rugbytackle | FIC: The Orange Grove: Safe (SB/VM, NC17, 29/32)

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TITLE: The Orange Grove (29/32): Safe
AUTHOR: Cinzia and Gloria
Full headers here

Viggo felt dizzy. There was still electricity crackling in the air around them both -- the short hairs on his arms were prickling with it -- and he couldn't stop kissing Sean, not even to breathe.

Sean's skin felt so hot against his own bare chest that Viggo expected steam to rise from them both. He rocked his hips against Sean's, comforted beyond words and wildly aroused at the feel of Sean's erection pressing against him through the thin sweatpants, more compelling than any spoken 'yes'. Sean's arms tightened around him, sliding across his rain-slick back. Viggo gave himself up to Sean's kiss, made ravenous by that peculiar taste; oranges, tobacco, salt, musk. The salt was from the sore place where he'd bitten his lip, thinking of Sean; the taste, the scent, of orange was from the orchard around them. He thought the oranges must be ripe by now. He'd dreamt -- he remembered it now -- dreamt of being here, once: of reaching up to pluck a ripe orange that hung from a branch above his head. Something about arrows, too; something about Boromir, lying under this tree ... He hadn't been able to reach the orange, or maybe he'd reached it and it hadn't been ripe. But he could taste ripe oranges in Sean's kiss, oranges and blood and Sean, and that was too immediate to leave space for dreams.

Sean kissed as though there had never been any doubt about whether he wanted Viggo. It was the sort of kiss that made Viggo feel utterly claimed. He pressed closer when Sean moaned into his mouth, kissing as though, eventually, he might get through all the frustration and desire that had begun with Sean's kiss on the beach that night. Ten days' worth of wanting Sean; it felt like much longer. Years longer.

Sean pulled back from the kiss. It was too dark to see his expression, but he was still embracing Viggo; otherwise Viggo would simply have dropped to his knees in front of Sean, pulling him down into the wet grass under the orange tree, or just feeling his way, hands and mouth never leaving Sean's skin...

Viggo felt Sean's hand, a sudden touch, on his face. Sighing, he turned his head to kiss Sean's palm.

"Want you, Vig. So much..." Sean's voice was soft and husky, deliciously private underneath the sound of rain falling on leaves. His mouth descended, incendiary as a lightning strike, on the curve of Viggo's neck.

"I want you," Viggo said, low and intense, groaning as Sean bit gently at his throat. He slid his hand down across Sean's chest, exulting in the way that Sean shivered and moaned against him as Viggo's thumb pressed briefly against his nipple. "Tell me what you want, Sean."

It was like being thirsty, except that with thirst you could drink your fill, and he didn't think he could get enough of Sean. He wanted, when he thought about it, to take things at Sean's pace, afraid of pushing too fast and making Sean change his mind; but he couldn't just wait for Sean to assuage his thirst. "Tell me," he urged again, holding onto Sean the way Sean'd held onto him, determined not to let him go -- terrified that Sean might want to let go.

"I want you," Sean said, lifting his mouth from Viggo's neck. Despite the rain, Viggo could feel Sean's hot breath against the tender skin below his ear. "Want you in my bed -- want to be inside you, you inside me -- want -- fuck!"

The thin, soaked sweatpants disguised nothing; Sean's erection pulsed against Viggo's hand as though they were skin to skin. They both moaned at the sensation. Sean pushed up into Viggo's palm.

"Wanna get naked in the rain?" Viggo murmured, grinning, and licked Sean's neck. "No one around to see us." He gave Sean's erection a squeeze, and began to unbutton his own jeans.

"Crazy fucker!" But Sean was laughing, trying to wriggle out of his sweats without letting go of Viggo. Viggo's wet jeans clung to his legs, and he cursed; then Sean tackled him, or perhaps he stumbled. They ended up on the slippery grass under the orange tree, Viggo kicking his jeans off and Sean kissing him more passionately than ever. Their cocks slid together, and Viggo hooked his leg around Sean's hip, pulling him closer, breathless with laughter and arousal. The perfume of oranges was much stronger now.

"God, Viggo..." Sean pulled back from the kiss, running his hand over Viggo's face as if he was trying to learn it, in the dark. "How come we never --"

"It was different then," Viggo said, catching Sean's hand and kissing his palm. He thought of the night he'd dreamt of Boromir dying. He'd come out to sit here, under this tree, and Sean had come to him. And Sean had pulled him down, just like this, as close as they'd lain, long ago and far away, for Boromir's death scene.

Now it was different. Now Sean was lying here naked in the rain with him, breath fast and uneven, rocking his hips against Viggo's, such a sweet ache... "We've come so far," he said, tilting his head back for Sean to kiss him again, wishing he could photograph the smell of oranges, the crackle of electricity, the sound of the rain.

"Let's go to bed," Sean said, lips against Viggo's throat. "Let me..."

Viggo took advantage of the moment of hesitation. He braced himself and rolled, ending up on top of Sean.

"Take me to bed," he murmured, leaning down. "I want you to fuck me."

Sean made a wordless noise, and Viggo wished he could see his face. His cock leapt against Viggo's as he arched up, kissing Viggo hungrily.

