Stay II

Stay II

Posted: August 2005
Title: Stay II
Sequel To: Stay
Author: Helena Snow-Renn and rotpunkt
Type: RPS
Characters: Viggo Mortensen/Sean Bean
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: As always, this is fiction. It never happened.
Warnings: BDSM
Beta: Ourselves
Summary: Can they survive what they feel, and can they switch?
Author's Notes: Helena and rotpunkt wax philosophical. We have explored the VigBean dynamic at length, and this is our take on what it would be like, warts and all. This story will show you all manner of things in the ways of sex, love, domination/submission and there might be a little schmoop, too. Buckle up, it's a bumpy ride.

*****

After the first time Sean gave in enough to ask Viggo to stay, repeating verbatim the other man's words though he was, the silent struggle passed back and forth between them minute by minute. Any little admission, any little chink in the armor had to be carefully strategized. As weeks passed, Viggo began to realize how much of his subconscious he spent on this. Their lives, to those around them, seemed simple and humble enough. They didn't know how his thoughts forever turned to Sean, of the man down on his knees professing his love in words and then more. That was the pinnacle of 'them.' A Sean on his knees was his Sean on a pedestal. Raise the golden sex god higher than himself he did, but the method to such madness was by putting him under.

There was no end to the amount of resistance Sean could and did show for 'under.' He'd glare, and show his teeth, and then he'd fight, physically fight, if Viggo overstepped himself in his demands. Viggo always overstepped himself. Every grudging acquiesce turned him on more than the last. Each time, for a kiss, or for Sean to strip or wank before him, or prepare himself, all those things that the blond seemed to feel inexplicable shame over, these were the things Viggo asked of him. Watching Sean struggle with himself, this almost outranked the triumph of his demands being, if not exactly obeyed, then at least nodded at.

Viggo had figured out long ago that he would never fall in love with someone who already loved him and wanted him from the start, who surrendered without a fight. There were too many that admired him blindly; he could have that far too easily, especially now.

There are people who cannot appreciate anything that doesn't cost an enormous amount of money. Viggo was never that stupid. But in some way, his concept of love was similar.

If the other one wasn't a tough nut to crack, Viggo always lost interest. The other person had to fight him or Viggo could not respect him. Fact was, anyone Viggo loved and desired at the same time always was someone whose resistance he had to conquer, someone he had to fight and defeat.

Sean did the job a little too well...Behind closed doors, he made Viggo suffer and bleed, crave and starve, weep and crawl...

That was - as is typical when you can't get something - why the "unobtainable sex god" rose higher and higher... and that was what made Sean's "fall" - down at Viggo's feet - so a much more exciting prospect...

And that was the reason why the love was always mixed with hate. Even now, traces of hate and the lust for revenge still added a certain spice to his feelings for Sean, reminiscent of the way pepper intensifies the taste of strawberries.

Sometimes, he wanted to beat Sean almost as much as to fuck Sean.

And sometimes he wondered if he ever could humiliate Sean at all. Try as he might, even when Sean blushed like a schoolboy or averted his eyes, the humiliation was all for his sake. Maybe it was so simple a thing as Sean's personal charisma that kept his dignity in every position so easily. His physical beauty gave him an aura of untouchable superiority no matter what he did or let Viggo do to him. With sweat or cum or blood running down him, he was still the most beautiful man Viggo had ever known. And that made him crazy.

But deep inside, Viggo knew it was more than Sean's grace and inherent nobility in every move what kept him so high above... it was Sean's strength to hold back what Viggo wanted most...

He didn't want to break Sean. But he liked to think that he could. Oh, Sean would break, to an extent. But he always felt Sean's will standing up against his, even when the man knelt before him. He would take his beating or his fucking or whatever. Sometimes he'd scream. Or tears would stream down his face. But his submission was halfway. Sean always, in every second, surrendered by free will, he never was completely at Viggo's mercy, not in those deepest sections of his soul he shielded...

It was like two wolves struggling for rank: as soon as one of them offered his throat to the other the fight was over, and the dominant wolf would never bite his defeated opponent, he always spared him. The surrendering wolf could rely on that.

