All Saints

All Saints

Posted: November 11, 2005
Title: All Saints
Author: Helena Snow-Renn
Type: RPS
Characters: Sean/Viggo
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: As always, this is fiction. It never happened.
Timeline: AU... 20 years from now. Halloween night.
Warnings: Uh... Sex? Considering the timeframe, make that 'geriatric.' Schmoop, attempted humor. The crack fairy keeps trying to visit, but the schmoop fairy always beats him off... or something like that.
Summary: Sean wants to have a MEEEERRRREEEE Halloween. Huh?
Author's Notes: Yes, one of those stories that 1) would not squeeze itself off at the appropriate deadline and 2) it wasn't getting any better so I gave up. *headdesk*

*****

It was getting late, on Halloween night. Sean had just returned from locking the front door and shutting off the lights downstairs. The kids round the block were long home for the evening. Subliminally, Viggo heard the British man reentering the upstairs lounge, but he was otherwise occupied.

A black velvet drawstring bag was dropped in his lap where he sat reading the poetry of an up-an-comer. "Merry Halloween, Viggo!"

Putting aside his book, the still-attractive sixty-something man opened his present. A little smile curled the corners of his lips, widening when he saw what was inside. "Sean, you kinky slut! What is THAT? Your revenge for 'Happy Christmas?' You know I can't say that; it just doesn't sound natural to American ears."

"Mehbeh. I'd think merry is more fun than happy. 'Sides, it has nothin' t'do with yer ears..."

"'Fun?' You looking for fun?" Viggo threw the lightening-zap look at his British mate that never failed to shiver him.

"'Course I am...always am. But I'm lookin' for merry, too."

"What's with you? Are you trying to be cryptic or something? You can't mean Merry the hobbit. You're not keeping secrets after this long... or are you...?"

Sean tilted his head back and laughed; it sounded a bit fake, and it made Viggo wonder what Sean was trying to pull over on him. "That's a fine lad, that is, in a scruffy, kinda... wastrel kinda way. Oh, not bad, but..."

"He's not a lad any more, old man."

"Oh, gawd, MUST yeh bring that up at EVEREH possible opportuniteh?" Sean's accent went as broad as the Amazon delta and his 'r's rolled brogue-like, taking up his entire mouth just to contain the quiet thunder of them. "Yer as bad as the internet bird, wasser name again? Yeh know which one I mean."

"Oh, yeah, I do." Viggo smiled. The hint of laugh in a quiet answer on that particular subject was another of their special formulae that Sean understood without saying meant 'reading internet porn again.' "She never gives up, does she?"

"Still at it after twenty-odd years. Yeh think she'll ever get over it?"

"Why, Sean? I've never gotten over it. Why should she?"

"Erm... well... I see your point. But stop tryin' t'distract me."

"What was it again?" Viggo asked him, remembering that he'd been deciphering whatever obscure message Sean was playing at. "Oh, yes. Your 'merry.'"

"Roight. I wanna have a Merry Halloween. Well, I guess by the time we get it done, might be a bit late..."

"Sean, please! Just spit it out." Sean leered at him. "You filthy pervert! What are you trying to say? It's more than just a new cock ring, isn't it?"

"Aye. I want a meeeerrrreeee Halloween."

"You want to marry a holiday?" was the best Viggo could do.

"No, but tha's closer..." Sean was baiting him with his voice, coaxing him to keep trying.

"Uh... you want to get married on Halloween?" He was not expecting to be right.

"Yes! Yer brilliant. Only took yeh how many minutes worth of 'duh.'"

The Danish-American actor wasn't sure what to say. "But... What are you telling me, exactly, Sean?"

"Well, they finally did the unthinkable, right? On yer side of the pond." He took a deep breath, and lowered himself to his knees in front of Viggo. "Yeh think if we caught the Concorde, that we'd make it over to the States while it was still Halloween?"

Now Viggo truly goggled at him, feeling silly for the open-mouthed gape but serious at the same time. "Yes, we'd make it but... Why now, after all this time? I mean, we could've gone to the Netherlands... Canada..."

"Wouldn't quite mean the same thing, y'know? They're not home."

Sean was inching forward, nudging his legs apart, insinuating himself, which impaired Viggo's ability to ask intelligent questions. "Never expected... what about... kids...?"

