rugbytackle | FIC: Sort of Special Like (Viggo/Bean, NC-17, kink)

Title: Sort of Special Like 1/?
Author:

padawanhilary
Rating: NC-17
Categories: LotRPS (Viggo/Bean, eventual Viggo/Bean/Orli)
Archive: not right now
Warning: mild kink
Disclaimers: Not RL; didn't happen. If you think this has anything to do with the real actors involved, then you need to put down the crack pipe.
Summary/Notes: Viggo sees marks and decides to improve on them. Even then, there's more to Sean than meets the eye. Takes place sometime during the filming of LotR. Please note, I did get permission to post this here to

rugbytackle even though it looks like it's going to the Viggo/Bean/Orli place. We're not yet sure how much of a factor Orli will be, but I thought I better warn people who don't like him coming into their OTP. *g*

Viggo's standing a little crooked, watching Sean, curious. He's tilted his head and bummed a smoke and had idle conversation and lusted silently as Sean made unwitting demurrals about things he didn't even know Viggo was about to ask. Is Sean straight? Is he just bent enough to be sweet in bed, a little vanilla coating over a rugby inside? Or is he as crooked as Viggo really hopes he is? Viggo's staring, thinking he can't wait to find out.

"What're you looking at, then?" Sean asks, not all that angry at Viggo's scrutiny. See something you like? Something you like enough to grab maybe?

He's been watching Viggo, knowing that Viggo's as bent as the day is long and wondering when ... or if, Viggo will make his move.

"You've got some..." Viggo's got the cigarette between two fingers and is gesturing with it in the vicinity of Sean's neck. "What is that?" They're bite marks. Viggo just wants to hear the words.

"Do I?" Sean asks blandly. "Thought Cindy took care of those when she made me up this morning."

"No," Viggo grins. "They're there." He leans a little closer and nudges Sean. "You're a bad dog, you know." He leaves it at that, watching Sean speculatively.

Bloody hell, Sean thinks, staring at Viggo in shock. Was that a lucky guess or is he that good?

"Woof woof," he says a little sarcastically.

Viggo gives another one of his slow, crooked grins. "Meow," he replies in his own voice, with his own inflection, eyes bland. He thinks he might see something there, but he's willing to let this ride a little longer till he figures it all out.

"Do you ever make sense?" Sean asks, glad they've gotten away from the subject of the marks on his neck.

"No," Viggo replies placidly, "not if I can help it. 'No cat out of its first fur ever gave a straight answer.'" He's still watching Sean with the same even, catlike expression.

"You're fuckin' weird, you know that," Sean says without any real animosity as he stubs out his cigarette on the sole of his boot.

"Yeah." Viggo shrugs and sighs. "If you want to come over for a beer later, that's okay." He knows Sean will, somehow. Call it intuition.

"I might," Sean says, knowing there's no might about it. "If there isn't a match on."

* * * *

There is a match on, but it doesn't matter. Sean shows up at Viggo's door, trying to look a great deal less nervous than he feels. I'm an actor damnit, he thinks. Even if he can't be cool and collected, he should at least be able pretend to be.

Viggo's grinning even as he lets Sean in. "Glad you're here," he says. "Beer, right? Or harder?" Sean looks good; Viggo's always liked the way his shirts stretch over his chest and shoulders, and he's having trouble not staring at those marks -- he wants to trace them with his tongue. He doesn't bother turning his thoughts away from that as he closes the door behind Sean.

"Yeah beer's good," Sean says as he follows Viggo inside. Viggo's place is untidy in that artist way that Sean associates with Viggo and he can't help feeling at home here.

Viggo pads through to the kitchen and leans over to open the refrigerator. "Foster's alright?"

"Why do you Americans think that's real beer?" Sean says with a grin. "But yeah that's fine."

Pulling out two, Viggo pops them open with the bottle opener hanging from a magnet with a piece of blue and purple yarn tied to one end. He hands a beer off and shrugs. "What's real beer? You drink it; you get drunk. This is real enough." So saying, he makes a little cheers gesture with his and downs about a third of it.