But the stronger one could kill him. And Viggo would never do that, not even in the way of domination.

~~~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~~~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~~~

It hurt Viggo to do it, in a way, because for the most part he was a gentle, easy-going guy who solved his conflicts in peaceable ways. Normally, he didn't raise his voice. Any anger, he poured into eloquent words to convince.

On the other hand, he had his inner Mr. Hyde, too. No one had ever brought it out to such a degree. Still, Sean's needs usually took precedence over his own, and it was those unsaid requirements that brought his dark side to the fore.

For example, nothing pissed Sean off so fast as being told flatly, resolutely, "No." Or have it screamed at him. These days, the fact of the matter was that Sean was rich. He spent a large part of what he didn't pay in taxes on himself. He was drop-dead sexy, he knew it, and he worked it—worked it good. However well-deserved and worked for, he was famous now; that in itself gave him a certain amount of power, and more so, prestige. If he wanted a piece of Viggo, then be damned if he was going to be told 'no.' So Viggo usually did. Because then, the blond would be so pissy about it, his mind mentally ripping index cards full of curses and threats into tiny little shreds, that Viggo could tell him to do just about anything, and if the blond thought he could see any sort of light at the end of the tunnel of his own making, he'd grit his teeth and do it.

Naked. And on his knees.

But still proud. Far too proud for Viggo's taste.

~ ~~ ~ ~~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~~~ ~ ~~ ~

For Viggo, wanking was as natural as breathing. While he didn't indulge in it in the company of others as a rule, to him it was a function designed to clear out bodily poisons and toxins. It was healthy. Sean, he was pretty sure, did it a lot more often than he did, despite his supposed aversion to it. From the religious training he'd been subjected to, the other 'thou shalt nots' added to it from home, and stoic northern British stiff upper lip sensibilities, he became Viggo's in a sense, totally shocked by the idea of sharing *that* with another. So Viggo made him.

They had a ring set in the wall, chest height. Handy, because Sean had to be forced to his knees as Viggo bound his wrists overhead. And then, Viggo took off his clothes and showed the Brit, over the course of nearly an hour, what it was to love oneself. At first, Sean balked and stubbornly refused to look. But his curiosity got the best of him. Viggo stood over him, legs apart, feet carefully braced. For a while, he played gently with himself, exploring the intricacies of his cock as it hardened; he let Sean see the twitching and swelling right before his eyes. Soft skin moved over the stiffening shaft. Each little fold and wrinkle smoothed as he became fully erect. Foreskin was slowly outgrown; purpling head emerged, slit-first. Viggo ran just the tips of his fingers over himself. There was no immediate need to enclose in fist and stroke. Oh, no. He planned to torture Sean with the sight of him burning those green eyes, till, bound and helpless, he'd beg to be allowed the same privilege.

It took the small, half-swallowed moans being allowed volume for Sean to look the first time. Viggo was still mostly soft then. The air around them was fine-tuned and shielded for their interaction, allowing Sean to hear the nearly soundless rasp of well-worn calluses on poreless cockskin. Little fires licked low in Viggo's belly, much in the same non-pattern as Sean's lip-licking, which he hastily stopped when Viggo caught him at it. Lower down, another reaction was going on that the blond tried but failed to control. In every other way, Sean remained neutral, distant.

Moving away from his firm erection, the Dane slid his hands here and there, touching his own body lingeringly. Quick darts of the downcast green eyes let him know closely he has been observed.

Though it was much too soon, images of himself coming on Sean filtered into Viggo's mind. There was much more spunk in his fantasies than his body could really produce. With luck, maybe a tablespoon to baptize his lover... Sometimes it felt like gallons. When Viggo reached over to pet Sean's soft, fair hair, the man jerked like he'd been hit with an electric shock. Maybe, Viggo thought, he really should hit him. But first things first. Viggo touched Sean's hair, combed his fingers though the strands. Sean was so tense, he didn't really notice when Viggo moved so his private parts were as close to Sean's face as could be without touching. He knew, from the flaring of the blond's nostrils, how his scent was getting up his nose. Just as he intended.

"Good Sean... Good boy," Viggo crooned softly. Again, the kneeling man moved his head away. "C'mon, boy... watch me. Want you to put that tongue of yours to use, now."

The second Sean's startled eyes flicked up to him, Viggo painted the pink lips with the tip of himself, dry at first, but with his first fisting strokes, drops of seminal fluid welled up from him. "Taste me," Viggo whispered. Before the blond head could move from left to right and back, Viggo's left hand clenched in the fine hair.

"You want me to beg," Sean stated. Viggo yanked his head back and stared down at him, nostrils flared and jaw clenched.

"This time, I want more than begging..." his eyes glittered, and Sean at once knew what he meant...

He wanted a confession.

But he wouldn't get it.

Viggo didn't know the true reason why Sean wouldn't confess. Didn't know it wasn't because Sean feared to fall in love or couldn't admit he loved Viggo to himself; it was because he was afraid of Viggo's reaction to the words, as if Viggo, as soon as he has spoken the words, would drop his mask and leave Sean, once he had gotten all he wanted. And Viggo had done that before - believed he was in love but lost interest as soon as he knew the other was his.

