That Night

Posted: March 31, 2006
Title: That Night
Author: Helena Snow-Renn
Type: RPS
Characters: Sean/Viggo, Viggo/Other (implied)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: As always, this is fiction. It never happened.
Author's Notes: Warning: Get ready for more ups and downs, fast then slow, changing POV's, yes and then no, angst, schmoop, smut... I think this is odds and ends than have been floating around in my mind, written and unwritten, for months, in relation to how VS! could have gone if things had been different... Well, this is it, or part of it. For those of you who were with me before and remember the Reshoots chapters, this is something of "the other version." Thanks for your indulgence while I visit that 'verse again.

*****

It had been one of those days... and nights... and days. Viggo had barely slept, and he was starting to fray around the edges. In the last forty hours he'd been to Rivendell, Edoras, Minas Tirith, and the ruin of Orthanc. Three times he'd been transformed from Ranger to High King and back again. His scalp felt itchy and stifled for air, and that was to say nothing of his male bits. When they'd finally released him to go "home" to his trailer and sleep just under an hour ago, Viggo had barely restrained himself from pulling off his wig and his clothes and walking out of there in the buff.

Sean, on the other hand, was bored. He had only a few scattered scenes, not nearly enough to keep his mind from wandering where it probably shouldn't. David... Daisy, they called him, was no help. Whenever they were in the same general area, he stood a little too near to ignore, and Sean was always catching him in the act of looking away. Cleary, he was just waiting for the older man to forget himself and make a move, but the Brit was torn.

Sure, David was beautiful. Sean knew that firsthand now, very intimately so. But so was Orlando, and Sean had no intention of going there. There were others, too. When Billy was Pippin and especially since hearing Pippin sing, Sean had a small piece of his libido ensnared by underaged Hobbit. If he'd had any predilection for it at this time, he'd have even considered attempting to cure poor Eowyn of her Aragorn-festering. These were only examples. In all reality, he craved Viggo so much that it made him angry... at himself for being that needy, and ultimately at Viggo, who was so preoccupied.

"David told me about what you did that night." The second Viggo arrived through the door, this is what greeted him.

Just as fast, Viggo snapped back at him, "Oh, really now? Well, at least from him, you'd get an accurate picture. Yes, I did... and I refuse to be confronted by you about it. I had not the slightest clue in the world that you were coming... coming back." Despite professing that he would not be shamed by Sean's inquiry, Viggo seemed, in a word, defensive. Even before the door was fully closed, he was rushing through his words. "Yes, we were all a little drunk, and it got a little out of hand..."

"A little?" Sean meant this in an ironic, joking way, but Viggo took him all wrong.

"If you expect me to apologize for blowing five, six guys in one night--"

"—and bending one over the table," Sean inserted.

"...well, you can forget it. If Daisy hadn't have stepped in, God knows what would've happened!" Viggo was well riled up, and his eyes blazed cold fire.

"Of course. Daisy again. Look, I din' mean... I'm not 'accusing' you. Just thought maybe you'd wanna talk about it, now that it's all over."

"Maybe I don't." Viggo's voice was clipped and stubborn.

The Brit shrugged. "Alright. If that's the way you want it, then." He turned away, the set of his shoulders indicating he was upset now, too.

"It isn't!" Viggo barked. "I refuse to spend my time justifying things I did in your very noticeable absence. It's only happenstance that you arrived less than two days later. How was I to know?"

"But... Viggo! I just wanna know what made yeh do tha'..."

"Why? You planning to use it as ammunition?"

"What... ? No!" The blond's expression was, well, rather blond. "I'm curious," he admitted.

Viggo turned away, rolling his eyes. "Goodie for you. Is that 'intellectually curious,' or is it simply your jealousy again?"

Sean opened his mouth, then thought better of it. Viggo was right... well, half right.

"Gotcha." Still in all his costume minus the wig, Viggo looked vaguely threatening. "Come see me when you want to talk rationally."

"But I do now!" protested Sean. "I really just wanna know..."

"Oh, honestly, Sean! You've never had two or more women at once... you've never pissed on anyone... never got caught fucking in public, bonked a cousin or some..."

"Shut up!" Sean looked mortified.

"... had your mum walk in on you while you were wanking... thought maybe the neighbor's goat didn't look all that bad..."