"Cheers," Sean says before taking a large drink. "This isn't as bad as American beer mind you but a bloke wants beer with some real substance. A nice brown ale or sommat. I'll bring some over sometime."

Shite. Just implied that I want there to be a next time, Sean thinks, although he keeps his facial expression neutral.

Viggo grins broadly. "I like the sound of that," he nods. He moves out of the little kitchen, slipping by Sean on his way. He's barefoot, wearing floppy pajama pants that are strangely colorless, some faded brown-gray flannel, and a gray t-shirt that has something on it in Spanish. He leans down one-handed to shuffle some things off the sofa; there's a narrow spot to sit but certainly not enough for two, and he bets Sean likes to sprawl out a little.

"You've made yourself at home," Sean says, feeling a little stupid. He's not sure what to say now that he's here, not even sure if he should be here.

"Yeah." Viggo pats the couch beside him; there's barely enough for two now, if Sean wants to stretch out at all. "So," he grins, tilting his head and looking at Sean pointedly, at the marks he's been trying not to look at and mostly failing, "those're what I think they are, aren't they?"

"What do you think they are?" Sean asks, knowing he's dodging the question.

"You really want to know?" Viggo's leaning closer now, lowering his voice. "You want to know what I think?" He's watching Sean intently, taking in every nuance he can.

"Wouldn't have asked if I didn't," Sean drawls with just a touch of arrogance in his voice.

"I think," Viggo murmurs, dropping his voice even further, "that they're incredibly kinky. I think they're badges. I think they're very, very telling. I think I'd also like to put more of them on you." He sits back and raises his beer to his lips again. "That's what I think." He drinks.

"You think a hell of a lot," Sean says, his pulse increasing. "You must be pretty ... ordinary if you think a few bite marks are kinky," he adds, avoiding the rest of Viggo's statement for now.

Viggo grins again. "Really? What's kinky for you, then?"

"That," Sean says falling into a familiar pattern, "is such a big question."

"Mmm." Viggo nods. "It is. It really is. See because bite marks in and of themselves are kinky, but leaving them out for everyone to see -- that's really a lot more so." He studies his beer bottle, which he's holding in both hands, fingers laced together around the back side of it. "I'm just glad for my own sake there wasn't any football on tonight." His eyes flick up to Sean's knowingly.

"Well you have me there," Sean says. "You're just lucky the Blades weren't playing." He drinks more beer. "Why's it so kinky to let marks show?" His voice has dropped down a bit; he knows he sounds as provocative as the bite marks themselves and he wonders if Viggo's going to make a move or make Sean go for it. Hopefully the former.

"It's an announcement," Viggo says, setting his beer aside. "It's a proclamation: 'I play this way.'" He reaches up and runs the pad of his thumb over a mark and then scratches lightly with his thumbnail. "So is this a proclamation, or false advertising?"
Stifling a gasp when Viggo touches him, Sean smiles lazily. "I don't believe in false advertising."

"Oh. Good." Viggo gets up, bracing his hand on the back of the sofa, and then kneels over Sean, straddling his lap. He puts his hands on Sean's shoulders, hardly enough to pin Sean down -- hardly enough to pin Elijah down, really -- but symbolic. A test. He watches Sean almost lazily with that same catlike expression, as though it really doesn't matter which way Sean goes.

Giving a light shrug -- enough to toss Viggo's hands off him -- Sean shakes his head. "And you? How do you feel about false advertisement? Because if that's how you pin a person, I should just go watch the match."

Viggo sinks a hand into Sean's hair, right at the crown of his head, and makes a tight fist, yanking back viciously. "If you want to go watch the match," he says calmly, "you go right ahead."

A sharp breath hisses through Sean's clenched teeth and he arches his neck even further. "I think I might just stay here," he says, his voice already hoarse with arousal. Better ... a whole lot better. God I hope he's just getting started.

Viggo watches for a moment, then bends his head and addresses one of the marks already there. He licks at it lightly at first, wondering casually who put it there. Wondering if that person could be convinced to do a little more of that.

Sean hisses a little at the touch of Viggo's tongue on his sensitive skin. It doesn't hurt but it reminds him of how much it did hurt when Karl bit him. He wonders if Viggo will be better than Karl and can't help the slight shiver of anticipation.