Sean felt the danger. He wouldn't give up his last defence, needed it to keep the delicate balance of power, once he had surrendered his body to Viggo... He had come to a few conclusions intuitively: it was the seducing Viggo was interested in - not the physical seducing, that was important to separate--it was the process of leading someone into submission... Sean grasped this by instinct, but also from what Viggo told him of his relationship-history, though Viggo never mentioned that destructive mechanism; it was probably unconscious to him.

So, if he surrendered - completely - would it be over...?

~ ~~ ~ ~~~ ~ ~~ ~

He'd been standing there with his cock in Sean's face for several minutes now, distractedly touching himself. It is not till he felt a tongue that he paid attention again. He had given an order, hadn't he? "...Took you long enough," he said to cover his lapse. Underneath his hand, Sean's tongue plied the wrinkled skin of his balls—short, firm, seeking strokes meant to ply the testes within their sac. Sean himself is extra-sensitive there; Viggo less-so, but it still added to the stimulation. "Swallow them," he directed.

And oh, what a power-rush was that, to see Sean kneeling at his feet, those black-ringed emerald wolf-eyes staring up at him while his mouth stretched wide to accommodate Viggo's swollen sac. His tongue caressed the bottom, where the skin was thinnest, and then he really did suck it. Letting his legs slide further apart, flexing his calves, Viggo stroked himself wantonly, letting his cock tap Sean on the forehead or along the side of his cheek. Sticky drops of precum fell on the fair skin and ran down like oddly placed tears.

Pressure was building; even Sean's pursed lips could not keep the upward crawl in check forever. Waiting till the very last second, Viggo growled, "Let go," and yanked Sean's head back so he could watch every splash of his juice across the blond's face. Sean's lips curled and he shuddered in abject disgust; once again, the darker man was sure, for show. Either way, what it did was get him another milky white stripe.

~~ ~ ~~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~~~ ~ ~~

"Kiss my hand," Viggo ordered. He wanted to watch the man kiss the hand that had beaten him in so many different ways. Not hard. Viggo didn't beat him for the sake of pain. He had just wanted to see the welts on his back when he fucked him, or the toothmarks of ownership bruised into him, or that rebellious but carefully-guarded glare.

Sean took his hand, reluctantly, looking up into Viggo's eyes for a brief moment. Still the same old defiance, and yet again the resolve to obey. Each time, it was a conscious decision.

As soon as his lips touched Viggo's hand, the power shifted, and Sean knew it. Viggo couldn't help himself or hide his reaction, and it was almost shaming what a mere lick of Sean's tongue did to him. The shiver of excitement made his hand tremble... the hand that was supposed to be the calm hand of the master trembling in weakness... He knew that if he tried to speak out an order, his voice would have sounded shaky as well.

Sean dipped his tongue in between his fingers, licked up each one, sucked on them. He turned Viggo's hand and pressed his open wet mouth on the palm, sucking hot.

"Get up," Viggo managed, before his knees nearly went to pudding.

"Put your wrists together in front of you." Of course Sean knew to what this would lead, and Viggo knew how much he hated to be restrained. He felt the urge to force him one step further... this would never end until Sean finally gave in completely...

Now, Sean stretched out his arms, allowing Viggo to hook him into place. Another heavy iron ring, strategically placed on the ceiling, anchored to the oak cross-beam. It could hold Sean's weight easily. Viggo stalked around and around him, waiting, staring at him, up and down the lines and curves of his body. Still, even in such a vulnerable position, up on only his toes, Sean was unrepentant. He didn't mind Viggo's scrutiny any longer. It was all part of his arsenal. He smirked faintly; the man knew the power of his allure.

Viggo stepped close to kiss Sean and Sean opened up obediently, trying to press his body against him, looking for as much contact as possible: Viggo allowed it, knowing that would only add to Sean's desperation and need later, because he was not able to reach his climax. Viggo soon broke the kiss and left him without the chance to avail any friction.

Admiring his back, Viggo walked around him ...and remembered how Sean's beautiful backside hindered him from passing the window...All a monochromatic light glowing tan, so nice, but nicer yet to create designs on. He'd thought about it earlier—what Sean's back and arse looked like, all covered with pink belt- or whip-welts. As well as aesthetic value, they served too to keep his lover a jump away from leaving him. This, he senses; he pushes that line. The danger of rejection versus the flesh-greed for Sean. It was not too difficult to make up his mind. The other man was his choice of medium.

He had the medium, now he needed the correct tool. Between crops and regular leather belts, he preferred belts, black, especially the smooth, dress variety. It looked so good, contrasting against Sean's pale skin, and the formality of them clashed perversely with his ad hoc sessions. He kept his in the top drawer of his dresser; when Sean realized he was heading in that direction he let out a long, low hiss. Not turning, Viggo retrieved his instrument of choice and uncoiled it, running his hand over the smooth, cool surface of the inch-wide leather. Without any preamble, he approached Sean, holding the belt in his right hand, ready to swing. It aroused him, just as it always did, to see the bound man try to control his fear and apprehension...

He was still walking as he swung the first time. There was the deafening whoosh of leather cutting the charged air, the loud slap as it hit flesh. Midway up Sean's back, a strip of skin turned a quick, astonished white, then dark pink, and remained. Before there was time for Sean to lash out with his mouth, Viggo lashed him again, across the swell of his buttocks. The blond gritted his teeth, the jaw muscle visible to Viggo doing a little in-out dance. His ass muscles worked in the same manner, now decorated as they were with a hot brand of belt-kissed burn. With every hit, Sean's body attempted escape. Futile, it was; the arching and jerking only made his balance more tenuous. The bunched calf muscles could only hold him so long, they both knew.