"For god's sake Viggo, I'll be havin' no baby of yours!"

For that, he got his arm punched. Hard. "Fucker!" Sean told him good-naturedly. "Anyway, they're all grown, or as good as. I'm a grandfather, for heaven's sakes!"

"And a shameless one, too," Viggo smirked. "So... are we going to have rings and all that?"

"I gave yeh one, yeh daft sod! No, really. Funny that you of all people should think about 'proper.' ... I mean, yeah, if yeh want. 'S far as I'm concerned, we don't need 'em. We've been 'as good as' for so long, plus we've got the marks t' show for it." For the first time, the green eyes looked away. "If... if I should die..."

Viggo put a finger to the man's still-in-motion lips. "No, no, don't say such a thing. That's no way to think. Yes, it could happen to anyone, anytime." He raised his hand. "Realist here. But I don't want to let the thought of anything like that spoil even one day."

"If you won't consider it, I will. I have. I'd want to go knowing that at th' end, I'd done right by yeh, love of me life."

Unable to help it, Viggo rolled his eyes. "What drippy romance novel have you been reading?"

"None," Sean colored slightly. "I should write it, me, and make some moneh!"

"As if you need any more, Sir Sean."

"No, I don't, I know that. I got more'n enough. So, it don't matter what else I do, if it's gonna make meh happy. And you, of course, yeh bugger." His expression became worried. "Would tha' not make yeh 'appy?"

"Mellow out, Sean! What am I going to say--'I'm not ready yet'? I've considered us as one since..." His blue-gray eyes took on a far-away look, "...well, since we put each other through all hell... tests of fire and love and... We had things to get out of your systems, didn't we? And we had to allow for some few people to get us out of theirs." They shared a significant look. "You want the truth...? I need nothing more from you than the sight, sound, and feel of my beautiful golden lover..."

"Grey now," Sean interrupted.

"Silver then... but you'll always be golden to me. Anyway... for him... you... to be there with me... telling me you love me...begging to take my cock..."

Even now, Sean blushed with alacrity over words like that. "Shut up, you! Yer gonna get me all excited."

Viggo reached out, took hold of Sean's hand and led it to his groin. "Too late for me." It had been a few days, somehow. The same fire-hot need flared up, in the simple act of a hand sliding along the long, hard ridge through jeans, the unsubtle shift and nudges of its mate's against the inner curve of hip. One deprived-sounding groan rose, and a careful imitation several notes lower.

"C'n still make yah moan, eh?"

"Oh, fuck Sean...I need... is it alright...?" If the Dane expected to be turned down, his thick fingers threading into Sean's hair and pulling him closer had nothing to say about it.

"What, Vig?" Sean looked at him quizzically.

"If tomorrow night is our wedding night and all, maybe we should wait till then."

"Fook tha'!" The Brit sounded a bit incensed at the idea, in fact.

"I was hoping you'd say that." They reached for each other's bodies with an insistence worthy of men half their ages. So it had been with them always. Their lips met, followed by tongues, Sean leaning in heavily to plaster himself against Viggo's chest while snaking his hands around slim hips to grab his arse and pull their erections into closer contact.

Breathing heavily, Viggo pulled his mouth away and growled, "Any more of this, Sean, and we're not leaving this house till morning."

"That would be fine by me." The return growl was deeper yet, more desperate. "If I can't have a Merry Halloween, I'll settle for All Saint's Day."

"Oh, right..." Viggo paused to rub his smooth-shaven cheek against Sean's. "I'd forgotten about that. It seems even more fitting...Though we're hardly a couple of saints." He looked into those deep emerald eyes, which were 'on' with lust for him. Inside his uncomfortably tight jeans, he was throbbing against the zip. "Jesus, Sean, you should see yourself. I've watched almost forty years worth of you turning it on, and you still do it to me every time."

"Do wha'?" The half-smile had a definite wolfish edge.

"As if you don't know, you git!" Sean smiled wider. He liked how the other man had picked up some of his slang. "You're a trained actor, been doing it most your life. And the sexiest man on this earth. You know damn well what you're doing!"

