Peep Show

Peep Show

Posted: February 15, 2008
Title: Peep Show
Series: Exploring Limits
Sequel to: Playing With Fire
Author: Ariel Tachna and namárië120
Type: RPS
Characters: Orlando/Sean/Viggo
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: We don’t know the actors and don’t make any claims about them. We just make up stories when we get bored.
Beta: Sileya the sultry
Author's Note: Happy Birthday, Sue! We saved some VigBean just for you.

*****

Sean ran his tongue swiftly up Viggo's crack, tasting sweat and the Dane's unique flavor. Using one hand to part the rounded cheeks slightly, he contemplated his next move.

Having spent the day surfing, Orlando had found himself facing the prospect of bedding down with the Hobbits. Given that the other alternative was coming home to his lovers, it hadn't been much of a choice. He walked into Sean's house through the back door, dropping his bag in the kitchen and going in search of the two older men. He reached the threshold of the living room and froze, arrested by the sight of Viggo spread out on the table, Sean leaning over him, candle in hand.

Desire swamped him as he took in the scene, Viggo's wiry body completely bare and open to anything Sean wanted, Sean still clothed casually, suggesting they had not planned this, but rather that it had developed spontaneously. As always, when Viggo was subbing, Orlando was torn between the desire to be in his place, his pleasure totally dependent on Sean's whim, and the desire to be in Sean's place, with complete mastery over Viggo. They were so perfectly matched, his two lovers, in age, in life experience, in size. Sometimes he wondered what they saw in a kid like him. It was subtle, the way they treated him differently, as if he was fragile. He thought they'd figured out that his back injury didn't slow him down anymore, that if anything, it had made him stronger than he looked, but maybe not.

Viggo drew another of the deep, regular breaths that helped him keep from squirming in impatience. Trust Sean, he told himself, repeating the words with each inhalation, releasing tension with each exhalation, the mantra and the breathing settling him, freeing him from the constant noise of thoughts in his head and letting him simply be in the moment, simply feel. His skin prickled with awareness, as if unseen eyes were watching him. Admiring him. Hoping Sean was enjoying the picture he presented, he let the pride go, too, offering everything he was to Sean in silent acquiescence to his lover's desires.

He could practically see the stages Viggo passed through as he settled into his headspace, Sean thought, flushed with pride again that this magnificent man trusted him enough to submit to him. Tracing a finger down the curve of Viggo's spine, he noted the involuntary tightening and flex of his arse muscles. "So responsive," he murmured, dipping a fingertip into the liquid wax pooled around the candle wick and on a whim tracing a small heart on one firm cheek. "So beautiful."

Orlando shivered as he watched them, both from the idea of the hot wax striking tender skin and from the tenderness in the gesture and Sean's voice. The blond's hand lifted and tilted and a bit of wax splattered across Viggo's arse. His hips rose in response, his breath catching, but the blissed out look on his face never faltered. Orlando couldn't stop the reflexive wince even as Viggo moaned, clearly asking for more. Despite his immediate reaction, though, Orlando’s cock swelled as he watched. He could certainly see the allure from Sean’s point of view, though he couldn’t quite imagine it from Viggo’s.

Frowning as the next splash of wax trickled down the crease between Viggo's cheeks, Sean set the candle on the side table. He'd been careful to hold the flame high enough that the wax had time to cool slightly before hitting Viggo's skin, but he wouldn't take the chance of an accidental spill burning tender flesh. Viggo's head turned, either at the sound or the loss of Sean's attentions, and the blond took a moment to reassure him.

"I'm still here, Vig," he said, the finger he slid up the shadowed cleft tantalizing even as it confirmed the spill hadn't hurt more than it was meant to. "Going to get something from the toy box – I'll be right back."

Viggo swallowed a moan at the erotic possibilities of Sean's statement. He thought he'd kept still enough that he didn't need to be restrained, and positioned as he was, a blindfold would serve little purpose. His nerves still quivering at Sean's brief caress, he clenched his muscles against the pinch of the cooling wax. His body ached for Sean to fill him, to claim him, but he’d learned enough of his lover's temperament to sense it was too soon for that. Maybe a plug, he thought hopefully – even that stretch would be welcome, as hot as he was already from this new game they were playing.

Orlando held his breath as he waited to see what Sean would retrieve from the wooden chest, all the while cataloguing the care the blond was clearly taking to make sure Viggo wasn’t hurt. He reminded himself again that Sean had promised to take care of them when they played these games. His self-protective instincts still warred with that trust, though.

