rugbytackle | Cake, a Christmas fic

Title : Cake, # 7 on this Christmas table
Pairing : Viggo/Sean
Warning : RPS, AU
Archiving : Rugbytackling, switch_bottoms, viggo_cursive
Summary : This is a part of the Pyjama's AU, in which Sean is a teacher and Viggo is an art lecturer.
Authors : mooms (Viggo) and govi20 ( Sean)
A.N. We have opened a new LJ for our joint roleplay VigBean fics. So if you want to read our fics friend us !
Disclaimer : written for fun, not for profit. We don't know these men, all lies !

~Viggo~

Well it’s a couple of months since our pyjamas brought Sean & me together and things are going real well. We still have our separate apartments, but have exchanged keys to both and our arrangement suits us just fine.

Now Christmas is approaching in a few days and we are both looking so much forward to spending it together. I am so proud of Sean, ‘cause he stood up to his dragon of a mother and told her firmly that he wouldn’t be going home for Christmas this year.

She certainly blew off a lot of flames and smoke, ‘cuz his ears were positively singed, when he got off the ‘phone and I had to apply a lot of soothing balm, with my tongue. When I was through with the ears, I moved onto other parts and that was the start of a most pleasant evening.

Mom doesn’t know about me yet, of course. Sean hasn’t been brave enough to deal with that bombshell yet.

My college has finished earlier than his school. He broke up this afternoon and has gone out with his fellow teachers to celebrate their release. The sweet sherry will surely be flowing tonight ! They are a pretty conservative bunch and will be hurrying home to their own homes by around eight pm.

I decided that he deserved a little treat, so I have baked him a Christmas cake…… a very special Christmas cake.

As part of my mission to unleash the real Sean and free him from his inhibitions, I introduced him to whiskey and smoking a little weed from time to time. The cake I made is very traditional, down to the white frosting and the snowman on the top, but I have added a little extra ingredient, as a surprise.

I let myself into his apartment just now and put the cake in his kitchen for him to find, when he comes home. I am due round there later and I have showered and changed into my football pj’s in readiness. We have a real sentimental attachment to our jamas, although they never seem to stay on long, once we get together.

He should be home soon and I can’t wait for him to try my cake.

~Sean~

It’s hot and crowded in the pub. I am glad school’s out for two weeks and I am very much looking forward to spending more time with Viggo. I stood up for once to me Mum and told her I was not coming up for Christmas. She didn’t take that very well, but I am entitled to my own life.

I used to enjoy these occasional evenings with my fellow teachers, but since I met Vig my view on a nice evening has changed a lot, and this whole thing seems predictable and boring. Most of them drink beer or red wine and look quite stunned when I order whiskey.

The night air is a bit chilly when I finally go home, but the effect the whiskey has on me is not gone that easily. A long hot shower and a few glasses of cold water should do the trick. Or perhaps I will just slump down on the couch and let Vig do the work.

I revel in the thought of having two weeks together. We might not have a White Christmas, but it will certainly be a hot one. No boring Christmas meal with my parents this year for me. I feel a bit guilty thinking about them though. I will have to go up there soon after the holidays to visit. Of course I will have to tell them about Viggo sometime. I shudder when I think of me Mum’s face.

I turn around the corner to see just that : me Mum’s face. I just stare at her, trying to shake the hazy fog of too much whiskey out of my head. I am just not able to find words, but she sure does.

“Good evening Sean, where have you been ? I’ve been walking around here for about an hour waiting for you. Aren’t you inviting me in ?”

I don’t feel like it at all, but I have no other choice : I can only hope Viggo is not waiting for me, lying naked on the couch like he did once before. I carefully open the door, Mum chatting behind my back. I can’t get a word in, as usual. No Vig, thank god for that.

I offer her tea and she goes with me to the kitchen. On the small table sits a nice Christmas cake, homemade and lovely. I know Viggo must have baked it, it’s so sweet and very convenient, because now I can offer Mum something with her tea and convince her of being capable to take care of myself.

We sit down and I cut her a very large piece of the cake, hoping that it will sweeten her mood. I decide to wait for Vig to taste it, so I just drink tea and listen to her while she questions me about my reasons for not coming home for Christmas. All I can think of is how to get rid of her before Viggo walks in.

I must be more drunk than I thought, because after some time her voice seems to get lighter, and it’s almost like she’s giggling. My Mum has never giggled in her whole life, so it must be me. She really loves the cake though, because she cuts herself another large piece. Well, as long as it keeps her from ranting.

