Title: Hands
Pairing: Viggo/Sean/Merrick
Rating: R
Archiving: Rugbytackling/Green Opals
Author:
govi20
Summary: is Sean acting, or is there really something wrong?
This is the sequel to: Gloves you'll find here:http://govi20.livejournal.com/13581.html#cutid1
and Cruiseship you'll find here:http://govi20.livejournal.com/14412.html#cutid1
You should really read those first, to let it make sense!
DISCLAIMER: I don’t know these men, it never happened, it’s all just in my head!
“You lie perfectly still, or I’ll restrain you. You won’t talk or make a sound, or I’ll gag you.”
The gloved hands are touching his body, exploring, never really giving any real pressure. Viggo closes his eyes and tries to relax, the sound of the latex skin brushing the only sound in the very silent room.
“Open your eyes and keep them open” The voice is soft, but with underlying steel and Viggo never doubts the need for obedience. He’s still trying to figure out what’s exactly happening here. Being forced to keep his eyes open doesn’t make thinking easier.
Sean, no Merrick he decides, is intensifying the stroking, thumbs and index fingers pressing into his flesh here and there. It looks familiar and he certainly realizes it’s an examination.
But for what? His eyes try to connect with the eyes behind those glasses without success.
Viggo is not easily scared, but feels fear taking possession of him and he hates it. Because
despite of all he’s real hard, his erection throbbing. It feels humiliating, just lying there, being totally out of control. Being touched by a stranger, at least that’s how it feels.
And the arousal even makes it worse.
He could use his safe word, but it seems ridiculous to do that just because of his uncertainty.
There had been a lot of exploring limits between them and he never felt the need to use his safe word. Sean must be acting, he must be, but still it’s unnerving.
“Turn over”
He obeys, almost grateful to be able to close his eyes, burying his face in the pillow. The hands are on his backside now and if he could only shake off his fears, it would feel good.
It’s easier to relax, not able to see the other man.
But then the hands reach his thighs, pulling them from each other. The stroking stops, the room is utterly silent, the silence only broken by his heavy breathing. He knows he’s exposed and can’t help letting out a shuddering breath when he feels two gloved fingers entering him.

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