Sean’s movements drew his eye to the toy box, and Orlando wondered what he was looking for. He couldn't tell if Viggo was wearing his cock ring, but putting it on now would surely be painful. The nipple clamps weren't really an option, either – they'd bite into the wood of the table rather than hanging loose to tantalize the sensitive points. His mind raced, cataloguing the other items he'd seen on the few occasions when he'd glanced inside, but he hadn't even considered the small paintbrush Sean returned with. He could feel a frown creasing his forehead as he wondered what the blond intended to do.

His anticipation flaring when Sean's hands returned to spread his cheeks, Viggo willed himself to relax his guardian muscle. Instead of the blunt silicon head of a plug or the cool glide of lube, though, he felt the faintest, gentlest tickle, too soft even to be Sean's fingertip. The surprised muscle trembled, and he fought not to whimper in disappointment.

"You like that?" Sean's voice was smoky with lust and a trace of underlying humor.

"What – what is it?" Viggo asked, his own voice cracking at a repeat of the teasing caress.

"Paintbrush," Sean murmured, trailing the bristles up the vertebrae of the artist's spine. "I nicked it from your studio one afternoon when you were feeling artistic. You looked so bloody fuckable, I knew I'd have to use it on you one day."

Orlando stifled a moan. He was pretty sure he knew exactly the day Sean was talking about. The two of them had arrived at Viggo's, expecting to steal the Ranger away for the day, only to find him shirtless and covered in paint, his torn jeans hugging the curves of his lower body so tightly that he might as well have been naked. They'd waited and watched for over an hour as Viggo's muses drove him to create. And when he was done, their usually laid-back lover was as ferocious as Orlando had ever seen him, taking control of their lovemaking as he rarely did, leaving him and Sean both in a panting heap when they were done. He shivered at the thought, wondering what it would take to provoke that side of Viggo again. It was definitely an experience he’d be willing to repeat!

The prickle crawling up his back made Viggo shiver, even as his cock tightened at the memory of the day Sean must have taken the brush. He seldom felt driven to take a dominant role in their lovemaking; following the lead of his more experienced lovers was mind-blowing in itself. That afternoon, though, fired by the thrill of capturing his vision on canvas, he couldn't get enough of either Sean or Orlando. He'd taken them both, claimed them both, marking their bodies with paint and sweat and come. Not for the first time, he gave silent thanks for lovers who understood him better than he did himself, who knew when he needed to take and when he needed to give. Right now, he needed exactly what Sean was offering. If only Orlando were here too – he stopped that line of thought before it could continue. He wouldn't diminish his time with Sean thinking about their missing lover – and besides, there were things he'd been reading about, tempted to try, that he'd kept silent about, knowing they'd cross the line of Orlando's comfort. Maybe this weekend he'd find the courage to ask ....

Sean's voice was a warm rasp in his ear, startling him. "Still with me?" the blond asked, tasting the skin behind the whorled lobe.

"Mmnnn," Viggo hummed, struggling for words. "Yeah. Want you."

"Not yet," Sean answered, as Viggo had known he would. He lowered his head in acceptance and waited.

Dipping the tip of the brush in the melted well of the candle, Sean tested the temperature on his inner wrist. Satisfied it wasn't hot enough to cause permanent harm, he loaded the bristles with more wax and drizzled a path across the plane of Viggo's back, leaving the droplets in some places, dragging over the skin to broaden the line in others. Smiling at the way Viggo arched up to meet the brush, he dipped up more wax and added to the abstract design, spiralling lower to mark his lover's taut buttocks. It would be a pure pleasure to spread those arse cheeks when he was ready to give Vig the fucking they both ached for!

Orlando's body hummed in response, almost as if the bristles were tickling his skin instead of Viggo's. He imagined he could feel them brush down his back, over his arse. He wasn't sure he wanted to feel the burn of the candle wax, although it didn't seem to bother Viggo, but he longed to know what the soft bristles would do to his skin. He almost stepped forward, almost asked if he could join them, but he didn't want to intrude. He knew Sean; everything that came out of the toy box went back in. He’d get his chance with the brush, and maybe he’d work up the courage to let Sean paint him, too. Viggo was obviously enjoying the heat of the wax! He could feel the weight of his nerves holding him back, and he chafed against their restrictions. He either trusted Sean or he didn’t. Despite saying that he did, he wondered now just how far that trust truly extended. He was going to have to work on that.