Viggo twisted free and stood up. "C'mon," he said, finding Sean's hand and hauling him upright. Lightning, like a flash bulb, showed him Sean's grin.

It took a while to get upstairs, because they kept stopping to kiss. Water was running from Viggo's wet hair down his back; Sean's feet were muddy, and he blushed when Viggo stopped at the top of the stairs to look at him. Viggo couldn't stop looking, though; Sean, naked and muddy, was beautiful, and Viggo wanted to spend all night admiring him.

He made himself breathe deeply, lying on Sean's bed and waiting for him to come back from the bathroom. Even with the windows open, the room was hot; outside, the rain was still pouring down, and thunder rumbled inland as the storm moved north towards the mountains. Viggo lay on top of the covers, getting aroused all over again -- as if he needed that! -- by the smell of Sean.

At last Sean was back. Viggo didn't try to pretend that he wasn't staring, and Sean blushed and grinned. He dropped a condom packet and a tube of hand cream on the bedside table, and knelt down beside the bed.

"Vig, are you sure you --"

"Want this?" Viggo purred. "Hell, yeah."

"Want me?" He was grinning, but the doubt was clear. "I'm not ... not young, I've got no idea ... What about your pretty Greek boy?"

"Well," said Viggo, rolling over so that his mouth was next to Sean's, "I didn't think I could have you." He dropped a kiss, very gently, at the corner of Sean's mouth.

"Thought I was going to be the one having you," said Sean, nodding at the condoms. His hand followed the curve of Viggo's ribcage, and Viggo shivered.

"C'mon, then." He rolled onto his back, making space, and Sean lay down next to him.

Despite the kisses in the orchard, it could have been difficult between them, now they were out of the rain and back into the light. But Viggo wanted this so much now, wanted Sean over him, inside him, kissing him, fucking him... Useless to try to take it easy, try to keep it slow for Sean. Useless to resist the way he felt; all he could do was to hope that it would be infectious. That Sean would be carried away by Viggo's passion even if his own were lacking.

When Sean touched him he gasped and arched up against Sean's hand, turning his head to meet Sean's kiss. Sean's touch was magical, hot and cold at the same time, making him shiver. Outside the storm was coming nearer again, and the lamplight seemed thick and golden in contrast to the sudden, intense flashes of lightning. Viggo could still smell oranges, although the slick stuff on Sean's fingers smelt only, faintly, of flowers. He could hear himself pleading for more whenever Sean's fingers, or his mouth, left Viggo's body. So much he wanted to do to Sean, and yet he felt paralysed, unable to act until Sean had finished claiming him.

And Sean was being so conscientious, so gentle ... working a single slick finger into Viggo's body until he was begging for another, and then twisting two fingers in together, so slowly that Viggo was trembling with need. He wanted to tell Sean how desperate he was, how ready ... but it felt so good to have Sean focussed on him this intently, every movement so careful that he was breaking Viggo apart.

No question, now, of Sean not wanting this. He was teasing Viggo, stretching him and stroking him, mouth on his nipple, mouth astoundingly on his cock, tensing but not stopping when Viggo pushed helplessly up; then leaning down to kiss Viggo for a long time, deep and intense and breathless, as Viggo rolled the condom onto him.

Viggo stretched himself out under Sean, moaning, feeling Sean's cock push against him. Sean's eyes were closed, and he was biting his lip; for a moment Viggo wondered if he knew it was different ... Then Sean pushed, pushed into him hard -- one sudden, convulsive, almost painful thrust -- and he was inside Viggo.

They were still for a moment, staring at one another as though they'd woken suddenly. Then Sean smiled, that slow, broad, luminous smile that had always made Viggo ache, and he moved.

And Viggo realised what he'd been aching for.

"God, Viggo! This is..." Sean abandoned the sentence, kissing his throat, thrusting harder. "You feel wonderful. So ... fucking hot..."

Sweat was running off his back, mixing with Viggo's as he arched up into Sean's thrusts, desperate for more, wanting it to go on for ever and yet aching to come. Sean was so hot inside him, stretching him, and his own cock was burning his hand, and he expected steam, again, as if they were still out in the rain.

"You're wonderful," he managed, gasping. He wanted to make Sean feel this good, wanted to fuck him slow and hard the way that Sean was doing to him, wanted to make him moan and beg like this ... Not that there was anything wrong with being on this side of it. And Sean's smile was euphoric, his breath fragmenting around Viggo's name ... he paused, balancing above Viggo, and Viggo moaned, muscles clenching around Sean's cock, trying to pull him deeper.

"I want this from you," said Sean breathlessly, staring into Viggo's eyes. "I want you."

"Fuck, Sean...!" And Viggo was coming, gone, body convulsing and head back as he cried out.

Sean swore, and tried to say Viggo's name once more as he thrust deeper, but he was coming too, gasping for breath ... collapsing onto Viggo, both of them sticky with sweat and semen.

The room seemed very quiet, a bubble of stillness surrounded by the gentle drumming of rain falling on dry ground. There was so much that Viggo wanted to say to Sean. So much that ...

Sean was smiling at him so happily, so blissfully, that Viggo thought they might not need words, not tonight.

Current Mood: hot
Current Music: Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds: Babe I'm on Fire