Viggo licks one more time before pulling back to assess the bite, to study it for a moment. He wants perfect symmetry here, perfect coverage, and when he sinks his teeth into the skin, he nearly gets it. He clamps down hard, feeling the skin dent under his teeth, and then when he lets up he can see he was only a little off. Crooked. It's okay; there are other bites to work on.

"Christ," Sean gasps out. The mark on top of the other mark like that hurts more than the original did and the pain goes straight to his cock. Without thinking, he shoves his hips up, desperate to get into some kind of contact with Viggo.

Letting out a low, easy laugh, Viggo levers himself up on his knees, gripping Sean's shoulders and holding him down. "No restraint at all," he teases, and then leans down to cover another mark with his own teeth, taking great care to line everything up before biting down.

Viggo's words sound like a challenge and Sean struggles against his hands, groaning at the pain of the bite. It's strange because he finds himself wanting to be good for Viggo and there are very few partners Sean's wanted to behave for this quickly.

"So what kind of story's in these marks, Sean?" Viggo murmurs against Sean's throat. "Just rough sex? Were they punishment? Reward? Did a collar rest over them afterward?" Viggo doesn't really expect Sean to answer any of the questions, but they're sure giving him something interesting to think about. He pulls back and looks at Sean again, then leans in to kiss him, all teeth and tongue.

Just rough sex, Sean thinks as Viggo's mouth closes on his. It's not that Sean doesn't like Karl, it's just that Karl has made it perfectly clear that all he wants from Sean is someone willing to be hurt. A nice easy arrangement; I like being hurt and he likes hurting. Never mind the fact that I might want more.

But Sean really doesn't want more from Karl so it's not like the thought is all that bitter. It's more wistful really, tinged with a certain degree of anticipation. Wonder what I'll want from Viggo, Sean thinks, returning the kiss with the same intensity that Viggo is showing in giving it.

Viggo pulls back from the kiss, tugging at Sean's bottom lip sharply as he goes. He runs his fingertip over one of the newly bitten marks and smiles. Abruptly he's getting off of Sean's lap and sitting next to him. He reaches over and wraps a hand firmly in Sean's shirt collar and tugs downward. "On the floor. On your knees."

"You make a lot of assumptions," Sean says, even as he slides off the couch. He's on his knees, but his posture isn't at all good and the look he's giving Viggo is challenging.

Like a shot, Viggo's down there with him; that hand in Sean's hair is now shoving him face-first into the carpet. "So do you," Viggo breathes.

"Fuck," Sean mutters, his voice muffled in the thick pile of Viggo's carpet. Without really thinking about it, he settles into the present down posture, his back arching and his knees sliding apart.

"Wow," Viggo murmurs, pleased. "Good boy." He eases his grip on Sean's hair and then runs his fingers through it, petting. "Very good boy. I bet you'd make someone a very nice pet." He ruffles Sean's hair; it'll either irritate the piss out of him or be flattering. Viggo can do either, and he watches Sean carefully.

"Fuck you," Sean says, trying to hold on to some sense of pride. It's scary, not only has Viggo gotten Sean down so fast, but he keeps coming back to the one thing that Sean doesn't let most of his lovers get anywhere near. "That's something that has to be earned," he growls, a little surprised that he said anything.

Slowly, Viggo nods. "Yeah, I suppose it is," he concedes, voice soft. He yanks Sean upright again. "So's being on my floor. I thought you were ready for it. Maybe not." He gets up and turns away, taking a pull at his beer and starting to undress as though Sean isn't even there.

"Bastard," Sean mutters. Not to be outdone, he strips off his shirt and then starts unbuttoning his jeans. "What d'you want from me then?" he asks, not looking at Viggo.

"To see about those marks," Viggo shrugs. He folds his shirt over the back of a chair and his pajamas into the seat. He turns and gives Sean a smile that's not meant to be anything but chilly. "We can work with the rest."

"You found out about the bites," Sean says, hoping he doesn't sound too desperate. "What's the 'rest?""