"I wish you could see yourself," Sean murmured, swirling the brush around the tattoo nestled at the base of Viggo's spine, just above the swell of his buttocks. Dropping to one knee, he blew gently over the reddened skin and then ran his tongue across the inked mark, setting the candle aside and gripping Viggo's hips when the older man trembled. His lips sliding lower, Sean nuzzled the dimple that topped his lover's musky crease, careful not to break the wax as he parted the embellished globes. "Next time I'll plan better, have more colours ready," he added, his words ghosting over the sensitive skin, even there streaked with droplets of rich purple.

"Oh, fuck, Sean," Viggo groaned, his lover's warm breath raising goosebumps and making him clench with desire. His artist's eye could imagine the picture he made, imagine decorating his lovers' bodies the same way. He'd be sure to have his camera ready on that day.... Sean's tongue, hot and wet, dragged down his cleft and he moaned again, unashamedly. "Fuck me," he pleaded to his lover, "need you, babe, need to feel you..."

Orlando's hand slid beneath the waistband of his jeans, stroking his cock in time to Viggo's pleading. He shouldn't have been so turned on just from watching them, but this was ten times – hell, a hundred times better than watching porn. These were his lovers in front of him, providing him with a far more intimate, erotic show than anything he'd ever seen on screen. He wanted to see this played out. And then, when they were done, he'd join them and let them provide him with the same relief they were giving each other. He’d have earned it for his patience!

Sean wanted nothing more than to give into Viggo's plea, but as his hand slid beneath the waist of his track pants to grip his cock, still sticky from his earlier climax, another impulse struck him, equally strong. He pushed the damp cloth down his hips with his free hand, rising to his feet and kicking it aside, his fist encircling his resurgent erection. "Wanna mark you," he husked, his hand shuttling over his swelling flesh. His eyes met Viggo's when the older man twisted his head to watch him, the flare in their green depths a silent request for his lover to understand why he needed this.

Nothing else could have overridden Viggo's desperate need to feel Sean stretching him, filling him – but the image of Sean's white come spattering over the purple wax was so compelling that Viggo's cock surged hard against his belly. He worked a hand down his torso to grip the base of his shaft, squeezing the way Sean had taught him to keep himself from coming. "You owe me," he rasped, watching Sean's face as the blond stroked himself roughly, using the power of his words to drive him even higher. "Come on me, Sean. Mark me. Paint me with your cream...."

The image Viggo conjured with his words was so compelling that Orlando had to fight not to come as well, forcing his hand to release his throbbing erection and biting the heel of his hand hard to keep from groaning aloud and spoiling the moment. Just a little longer, he told himself. He could hold on long enough to let them finish before joining them for the second round. He’d figured out long ago that he enjoyed being watched. He was beginning to think watching was just as much of a turn-on. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this hard without someone else’s hands on him.

Sean’s eyes locked with Viggo's, his lover's sinfully hoarse voice urging him on. He knew he wasn't going to be able to hold back much longer, despite having come once already. Dragging his thumb over the head of his cock, twisting as he palmed the shaft, his balls pulled up tight where he cupped them in his other hand. "Anything," he promised raggedly, "give you anything you want – everything I've got – ah, Christ – coming – Viggo!"

The splash of Sean's climax felt nearly as hot as the wax where it sprayed over Viggo's ass and up his back, thick white droplets pooling in hollows and weaving through the hardened purple trails. Fighting the urge to fist himself to his own release, Viggo let his head fall to the tabletop, panting through the shudders that wracked him at each spurt of Sean's come hitting his skin.

As soon as his vision had cleared and his cock emptied its last drops, Sean fell to his knees beside the table, his fingers burrowing into Aragorn's shaggy hair to turn Viggo's head and claim his lips in a fierce, almost feral kiss. His tongue invaded Viggo's mouth, fucking him as he'd begged to be fucked, shaken by the strength of his emotions at the gift his lover had given him.

Viggo gave himself willingly to Sean’s lips, leaning his weight on one elbow to clutch the back of Sean's head and drag him closer, his tongue meeting his partner's with equal hunger and the full force of his own unsatisfied need. Only the insistent throb of blood in his cock finally forced him to break the kiss, drawing air back into his lungs in deep, shaking gasps.

"You owe me," he reminded Sean, not because he was keeping score, but because a part of him was afraid, still – afraid to admit the desire that had fascinated him until it had become something of an obsession, afraid Sean might refuse. "Anything – anything I want – "

"Anything," Sean agreed, hesitating at the uneasy expression in Viggo's changeable eyes. "You don't need my promise to ask for anything you want, you know that, don't you, Vig?" His brows rose as a faint hint of red tinged his lover's cheeks. "Vig? What the fuck do you want me to do to you?”

*****

THE END

Go to the next story in the series: Hurts So Good

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