"Inclusion", (VM/SB, VM/OB/LT), Nc17, 1/1

[chaosmanor.livejournal.com]

Title: Inclusion
Author: Elaine Kemp kaitlin@echidna.id.au
Pairing: VM/SB; VM/OB/LT
Disclaimer: Fiction. Absolutely, completely bullshit.
Rating: NC17
Betaed: by Celebrian and Mina
Warnings: Heterosexual content. Minor medical squick.
Summary: A problem shared is a problem halved, and then commented on by everyone within hearing.


This was weird, Viggo thought. More than weird.

Liv flickered her tongue against his lips, and he opened his mouth, taking her in, sliding his tongue into her mouth.

Weird.

She slid her hand down to the front of his jeans, brushing over his hardening cock; rubbing through the material; making him kiss her harder.

But so fucking good, he thought as he slid a hand under her top, finding her breasts.

He opened his eyes again, looking across his studio- and Orlando was still leaning against the wall, watching them dispassionately.

Fucking actors, he thought. It’s their job to not let how they feel show on their faces. How did Orli feel about Liv kissing him? He and Orli had been lovers until Liv had reappeared, and she and Orli had been inseparable since then. Complicated wasn’t a strong enough word for it.

Then Liv whimpered against his mouth, and he closed his eyes and surrendered.

Thinking was vastly overrated.

There was movement behind him: a mouth on his neck; hands sliding up under his t-shirt, and –oh God- a cock rubbing against the ass of his jeans.

Orli had slid a hand into the waistband of his jeans and found his cock, and Viggo was leaning back against him, kissing him; when there was a push at the door and someone said, “Fuck. Excuse me.” Then the door slammed shut.

Sean.

Viggo pulled his mouth away, guided Orli’s hand out of his jeans. “I’ve got to go. Sean’s really upset about something already. This won’t have helped.”

Liv slid a hand up Viggo’s chest and smiled at him.

Viggo shook his head and said, “Elijah’s passed out on the spare bed. Move him to the couch, and take the spare room. I really need to find out what’s wrong with Sean.”
* * * * * * * * * * *

Viggo found Sean outside on the deck.

“Why are you so angry?”

Sean kept his head turned away from Viggo, and his voice was apologetic. “I’m not angry. And I’m sorry I interrupted.”

There was silence and then Viggo said, “Are you drunk?” Sean nodded, and Viggo said, “So am I.”

Viggo slid his hand up Sean’s arm, feeling the familiar frisson of desire run through him. He’d wanted Sean since the moment he’d first seen him. “If you’re not angry, what’s wrong? Why are you hiding out here? Tell me now, when we’re both pissed and can pretend later on that you never spoke and I never heard.”

Sean turned to face Viggo. “I get so frustrated, and I feel so excluded sometimes, when we are all altogether.”

“I’ve never intended to exclude you,” Viggo said

“No.” Sean shook his head. “You never have. But how many of the people here have you slept with? Because I can’t tell; not from watching you all.”

Viggo considered, looking back into the lounge room through the sliding glass doors, to the throng of people, to where Billy and Dom seemed to be playing strip Monopoly. “Here tonight? Only Orlando. No one else. Though I’d have to count what you just walked in on as an invitation from Liv.”

“How many people since you arrived in New Zealand?”

Viggo looked carefully at Sean. “That’s an odd question. Ummm. Four. Orlando, the cute guy from Weta, Denise in make-up and … ummm… Phillipa.”

“Phillipa? Jesus, Viggo, you’re not supposed to sleep with the bosses. I’ve slept with no one. Nobody.”

“Is this what you’re feeling excluded about? Because you’ve said ‘No’ to me twice, I might remind you, so don’t claim you never get any offers.”

“No, it’s the way you all hug and kiss each other.”

Viggo thought a bit. Some of them were close; especially now they were filming for 12 hours a day, plus make-up; six days a week; and rehearsing on Sundays sometimes. Boundaries had blurred, and the Hobbits now bounced on him and Ian as much as they did Orli. But not Sean. He was the only one who ever touched Sean, with good reason. He had seen Sean flinch away from Orli when Orli would have hugged him, and had also seen the hurt on Orli’s face even though he pretended not to notice.

Sean looked out over the garden, “My second wife said I was no good at intimacy; that I could never be close to anyone without sex first. That I couldn’t hug anyone who wasn’t a lover.”