Viggo knows he's taking a leap, here; bites and general kink do not necessarily lend themselves to the whole shebang the way he's thinking. He can laugh it off if the ploy fails, though. He hopes.

"You really are a bad dog, aren't you, Sean?" Viggo shakes his head. "I think you've been spoiled."

"How the fuck did you...?" Sean's voice trails off as he looks at Viggo with chagrin. Well you big fucking idiot, if he didn't know before, he does now.

Pleased and startled, Viggo thinks, Bullseye. He tilts his head to look at Sean and smiles slowly. "I think the pet needs a swat or two to remind him who walks on two legs around here." He looks at the floor in front of him pointedly, then back up again.

"Viggo," Sean says, almost pleading. "I ... fuck this isn't something I do on the first ... date .. scene ... whatever the hell this is." Push me enough and I might make an exception here, but I need some help.

"Okay," Viggo says, eyes and tone calm. He steps close to Sean, right into his space, and cups a hand firmly around Sean's nape. They were fine when he was biting, so Viggo doesn't mind returning to that. He decides to mark a new spot and then sucks it up purple for good measure, holding Sean to him tightly.

"Yeah," Sean murmurs softly, sinking back into the pain. Pain is easy, submission can even be easy. Pet space -- as he thinks of it -- isn't easy but if Viggo intends to reward him with bites like this, Sean is willing to try.

Viggo pulls back and then crouches down to look at Sean. "I'd like to cover you in marks like those. I've been thinking about how that would look. How it would feel to you. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," Sean says. And then, knowing he needs to give a little here, he adds, "please?" and leans in to rub his head against one of Viggo's hands.

Catching his breath a little, Viggo nods. Sean doesn't do that on the first whatever but maybe later... maybe. Viggo's thrilled. "C'mon," he murmurs, standing up. "Come to bed." He resists the urge to add boy to the end of that and just straightens and walks into the bedroom of the suite.

Crawl or walk? Crawling, Sean decides would be giving up too much at this point and so he stands up, discarding his jeans and kicking his trainers off before following Viggo to the bedroom. As a compromise, he kneels next to the bed, waiting to see what Viggo wants from him.

"Up here." Viggo lies down on the bed, stretching out on his side, and pats the spot next to him. He's content to keep on simple and easy, now. He likes the idea they might go places Sean doesn't usually go, but he's not going to risk blowing it, either.
Sean moves up onto the bend and looks at Viggo. "On my back or my stomach," he asks. He's trying not to be as challenging now, trying to give Viggo the chance to control this encounter.

"Stomach," Viggo says quietly. He doesn't want Sean with too much ability to move, to second-guess, or to try to take over. Viggo doesn't know Sean well enough to see him as anything but unpredictable yet.

As soon as Sean gets there, Viggo is draping himself along Sean's body, hands planted to either side of his chest. "I'm going to start with those bites, now," he whispers, then immediately sinks his teeth into the flesh at the juncture of neck and shoulder, humming happily.

"Oh fuck," Sean moans, tilting his head to give Viggo better access to his neck. "'S good ... really fucking good."

Viggo gives another hum in the same flat tone he spoke in earlier. This time when he bites -- further out on the shoulder -- he bites far harder, holds it longer, and doesn't play his tongue over the skin. He's going to let Sean decide whether he thinks it's reward or punishment.

This time Sean's groan is wordless but heartfelt and he grinds his cock into the bed, wishing the damn bed were a lot firmer. He wants more and wants it now but he has a feeling that Viggo isn't going to let him run this scene.

Letting up, Viggo nuzzles Sean's ear. "Stop that," he whispers lightly, sounding like it's a sweet lover's request and really meaning it to be a threat. He doesn't waste any time but goes back to the biting, this time latching on hard to the curve of muscle just inside a shoulder blade. This one he does suck on, hard enough to bruise, and he holds it for a good deal longer.

Not that easy, Sean thinks grinding into the bed again. You don't get me that easily.

Viggo goes still, then gets off the bed. He says nothing. He tips his head back and waits. He wants this -- wants it bad -- but Sean has to want it, too. And Sean has to be willing to give. Not the other -- not yet -- but he has to yield.