"You are one sick puppy!" blurted Sean.

"Apparently!" snapped Viggo. "But you might try thinking outside the box a little more."

Now Sean had a ready answer. "I have been, and doing, as well, or what do you call," he waved arms around all-encompassingly, "this?"

Viggo recognized the other man's meaning for what it was. 'Box,' synonymous for, 'cunt.'

"Try harder! As much as I love you... as much as I know you know it, if that's not enough for you, then why don't you just say so?" Pronounced muscles jumped and twitched on both sides of Viggo's jaw as he grit his teeth.

"I'll say no much thing," Sean protested, standing to face his lover. This was beginning to feel like they were fighting. By now, he couldn't ever remember what had started it. He carried indistinct feelings of having missed something important, as well as the ongoing but slipping hold over the situation with David in the background, but as for what had set him off...?

Viggo was saying, "Why don't you just be a man about it and tell me to my face that you can't look at me without remembering the things I did... without you? You have nothing to say about it, Sean, and fuck you for thinking you do!"

Sean wanted to argue again, but he realized it would do no good. Viggo was too upset and out of it to listen to him. Not knowing any other sure way to react to what was quickly going to hell in a hand basket, Sean did what was pre-programmed into him as a man as a first reaction to a face-off he didn't need to win for fear of a greater loss. He would proffer himself to Viggo as atonement; but with Viggo, even the state he was in, Sean knew to expect much, much more. After a minute, he said, "Man enough, eh? Well why don't yeh see if you can make a man of me?" He threw off his tee-shirt and went to work on his belt. "Tha's right. I wan' yeh to show meh all over 'gain what it is t'be a man... your man..." he forced a grin, "yeh owly bastard!"

Motionless but for breathing and a rapid swelling against the laces of his breeches, Viggo stared, uncomprehending. First Sean had the balls to attack him the moment he walked in the door, and now he was baring his body, offering it up for Viggo's use? Just like that? Nothing was ever that simple.

About that time, Sean's erection sprang free. Against his better judgment, allowing that he was exhausted and pissed off, Viggo said, "Oh, I'll fuck you alright, if that's what you want... If that'll fix your damage temporarily..." His facial expression told Sean exactly what he thought of such a solution: contempt.

But he'd already alluded to it, and it was true, that his cock took totally different view of that subject. The pale golden buttocks appeared, forty-some years or not, still succulent as a peach. The sight made his eyes water. 'Damn it all!' Viggo swore under his breath. How just like a man, hardwired to react to a nice arse or whatever.

Sean's eyes narrowed evilly. His teeth appeared in a half-smile, half-snarl. The effect of his body on the world at large was nothing new to him. After he'd kicked the last of his clothes aside, he just stood there, almost posed. "So, here I am," he taunted. "Yeh gonna gawk all night, or are yer gonna do somethin' about it?" His gaze flicked toward Viggo's groin.

The thought of fumble-fingering his way through taking his annoyingly complicated costume off while that arrogant fuck stood there gloating was totally unacceptable to Viggo! He made his voice hard. "You want me so damn bad? Take my clothes off." Before Sean could get a word in edgewise, Viggo dropped, "Serve your master, Sean."

The British man blinked once, again, and gave his head a little clearing shake. A small curl of satisfaction warmed Viggo's lower abdomen. When the blond's posture changed subtly and he hissed a small, "yessssssss," the warmth spread outwards. Viggo's lust changed from reactive and visceral to some of the 'more of everything' he usually felt with Sean.

Quickly and quietly, the man was at his side, long slender fingers making haste at his fastenings. He stood mostly still and let Sean do his work, not sure if this was still in the spirit of his command, or if it was more passive-aggressive. His thigh-length over-vest slipped off, then the long tunic. Sean's occasional finger-touches were little brands on his skin. Self-consciously, as if he expected to be stopped, Sean stroked Viggo's furry chest before honing in on the two tightened nubs tipping each pectoral. Each bud was plucked at, pinched, twisted, then the blond head lowered and a soft tongue lashed out to flick wickedly at one.