The act of swinging satisfied the Dane, a lot like sinking into the tight, hidden passage and thrusting did. Again and again, he brought the belt down in cracking smacks. Sean's muscles were quivering now, sweat beading and dripping down his spine. X-es and crosses and parallel red marks covered him from shoulder blade level all the way down to his thighs. Each strike brought a curse, each louder than the last. If he hadn't needed to fuck Sean so damn bad, Viggo could almost have cum just from looking at him and knowing this was his handiwork. He drew his arm back a final time. With all his strength, he whipped the sweat-slicked leather down.

"Fuck you!" Sean screamed. "Fuck you, Viggo!"

"Wrong," came the mocking answer. "Fuck you." Viggo meant this in a very different way, indeed; he dropped the belt mindlessly to the floor as he calculated his next conquest of the body and soul trapped for his pleasure.

~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~~~ ~ ~~~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~

He covered himself with lube, lined up, and slowly, smoothly breached Sean. As soon as he started to fuck him, it became even harder for Sean to keep his balance under Viggo's thrusts, but he tried with all possible effort to lessen the aching stretch in his arms when his full weight hung on them.

His body, shaking and flinching involuntarily from the strain, increased his muscles' clenching stimulation to Viggo's cock... The cruelty of the thought that it was Sean's pain and strain was what transformed to pleasure for him, adding to his excitement.

"Say it... you're not cumming till I hear you say it." Viggo was adamant, and he was being overly rough... just couldn't stop himself.

"Why should I give you anythin'?" Sean panted. His biceps tensed momentarily as he tried again to pull away. "And then what, huh? You get what you want... and then what?"

By then, Viggo couldn't answer. How could he? For even one as articulate as he, he was just a man after all, one who was frantically pumping his way to orgasm. It was ungainly, trying to fuck the slippery, sweat-sheened golden body standing up to his threat; Sean's limbs trembled as he tried to keep his balance under the attack.
"It's always what you do, isn't it? Squeeze everything out of your lover and then throw him away...?" Sean's shout was half a gasp, the remaining air for words so limited... he needed oxygen for his tiring muscles... he trembled with furious rage as well as from Viggo's thrusts, but even that, for Viggo's cock, just increased the lust.
"You don't even want someone's love..." There was pain, and more than physical hurt audible. "You want... surrender..." Sean could hardly push out the words, Viggo's fucking so knocked the breath out of him.
"I... I hate you!" Sean cried out with his last writhing of revolt.
Somehow this turned Viggo on even more.
Bolts of guilty pleasure roared through Viggo. His own legs shook, his balls contracted; he shouted wordlessly, emptying himself in triumph of possessing the other man. He came, squirted and squirted deep inside and oh-god-there-was-still-more, more, and still more...

Sean simply hung on.

He shoots! He scores! Such was all that Viggo's brain would give him in that moment, crude commentary, when it should have meant more than that, somehow. Sean is nothing but an ass to fuck now. At the same time, paradoxically, his pleasure is multiplied by the certainty that it's Sean's ass he fucks, that it is Sean under him: unique, above all, forever number one.

"I love you, Sean... I love you."

Viggo always said it when he came; he needed to say it, no matter how hard the sex was or how much he'd had to work to get Sean under him...

To feel Sean respond to the words was almost worth as much as to hear a confession.

Sean never answered with words, but his body responded even after his passionate declaration of hate. The whole expanse of fair skin trembled from a soft shuddering sigh and impulsively, involuntarily, the Brit pushed back, his body searching for Viggo as if wanting to take even more.

Viggo smiled to himself.

Sean's body always betrayed him... while Sean shouted out his defiance, his cock would swell and leak. As it had been even before Viggo had tied him to the wall, his untouched cock bobbed between his thighs. Pounding heartbeats thundered through his whole body, a mixture of arousal and loathing. He too, needed to cum. From experience, he knew that he would be forced to ask for the privilege. Tight and heavy with unreleased seed, his bollocks felt like hot lead. His back burned like fire, worse than before as salty sweat ran over the welts. And Viggo was plastered to him, buried to the hilt, leaving him full of semen that would leak down his thighs till he was let free to clean himself, if he ever was. Sometimes he was left sullied like that for hours.

When it was over, Viggo backed off; he turned to drink in his lover. The sight practically killed him. Sean hung there like the sacrificial lamb. Too tired to try to hold himself up any longer, his arms were stretched with his full weight, the wrists white, the hands bloodless. His feet touched the floor, but Viggo had to wonder if Sean even knew it; his knees were slack and there was no muscle tone in his legs. The man's sides heaved. The arches of his ribs were accentuated with his arms bound overhead as they were. Below, his belly curved concave, down, leading to his groin, where his cock was stone-hard and an angry, strangled-looking purplish-red.

Inside, Viggo quailed. How did he dare leave his lover in this state? His heart cried, 'Mercy!' He had visions of tenderly cutting Sean down, carrying him, ministering to him, but he was frozen there with a cold, calculating look on his face. He got himself to the bathroom, sauntering away. It took everything his had to give the lie to his true distress in that casual swagger. There, he turned on the fan and the water to cover any sounds. Near-silent sobs wracked him till he was dry-heaving, there on the cold tile floor. Conflict, too deep to express or deal with it, overcame him. So close... he felt he'd been so close to breaking Sean, but now there he was, the broken one. It would have been too easy to throw himself at Sean's feet and confess all those things he himself wanted to hear...