Fuck, you just had to push him, Sean thinks. It's no real surprise to him; he pushes everyone. But it looks like Viggo doesn't like pushy.

"I'm sorry," Sean says, his voice low. "I shouldn't have pushed."

"When we're fucking around," Viggo murmurs, "you can play like that. Right now, you want something I can give you. Earn it."

"Please," Sean says. "Please ... what can I do?" He arches his back and spreads his legs, which serves the dual purpose of lifting his cock off the bed and showing off his arse.

"Bring yourself off." Viggo firms up his voice, knowing this is the only safe way to punish Sean and prove something to him at once. "Turn over and jerk off, Sean."

Knowing that Viggo means it as punishment, Sean rolls over and doesn't dare ask for lube. Instead he quickly spits in his palm and reaches down to stroke his cock, glancing at Viggo. "Do you want me to show off or just get it over with?"

"Just get it over with," Viggo says. "Now."

Nodding, Sean strokes himself briskly, a little on the rough side, while he reaches up with his other hand to press hard on one of the bruises Viggo left on him. He knows that he's giving a lot away -- what it takes to get him off quickly -- but that's more than made up for by the fact that Viggo told him to do this.

Watching, calmed by the idea that Sean likes Viggo's marks -- Viggo's marks, now, regardless of who made them before -- Viggo allows himself a low moan as he sits on the edge of the bed to watch.

"Yeah," he breathes. "I did that to you, Sean. I can do more if you let me."

"Want you to," Sean gasps, his hand moving faster. "Please." Just the idea of asking for it has him close to orgasm and he looks at Viggo a little desperately. "Close...."

"Stop."

Gasping, Sean does as he's told, still looking at Viggo hungrily.

"Should I just fuck you now, or bring myself off?" Viggo's question is entirely rhetorical but he has to wonder if Sean thinks he's earned his own part in this.

Sean's learned his lesson -- for now -- and he lowers his eyes. "I'd say it's up to you." For all that his words aren't particularly submissive, his tone of voice is almost respectful.

"Hm." Viggo reaches down and strokes himself idly. "It is up to me, isn't it?" He starts to pump his cock steadily, watching Sean.

"Please," Sean says very quietly. "Please...." There's more but he's not sure if Viggo wants to hear it or not.

Viggo stops his hand. "Yeah?"

"If ... if you don't fuck me," Sean says, hoping it's obvious that he'd rather Viggo fucked him, "could you at least let me lick your fingers? Please? Sir?"

Giving himself a few more strokes, Viggo smiles wickedly. "Are you that far down, boy?" he asks softly.

The look Sean gives him is one of mixed fear and hunger. 'Yeah and it usually doesn't happen this fast. Sir."

"How far down," Viggo asks, "are you, Sean?"

The question floors Sean, he's never really tried to describe where he is at any given point in a scene. "I ... well I'm...." He frowns at his stammering. "Eager to please you," he finally says. "I dunno ... still thinking about myself some so maybe halfway down?" He's afraid it sounds flip, but really, this is just like Viggo, asking a question like that in a scene.

Calm and unbothered, Viggo nods. "Okay," he murmurs. It's a far more honest answer than he's gotten in a good while, and that pleases him far more than he's willing to show right now.

He crawls over Sean on the bed and kisses him, hard, biting kisses, hungry but shallow -- yet. Viggo pulls back and smiles, making a hoarse, hungry noise in his throat.

Somehow knowing that Viggo is as hungry for it as Sean is helps Sean and he rolls over and lowers he forehead to the bed, waiting silently. Wonder if he has any idea how unusual it is for me to go this far this fast.

Sean's silence is good. Even so, Viggo decides to break it. "How long since you got fucked last?" he asks softly, nudging Sean onto his stomach again and draping himself along Sean's back, just lying there on top of him, cock nestled in the cleft of Sean's ass. He knows the answer; whoever bit him probably fucked him, too, and those bite marks are -- were -- pretty fresh. He just wants to hear Sean talk like this, quietly, face down in the bed.

"Yesterday," Sean admits. He can feel his cheeks grow hot and he wonders if Viggo will ask who it was. "Do ... do you want me to call you something?"