It was a struggle to stay quiet. Viggo's encased arousal thumped violently against his lacings. Already it was starting to ache. Though more than eager to use it, for he hadn't quite realized until just then how feverish he was for this; the turn-on of Sean's provocation, changing to his willingness to obey, won out. His lover served beautifully, so he would let him serve for now. "Sean... undo my aces... it hurts." Viggo was not afraid to let a little bit of a whine into his voice; he knew what it did to his lover's libido.

Sex flashed in the green eyes; a pink tongue licked top lip, bottom lip... fingers brushed over Viggo's arousal, traced it... a moment later, the pressure and odd angle lessened and fingers slid into his pants. "Want you..." Sean rumbled.

His fingers coiled around the hard shaft; Viggo widened his stance and pushed his hips forward, moaning, "Want you, too...soon."

Sean took the hint and pushed the breeches down, then he himself knelt to pull off Viggo's boots one at a time, while the Dane lifted each foot and steadied himself by leaning against Sean's broad shoulders. His fully extended cock bounced in mid-air, close to Sean's mouth. A glistening droplet of pre-come appeared from his slit; the British man's tongue snaked out and licked it away.

It, that one touch of tongue, nearly made Viggo's knees buckle. Another little whimper escaped him. "Suck me!" Two crude words, and it was done, his exposed cock-head taken to the back of Sean's throat and swallowed. His hands twitched forward, one to scrabble in Sean's fine, soft hair till it found enough to hold on to; the other tracing the contours of Sean's right ear, playing with the narrow point and rubbing the thin-skinned lobe between thumb and curled forefinger.

It was then that he realized Sean's hands cupped the cheeks of his ass just like he liked it, fingers and thumbs splayed around the curves, squeezing. If he hadn't have been so tired, he'd probably have blasted his cream right then and there. Instead, he held out for ten strokes, twenty, thirty, of the tight-lipped suction pulling him deeper under Sean's spell. He didn't want to give in this easily, this fast. Sean was not playing fair. But neither was he... "Oh... close, Sean... so close... stop!"

"Wha--?" Sean questioned, head tilted back and eyes hooded.

Pulling back with his hips, Viggo luckily escaped with no damage from the Brit's teeth. And he'd been very close when it dawned on him how he'd made Sean confess to every single one of his 'indiscretions' before he'd allowed them to be together again. The other men... the woman...his physical nature that made him look for connectedness where he could find it over long months where Viggo prided himself in holding out...

That little notebook Sean had kept had miraculously furnished insight, enlightenment, and finally was able to provide them with the means of satisfying Viggo's deep needs for intense emotional engagement. In the year they'd last been apart, Sean had started to psychoanalyze 'things' as much as Viggo ever had. And that was what his mate needed to know: that he mattered as much to Sean as Sean did to him.

Till less than an hour ago, Sean had never called Viggo on the carpet about the one lover he'd allowed himself in the meantime... and had proceeded to drag into bed with them. Now wasn't that more than a little odd, regardless of the fact that they all had wanted it? However, he'd already heard it from David himself how the Dane hadn't given in without weeks of stand-offishness. And, as per usual, it had been more than simply casual, despite the insistence from both sides that they knew it for what it was--temporary.

Viggo's one night of real "sluttishness" had never come up, either. He'd never wanted it to, had hoped to slide that one thing by. But David had told him...as it should be. "We should...Sean... I need to tell you... you have a right to know."

"Aye, yer damn right Ah do." As if to emphasize 'how much,' Sean slurped him in again.

Viggo cried out, his eyes closed to fend off orgasm, and stumbled back a step. "I mean now!" He meant talking, not sex.

Snorting, the blond only growled and inched forward on his knees. How the hell could the other man stop at such times, he wondered.

Viggo backed up again and promptly tripped over one of his Ranger boots. The instant he had fallen flat on his bare ass, Sean was on him again, relentless, a succubus after his life force. Oh fuck it all... if he couldn't take control of the situation soon, he would give it up, no longer be able to fight. His pushed-apart thighs received Sean's kneading hand-motions. His hips simply would not, could not, stop their shaking and rolling.

As he quickly reached the cataclysm of his release, Viggo looked down his own body, at the patterns and curls of his chest and belly hair, long familiar through his whole adulthood. Lower, his high-minded maleness rose in purple defiance at, well, everything he was supposed to be. There too, saliva-slicked lips that first took the piss out of him and then tried to milk the ...