It took some minutes for Viggo to get back into his own head space. A few more for him to work on standing. He stared at the stranger who looked like him in the glass above the sink, that man who was so terrified of losing his high-status partner that he resisted change, growth, that he would rather beat the other man than tell him how he wanted him, loved him. Well, whatever else Sean was, Viggo realized this, he was just a human, too. Unless this was how Sean wanted things, it wasn't fair to keep him hanging, literally, or figuratively, like that.

he could see it in retrospect. Sean´s words came back to him - 'that is what you do to your partners, take everything and then throw them away...'
Broken... Viggo's spirit was broken.

He decided that he would go out there and throw himself upon the other man's mercy. If they had only one last night and were no longer a part of each other in the morning, then so be it. He knew he'd never love again if that was the case. For the first time, he'd felt the devastation of his crying out his love at the same time as Sean's screamed that he hated him. They'd gone as far down that road as they could, as far as Viggo could bear. Sean had read into him all too well. If his hatred came from fear of abandonment, then... what did that say of what he truly felt, underneath it all? Truth was, he didn't know. He had to. Or they will stay like this, keeping each other at bay. Like Viggo and Sean.

~ ~~ ~~~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~~~ ~~ ~

When Viggo returned from the bathroom, Sean glared balefully at him. There was something a little mournful underneath it, too. Without a word, Viggo went to him and pulled the slipknot he'd used to bind the Brit. Sean's arms fell limply and he wobbled on his feet, giving Viggo a curious look for helping him stay upright. "Let me help you," Viggo said, draping Sean's limp arm over his shoulder. And then, to his own surprise, "Let me heal you."

Sean opened and closed his mouth a couple times, while Viggo waited for the inevitable 'Aragorn' comment that never outed. At last, the blond head tipped down once, sharply, in acquiescence. Viggo half-led, half-carried the other man to the edge of the bed, got him sat down, and then, he got down on his knees. Right there, to the side of Sean's elegant feet, he knelt, and reached for the hand that he'd kept so often from reaching out to him. Aware of but not deterred by Sean's little noises and gestures of surprise and protest, he sandwiched the long fingers between his own momentarily. Then, lacing their fingers together, he leaned forward and kissed the back of Sean's palm, each knuckle, and the wrist. He was careful not to smudge the skin with saliva; his lips brushed just a whisper of his regard and bone-wrenching affection onto salty skin.

"What're yeh doin', yeh daft bugger?" Sean rasped, sounding more like himself.

"Sssh..." Not able to speak yet, Viggo continued. He'd have bowed to the floor and washed Sean's feet with his tears if he wasn't so hype-aware of what that might seem like.

Sean's free hand alighted on his shoulder, simply resting there. Viggo continued, more slowly. Warm palm and digits slid down over his shoulder blade, finding his spine in the middle of his back and lower, only as far as to where his cleft began. Fingertips tickled through the light dusting of hair there.

Carefully, meditatively, Viggo repeated and paraphrased words spoken at different times by both of them. "I love you... but you hate me. You're angry that you think I'd leave you... but why? You said 'you don't want a person's love...'" he took a shuddering breath. "What is this, Sean? What are we? We live in the same house, by our own designs. We do normal things outside that house. Inside, it's always been one struggle after another... because we like it that way. Can't have it any other way."

Sean just stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and pain.

"...So maybe it's time I cut you loose," Viggo went on. "Rather that than see you hopelessly damaged by this... by what we do. By what I do to you." Sean was moving his head slowly from side to side. "It's probably for the better. If I woke tomorrow up beside you and didn't want you anymore because of anything I'd said, well, that's about the worst thing I can imagine."

"You wouldn't want me?" Sean asked, disgruntled. "What could you possibly say, out of your own mouth, to make yerself not want me? Either you do or you don't."

Viggo's answer, a sigh, was so deep it was a groan. He kissed the tops of Sean's thighs, letting warm breath fan out over his legs. Oh, there was interest at that. The organ that had gone soft rose so fast that Viggo was eye to eye with it in seconds. He snorted, and leaned forward just enough to kiss the reddened tip, then run his tongue around the little collar of foreskin.

"Fuck!" Sean blurted. As always, the long, broad vowels put something a-quiver low down in Viggo's groin.

"I do... want you," Viggo tried to explain. "I wanted you before you ever let me touch you... wanted you're the first time, more than I can say... every time.... And now. " He stopped, and nuzzled down into Sean's crotch, breathing in deeply to memorize the scent, imprinting it on his brain for the rest of his life. "And that wanting of you was always like that of something out of reach. I... I always seem to love someone more if I can't have them..." He looked up into Sean's face, even in the process rubbing his cheek against the golden-downed legs.

The Brit's eyebrows were hooked in an interesting question. "But... that don't sound like love...that's just vain lusting after somethin'. Obsession." He closed his eyes as if in pain. "Maybe yer right and I should go." And then a deep breath. "Fer what its worth, and maybe yeh never intended it, I never felt so well taken care of as when yeh made me do things you know I'm gonna throw a fit over. All me life, I've had to take the lead, with me wives and girlfriends. But you know... they always would start to grow a set after a while, and I din' like that. You," he smirked, "were born with your set." They laughed quietly for a moment. "but if I can't tell you that I like wotcher doin' and that I'm in love with you..." Sean's voice crawled upwards and stuck in his throat, "Well, fuck it, I just did, din' I? ... and that sometimes I want to quit fightin' and jes' luv you for a little while...."