"I might." The grip on Viggo's ass tightened; they ground together, the friction delicious but frustrating. Finally he said, "Naked. You. Now. Mornin' works for me. C'mon. Le's get ourselves into th' bedroom before we can't." Sean stood, grinning wryly when his knees cracked, and pulled Viggo up from his slouch on the chair. They stumbled their way down the hallway like a couple of drunken sailors. In a way, they were drunk, drugged, off each other. It was always so.

Just outside the bedroom door, Sean, ever impatient, pushed his lover's back against the wall. "I want yeh right now." He fumbled his pants open and went to work on Viggo's. "Fookin' button fly, Jesus Vig...!" Blood roared in his ears and into his groin; he was thinking in terms of skin, heat, cock, love, need... The men wrestled with their own clothes and each other's. Naked seemed to take forever, despite how in reality it was only seconds.

"Years ago, I'd probably have fought you about this," Viggo panted as the warm golden skin he'd been craving poured honey-soft into his personal space.

"Yeah, you'd have...and not so long ago, too," Sean answered before he claimed his territory with lips and tongue.

Jerking his head to the side, the darker man quipped, "I should fight you now, just to keep up the status quo."

"You can try," Sean growled, pressing his chest against Viggo's torso to hold him in place. "If I win, what do I get?"

"You know what you get." Viggo pushed back against him, so that he had to force his tongue in and plant his feet for a moment to keep his lover where he wanted him. With their chests skin to skin and ribs to ribs, his nipples, already erect and stinging with tautness on their own, were abraded by the other man's course chest hair, and he actually found himself moving his torso left and right to get more of it. The Dane's hard little nubs poked at him in return. He found he could not keep his fingers off them, and he played them as just as he'd been taught Viggo liked it--pinches, little twists, and the blunt edge of his fingernail scratched across the tip.

When he thought the other man's guard might be a little lowered, he insinuated his toes between Viggo's ankles and hooked one far to the side. The blue eyes opened and met his, narrowing slightly as if to say, 'I knew that was coming,' but their kiss remained unbroken. Inside one mouth and then the other, tongues circled and twined. They sucked at each other and rubbed their bodies together. Viggo's back against the hard wall provided a base of sorts, a stabilization, but Sean knew he would soon be carrying this, literally. Bending his knees, he lowered himself so that the tip of his erection left a wet streak down Viggo's thick shaft, then into the hair of his balls, and finally slicking back between his legs to his hidden entrance.

"You planning to take me dry?" the darker man gasped, but he wasn't complaining.

"I think ah'm pretteh wet," Sean answered.

Viggo looked pointedly into the darkened green eyes again. "I think you're right. So do me." It was enough. Sean began to push himself inside, going as slow as he could, using the control he'd practiced many times and for once appreciating the advantages of a longer lead up. Without lube, he was gripped so snugly it nearly hurt him, but that intensely tight friction just turned him on more. Every little nuance of his penetration reflected in Viggo's eyes: the initial stretch, from nothing to wide enough to take his mushroomed head, followed by the slight relief of the not quite as thick shaft, and then once again of being filled, full, more than full, stuffed, oh shit sweet spot! Pink lips went snarly-slack and growls issued. Sean began to thrust for the sheer pleasure of thrusting, aiming for that spot that would make Viggo unravel and spray them in cream.

Viggo's long legs slid further and further apart; Sean's bent knees were starting to scream at him, and his hips needed more leverage and less of trying to aim straight up into the clutching hole surrounding him. "Damn, yer heavy, yeh bugger," Sean panted. As usual, Viggo saw what he needed before could say. Quick as a snake striking, the Dane's legs lifted, hooking around his waist. Grunting, Sean shifted his stance slightly for better balance and slammed his hips forward while Viggo grappled for his own position. They were both sweating from their efforts, the male scent mingling like sexual incense.

It seemed impossible that they should still make love like this, upright, one pinning the other with the deeply embedded erection sliding only in its own thin syrupy offering, and the clasping inner walls so tight and clinging to the very skin of the organ inside. But they were, because sometimes they just couldn't wait, couldn't be civilized or age-appropriate about getting their hands on each other. Viggo's fingers claimed ownership of Sean, not stopping for respect of conventional modesties. They had no such barriers between them. His armpit or his nostrils or something as plain as he considered his forearm to be was just as sensual as his tackle, if it was Viggo touching. And he was. Sean was shaking slightly from all the touch his lover lavished on him.