"No!" Viggo roared. He pushed Sean away at the last second, put a foot on his shoulder and pushed hard, then put both hands before his groin to cover himself. To his astonishment, the green-eyed man slithered toward him again. Viggo rose to kneeling, just in case he needed to defend himself.

"Yeh don't need ta bloody tell meh why y'd like tah suck a cock, Vig... Din' I just prove how damn... enjoyable it is... fer both parties? But, Vig..." The low voice that emerged with its thick dialect was clotted with pure animal sexuality. Sean drew near, so close now that Viggo caught a fresh scent of his musk and could feel his heated breath when he spoke. The man was highly aroused, and it was more than in the physical sense... he must've been thinking on this theme for days.

"You said you like to serve, or at least service... your Master." For that, Viggo got a dip of the scruffy, flaxen head. "Well, when it just doesn't matter all the much anymore, when what's left is the job, drinking, sleeping, sex, and whatever means of escape you can find for yourself, it's rather a rush to serve... many." One wheat-colored brow raised but nothing more. So Viggo demanded, "What say you to that?"

A ghost of a smirk passed over Sean's features. He turned around and presented. "I say... what I said before. I'm still waiting, too. Show me 'gain what it is to be yer man...yer bloke...yer boy. Just yours," he finished in a whisper.

"Over by the bed, then," snapped the darker and lankier man. Good god... Here he was, confronted with THE ASS, spread and tipped up for his inspection. And Sean crawled, eventually kneeling up with his forearms crossed and resting on the edge of the mattress. Viggo got up and rummaged in a cupboard. A bottle of lube landed on the bed next to Sean's wrist. "Prep yourself," Viggo ordered.

This was something Sean did not 'do.' He balked. Although he didn't say no, neither did he make any move to obey. Viggo noticed this immediately, for when Sean wanted to do something, it was almost split-second after the command or suggestion was made that it was done. So he decided to add impetus. "Craig had no trouble. So what's yours?"

The red creeping up Sean's face was not disguised at all by the earlier flush of arousal. He growled, his body tensing. Still, it took him what seemed like forever to reach for the small, clear bottle. His fingers curled around it, his thumb hooked up to flip the cap...Viggo watched every detail, just waiting for Sean's refusal or other outburst. "Nothin'..." the blond grumbled at last, surrendering to his fate. "I reckon if a nancing Elf can do it, I can do it." But he growled again, shaking his head at himself. Viggo had to hide a smile.

Two of the long, eloquent digits coated, Sean reached slowly behind himself, tracing the cleft till he reached the level of his hole. It was necessary for him to spread his knees far apart to access the hidden opening. Both men hissed as it was touched, and a finger curled inside. There was some shifting of Sean's forearm, then the second finger was added.

From his higher vantage point, Viggo could see the stretch of the dusky ring muscle. He could well imagine the tightness of it surrounding him, making him push through. Sean had closed his eyes in what could've been humiliation, pleasure, or perhaps a combination of both. They flashed for a fraction of a second as he opened them to relocate the lube. With a slightly trembling hand, and Viggo noticed this especially because he himself felt rather shaky, Sean arched his back and put his second hand behind himself. Clumsily, he upturned the bottle over his impaled fingers and those not yet inside. Some spilled, the clear fluid running down over the curve of his backside and the insides of his thighs.

The arch of back became more pronounced as Sean began to try to work in his ring finger. Oh, he made quite a picture, Viggo decided. Both hands occupied, Sean was forced to hold himself upright by pressing his chest to the side of the bed. He was starting to sweat; his buttocks flexed and he clenched, then tried to relax enough to wiggle in the third digit. Slippery with lube, it slipped in soundlessly, followed by another low moan and a sinuous grind of Sean's hips. The man's eyelashes fluttered against the side of his face that Viggo could see. Forehead furrowed in concentration, the Brit slowly, begrudgingly, began to move those fingers in and out of himself.

Between the earlier stimulation and the sight before his eyes now, it shouldn't have been a shock to Viggo to find he was hurting. Every throbbing pulse of his erection caused a sweet pain in his lower body. He carefully picked his moment, waiting till Sean was particularly arched, his fingers in deep, to approach the man from behind and drop to his knees between Sean's spread ones.