"No." And it's none of Viggo's business, and he knows it, and he doesn't care, so he does ask: "Who was it?"

"Would you want me to tell him about you if he asked?" Sean says, his voice still quiet.

Viggo considers briefly, then discards pursuing that line. He himself wouldn't care, but he's not whoever Sean got marked by. "Was it good?"

"Not bad," Sean says. "I got off." Which was about the best you could say for it. Karl was rough enough to get Sean off but already Sean's more impressed with Viggo.

"Mm." Viggo grinds down, making it seem like an incidental movement, a just-getting-comfy kind of shifting. "Was he -- she -- trying to mark you, or was that just for fun?" He brings his hand up and curls it around the front of Sean's throat, pressing on the bruises.

Trying desperately not to shove back against Viggo's cock, Sean moans softly. "Just trying to hurt me," he says after a second. "Just for fun."

"Mm," Viggo remarks again, noncommittally. He bends his head and bites the back of Sean's shoulder sharply, holding... holding... and then finally letting go with a little lick. "It is fun."

"Yeah," Sean says, tilting his head into the bite. He can't help the small whimper that escapes.

Viggo doesn't say anything more. He starts biting instead. He makes a long, deep row of them starting at the back of Sean's neck, holding, moving to his shoulder, holding, moving to the top of his arm, holding... there's a slow, almost lax rhythm to the bites, and he checks the location and the depth of them, making them all even, wanting to make sure they'll look right.

By the time Viggo reaches his shoulder, Sean is groaning, and when Viggo keeps on going, Sean can't help squirming, although he's careful not to let his cock come into contact with the bed. "Please," he whispers. "Oh God please...."

"Please what?" Viggo whispers back, smiling.

"Fuck me, Viggo," Sean begs shamelessly. "Fuck me please?"

"In a little while." Viggo's thoroughly pleased with Sean right now, but there's a bit more he wants to do. "The bites aren't even yet." He starts on the other side of Sean's neck and starts working his way down the arm he hasn't bitten on.

"If I die of frustration." Sean jokes in between gasps. "you ... oh fuck that's good ... have to explain ... God ... to Pete."

"Shh." Viggo gets up and kneels beside Sean, crouching over him. He presses his ear to Sean's shoulder, looking down his back, sighting down it, almost. Following the curves. Then he raises his head and starts making another line of bites along the swell of muscle at the left side of Sean's spine, from his nape almost to his ass, very slowly.

Guessing that he's not to speak, but hoping that Viggo doesn't want silence, Sean makes soft little pleading noises as Viggo keeps marking him. There's something intimate here, something that's far beyond Karl biting him while giving him a rough fucking.
Sean wants to beg but he's afraid that if he speaks, Viggo will stop and even worse, tell him to leave. God ... fuck ... please, he thinks, begging silently. He knows his desperation is coming through in the noises he makes and he feels that curious mixture of arousal and humiliation that drives him crazy.

Viggo can tell a lot by Sean's noises, and that's very gratifying. Still, now he's created more asymmetry, and that bothers him. He starts biting down the right side, parallel to the other row of bites, this time going a bit faster. His cock's aching, too, no question; he's ready to be inside Sean.

By the time Viggo's done, Sean is whimpering steadily, all thoughts of dignity gone in a red haze of need. He slides his knees a little further apart and arches his back some so that his arse is presented in as blatant a plea for fucking as he can make without words. If anyone other than Viggo had told him to be quiet, he realizes as he waits, he'd have spoken long ago. The thought should disturb him and later it might. Now, however, all he knows is that he needs to be fucked.

Enough's enough. Viggo leans over to get lube and a condom and then moves behind Sean, positioning himself between Sean's legs before tugging at his hips, getting Sean up onto his knees and shoulders again. He has to pause a moment and run his fingers down the marks along Sean's spine, though. "That's nice," he says softly as he unrolls the condom onto himself and spreads lube on it liberally. "I'm not going to prep you," he adds as an afterthought. He doesn't know if he means it as a warning or some kind of reward; Sean'll figure it out.

"Don't care," Sean gasps out. "Just .... oh God please Viggo."