I freeze when I hear the front door open. There he is standing in the kitchen door, wearing his footie pyjamas.

~Viggo~

I am tired of waiting for Sean and wanting Sean. I figured he would be home by now and would’ve called me to let me know and thank me for the cake !

Creeping out of my front door, I see that the lights are on in his hallway, so I decide to surprise him and let myself in with my key. I freeze as I enter the apartment and hear a distinctly female giggle from the kitchen.

Sean is sitting at the table, with a cup of tea and very sheepish expression and opposite him is a lady with a blue-rinse and crisp perm, who just has to be his mother. The reason for her giggling is clear, when I see the large chunk missing from my space-Christmas cake. Sean doesn’t have a cake plate in front of him, so she must have consumed the lot ! Shit !

When I appear in the kitchen doorway, Sean’s expression changes from puzzled to panic-stricken and he goes quite pale, as his mother follows his gaze, swivels in her chair and sees me. She literally does a double take, then she starts to giggle even more, pointing her finger at my football pyjamas.

If I didn’t know she was under the influence of my cake, I could be quite offended at her reaction, but we are fixed in this weird tableau, with Sean horrified, me undecided as to what to do and his mother in danger of pissing on the kitchen floor.

She seems to become aware of the danger, pushes herself to her feet and asks Sean to direct her to the bathroom, which makes him jerk into action and usher her past me.

When she is safely behind the door and we hear her using the facilities, Sean turns to me and I see a look of realisation dawn on his face.

He grabs a handful of my jacket and shoves me into the kitchen, slamming me up against the counter, in one of his rare, but frightening and rather stimulating bursts of anger.

“You fuckin’ bastard !” he hisses, his face inches from mine. “You put somethin’ in the bloody cake, didn’t you ? “

“Sean, I wanted to surprise you !”

“ Surprise me ? Look at the state of me mother !

“But she seems happy, Sean !”

“Not happy, Viggo, stoned !”

We spring apart as the toilet flushes and Sean’s mother weaves her way back into the kitchen, her skirt tucked into the back of her knickers. She smiles fondly at Sean, then indicates me and says in a stage whisper,

“ Who is this person, Sean and where did he come from ? I don’t know what the nurses can be thinking of, letting him wander about like that that. This ‘Care in the Community’ just doesn’t work, does it ?”

~Sean~

I know Viggo looks rather silly in those pyjamas, and me mum can be rather rude sometimes, but it still surprises me as she points at him and laughs in his face. I don’t know what’s wrong here. For a moment I think she must be drunk, but that’s impossible ; mum doesn’t drink.

Still giggling she asks me where the bathroom is and I stand up to get her there safely. Back in the kitchen, I look at Viggo and something in his face tells me he’s got something to do with this. Fuck, he must have put something in that cake.

The thought of my mother eating something that is drugged fills me with rage and I grab him and push him up to the counter. He admits that he has put something in that cake and for a moment I feel like hitting him. Then he says he wanted to surprise me, and that me mum seems quite happy.

We hear her come back and we step away from each other quickly. Then mum comes in again, a bright red color on her face trying to whisper, but seriously failing :

“Who is this person, Sean and where did he come from ? I don’t know what the nurses can be thinking of, letting him wander about like that. This ‘Care in the Community’ just doesn’t work, does it ?”

For a moment I think it serves him right, but then it strikes me as rather funny. Every other person would be offended, but of course Viggo laughs about it. He walks over to her and introduces himself. He tells her he’s the next door neighbour and came in to borrow something and that he found the door open. I admire the way he’s telling her the truth, but not giving me away the same time.

But mum is not so easily satisfied. Normally she would still try for a bit of politeness, but the - whatever it was in that cake - seems to have brought out the real person. She looks at him from head to toe, while absently popping some of the leftover cake crumbs in her mouth.

“Why are you walking around in your pyjamas this time of day ? And what were you thinking buying pyjama’s like that ?“

She starts giggling again, and I am getting really worried. Viggo looks at me and shrugs, he takes out a chair and sit next to her, trying for a conversation, while I take the cake away and hide it in one of the cupboards.

After a while she seems a bit more composed and I am starting to believe she will perhaps get over it and leave. Viggo talks as only he can, and she’s actually listening, while studying his face. When Viggo finally falls quiet, she drops her bomb.