"Then why did you say you hate me...?"

Because... y'know... You want me to confess, I always knew that, but my instinct told me I shouldn't... You say you appreciate more what yeh can't have... so was that the only reason you chose me...? Why would you think that? Why would I waste my time playing at sex and violence with someone I really hated? No. Life's all too short for that. And love? Yer asking me to confess is a threat to leave me at the same time."

Viggo thought about it, stunned. He never saw the toxic machinery of that part of his psyche so clearly before. The look on his face must have convinced Sean he had discovered the truth, just as he had feared, and he snorted sadly.

"So now you're offering to let me leave you before you dump me," Sean said bitterly. "To 'protect me.' That's fucking bullshit, Viggo... Well guess what? One day you'll wake up and realize that you had everything of meh, right there in yer hands, and there's nothing left in this world you could want."

Sean spoke quietly. Viggo bowed his head again, kissing Sean's hands, and now it was not only his tongue that moistened Sean's hands, Viggo's tears dropped down on them.

"God, Sean... I'll never leave you... could never stop wanting you. You're right to doubt me. When I told you of my last relationships, thoughtlessly telling you that I spend more time "chasing" after lovers than afterwards together with them, I didn't realize what that would mean to you... that you'd draw the conclusion I'm only interested in the process, and would leave soon after it's completed. I've done that before... I know... to seduce someone physically is not much of a challenge; I can have that far too easily... So I hunted them down to the core, even if I was not in love, myself...

"But I will not leave you. I've been so sure about it that I never thought I should promise it to you - it's so much a fact to me, and it's no use to swear upon what is fact. But I'll give you my word, if you need it. I won't leave you, not ever, and if you leave, I'll never love again.

"Please, Sean... stay."

Sean smiled at him. For the first time, he said it freely, openly, deliberately - without shyness, without fear:

"I love you."

If Viggo thought his heart had been thudding in his chest before, when he was on the brink of spilling out all his ineffectual words, it was nothing compared to the adrenalized staccato it was doing now. How could a confession of love scare him so goddamn badly? But it did. There was no going back, it seemed. He'd gone around the bend long ago, and more recently, over Sean, but this was new ground. He wanted the man more than ever, terrified as he was that it was the beginning of the end they'd just initiated. He was aware of how much he craved that body under him, lying flat and open to him.

Sean, looking at the raging thoughts and emotions playing across Viggo's face, either anticipated, or simply spoke his own need. "You want it? Yer still gonna have to take it." The man kneeling so docilely at his feet launched himself violently so the force of his movement dragged Sean crossways up the bed and onto his back. He roughly shoved his knee between Sean's and pried his legs apart. "See?" the blond gritted. "I'll never make it easy on yeh... 'S not natural for me... but yeh make me do unnatural things." He shoved against Viggo's chest. And then he showed his teeth. "See?" and he held up his hand, showing his mate a rather necessary item.

As fast as would even be possible, Viggo coated his cock with lube handed to him by a grinning Sean. The man's ass was still slick with oil from last time and Viggo's own cum. With a snort, the Dane wondered if Sean's idea of fighting him at this moment was more to the effect of how fast he could get that dick buried in him. Certainly Viggo had no qualms... "Uh... Oh my god, Sean... love our ass... love fucking you..." His mind went blank. Sean's eyes were closed, his head tossing back and forth on the sheet. His hand gripped the bedding to anchor himself, his knees raised and spread to allow Viggo to take him more forcefully yet.

It was then that Viggo remembered that his lover had not yet cum. After a bare dozen thrusts, Sean arched upwards sharply and spurted all over their fronts. Rarely did he make noise unless commanded to; this time his climax was announced by numerous little moan-gasps. Viggo lay fully on top of him as he writhed into completion. "Ooooooo... Oooooh..." The green eyes were rolled back, his words a broguish slur. "You wan' tie me up and beat meh... do it any time Yeh wan', if Yeh think yer man enough."

The macho challenge tightened Viggo's balls. As Sean's climax faded, he grasped Viggo by the back of the neck, brought his head down, and latched on to his neck hard, in a forceful bite. Viggo growled. His cock thumped inside the contracting hole. Pulling back, he plunged his tongue between the other man's pink lips and curled it around the soft, slick little creature in Sean's mouth, as if to shut him up. But after a short bout of answering licks, Sean tore his mouth away, top lip curling into a thin arch.

Studying his oversensitive bottom, Viggo slowed his pace to the point he was barely moving. For twenty minutes of mind-spinning passion, he gently fucked and kissed the one he loved so much, finally telling him in whispers the things he'd always wanted to say to another, but never could. "I love your body... love your heart... never want to be without you again... " And Sean just looked up him, then away, into his eyes, then away, through it all: through the dregs of his orgasm, past the point where he could barely stand to be touched, much less have a large prick stretching him wide; then, to new arousal and the waiting for the slow but sure resurgence of blood within his cock where it was trapped between their bellies. Viggo's finely-cut lips bowed and sneered and smiled into positions reminiscent of the slow, deliberate writhing of his body.