A startled whuff escaped the Brit when Viggo grasped his wrist and pulled his fingers free. "You're right that I need to tell you about that night," said the Dane in a low voice. "But I'm gonna take you, first. We'll see if you still wanna be my 'boy' when I'm done with you. Answer me this--you think you can make it through and not cum?"

Sean had swallowed hard a couple of times, already. Shaking his head, he asked, "But isn't that the..."

"You cum when I tell you to," Viggo corrected him firmly. "I'd have told you about what happened without all the theatrics... would've been nice. Since you have to have it your way, you'll get it, but in the manner of my choosing." Other than to kneel behind him, Viggo had not yet touched Sean. But he did now, producing a thin leather strap that they'd used before, the previous summer. Before so much as a squeak could find its way out of the Brit's throat, Viggo had wound it twice around the base of Sean's balls and buckled it tightly. "That should do yah." Sean whimpered. "Where'd yah put the lube?"

"Dropped it."

Viggo scanned the area but didn't see it. "Where?"

Another very audible swallow and whimpered words: "It's somewhere down... between me legs... under me bollocks." Another coup. Sean normally did not speak of his own anatomy unless he was complaining or joking. Smirking, Viggo reached down between them. He let the tip of his cock, still wet from Sean's earlier efforts as well as the results of his own body's production of profuse pre-cum, rest along the swell of Sean's left cheek while he reached between the blond's legs from behind, taking the full sac in his hand and giving it a friendly squeeze. "This, Sean?"

"Aye." This was a groan. Viggo wanted to hear many, many more of them before this was over. Abruptly, he pushed his knees wider apart on the floor, forcing Sean's to spread around his. He'd located the bottle when his knuckles brushed against it. Now he released the mass of Sean's balls and slicked his cock. He wasn't going to last long, but this time, that was key. Almost as an afterthought, he also coated his fingers, which were thicker than Sean's; god knew Sean had been timid enough in his preparations. Highly erotic to watch him squirm, but probably not the most effective.

"Give me your ass," Viggo gritted. He really did feel dirty, like he wanted a fast, hard fuck. At the slight hesitation, he slapped the left cheek, and then he simply reached down again and slid his index finger into the oiled passage. It was then he realized he still wore the ring of Barahir. The tiny snake's emerald eyes even reminded him at times of his lover--apt, as Tolkein's Boromir had grey eyes. He stopped before the metal could do any damage to Sean's hole and wiggled in his middle finger. Good, but he knew as soon as he added another Sean was going to feel the stretch. He did so, hearing more lush moans that accelerated his sense of urgency... but Sean would need it. Viggo's cock was twitching and leaking; his balls felt like hot lead from holding back.

Arching his back further, muscles rippling under his skin from neck to waist, Sean thrust his bum backwards onto Viggo's hand. "Fuck me, goddammit!" For another moment, Viggo made him gyrate upon his fingers while he spread him even more. "Oh god...please...Viggo, please... want you in me." The Brit's voice was choked and constrained, even his shoulders pink now between the flush of sex and his level of embarrassment.

It was enough. Viggo removed his fingers, lined up, and pushed himself in, in one long forceful slide. Because the man under him let out the beginning of a wail, quickly cut off, Viggo gave him as much of a moment as he could manage, then he let his instincts take over. His mind went blank; he could think of nothing but the trembling body of the man below, before him that he held fast to while he pounded into the tight passage. "You like that, boy, huh?" He moved his hands around to the front of Sean's body, pressing his face between his shoulder blades, nipping, licking. Bound as he was, Sean could not release, but Viggo never the less fondled the thick, swollen cock and hardened jewels while he got closer and closer, thrust by thrust. Other than penetrating his lover, touching his sex brought Viggo so much pleasure it was amazing he ever succeeded in keeping his hands to himself.

It didn't take long for his orgasm to burst this time. Powerful cramping throbs told him his cum was being set free from his balls, jetted through the inner workings, such intense relief. He pumped his way through it all, fucking Sean hard enough to make him squeak. At the end, clamping his teeth into Sean's shoulder, he let his seed go deep inside, spurt after spurt till he was absolutely drained.

Sean panted hard. He was trembling. "Y'bit me, y'fucker!" But he didn't actually say it till Viggo had removed his grip.