Viggo was surprised at the bitterness in Sean’s voice, he had never borne that sort of bitterness towards Exene; even in the grim early days of their separation. “Tell me what’s wrong. Please. Because something obviously is wrong”

Sean spoke quietly. “I’ve got CBP: Chronic bacterial prostatitis. It hurts to be hard and it’s excruciatingly painful to ejaculate. So, no sex. That’s why I turned you down; not because I didn’t want to fuck you.”

Viggo reached out and pulled Sean into his arms and said, “I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sean hugged him back and said, “It’s so fucking humiliating. I couldn’t make myself tell you. And my second wife was right. I’m no good at being close to people without sex.”

“There’s treatment, isn’t there?”

Sean nodded. “Long term antibiotics and anti-inflammatories. It may take months or years to resolve.”

They stayed wrapped around each other, and the noise of the party surged around them as the sliding door opened. Billy stumbled out onto the deck, looked at them and said, “Woopsy” and went back inside.

Sean spoke, mouth pressed against Viggo’s neck, words muffled by his hair. “I miss this so much, just being held.”

“Let me help. We can be close without sex.”

Sean nodded against Viggo’s shoulder and held him tighter.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Elijah was asleep on the couch, bucket beside him, as they made their way through the lounge room, stepping over the abandoned monopoly game, threading through the people still crowding the room.

When they got to Viggo’s room, Sean asked, “Have you got a hot-water bottle? It helps with the pain.”

Viggo nodded. “Sure. I’ll be back in a moment. Make yourself comfortable.”

Viggo tracked down a hot-water bottle in the laundry and went to the kitchen to fill it, finding Billy and Dom already there, making pancakes under Ian’s supervision. They looked at him oddly when he filled the bottle from the kettle, and even more oddly when he opened a cupboard and took out a bottle of olive oil. As he was leaving, Ian asked “Viggo?” but he ignored them all and went back to his bedroom.

Sean was kneeling in front of the bookshelf, considering the titles, when Viggo came in carrying the bottle of oil and a hot-water bottle wrapped in a towel. He stood up, holding a slim book.

Viggo nodded at the book and said, “Do you want to borrow it?”

Sean smiled and said “Hemmingway’s ‘Fiesta’? I haven’t read it in twenty years. Perhaps I should.”

Viggo took the book out of Sean’s hands and slid his hands up the other’s arms and kissed him softly. Sean sighed and kissed him back, moving his lips gently, and pulled them closer together, so their bodies brushed. Viggo could feel Sean’s erection pressing against him, and his own body, already frustrated by the encounter with Orli and Liv, responded instantly. He fought with himself not to deepen the kiss; not pull them closer together. Tonight was about gentleness, not passion.

Sean broke the kiss and pulled his t-shirt over his head, and Viggo followed his lead, saying “Do you want to lie down on the bed, and I’ll rub your back?”

Sean nodded and lay down, pushing the hot water bottle under him and a pillow under one hip. “I can’t lie flat” he explained.

Viggo knelt beside him on the bed and poured oil into his hand. He slid his hands over Sean’s back, feeling the skin beneath his fingers, feeling the muscles, finding tightness and coaxing it loose. He stroked Sean’s ribs, kneaded his shoulders, pressing his fingers in, until Sean was making small noises of pleasure beneath him, each breath out a sigh.

Viggo leant forward and whispered, “Roll over,” against Sean’s ear.

Sean sighed again and rolled over, pushing aside the pillow and hot-water bottle. Viggo took each hand in his in turn and caressed each finger; circled his thumbs over each palm; then interlaced each hand with his own and leant forward to kiss Sean who smiled softly; his pupils were hugely dilated in the quiet room.

“Let me touch you,” he whispered to Viggo.

Viggo nodded and stretched out on his back. Sean settled across Viggo’s hips, making Viggo uncomfortably aware of how hard he was; how hard they both were. Sean slid his oiled hands over Viggo’s chest, hair crinkling beneath his fingers. He pushed his hands up the sides of Viggo’s torso, firmly enough not to tickle, and then placed Viggo’s hands above his head. He touched all the quiet places on Viggo, where the skin was pale and soft and never seen; where no one had ever touched before; watching Viggo’s eyes all the time, never looking away. And the world was silent apart from their breathing; nothing existing outside of the circle of light falling on the bed.

Sean lay down on the bed beside Viggo and gently touched his face: stroking brow, dragging thumb over cheekbones, easing fingers along jaw line and then, finally, sliding his fingers into Viggo’s mouth. Viggo shivered and sucked gently on his fingers until Sean moaned at the slide of tongue over fingers.

“Enough?” Viggo mouthed around the fingers.