"Oh god!" Sean cried out. He was hardening again; between them, a growing erection insinuated itself.

Judging Sean sufficiently recovered from the last round, Viggo stepped his stokes. For a while, they moved together. Seeing Sean loving him that way, giving over to his most deeply buried urges proved to him that the surrender was completely whole-hearted.

They locked in, reading every thought. Sean finally spoke. His erection throbbed. It needed attention. Yes, he'd had sex, he'd gotten fucked and got off, but... "Viggo, mate?"

"Mmmmm?" He was so relaxed and euphoric, he could've cum at any minute, or he could've gone on languidly moving within his lover for hours.

"I wanna fuck yeh."

"You are, dummy!"

"Yer fuckin' me."

Viggo tensed. The blond caught him quickly within the double iron circles of his arms and legs. "Oh, yes. Jus' so yeh understand my point of view, see? You know it is... no matter how good it feels, there's jus' something' a little unnatural about it, isn't there?" He wiggled far enough to dislodge Viggo's cock from his arse and let go with the one hand long enough to snag the lube, and roll them over. "You bastard!" Viggo spat. He didn't mean it, but sounded very defensive all of a sudden.

"Nope," Sean smirked. "But good guess." His knees landed around Viggo's hips. "Gonna have to trust you not to knee me in the jewels," he said softly, a dangerous look on his face. "I'm gonna show yeh what it is to surrender. You think you've given over yer heart and mind? Maybe you have..."

"For what it's worth, I have."

"I know, baby..." Sean spoke that to Viggo, and then he dropped back into whatever character he'd just been working on. "... But to know why it is I let you use me, beat me, order me around the way yeh do, you need to experience part of it, at least once... once in a while."

"But...!" Viggo squirmed around, but could move no farther than Sean would let him. "That's not how things are with us..."

"I won't hit you. But I am gonna fuck you. Fight me, if it makes you feel better. It always works for me," he added with an unreadable expression.

Just as Sean could've fought free in most cases, so could've Viggo. He resisted; he held himself stiff and closed his eyes against the invasion. A slick finger breeched him, then two. Then stillness, while he adjusted. He was amazed, because often he didn't show the kind of consideration he was being shown at that moment. As he slowly relaxed, the digits moved and curled within him. Stars flared to light before Viggo's yes, surrounding Sean's face as his lids snapped open.

"Good, yeah?" Sean asked. "Yeh never get yer sweet spot played with, poor sod. No wonder you got such frustrations."

Viggo's jaw dropped once, a little more, and for several reasons. Here a third finger joined the other burrowing two, and then there was that burning stretch. He couldn't believe, though he should have, now he was responding just to the fingers, and then they curled. His cock began to leak onto his belly. He knew what he wanted. And, just as importantly, what Sean wanted from him when 'forced' into giving in.

"Dammit, Sean, fuck me," he whispered.

"Wha'?"

Viggo swallowed. "As much as I love it when you do it, and I love you for it, I can't fight it like you can. I want you... now."

Shaking his head, Sean replied. "Jesus, yer easy."

"Does that bore you?"

"I 'magine it does, you, but... no." He rolled Viggo over and slapped him on the ass.

"It's always, 'turn over, Sean,' 'on yer knees, Sean,' 'bend over, Sean.' This time I wanna see your face. I wanna look into yer dirty blue eyes a while, and then let's just see if you can walk away."

He coated himself and slid in. Viggo's throat loosened in a loud moan, almost like a bawl. "Oh shite... oh fook..." Sean's accent thickened to where Viggo could hardly understand him as he struggled to be still for a moment. "Yeh wan' meh, luv?"

The Dane couldn't answer in words. He looked back, arching his long back, pushing back with his ass, sensual languishment incarnate.

"C'mon, yeh stubborn git!" Sean changed angles. "You ready, then?" he asked in response to the darkly tanned man's slow undulations. The fire of his libido nearly burned through his control already, but the body below him, which had been the proverbial gasoline on that fire, also provided his distraction. Sean placed his fingers in Viggo's backbone, and from there, skimmed the whole backside. Hands working in tandem, Sean rubbed at pliant but manly-feeling skin. Viggo's shoulders were not as broad as his, but strong, with little multi-patterned jumping muscles that rippled understatedly under his hands. It was when he passed his palms over the small of the back that Viggo began to visibly shake. Looking down at where his painfully hard cock stretching the entrance between spread, tight ass cheeks, Sean flicked his eyes back to the other man's blue ones in wordless acknowledgement of what the sight and feel was doing to him. Viggo gave a small dip of his head in return.

Sean gathered himself. He needed to thrust. His arse, thighs, and front pelvic muscles were all screaming at him to be allowed to move. He drew back slowly, eyes never leaving Viggo's, and then pushed in at the same pace. "Uuuunnngh!" they groaned.

"Spread yer legs more for meh, luv," Sean said urgently. "And I want yah to keep lookin' at me, as long as you can." Viggo complied, tilting his ass up as he did so. His lower lip caught in his teeth; his eyes still beaded on Sean, but looked at him through his lashes. Sean tucked that image away for future reference. Right now... "Oh, Christ, Viggo... need to fuck yeh... need to so much..."

"Then do it... Can't you tell I'm ready?" Viggo growled.

"Jes' wanted t'be sure..." Sean breathed. His large hands slid up over the tops of Viggo's hipbones and gripped him hard. And then, he burrowed. And he plundered. And he wrenched himself in and out of Viggo with a strength born out of often-pent-up anticipation. He let himself go, and moved however his arousal demanded—fast and hard, aimed at mutual screaming release. Part of his earlier explorations had been with the intent of finding Viggo's sweet spot. He knew now what angle to use, but kept away from it at first. This time he wanted the other man to be violently needy before he gave in to that particular pleasure.

