Hurts So Good

Hurts So Good

Posted: February 15, 2008
Title: Hurts So Good
Series: Exploring Limits
Sequel to: Peep Show
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 Notes: A birthday gift for Nurse Owens, who likes her men imperfect - so much so that it's spilled over into two stories

*****

"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?"

Orlando had taken a step forward, eager to join his lovers and get some relief for his aching erection when he heard Sean's question. He didn't have any more idea than the older Brit what Viggo might want, but something in Sean's voice alerted him that the request might be out of the ordinary. He hesitated, wanting to hear what Viggo would say. He suspected the two older men held back sometimes out of consideration for his stated aversion to pain. Certainly, he wouldn't have gone along with having hot candle wax poured or painted on his skin. Viggo and Sean thought they were alone, free to indulge their rougher tastes without him holding them back. While he was sure they would welcome him with open arms if he made his presence known, he was also fairly sure, given the tone of the conversation, that Viggo would stifle his request or temper it to fit Orlando's tastes. And that wouldn't be fair to them. Drifting back into the shadows, he waited for Viggo's reply.

"I've been ... doing some reading," Viggo began hesitantly. He'd thought a lot about how to broach his request to Sean, but even in his imagination it hadn't felt this uncomfortable. "You and Orlando are both a lot more – knowledgeable, experienced, than I am – hell, you know that, you both had to show me what I'd been missing ...." Rolling to his side, he leaned on an elbow, grimacing at the pinch of hardening wax.

"It's not about how much experience you have," Sean broke in, reaching forward to cup Viggo's chin and search his eyes. The hint of insecurity he found there sobered him. Had he been so caught up working through his own past that he'd ignored his lover's needs? He kissed Viggo gently, trying to find the words to reassure him. "You know by now there are experiences I'd as soon forget. There's not a damn thing you're missing, Vig, don't ever doubt that."

Viggo returned the kiss avidly, threading his fingers into Sean's hair to hold him still as their tongues danced. Pulling back only enough to draw a breath, his lips quirked in a crooked smile. "And there's no one I want to get experience with but you and 'Lando," Viggo replied. "But I thought it might help to find out a little more about – well, about what we've been doing." He felt Sean tense beneath his fingers and stroked the blond's locks soothingly. "Because I love everything we've done, everything you've taught me. I thought maybe I could find a way to give you back some of the joy you've given me."

"You do," Sean insisted, his voice thick with emotion he wished he had the words to express.

The love shining in Sean's eyes gave Viggo the assurance to continue. "I found some sites online, did some reading. Some of it we've already tried, some of it I'm hoping we'll try together some time, all three of us. But this – " He exhaled, then swallowed hard, gathering his nerve. In his head, he'd composed so many ways to ask for what he wanted, but they all sounded stilted to him now. The only way to say it was to just say it. "I want you to fist me."

If either man had been looking Orlando's way, they would have seen shock, then confusion cross his face. He took a step back, then another one, until he could no longer see them for the kitchen wall. He leaned against the door of the refrigerator, the metal cold against his heated skin. He couldn't get his mind around what Viggo was asking for. Yes, he liked having his lovers' fingers inside him. He loved having either one of them fucking him, but as his gaze fell to his hand, clenched convulsively into a fist, he shuddered. There was no way in hell having that shoved up his arse could be anything short of abuse! He wanted to go in the living room and protest, insist that Sean refuse such a ridiculous request. Except Viggo wanted it, had asked for it. If Sean had suggested it, it would have been different, been a case of protecting Viggo from something he couldn't possibly understand or want. But Viggo had asked for it. Forcing his feet to move, he walked slowly back to the door between the two rooms. He didn't want to watch, but this way, he could interrupt if it got to be too much. His stomach churned uncomfortably, all traces of his earlier arousal gone.

Whatever Sean had expected Viggo to ask, it wasn't that. Stunned into momentary silence, he ran his tongue over his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. "Why?" he asked, pleased that the question sounded more calm than he felt. He didn't want his own feelings to color Viggo's response.