“So tell me, you coming here in your pyjamas, and being such a smooth talker, are you trying to seduce my boy ?”

Fuck... even drugged she’s still frightening !

~Viggo~

I am surprised for a minute, when Sean’ s mother mistakes me for a mental patient, but then I just double up with laughter. I suppose it would be a fair assumption to make, given the pj’s !

Anyway, I recover and solemnly explain to her that I am Sean’s neighbour and popped in to borrow a box of matches and she seems to get real interested in me, scrutinizing me from bare feet to head. Then she asks me why I have my pj’s on at this time of day and why I am wearing these particular ones, which she clearly thinks suitable for an eight year old.

Well I have considerable charm with old ladies, when I wish to exercise it, so I settle down to a cosy chat with her, apparently much to Sean’s apprehension.

I tell her that the pyjamas were a gift, but that I find them warm and sensible for the time of year and that I was planning an early night, and was going to make some cocoa, when I found I couldn’t light the gas, so came in to my friendly neighbour.

She nods in agreement. I knew she would go for the “sensible, flannel next the skin” line, as she was probably responsible for buying Sean the abominable pyjamas I find so endearing.

We continue chatting and Sean begins to relax, than suddenly she comes out with the most unexpected question ! The cake has certainly lowered her inhibitions.

I look up at Sean and he is standing, transfixed with horror, a rabbit in the headlights.

Winking at him, I nudge her in the ribs and lower my voice to a purr,

“Why, ma’am, would I want to seduce Sean, when I have you here ?”

I pick up her hand, brushing off a few cake-crumbs and kiss it, moving up to her wrist and continuing up her arm, as she bats her eye-lashes at me and dissolves into another bout of giggles.

Her hand is snatched away by an affronted and indignant Sean.

“That’s quite enough of that, now. Mother, have you booked yourself into a hotel tonight ?”

She looks as if she is about to glare at him, then sighs and shrugs, confirming that she has. Sean takes charge, calling a cab, ushering her out to it and slamming the door firmly, before returning to the apartment and confronting me.

“Right, Viggo, now perhaps you’d like to explain, why you drugged the Christmas cake you made me and nearly poisoned me mother !”

“Oh, Sean, be fair ! She was much nicer stoned ! And I just pepped it up a little as a surprise for you. How was I to know she would turn up. If you ask me, you owe me, ‘cause my cake got you off the hook !”

“And not content with the drugging, you then tried to seduce her !”

“Ah, now we’re getting to it ! She liked me ! You know, I think you’re a little jealous, Sean ! No wonder you have green eyes !”

I yelp, as I find myself flat on my back on the kitchen floor, with the green eyes flashing above me through Sean’s sexy glasses.

~Sean~

I look at Viggo in shock, unable to come up with a reply. But then Viggo bends over to her and starts fucking flirting with her. Even more surprising : she goes for it ! When he starts kissing her hand and works up his way along her arm I decide it’s enough and interrupt.

I think it’s about time she goes to her hotel, which I hope she has booked in. She seems very reluctant and not too happy with me intervening, and it makes me wonder how often Vig uses this ability to charm. And if he’s even used it on me, on younger woman or even worse on other men.

I order a cab and when it finally arrives I almost push her out of the door ; I can’t wait to talk to the bastard. Luckily her attention is not fully on me, and she’s still giggling. I can only hope she’ll leave that cab driver in peace.

I turn around and ask him what’s got into him. How could he drug the cake, almost poisoning me mum ? It’s true we didn’t know she was coming, and I have to admit that she seemed nicer stoned, but the way he flirted with her still doesn’t sit right with me and I tell him that.

When he tells me I am jealous I’ve had enough. I just jump on him and bring him to the floor. I lie on top of him and it feels so much better to have things under control. He squirms beneath me while I try to think of a way to punish him. I grab his hands and pin them down above his head.

Grinding my body on his I lean in so our faces nearly touch. He’s lying still now, the tip of his tongue coming out to moisten his lips.

“You don’t flirt with older women, and certainly not with my mother. I don’t want you flirting with any woman at all come to think of it. In fact, I don’t want you to flirt with anyone but me. Understand ? “

I bend down and kiss him, while he mouths agreement on my lips. I hold his wrists with one hand and let the other one snake between our bodies, cupping his erection. He tries to wriggle himself free, but he can’t.

To make even more clear who’s in charge here I squeeze his balls a little, making him gasp.