The experience tripped Sean out a little. Perception narrowed to just the two of them, and what they were doing to each other. His intellect was never complacent to just mindlessly fuck, even when the two of them were so gone with sex and love they completely lost themselves. Sometimes he regretted just one thing, and one thing only: that they couldn't both be buried within each other's bodies simultaneously.

They appeared together on his mental movie screen, himself from behind, as he had been in his thirties, which he considered at his prime. With his golden self straining in the throes of sex, his long back's subtle muscles rippled as he writhed, round ass rolling and thrusting. For a while, he closed his eyes and reveled in his own personal imagery combined with the sensations of his lover's heat surrounding him, and the feel of Viggo's masculine, willing body moving with him as they strove for the mutual outpouring. Of course he loved Viggo, for all kinds of reasons, but this was always how they expressed it best--with the joining of their bodies.

His attention was distracted by a tongue dragging over tingling nerves, then sharp teeth that pinched tiny nips in a line, then more licking over the abused skin. The man responsible was right in front of him, against him; the internalized pictures changed to ones of Viggo: his angular face with round but fine-lidded blue sky eyes, lit from within like an Eldar, Sean thought sometimes... the smooth slope of a nose...wide brow... pointed-faced in his younger days, almost lantern-jawed now... his beautiful body. Tough and wiry from working on his ranch, it felt like buttered suede against him. "Oy, yer the sweet one, aren't yeh... sweet piece of arse..."

"Salty maybe... bitter," Viggo contradicted. He pronounced the T's hard and dropped the R.

"Yer in love with meh, aren't yeh?" He could feel Viggo's shaft hard and leaking between them, his firm double mass of balls also trapped between.

"You know it, Sean," Viggo shot back. "You're such a man!"

Often they bantered crudely like this, teased each other; it was the kind of thing that Sean could vouch that a lady would be properly insulted by, but that a man would want to say and hear. But it wasn't just any man Sean had wanted, it was this one, his, at first begrudgingly, and later with all the fire that Viggo had reawaken in him. And that was Sean... fire, and earth... so too was Viggo air and water. Not as water to quench fire and earth to stifle the air in ones lungs, but rather, air to fan the flames, and water to make the earth grow. It was amazing how they complimented each other so. He'd never considered that before; he was not religious or mystic, but maybe earthy indeed. And this being Halloween, a pagan holiday, maybe something more ancient was rising up in his blood and bones. The Bean family had roots deep in Britain. Who knew if but some ancestor of his could have been some kind of priest or priestess?

For sure, this felt like heaven, and the rush it gave him made him feel like some kind of a god. He was fucking his chosen mate so hard, that he barely registered that words flowed from him. "Aye, yes, oh yes...Want yah, mate, always want yah..."

"God, Sean... want you, too... just keep doing that..."

"To have and to hold, right?" Damned if that didn't come out of nowhere. If the Brit hadn't already been red in the face from his exertions, he'd have blushed. There was little conventional about two men screwing themselves into oblivion against the wall, outside their bedroom instead of in it, no less.

Viggo gasped out, "You have me! You're having me now!" He groaned loudly when Sean slid his cock deliberately against his sweet spot.

"Aye, and Ah wanna have yah fer the rest of me life." Covering the pink lips now swollen with impending orgasm with his own, he locked eyes with Viggo, making it show in them. He could always say things better that way.

The other man held his stare. Hitching in the same time to Sean's even thrusts, he put a hand between them to palm his own cock. "Please, Sean, touch me... Need to come... Please." He was starting to get a slightly wild look about him, like he'd been caged. "C'mon Sean... finish it!" His back arched off the wall, and he regripped with his legs, hitching upwards again.

Sean peeled the artist's fingers away so he could tighten his own fist around the surging erection. It felt like the surf coming in, under the silky skin. The need to stroke his lover's aroused organ was so strong. He craved it. It was different than his own, with a singular heft and balance and texture; these small dissimilarities fascinated him, other than the fact that it was Viggo he was touching, Viggo's cock. He'd had it in his mouth and in his arse and just like now, in his hand. He'd lost most inhibitions, through they still played their dominance games...