Letting out the breath he'd been holding, Viggo considered his answer. Sean hadn't been shocked or rejected him out of hand – Viggo might have grinned at the unintentional pun if he wasn't still so tightly wound with desire and nerves. "I'm not sure I can explain it," he said honestly. "When you're prepping me, it always feels like it isn't enough. Not that you aren’t thorough," he was quick to clarify, “but I love feeling your fingers inside me, stretching me, filling me. Even when I know you’re going to fuck me, I hate that moment when you pull your fingers out. I want more, want it all – to feel you inside me, all of you, to be connected that intimately – " He shook his head, frustrated at the inadequacy of words to convey how strongly he wanted this.

Despite his own experience, Sean did understand what Viggo was trying to say. Still…. "You have to know it's going to hurt," he responded, squeezing Viggo's shoulder. "M'hands are so big – maybe Orlando – " A quiet snort of laughter from Viggo cut his objection short, and they shared a wry smile. "Yeah, okay, bad idea. But still...."

"I'd love to share the same connection with Orlando, but you know he'd freak at the idea," Viggo answered. "That's one reason I haven't brought it up until now. The other...." He paused, his hand sliding from Sean's hair into a matching grip of his shoulder. "I know it will hurt. I also know you would never hurt me without my consent, or more than I can stand. I trust you." He met Sean's troubled green eyes with a smile that wasn't returned. "You have done this before, haven't you?"

The curt nod of Sean's head was answer enough to set Viggo to once again cursing Robert's legacy. "Forget whatever happened before," he insisted, determined not to reinforce Sean's memories by asking for details. He cupped his lover’s cheek in his palm, rubbing his thumb over the soft bristles of Boromir’s beard. "There's no one here but you and me, and you'll be doing this because I want you to – because I love you."

The intensity in their voices kept Orlando still as he listened to them talk through Viggo's request. Orlando could understand the need to be powerfully, intimately connected to his lovers, but he couldn't understand the means Viggo was choosing to fulfill that need. Sean said it himself – it was going to hurt. Sure, he was coming to appreciate the little smacks on the arse Sean gave him occasionally, but that was child's play compared to what Viggo was asking. He froze when Sean mentioned his name, wondering if the older man had heard him come in. He hoped not. He didn't know if he could say no to Viggo, but he knew he couldn't do what his lover wanted. He glanced down at his fist. His hands weren't small either, even if Sean's were bigger. It wouldn't be any better, any easier coming from him. He sagged in relief when they discarded that idea, frowning a little when he realized how much his lovers were holding back when he was with them. Did he need to leave them alone more often, so they could indulge themselves without his fears limiting their choices? His frown deepened when he realized, probably at the same time Viggo did, that Robert's ghost had returned to haunt them once again. He almost stepped forward at that point, but he couldn't help put this particular fear to rest, not as uncomfortable as he was with the subject at hand.

Sean's continued silence had nearly convinced Viggo he was going to refuse, when the blond crushed Viggo to him and kissed him roughly, his tongue plunging deep and sweeping through every crevice of Viggo's mouth demandingly, insistently. Viggo opened himself willingly to the assault, his tongue meeting Sean's but giving the other man full control of the kiss. His pulse was throbbing in his veins, his cock achingly hard against his belly, his lips bruised when they finally broke apart. "I did promise you anything," Sean growled, his voice softening when he met Viggo's eyes. "There's no one else I'd do this for, love."

"I know," Viggo said quietly, holding his gaze.

Orlando flinched as if slapped at Sean's words. He would never ask for such rough treatment, but that wasn't the point. Sean clearly didn't believe he could take it. And that was the point. He was the one who should be making that decision, not Sean. That was why they had safe words, wasn't it? Why they talked about things before they tried them. So that they could each make their own decision about what they wanted and didn't. He could feel his temper starting to spark, although he tried to tamp it down for the moment. He would bide his time and see what else Sean was keeping from him, see if there was more to this than just different tolerances for pain.

Sean's eyes fluttered closed, shaken by the unconditional trust shining from Viggo's gaze. Drawing a deep breath, he rose to his feet, offering his hand to help Viggo sit up. "Then let's take this up to the bedroom," he said. "I want you as comfortable as possible, and we have some prep to take care of before we get started."