“If I’ll let you up, will you behave ? I think we would be more comfortable in the bedroom.“

He nods, and I let him up.

“But let’s try a piece of my Christmas cake first Sean, you know how I love to have sex with you when you’re stoned. You know you giggle just like your mom ?“

~Viggo~

I was really teasing Sean, when I accused him of being jealous, but seems I actually hit a nerve there ! His little show of dominance has me so hard, but he’s not getting things all his own way, so I suggest we sample the cake together, before we adjourn to the bedroom.

He looks at me sternly, still confident that he’s in charge here, but agrees and goes to get it from the cupboard, while I find the corkscrew and open a bottle of red wine.

I suggest we be really festive and mull the wine, so I heat it in a small saucepan, with orange zest, cloves and cinnamon and the scent is divine.

We share some of the cake, which is really good, if I say so myself and by the time we have finished the wine, Sean has really loosened up. He gets up from the table and tells me he’ll be right back and why don’t I make some more mulled wine ?

While the wine is warming, I open the refrigerator and find a tub of brandy butter, which seems to open up all sorts of delicious possibilities, so I take it out and take it with me into the living room, along with the wine.

I put them down and idly stand looking at Sean’s Christmas cards and the small tree he has put in the corner. It feels very cosy in his little apartment, a very different atmosphere from the first time I was here.

Then Sean’s arms go round me from behind and he giggles in my ear. I was right, he does giggle just like his mother !

I turn to kiss him and start to giggle myself, when I see that he has put on his striped flannel pyjamas.

“Good thing your mom didn’t arrive a little later and catch us both in our pyjamas, “ I say.

“Or even later than that and catch us both out of them,” Sean sniggers, as he starts to wrestle me out of mine. “I’d never have heard the last of it. You owe me for causing me mental distress and trauma. How are you going to make it up to me now ? And you’d better make it traditionally festive.”

“Have some more mulled wine and another piece of cake ?”

“Not nearly enough ! Think again !”

“Well, now, what else is traditional ? Is that a chipolata sausage I see peeking out of that gap in your pyjamas ? Shall I have a nibble ?”

”Chipolata ?They are tiny little things ! Cheeky bastard ! It’s not only the turkey that’s going to get trussed and stuffed ! Just get on your knees and jingle my bells !”

~Sean~

Giggle like me mum indeed ! We’ll see about that I think. But I must admit the cake tastes good and so does the mulled wine Vig has made. I can feel my body relax, when I suddenly realize I am a bit overdressed. So I ask Vig to make some more mulled wine while I go to the bedroom to put on my pyjamas.

When I return he’s in the living room, standing right in the middle. I sneak up from behind and close my arms behind him surprising myself by giggling in his ear. Fuck yes : that does sound like me mum. Cheeky bastard he is to notice !

When he turns and sees my pyjamas, he starts laughing too . We talk about how my mum could have found us both in our pyjamas, and how hard it would have been to talk ourselves out of that one. I start undressing him, telling him meanwhile he has to make up to me for those stressful hours.

Cake and wine won’t do, I tell him while I push him down, and teasing me about chipolatas won’t distract me either.

“Just get on your knees and jingle my bells, !” I tell him and that’s exactly what he does.

The effect the space cake is having on me only heightens the pleasure he gives me with that wicked and oh-so-skilled tongue. Pretty soon, my knees begin to weaken and I can hear my voice getting desperate. Then my eye falls on the little tub of brandy butter on the side table.

He must have taken that from the fridge, I think, and planning to use it as a festive sort of lube. Well too bad Vig, I say to myself, stretching just enough to snatch the tub from the table. I pull off the lid and scope up a generous dollop and spread it on my fingers.

Reluctantly I pull myself away from him, making him moan for the loss. He looks up at me expectantly, his eyes darkened with lust.

“Now Vig, this is your first Christmas here. Let me teach you some of our traditions.

It’s Christmas only once a year : let yourself go, no diet, no restraint. You can for instance never use too much butter. This is exceptionally good quality brandy butter and to prove I am not an Ebenezer Scrooge I am going to waste it all on you.”

I push him on his back, going to my knees, my fingers sliding in his cleft, spreading the butter there. He’s spreading his legs eagerly, pleading me to have him, take him.

The scent of the butter reaches me and my mouth waters. It must be the space cake doing it and not me, it can’t be me, but I still bend over to taste him. It makes him howl and even though it may not sound like a Christmas carol, it sure sounds good to me.