His attention turned from such thoughts to the immediacy of Viggo losing control and emptying his balls all over Sean's hand. The warm wetness spurted his palm and between his fingers on the upstroke, and their stomachs and chests on the down. Crying out hoarsely, Viggo had unlocked his ankles, and, totally relying on Sean to hold him up, had spread his thighs apart so wide his knees nearly touched the wall.

The damp hairs on his chest were stuck to his skin in curls, the tiny erect nipples flushed maroon. The right one looked delicious dripping in a bit of the pearly cream that had splashed up from Viggo's erupting cock. Sean bent his head to suck that nipple, lapping at it inside his mouth.

Helpless moans sang out from both of them. His climax was tightening his balls; it would be upon him in seconds. He pumped into Viggo twice more, three more times, four. The explosion hit him with the rawness that always felt new, as if he didn't know what cumming was going to feel like. He was sixty-six years old, and yet, the idea of the force taking his body over temporarily, of the letting-go of cum from the depths of his testicles, and of it shooting all the way from the root to the slit opening of his erect cock, blasting out and making its obvious musky, sticky mess... was he ever a day over thirteen in that regard, with his own fascination with it? No.

Unable to support himself, much less the other man's weight, Sean sank down onto his knees; Viggo slid down the smooth matte wall along with, straddling the Brit's thighs where they landed. They fell into languid kisses, warm, soft tongues and supple lips. A few tremors of aftershocks chased between them, till they came to where they were: naked and sweaty on the floor of the hallway, Sean's softening cock still in side, but not for long. With a final caress of lips, Viggo found it within himself to smirk, "You forgot something."

"Wha--?"

Crawling slowly off Sean's lap, Viggo rifled his scattered clothes. He held up a black velvet bag at the end of one finger. "This. Remember?"

At that point, Sean was too drugged on after-sex endorphins to smack either of them. "Shite. Well, maybe next time, eh mate?"

Viggo got that look on his face that meant he was about to announce a plan. "Yes. Tomorrow, I think. You mighta bought it, but you're going to wear it. And I'm going to make you scream for mercy."

"Oooo, nice honeymoon," Sean half-laughed, half-huffed. "Hope you know of somewhere secluded."

"It will be, and I do," Viggo told him factually, then grinned over his slip but continued. "I'm going to have to pay you back, you know."

"For what?"

With a small smile, the Dane rose to his feet. Try as he might, Sean could not keep his eyes from the pretty picture of the rosy cock, mostly soft now, swaying before his face, with the matching low-hanging balls behind. Before he could stop himself, he flicked out his tongue and licked the very tip. Sparkly eyes glinted dangerously at him, and he knew this because he made sure to look up as mouth made contact with cock. It was just one of those things that drove his... fiancé... crazy. A bit ago, they'd been too desperate to pace themselves much; the edge taken off, Viggo could and probably would torment him for hours. What he said next confirmed it. "Tonight, I'll wear it. Wanna make it last..."

Sean smiled and licked again. "We will. Even though we're so fookin' old we probably can't do this much longer."

Viggo laughed suddenly, unpredictably, stumbling over to the wall for support while he guffawed. "I know... isn't funny..." he gasped, "Just struck me... old men... always prostate problems... oh fuck, Sean, we've been lucky." As suddenly as he'd started, the laughter switched off. "We'd better start making up for it in advance."

"You worried I won't be able to get it up anymore?"

"That'll be a cold day in hell."

"I dunno... God might just punish us for jumping the gun... Premarital sex and all that."

"Oh, quarter century too late, I'd say! So... I'm gonna make an honest man outta you. Then we'll both be back to the 'saint' side of things instead of 'sinners.'"

Sean had to laugh at the absurdity. "You're fuckin' insane. I think you're going to have to start your own religion."

"Only sociopaths and fundamentalists do that!" Viggo mock-glared at him.

Right. He knew that. "Fine. Just fine with me. I'll settle for 'crazy bastard.'"

"As if anyone who says 'Merry Halloween' has any right to... Pot, kettle, black... kinda thing."

Sean had climbed to his feet in the interim. "Bedroom. Now. And get your ring on, mister. I'm with you... we celebrate a day early."

*****

THE END

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