Well, he was that, already. Viggo couldn't hold up his head any longer, as much as watching Sean fuck him drove him mad with sheer erotica of it. He lowered down to his elbows and dropped his forehead to his arms. At that moment, Sean re-aimed his thrusts a little more to the front. The shock of it, the unexpended mind-blanking pleasure of it, drew a series of surprised yelps from Viggo over the next few demanding plunges.

"That's right, baby," Sean said, somewhere above him. "You can yell for me... let me hear it."

Then there was no more restraint at all. Sean's inherent male need to rut and wallow overcame him, and that's what he did. His thrusts became short jabs as he almost crouched over his lover, knees wide apart between Viggo's thighs and his beautiful torso bent over so he could rub the front of himself fully upon the hot, shivering shin of his lover. It felt so goddamn good to be inside, for the length of his cock to be feeling the velvety grip of Viggo's hole.

Incoherent sounds came from both of them, his more grunting, and Viggo's, definitely howls, which made him push all the harder against the other mans' pleasure gland. He added a swivel to his thrusts... his movements were becoming more random as his orgasm neared. Now his only goal was to keep it in check till he got Viggo off.

"I'm so close," he panted. "Can you cum yet?"

"Could've... cum... long time ago..." Viggo managed. He too changed his movements from simply answering the thrusts to grinding backwards, an obscenely naughty motion that nearly made Sean lose it right there.

"Bloody hell, Viggo... yer the sexiest fucking thing... ever... ever seen." Sean had to close his eyes for a moment. By laying his full weight on the Dane's back, he actually managed to slow himself a bit. With his erection how going in and out, pointed more then before toward the front wall of Viggo's belly, the prostate-milking became even more pronounced, as did Viggo's yowls.

"Cum!" Sean demanded. Before, he'd determined that he'd drive Viggo to his climax with only the power of his fucking. But in a sudden change of mind, that was no longer enough. "Cum!" he repeated, reaching under the man below him and grasping the leaking, twitching organ between his legs. It was almost too late... Sean had stroked up and down that throbbing length no more than three or four times when Viggo shot all over his hand. Sean's mind nearly exploded with the impact of those warm, wet jets filling his palm and running down between his fingers.

And then, his orgasm hit him hard. He kept thrusting till the end, each push and pull matching a long spurt of his release. It was crazy, how they were both shouting disconnected works, all about loving and cumming, now and forever, various body part and 'so damn fucking good' while it happened. Why could a man be so beautifully expressive with his body when words became comical and remedially coarse? But he could think no more as the rhythmic clenching pulses inside Viggo's arse continued to massage him, extremely oversensitive as he was.

Sean collapsed and pulled them both down to the side. They lay there, sides heaving, just catching their breaths but hyper-aware of each other's bodies, this new way of things between them.

"Had yeh scared there, for a minute...?" Sean finally asked.

"'S hard to go under," Viggo tried to explain. "You were so... powerfully... strong.. back there. Didn't know wither you were gonna try and break me... maybe somehow try to punish... I dunno. Not like I'd have let you, if it got out of control How you can take being tied up..." he sighed. "God, Sean... you're so... fucking... incredible."

"Yer preaching' to the choir," Sean said, and then, "Likewise."

Viggo turned over and searched the emerald-dark eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

"Well, ok then." It was enough. They'd confessed it all, earlier. They'd survived a bit of a role reversal, one suited to both their needs. Still, he had to pop off a sarcastic, "I suppose you want me to be your bottom bitch more often, then?"

Sean sniffed. "Yer more of a bitch when yer not on the bottom."

Viggo's eyebrows, light as they were, were definitely up. "Is that so?"

With a laugh, Sean kissed him. "Aye. Wouldn't change that, either."

"Well, I suppose there's always room for improvement..." He fell into freely given kisses; their hands roved tenderly over tired bodies.

"Improvement..." Sean echoed a long while later, Viggo's last words still in mind. "We can always try again, yeah..." and that wicked light that was never far from the surface turned on again.

Viggo laughed at him. "You're insatiable! Come talk to me about that in a couple days!" He reached over and slapped Sean on the ass, and grabbed him for good measure.

Making his eyes big and innocent, Sean said, "Well, what are we s'posed t'do till then?"

Viggo gave him a look. "Whatever we always do. This is life. We can't spend every second of the day, fucking."

"Aaaaawwwww!" And they laughed together again.

After a pause, Sean became serious. "We're still gonna do like we did before, right?"

"Do you have to ask?"

The blond paused again. There was the man he was more familiar with, cool and dangerous and ready to string him up without a moment's hesitation.

"I guess not."

"Good." Viggo dropped the demeanor. "We're mates, Sean, to your way of meaning that, and mine.

"Friends," Sean said slowly, trying out the word, "And... like on nature programs, eh?" He giggled.

"Just like that, with a few twists, I guess."

"And kinks, aye?"

"Aye." Viggo smiled. With a little practice, it wouldn't be long before he'd be able to sound just like Sean, at his command. The idea of them both running their mouths in thick Yorkshire in the heat of sex was making him hard. Again.

Of course Sean noticed. "Watcha thinkin' 'bout?" he asked cagily.

"Yer gonna give meh dialect lessons," Viggo told him. Mm-hm. Not too bad already.

"Izzat wot yeh call it?" Sean snorted.

"Aye... and Sean?"

"Hm?" That superior, alpha smirk was back, too. Viggo knew just what to do about it.

"Get the handcuffs."

*****

THE END

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