *wibble* Unexpected role shifts SO turn me on.
no subject
Date: 2003-07-03 10:57 am (UTC)And I thought for a while that Elijah would bottom, but Viggo informed me otherwise *g* Had to be Sean...
Re:
Date: 2003-07-03 03:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-03 01:04 am (UTC)I loved the flow of the story and together with 3 of my favourite men... i'd say this fic just about make my day. Good job!
Nessa
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Date: 2003-07-03 11:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-03 11:20 pm (UTC)Nessa
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Date: 2003-07-03 01:24 am (UTC)Now, I am waiting for Sean and Viggo to gang up on Elijah... c'mon, you know Viggo wants him *smirks*
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Date: 2003-07-03 11:07 am (UTC)Wouldn't it be great if Sean and Vig ganged up on the boy? poor thing...I feel sort of bad for him. Maybe after I finish the fic I'm writing. Dunno. Actually, after this next one, I think I'm gonna challenge myself to write a fic *without* Elijah or at least with a nice Elijah. *g* have to see if I can even do it...
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Date: 2003-07-03 12:22 pm (UTC)I think it really calls for a Sean-Viggo "let's get even with Elijah", though I see it more as a Viggo thing, maybe Sean's worked the boy out of his system now. I'd be tempted to tackle it myself if I wasn't already tangled in some S/V summer fluff and long-weekending out of town (no web access, sigh) for several days
Re:
Date: 2003-07-03 07:18 pm (UTC)