"I'm clean," Viggo said softly as they started toward the stairs, the admission bringing another rush of heat to his face. "I told you I'd been thinking about this for a while. When Orlando said he'd be gone all weekend, I ... well, I've been watching my diet for the last few days, and I – cleaned myself out before I came over."

Orlando choked back the sob that rose to his throat, sinking down onto the kitchen floor as the other two started up the stairs toward Sean's bedroom. It was bad enough, thinking this was some spur of the moment decision, something that had struck Viggo while he and Sean played, but to know he'd been planning it, had been looking forward to Orlando's absence so he could get something he needed and couldn't get while Orlando was there .... The churning in his stomach was back, for an entirely different reason this time. He was holding them back, keeping them from exploring facets of their relationship. It tore at him to think of it, but he realized he had some serious re-evaluating to do.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Sean tucked a strand of hair behind Viggo's ear and paused on the steps to kiss him, more gently this time. "Should have known you'd done your homework." Pushing his lover gently toward the bed, Sean flicked on a light, dimming it to a warm, muted glow. "Lie down and relax. I'm going to wash up and get a few things ready."

Viggo sank onto the bed, his stomach tight with anticipation. Getting ready for the night, he wasn't sure he'd have the nerve to actually ask or that Sean wouldn't refuse; now that it was actually going to happen, he was still just as nervous. Closing his eyes, he began the routine he'd found worked best to help him relax. Letting his limbs sink into the mattress, he tensed each muscle in turn and then released it, working up from his toes, his ankles, his calves, his knees, his thighs. When he reached his chest he began to breathe deeply, long, slow breaths that purged more of his tension with each exhalation. You want this, he reminded himself. You want to give this to Sean. It's going to be good, so good.... His erection bobbed against his abdomen, all the relaxation techniques in the world useless to quell his arousal at the thought of what was to come.

Sinking fast into his headspace, Viggo's eyelids felt heavy when they fluttered open at Sean's weight settling onto the bed. The blond smiled at him, running the back of his knuckles over the stubble on Viggo's cheek. "God, you're beautiful," Sean murmured, bending down for a gentle kiss. "Need to take care of a couple things before you get too deep, though." Viggo nodded, and Sean held his gaze. "Do you want me to wear a glove?"

Viggo shook his head, then forced himself to answer out loud. "No – no glove. Want to feel you, know it's your skin touching me."

Sean nodded. He wanted that, too, but he'd needed to offer Viggo the choice. "I've trimmed all my nails nice and short, and luckily I don't have any open cuts." Given the intensity of the fight scenes during filming, that couldn't always be said. "What about the wax – want it off first?"

Viggo shook his head again. "Leave it?" he asked, wanting to know that Sean would still see the way he'd marked him.

"Roll over," Sean urged as Viggo turned onto his stomach. "Scoot up on your knees a bit." Viggo settled into the new position, feeling a bit vulnerable as he presented himself and Sean spread his cheeks, examining him. Relax, he told himself again, breathing deeply. Trust Sean.

"This needs to go," Sean decided, brushing at the trails of wax that had dripped down Viggo's crease. As much as he admired the contrast of deep purple wax against pale skin, he wouldn't risk any of it getting inside. Unfolding the thick, fluffy towel he'd brought from the bathroom onto the bed beneath them, he spread Viggo open again. "This will hurt a bit," he warned, peeling away the first blotch of congealed wax.

The pull of hairs caught in the wax stung, but no worse than removing a band-aid, Viggo decided. Catching his bottom lip between his teeth, he endured having the rest of the wax removed, humming when Sean smoothed a cool, soothing lotion over the sensitized skin.

"Lube," Sean chuckled at Viggo's contented sigh. "Get used to it – going to be using a lot, more than you're used to, probably. And any time you need more, tell me, all right?"

"Mnn-hmmnn," Viggo agreed, finding it hard to form words again. He let his knees slide a little further apart, the gentle, rhythmic touch of Sean's fingers sliding down his cleft calming him, settling him. When a fingertip skittered over his entrance, he moaned softly, a tremble shaking him. "Please..."