Sean nodded. “Stopping would be a smart move.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Viggo was nearly asleep when Sean started to dream, when he moved and muttered and pushed the covers down. Viggo propped himself up on one elbow and edged aside the curtain, and a little light seeped into the room. The tension on Sean’s face showed this was no ordinary dream, and when Sean pushed a hand under the covers and stroked the erection that was pressing up against the blankets, Viggo reached out a hand and shook his shoulder.

“Sean, wake-up,” he whispered.

Sean woke instantly, startled. “Fuck.”

“You were dreaming. I thought I needed to wake you.”

Sean closed his eyes briefly. “I was dreaming about you and Orli and Liv and me. Christ.” He lay still for a minute. “I can’t bear this. I haven’t come for so long. I just have to,” he whispered, and then groaned as he slid his hand into his shorts.

“Can I help?” Viggo asked, as Sean pushed down his boxers.

Sean shook his head. “Just hold me. I want to feel you,” Sean said and Viggo pulled off his own boxers and Sean lay next to him, skin to skin. Viggo guided his hand to his own cock, and as Sean stroked him, he made himself keep his eyes open; to watch the concentration on Sean’s face until the building pressure of his orgasm overwhelmed everything and he came, gasping helplessly.

Sean lay back and Viggo pulled him close in his arms and watched as Sean placed his thumb behind the head of his cock and rubbed tiny circles on the shaft with two fingers. Viggo could clearly feel the building tension in Sean’s body; felt his back arch, watched helplessly as Sean came, face contorted, crying out loud with pain.

Viggo grabbed some tissues from the bedside table, trying not to think about the rusty colour of Sean’s cum, and wiped them both clean, then held Sean until he had stopped shaking.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

The next morning the smell of coffee made Viggo pull on his clothes and wander out to the kitchen, leaving Sean still asleep. Orlando was standing in the kitchen holding two cups, surveying a bench top smeared in pancake batter, as the percolator gurgled. They hugged and the early morning smell and warmth of Orlando’s skin made Viggo smile. Viggo spread a tea towel over the mess and said, “That better?”

Orli grinned at him and said, “Early morning stupids. I should have thought of that” and began to line up cups. Through the doorway they could see Elijah stirring on the couch. “What did you do to make Sean yell like he did? It sounded like he was in pain, but I couldn’t imagine you hurting him.”

Viggo shrugged, having no idea how to answer Orli.

Orli shrugged back at him. “Have you got any fags? I’ve lost mine.”


A few minutes later, Sean found the kitchen empty and the percolator full. He poured himself a cup, and leant carefully against the bench, avoiding the congealing mess.

Liv appeared, wearing only a St. Lawrence Uni. T-shirt that came down to her thighs, and said, “Sean, make me coffee, sweet and white, please, before I die.” She spotted Viggo and Orlando on the deck, leaning against the railing, smoking. “Thanks for the coffee, Orli,” she called out, making Elijah moan and rollover on the couch.

Orli waved and called back, “Sorry, babe.”

Sean handed her the coffee and she drank half the cup down and wrapped her arms around Sean. “You’re a darling.” Sean hugged her back and she relaxed against him, resting her head on his bare shoulder. “Would never have picked you for a screamer, honey,” she said.

Sean kissed her hair. “It seems to be a recent thing.”

She chuckled against his skin. Orli came in, kissed her on the cheek, and then Sean. “Must feed Elijah some orange juice, or he’ll never regain consciousness,” he said, opening the fridge.



Elijah sat up and drank the juice, then held his head in his hands. “Fuck, my head hurts. Why didn’t you stop me drinking, Orli?”

Orli grinned. “Because you’re supposed to be a grown-up, and hangovers are your own fault.”

Elijah looked ill for a moment, then said, “Who was screaming their head off last night? They woke me up.”

“Sean,” said Orli, extending his hand to Elijah. “You shower, I’ll find you something for the hangover.”


In the kitchen, Sean stood contentedly holding Liv. When Viggo came in search of coffee, Sean said, “You know, my second wife was wrong.”

Comments

[karelian]

I thought this was great the first time through and just read it again and it just gets better -- I like imperfect sex stories to begin with, and this one is so emotionally powerful. I love the way they all look out for each other.

[chaosmanor.livejournal.com]

I like the possibilities in imperfect sex. So much more can unfold.

Glad you enjoyed the story.

[helens78]

Oh, Christ, this is fantastic. I feel so sorry for Sean, and his need for it... ah. Beautiful.

[chaosmanor.livejournal.com]

Thankyou

[chaosmanor.livejournal.com]

Writing the sequel. Expect smut.