Snorting, the Dane only returned, "You deserved it, and then some." His semen was dripping out of Sean, down the insides of both their legs, in a slick coating over their balls. Though his peak faded quickly, Viggo didn't remove his hands from Sean's body or his slowly softening organ from inside him.

When he could put two thoughts in a bucket, Viggo began to softly ramble about the night in question. "And now," he opened, "...And now, I'll tell you whatever you want to know. But listen to my point of view first, alright? It was my first day back... we had the back room reserved at the Parrot. Besides me, there were six of them. We'd been there a while, maybe it was nearing midnight by then, I'm not real sure. Elijah, Karl, and Craig put their heads together; somewhere along the line they'd figured out they had... something in common with each other. I'd gotten into a very strange place in my head... where I actually wanted them to talk about me like I wasn't even there, to discuss my technique and debate about who got the best... service...in my hearing, of course. Meanwhile, Dom and Billy... BillyDom... were sitting there trading looks. It didn't take much to know what was going on in their filthy little heads."

Sean sniggered. For that, he got pushed bodily against the side of the bed. Viggo had gone entirely soft, but remained inside; Sean struggled to stay relaxed enough to keep him there. In a way, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. But he did want to hear it... and not. He was starting to get the idea that maybe it would have been for the best to let sleeping dogs lie.

Continuing, Viggo said, "One of them, I can't remember who, had the brilliant idea of an encore... and you know, I didn't say 'no' or even protest... I simply didn't care what happened or who saw it."

The more he talked, the more his voice took on a faraway tone, as if recalling something long past, or perhaps another life, the incident in question was but a few weeks past. It seemed to Sean that the man speaking into his hair, directly behind him with familiar calloused fingertips absentmindedly plucking at his nipples, ringing his belly button, was someone other than his lover, some... non-Viggo. "So, I sucked off 'Lij first, 'cause I knew he'd be the easiest, then Karl because he'd require the most effort..."

Sean made an angry noise but was silenced by a sharp yank to his pubes.

"Yes, he's a mouthful and then some, that one. So, next, Billy and Dom were crawling all over themselves about one of them getting a turn... finally Billy shoves Dom in my direction, he whips it out... since he was new to me it took a moment to get it... get the rhythm, you know."

Sean had thought of something. "That's five. Who was the sixth?"

"Ian."

"Urgh!" Sean shuddered. He fought rising nausea.

"Shut up!" Viggo hissed, and slapped his butt again. "It took a little longer with him, but he was most considerate. I swear to god, he knew... knew what I was doing and why. He just petted my hair and let me go at my own pace..." Viggo faded off for a moment, lost in his memory. His hands were warm and tender now upon Sean, caressing his chest and arms with exquisite care. "Oh!" Viggo came back to himself. "Anyway... Billy next, and he was nice about it too but I was starting to be very... abraded inside my mouth... I could taste the copper blood tang along with... everything else. When Craig got in front of me, and I opened my mouth for him, he noticed right away, said he wouldn't let me do it. Offered himself... said I could use him, shyly undid his clothes, took supplies out of his pockets. Like I told you about before, he leaned over the table, giving us all a hell of a show... Shit, Sean! I think maybe he felt guilty or something. Ian had bowed out, nowhere to be seen. The others were gathered around, whooping and hollering. As grateful as I felt once again, it didn't stop me from standing up, shoving Craig's head down so he was belly-down on that table and just... Uh...Uh!" he grunted.

There was a small series of tickles to the insides of Sean's legs and the underside of his sac. Viggo spoke in a huskier tone. "I think I was pretty rough on him... can't really remember for sure. All I was thinking was how I'd done my damnedest to stave off... had given my best oral performances, too," a low, self-incredulous chuckle emerged, a little unhinged-sounding. "Then I was fucking the shit out of one fine piece of ass... and none of it was what I wanted. Somewhere in the middle of that, David showed up...while I was still pounding away on Craig. Do you know how it gets sometimes, when you need to cum so bad, but you just can't?"

"Hello, yeh lunatic," Sean said matter-of-factly. "Uh, yeah."

