It's been a whole day now: a day of Sean being away on a promotional gig in NYC, a day of Sean not being here. Viggo lies in their bed on Sean's side, breathing him in, and remembers last night, before Sean left.
He remembers asking to be given something to keep with him all the days Sean would be gone, and he knows his voice had been smoky and husky: because he had known what he was asking for--the only thing he ever asked for--but he hadn't known whether Sean would give it to him, because Sean's not into that, Sean's too gentle for that, and Viggo never knows how to ask...
But then Sean had pushed him against the wall in their kitchen and kissed him hard, lips and tongue and teeth, and low, growling noises in his throat that said Yes, yes, everything--anything--and Viggo would've laughed with happiness in the kiss if he hadn't been so damn hard already.
"Where?" Sean had gasped, drawing wet hot marks of need over Viggo's neck, Viggo's chest, with his teeth, his fingers. "How?" And Viggo had almost cried, had took Sean's wrist in his hand and stumbled over to the living room.
He'd fumbled to open his jeans, shoving them down--no time to undo the laces of his boots and take them off--then he'd bent over the arm of the couch, taking Sean down with him, kissing him hard and breathing in his mouth, "Hand--cane--now." He'd barely managed to let him go.
At last Sean had come back, and he'd finally heard the blessed swish of the cane and then the blinding, white heat across his skin: he'd arched off the couch, crying, then Sean's hand had soothed him, until he'd nodded; the next two strokes had been quick, easier because he'd quieted down, going soft, silently weeping in the cushions and pleading for more, for Sean's hand to spread the fire of the stripes. He'd arched back into every slap, Sean's large, elegant, strong hand hitting him squarely across his seat and all over, until Sean had pulled him up and shoved his cock into Viggo's mouth, and Viggo had felt tears rolling down his heated face, had swallowed him whole and grasped Sean's hands tight when Sean had come. He'd felt thankful, mad, wild--he'd felt a swift, sharp happiness rolling in to nestle inside his chest, and he had held Sean tight, not letting him move for a long time.
Later Sean had unlaced his boots for him, taken off his jeans and taken Viggo to bed: he'd massaged salve into his bruises even though Viggo hadn't wanted it, had only wanted Sean, Sean's skin under his hands--and he'd taken his time until Viggo had squirmed, growing hard again.
Sean had kissed his reddened skin, his eyes going dark when he'd made Viggo kneel, when he'd reached back to lube himself up and guided Viggo in, fucking himself on Viggo's cock because it would hurt Viggo to move too much, and he'd laughed when Viggo had finally come, a strangled, happy laugh that had ended in a sudden gasp, a breathless moan when Viggo had let himself fall down on Sean's back, still inside, making them both shiver.
They slept like that, sticky and half-dressed. Viggo vaguely remembers the alarm going off at some ungodly hour in the early morning, the mattress dipping beside him, emptiness and cold before warm sheets had been tucked up to his chin, and a warm kiss on his forehead, just over his eyelid; the faint noise of the shower going off, and then more sleepy kisses in the dark, the familiar scent of Sean's aftershave lulling him back to sleep, soft words whispered in his hair, in the curve of his neck.
I love you, Viggo remembers hearing, the words curling warm and tender against his half-open lips, as easy as breathing. And then, Be back soon. Don't wake up.
Not sleeping now, Viggo thinks tonight, and rubs his face into Sean's pillow, wriggling to better feel the soreness in his behind as he goes through the list of things to do for the next day, yawning, enjoying Sean's heat on his skin, Sean's warmth reaching all the way inside him.
"Not sleeping yet," he murmurs into the cordless phone tucked under his chin. "But I'm dreaming of you."
The deep chuckle filtering into his ear from across the country feels like kisses closing his eyes, hands keeping him close, soothing his hurts even when he doesn't want it, doesn't know he needs it.
"Freak," Sean murmurs from far away; he murmurs right into Viggo's ear, warm and soft and as if about to fall asleep; and Viggo smiles.
Summary: Viggo asks for something.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 787 Read: 925
Published: 01 Aug 2009 Updated: 01 Aug 2009
Story Notes:
Kink