Viggo grips himself around the base and pushes in, one hand splayed at the small of Sean's back to hold him steady, pressed into the bed. It's snug and hot and he groans openly, tipping his head back before gripping Sean's hips and finishing the last inch with a hard little thrust. "There. Fuck, Sean." Suddenly he feels an inexplicable tenderness for Sean and he wants to bend down and kiss all of those bites. That'll come later.

"Oh Christ," Sean grunts. "Fucking hurts." His action as he shoves back against Viggo make it clear that he's not complaining at all. "Fuck Viggo ... fucking good..."

When Viggo starts to move it's with short, sharp bucks forward, not thrusting so much as grinding his cock inside Sean over and over. He finds himself a happy medium with the bites; he drags his nails over them lightly, mostly to remind Sean they're there.

It's good, really fucking good, and Sean feels like a greedy whore for wanting more. For all he knows, Viggo wants him to feel that way, a thought that makes him groan. "More," he finally asks, his voice almost small. "Please?"

In response, Viggo grips Sean's shoulders hard, yanks him back onto Viggo sharply and then bends to bite his shoulder again, deepening a mark that was already there. Sean feels fucking great, freshly-fucked enough to be relaxed around Viggo's cock but still so fucking tight and so starved for it. Viggo can't resist; he uses Sean's shoulders as handles and starts fucking Sean roughly, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in again with steady, hard regularity.

This time it's a full blown yell that Sean gives up as Viggo starts really fucking him. Given the position they're both in, Sean has no real way to move and so he's trapped, at the mercy of Viggo's hands and cock and that mouth on his skin. "Yeah," he growls in time with Viggo's thrusts. "Yeah ... yeah ... yeah..."

Viggo lets go with one hand and brings it down to Sean's hip, gripping and pushing down. He can't hold that position though so he brings the other hand down, too, just shoving Sean's hips down into the bed. "Come," he gasps, not so much permission as a demand.

With an odd sound that's half yell and half grateful grunt, Sean comes as hard as he can, shoving his cock against the mattress.

"Ahfuck," Viggo gets out just before he comes, noise almost matching Sean's, jerking and driving in once, then once more, then finally just resting heavily on Sean's back, still buried in him. He rests his cheek on a bite mark between Sean's shoulders and curls his hands around Sean's upper arms in an odd display of affection.

"God," Sean groans into the bed. "That were ... bloody fucking ... fantastic." Viggo's weight feels good -- luxurious even in an odd way -- on his back and Sean all but purrs.

Viggo takes a minute to catch his breath, then wriggles from side to side, doglike, on Sean's back. "Bites hurt still?" he asks, knowing they must. Or at least hoping they do. He wants them to hurt tomorrow.

"You could say that," Sean says. "And you'd be right. Hurts like the blazes. Gonna be feeling them for days."

Gonna be pressing down on them any time I can, he adds silently, not sure if he wants to let Viggo know how much he's going to replay this encounter in his mind for the next several days. Weeks? Months?

Smiling slowly, Viggo does what he's been wanting to do for a while and presses a tender kiss to Sean's shoulder. "Good." He plants his hands flat on the bed and levers himself up, holding the condom snug and pulling out carefully. "Let me know when they start fading, I'll re-do them," he adds, grunting lightly as he peels off the condom and tosses it. .

"Do I have to wait that long?" Sean asks before he can stop the words from coming out.

Startled, Viggo goes still and turns to look at Sean. "No," he says seriously. "You can come back whenever you want."

"Good to know," Sean says, not moving. He's still feeling that weird feeling, the one his mind keeps wanting to call luxurious for some reason. It is a luxury, he realizes. He's not used to feeling this comfortable after an encounter like this.

"Thanks," he says very softly.

Sensing something... not off, maybe, but different, Viggo cocks his head and lies down again, stretching out beside Sean. He curls one arm under his head and grins. "Or you can just stay here. I was going to make pancakes for dinner."

Sean can't help the laugh that makes its way out of his throat. "Pancakes? Me mum used to do that," he says, deliberately laying on the Yorkshire accent. "It were sort of special like."

"I think this is sort of special like," Viggo says quietly, still smiling.

"Aye," Sean says. "Me too."

tbc