By the soft brushing of tendrils of longish hair against his shoulder, Sean discerned Viggo was shaking his head. "Not by artificial means. I was trying too hard, maybe, all that "Go, go, go!" chanting around us. But I totally lost it. After a while, I looked down... Craig had closed his eyes and gone still... the Hobbits had shut up, even Karl looked nervous. David talked to Karl, I guess; the two of them pulled me off Craig. Next thing I knew, it was me over the table. Karl was holding me down and David was behind me... and that's how I got what I damn well needed. Physically, anyway. So I could get off. Though I fought like hell."

Sean's balls were steadily being pushed upward. The twin spheres were balanced on a thick, hard shaft of velvet-over-steel flesh. "Oh yeah, Seanie. That's what it took--to get fucked within an inch of my life--before I could cum. When needs be, David can get the job done, you know?" Sean's stomach lurched again. "Karl had his hand on me, too, and Dom had crawled over... he was doing something with his tongue. It took all three of them. And then, when I finally went over, know what came out of my mouth?"

"No!" the blond gasped. He didn't want to hear any more. It was already gut-punching him, how he hadn't been there to see to Viggo's needs, how very close he'd been to never having him back. It wrenched him inside, how he could've been there, making love to Viggo, or at least they could've been enjoying each other on some level, rather than Viggo having indiscriminate sex in the local pub without the slightest idea that he meant to return...

"Seanie..." Viggo crooned. "Seeeaaaaannnn..."

Sean didn't feel anything but compassion now, almost pity. Why would anyone want him that much? Especially now, when he'd proven himself so desperately unworthy? His chest felt tight and his eyes stung. "Jesus, Viggo," he rasped. "I dunno what to say..." his voice caught. "Wish I'd been there, for everyone's sake."

"Well, it's over now," Viggo said unnecessarily. "We all made our choices... we'll live with them."

"Aye." Sean felt strangely subdued, maybe on the verge of tears, if he didn't watch it, for all that he was still hard, congested, blood pounding in his groin. He rested his forehead on his crossed arms and let his emotions well up, all of it: his rampaging fear and jealousy, the deep, deep longing that no one but this man had ever created or fulfilled, and finally the 'pictures' of Viggo and what he had carried alone till now.

Why had he, Sean, ever thought he could just be 'done' by simply walking away and back to his supposedly normal life? It wasn't like he or Viggo were psychologically weak, or that they 'couldn't live without each other' or some insipid emotional claptrap. More or less, he'd run. And kept running. Viggo had dared follow him once, but the man had his pride, too. He'd given fair warning and left the ultimate outcome to Sean. It just freaked him out, how it had been within a hair's breadth of too late that he'd set foot back here.

But of course, he couldn't really say. He was a man for concrete fact, and even love, but this defied him. But he would have to try. Somehow... some time. He'd said it in his book; he needed to say it with his mouth.

Gentle, calloused palms glided over the planes of his stomach, then one came around to his back and the other to his hip to ease him into position, and just as Sean understood what was about to happen and how much he wanted it to, he was breached by a beautifully slick, smooth cockhead, then the rest of the shaft at just the ideal speed and angle. "Feels so good... so damn good," he groaned accepting the full length.

"God, yeah," Viggo rumbled in answer.

They turned the air blue with grunted expletives: "fuck" and "cock" and dirty little compliments about each other's degree of hotness. These were the things that were easy to say while their physical expression of love played out and built to a frenzy.

Their sex was fast and messy, two masculine bodies straining and demanding, always one-upping each other. Viggo had Sean upright, then he shoved him onto all fours and had at him some more. Finally, he undid the strap around the base of his testicles, flipped the blond on his back, and rode him hard to a long-delayed orgasm. As he landed on top of his lover, Viggo put his head down and sealed their mouths together. He let himself go once again, reveling in the sensations of his own spine flexing and coiling, his hips thrusting, butt cheeks flexing and bunching, the slap of their bodies together. When Sean began to cum, signaled by frantic moans and the man's hands clawing him, Viggo aimed for the bump of his prostate and rose up slightly. Sean's cock released milky streams of precious warm fluid between them, all over their bellies and chests, even their faces. Once so anointed, Viggo brought them together again. Adding his hoarse-crying voice, he pumped his lover full of his essence. Sean was beside himself, eyes rolled back in his head and mouth wide to scream his pleasure.

They collapsed, all the tension draining from their spent bodies within seconds. There was again gasping for lost breath, a few aftershocks, but they lay still.