"Not yet," Sean countered, his fingers never faltering in their tender caress, his other hand reaching below Viggo to circle his cock. "Want you to come for me, first." His lubed palm slid over the silken skin, measuring its length in steady strokes that matched the pace of his fingertips, his thumb flicking over the head each time he skated over the puckered opening that clenched at every contact.

"Want to – come – when you're – inside – me – " Viggo protested, his voice breaking each time Sean's fingers teased him.

"You'll be much more relaxed if you come first," Sean purred into Viggo's ear, leaning forward to lap at the salty skin of Viggo's neck. When he felt droplets of fluid welling from the slit below his thumb, he let the tip of his finger just press inside, barely enough to stretch the guardian muscle. Viggo moaned louder, his hips arching into Sean's touch, but his lover refused to be rushed, keeping to the same steady, maddening pace. Each stroke sent Viggo soaring higher and sinking deeper, until his awareness shrank down to only Sean's hands, stroking him, tantalizing him, kindling a heat that spread through his veins until it consumed him. With a hoarse cry, he stiffened under Sean's touch and came hard, his body shuddering with each pulse that erupted from him, until he collapsed against the mattress, totally spent.

The strangled sound reached Orlando's ears, pulling him from his self-pity. He jumped to his feet before he could consider the wisdom of it and started toward the bedroom. Yes, he knew Viggo had asked for whatever was going on in there, and no, he didn't think Sean would abuse that trust, but he had to make sure. Still trying to move quietly, he climbed the stairs, skipping the third step with the squeaky tread. He wouldn't intrude unless he had to, but he needed to see for himself. When he arrived, though, he realized immediately that the cry he'd heard had been one of pleasure. He recognized the limp relaxation in Viggo's pose.

Easing his hand from beneath Viggo's damp stomach, Sean lifted his temporarily boneless lover just long enough to position a pillow underneath him. He turned his head for a moment, brushing the hair from his forehead and taking a deep breath to ready himself. Resuming the slow stroke of his fingers down Viggo's crease, he added more lube and slid one finger inside, meeting, as he'd expected, even less than the normal resistance. He slid the finger in and out slowly, twisting it inside the clinging sheath until it moved freely, adding more lube and using several more slow, curling thrusts to distribute it before inserting a second finger. He knew Viggo could take a third finger, even a fourth, with little more preparation, but this was as much about preparing Viggo's mind as it was his body, and Sean wasn't about to rush either one.

Viggo was still floating on the glow of his orgasm when Sean's finger breached him, so gently he barely felt the penetration. The unbroken rhythm kept him hovering on that blissful plateau, filling him and receding and filling him again with the inexorable consistency of waves bathing the shore. His breathing slowed and steadied, matching the ebb and flow of Sean's fingers: breathe in – fill; breathe out – withdraw; breathe in – fill and twist. A peaceful lassitude embraced him, so much that to arch his hips into Sean's touch, even to give voice to the pleasure he was feeling, would take more energy than he could muster. Sean knew what he was feeling, his heart told him. Sean would give him what he needed.

When he could curl two fingers inside without resistance, Sean added more lube and slipped in a third finger, letting them rub for the first time over Viggo's prostate. That won a moan from his blissed-out lover, and he bent down over Viggo's back for a moment, chuckling. "Just checking you were still with me," he rumbled. Viggo muttered something that might have been "bastard," but Sean couldn't be sure, the pillows swallowing most of the sound. He took his time stroking and twisting, only occasionally nudging Viggo's gland with the steady motions.

Orlando didn't know what he expected to see, but at the moment, he saw only the familiar sight of Sean fingering Viggo's arse. Three fingers, to be sure, but Sean had done that before, to him as well. More than that, though, Orlando recognized the acceptance in Viggo's posture. He wanted this, and however uncomfortable that made Orlando, it was still Viggo's choice. Forcing himself to stay outside the room in the shadows, he continued to watch the scene playing out in the light of the dimmed chandelier.

By the time he'd eased a fourth finger past Viggo's relaxed muscle, Sean's own erection had returned, hard and hot. This was as far as he'd ever taken Viggo with his fingers, and his cock wanted what usually came next. Ignoring its insistent throb, he twisted his hand in the same slow rhythm, spreading the fingers as much as he could to stretch the portal for what was coming next.

Viggo could feel himself being stretched, but he'd been this open before – more, even, with some of the larger plugs from the toy box. With four fingers in him, Sean couldn't help but brush over his prostate with every movement, and Viggo focused on that, the heady buzz of pleasure coming regular as a metronome with each unvaried stroke. It was just enough to keep him on edge and too little to satisfy, and after another few thrusts he whimpered softly, trying to find his voice to ask for more.

Sean had just poured more lube over his hand, folding his thumb in between the longer fingers, when Viggo's moan made him pause before pressing in. "Still doing all right, love?" he asked, bending close to Viggo's face. The artist had closed his eyes when he'd come, but he hadn't given any hint of being distressed, until now. Viggo whimpered again and Sean froze, ready to pull out completely if he needed to, when the artist shook his head.

"M-more," Viggo whispered, forcing his eyes open to meet Sean's. "Please – don't stop."

Sean closed his lips over Viggo's as he eased all five fingers in slowly, stopping when the widest part of his knuckles rested between Viggo's cheeks. Rotating them slowly, he watched for any sign of pain, but Viggo's moans were of pleasure as Sean stroked inside him. "You're doing so well, Vig," Sean praised, spreading the furled fingers as widely as he could. "Just a little more now ... are you ready?"

"Now," Viggo panted, willing himself not to push or clench in his need to feel Sean inside him. "Want you – all of you – "

Upending the bottle, Sean drizzled lube generously over his hand and Viggo's crease, pressing inward as he twisted with excruciating slowness. It felt as if he could feel himself, cell by cell, sliding inside Viggo, the clinging slickness welcoming him, drawing him in.

He wanted to keep his eyes open, wanted to watch as Sean filled him, but as the stretch continued, Viggo found he needed all his attention just to keep breathing, in and out, biting his lip to keep from letting out any sound that might make Sean stop. Yes, it burned, but not more than he could bear, knowing that he was opening himself for his lover. There was a sudden moment of fierce pain and then it was gone and Sean was sliding inside him, easily, it seemed, and he cried out in relief and sudden joy. "Sean! Oh fuck, Sean...."

Bracing himself with his free hand above Viggo's head, Sean kissed him wetly, messily, wildly. "Love you," he whispered against Viggo's lips, "love you so bloody much...."

"I ... can feel you," Viggo murmured, awe tingeing his voice. "Feel your pulse, your heart beating, inside me...."

Orlando flinched. He could hear the emotions in Viggo's voice as clearly as if he felt them himself, and he knew that however bothered he was by everything he'd seen, Viggo wasn't. And the love, the dedication he heard in Viggo's voice drew him like a lodestone. He had already shifted his weight, starting to walk in and join them, when he realized what would happen if he did. They'd freeze up. Sean would withdraw quickly so he wouldn't make Orlando uncomfortable, possibly hurting Viggo in the process. Viggo would be all apologetic about having needs that Orlando couldn't meet, and it would destroy the very thing he wanted to join. Better to wait until they were done, and he could deal with everything he'd learned today, about them and about himself.

Viggo stretched to reach Sean's lips again, his tongue driving deep into Sean's mouth, wanting to fill his lover as completely as he was filled, an unbroken connection of body and spirit. If only – he pushed the thought away and cupped Sean's cheek in his palm, surprised to find moisture there. He brushed at the drops with his fingertips, hoping he’d managed to replace at least one of his lover’s painful memories. "I love you. And I want you to make love to me."

"Be a bit of a tight fit," Sean said shakily. "Maybe I'd better pull out first and see how you feel after that, eh?"

"Pretty sure I'll still want you," Viggo murmured as Sean began to work his hand free, nearly as slowly as he'd worked it in. They were both breathing raggedly when Sean finally slid out, wiping the lube from his hand on the bathroom towel. Viggo rolled onto his side, wincing at the emptiness as much as the pain, pulling Sean between his legs and into a heated kiss. Only when he worked a hand between their bodies to grasp their resurgent cocks did Sean draw back from the embrace, turning his head to look over his shoulder at the shadowed doorway.

" Orlando?" he called. "Maybe you'd like to join us now?"

*****

THE END

Go to the next story in the series: Bottoming Out

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