Some time later, Sean finally found words, words he knew he needed to say for both of their sakes. "I never answered you... what yeh asked meh. Just so yeh know, I've never, ever felt the needed to serve 'many,' as you put it. I like my partners one at a time. That's one reason this thing with Dave was such a departure."

Viggo looked at him from under slit eyelids, wondering if this was the end. Just in case, he rolled slowly to the side, and waited. After all they'd done, it seemed anticlimactic.

Sean quickly went on, just to make sure Viggo got his whole message before jumping to the wrong conclusion. "I'll never serve anyone but you...I mean that. I might love others... we might... erm, take on a few. But you're the only person I've ever felt that way about, and I can honestly say nothing will change that... whether we stay together or not."

"I don't think tonight counted," Viggo put in.

"Who's counting?" Sean asked him. "Though yer right. I s'spose I provoked you on purpose." He looked aside, shy almost. "Just needed some attention."

A slow, sexy smile pulled at Viggo's lips. "You spoiled little... and in the midst of this fucking filming marathon. Wonderful sense of timing. Or irony."

"Yeah, yeah..."

"Did you hear what you needed to?" Viggo asked point blank. "About... that...?"

"Yeah, more than I needed to. Something just kept nagging at me... I'm sorry, I should have let it go. Maybe I wondered if it happened once... would it again, and again? Yeh see, I really didn't understand at all about what yeh were on about...but now I do."

Viggo said, "Sean... unless we have an agreement where we want that kind of scene, and actively seek it out, that was an isolated incident. Again, I won't justify what I did... I did it... on some wild whim. As kind of a good bye to the old times. Not spite or revenge. Just simple... lack. Emptiness. Or maybe just temporary insanity. I thought it wouldn't matter, in the end but well, it did, eh?"

"It's not so bad...Kinda like your pervy side, y'know," Sean said, surprising the hell out of his mate.

"Thought I'd never see you again, never have you again. Hell, I even though that again, two minutes ago."

"But you do...have me," the blond man reminded him.

"Now I do." Viggo leaned over and took his mouth, tongue no longer demanding, only giving. They held each other safe, limbs and tongues curling together for mutual comfort.

Sean had to get in the last word. "You always will."

"Big words, Sean."

And then they knew things were back to normal, as normal as they ever got considering the parties involved. "I'll show you something big...Vig."

"Tig!"

"Nooooooo!" Sean moaned.

"That's not what you said earlier. 'If that nancing Elf can do it...'"

"Quiet, you!"

"Make me."

So Sean found something useful for Viggo to occupy his mouth with that did not require talking. The two of them were rather amazed at themselves that they could even stay awake long enough to finish, but finish they did.

Though Viggo's monologue was not quite enough to put Sean's mind to rest entirely, he came to the understanding that his lover had simply done in one day what he'd done over the course of three years or so. Viggo had challenged him on sight. Sean had waited, stewing about second-hand reports till it boiled his blood. He always had to learn the hard way, didn't he?

It was a long while before the skittishness and insecurity of his tenuous hold on his British lover left Viggo. While he understood it had taken Sean that long just to come to grips with himself as 'not entirely straight,' as he continued to put it, there was always that worry that he'd turn around and find Sean gone again, maybe for good.

At the end of the shoot, Viggo went home to LA, Sean to London. Before either of them left, though, Sean witnessed for himself the ceremonial tribal dance to honor the "king." He'd stayed out of range of the cameras. The Maoris and a few other stunties who'd learned the ritual chanted and stomped, their regard so awesome to behold. A couple of tears escaped the Dane's light, dancing eyes, whereas Sean found himself barely able to stand, bawling like a baby, though quietly. The other men Viggo had taken on that night were all there too, and it finally dawned on him how very much people loved and respected his chosen man. For that night, he also caught sight of that man, not as his lover, his Master, his costar, or even Aragorn. Just Viggo. God, he loved him...

For a while things were quiet. Viggo, in fact, was sure of his fate, and began to finally start thinking about taking steps to cutting ties to the past, for it was, in fact, finished. Rings was over.

It was the on the first of September that Sean stepped off the plane, onto American soil.

This time, he intended to stay.

*****

THE END

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Helena Snow-Renn

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