Fandom: LOTR RPS
Pairing: Sean Bean / Viggo Mortensen
Rating: hard R
Date: August 2003
Summary: Body heat and stories are just part of an unexpected friendship
Disclaimer: Not true: I made it up
Dedication: This is for childeproof with my love
Notes; Thanks to vivi and nienor for the inspirational setting and situation (used with permission). Written for the lotripping Zine.
Viggo and Sean, veterans, just shrug at each other. Murphy's Law; everything breaking down when they were knee deep in freezing water all night, fighting an invisible tentacled monster. Finally, Peter notices that they are shaking, blue with cold. There are no trailers here -- it's the middle of Wellington -- so the carpark attendant's hut is pressed into service
They stay there in the dark, huddled under blankets and towels, trying to get their bodies back to a reasonable temperature. But it's not working, they're still shivering. Eventually, Viggo says, "This sucks, get over here, and let's do the body heat thing," and Sean comes closer.
They're both thin and fit and a little bony, but they huddle together and it feels good. Close. Intimate.
Sean says, "We should think of hot things," and they feel both of their cocks make little jerks through all the clothing.
Sean has a twisted inspiration, "What was the oddest place you ever had sex?"
Viggo answers, "You know Exene was the singer for X, right?" Sean nods -- they're close enough for them to feel each other's every move. "She had a hell of a show, punk turned up to eleven."
Sean says, "Yeah, I never saw them, but I heard about it."
Viggo keeps talking in his mumbly low voice, "One time, I was hanging around backstage in a club, it was really wild, she had the crowd in her hand. She dragged me out and started dancing around me, and the music was making the whole building pulse, and everyone was into it.
"She screamed out did they want sex, and they went crazy, they wanted it so much. She pushed me onto some speakers, pulled down my jeans and fucked my brains out. In front of a hundred and twenty people." By this time, both of them are breathing harder at the scene in their minds.
In the dark, they're moving against each other, thinking about it, and finally, Sean's hand burrows under Viggo's tunic. There's a moment where it might go very wrong, then Viggo breathes out with a low moan.
There are tough hands over tender cocks, learning each other's rhythms, pushing with abandon against each other, as first one, then the other, comes hard.
They stay close, warm now.
Into the friendly silence, Sean asks Viggo "What happened with Exene?"
They both know kids change everything.
"She was always irregular, it might have even been that night, she sure didn't use a diaphragm then. She was on tour, clubs, drinking hard and doing who knows what kind of drugs. When she got home, I made her go to the doctor, and by then she was five months gone. Too late to do anything about it, so we just waited."
Sean shudders, it's every parent's nightmare. His wives had been so careful: no alcohol, no cigarettes, even sushi was off-limits.
Viggo speaks, distantly, lost in memory. "We had four months of absolute hell, wondering what kind of damage we did to the baby." Sean can feel the tension, the body memory of agonizing fear.
Then Viggo says with wonder, "But he was perfect, he still is, we don't know why we got so lucky."
Sean holds him closer, trying to express what he can't find the words for. There's a knock on the door; they have to get back to the set. They blink in the light seeping over from the filming, and have no time to say any more.
They have to shoot the fight scene all over again tonight; the camera angles were wrong yesterday, but the water is still as frigid. This time, though, they are more assertive. When the lighting has problems, Viggo tells Peter they can't stand around and freeze their butts off, call them when he's ready. They go back to their dark little hut.
They move towards each other, colliding a little in the dark. It seems natural to warm each other.
Viggo says "What was your wildest place?"
Sean has to think, but he's enjoying feeling hands on his body, even through the wet Boromir costume, and gets distracted.
"Your turn," Viggo is insistent, pulling back just a little.
Sean's had a fair amount of semi-public sex too. "I had this lover," he starts, and draws Viggo back towards him, touching his back, feeling the muscles there. "She had a kink, needed to be held down and spanked every fucking time."
Viggo is moving faster, hand burrowing inside clothes and touching, oh God, Sean's cock, harder and faster this time.
"Ummm?" Viggo prompts him.
Sean works his way into Viggo's costume, getting lost a little in the sensations.
"It was like a key in a lock, she would do anything after being spanked." Sean finally says. "One time, very late, we were alone in one of those old theatres, with the tarnished silver and red velvet everywhere. Ghosts of great actors. And she let me fuck her there in the middle of the stage."
In the dark, there is only the real, the now, the salty-sweet smell of their bodies, the intensity of hands on cocks.
Sean likes to tease, so he slows down, moving to the balls and the base, leisurely dragging his fingers along Viggo's shaft. He feels Viggo's recognition, his actions mirrored on his own cock.
They draw it out for a while, then Viggo says, "they'll call us soon."
So they speed up again, rough and smooth together. They come, Viggo arching and moaning, which makes Sean overflow with pleasure.
Too quickly, before they have time to sort through things, the assistant comes to call them. They have to go back to the freezing water and the lights and the acting.
Dinner for the cast is waiting at the hotel, they're being pulled to separate tables. But before they move apart, Sean quietly says to Viggo, "Your room."
"Because mine is right next to Peter and Fran's."
Everyone wants to know what Viggo and Sean think is so funny. They won't say, just laugh harder.
After dinner, Sean goes to his room, has a shower, looks at himself in the mirror. His stomach is roiling, his hands are clammy. It's like being a teenager again -- wondering if he's attractive, worried that he won't measure up.
When Sean gets to Viggo's room and is welcomed in, he holds back for a moment, suddenly a bit off-balance. Viggo gives him a beer and Sean turns out the light.
Viggo asks, "Why'd you do that?"
Sean replies "It's just right, this way," and moves over to him, finding Viggo in the dark by his warmth and breathing. They sit on the couch together for a little while, drinking beer.
In the dark, Sean can lean into Viggo. The heat of Viggo's body through the thin shirt is a little startling. "You're warm now," he says, feeling his ears go red in the dark as he realizes he has just stated the blatantly obvious.
Viggo slings an arm around his shoulders, "You're cold, let me help." it does help. Sean hadn't known he was chilled through, until Viggo starts to warm him up. He realizes he's never been quite this close, quite like this, with anyone quite this large. Viggo smells of hotel shampoo with just a shadow of wood smoke. It's... different. It's surprisingly nice.
Sean reaches for Viggo, not knowing exactly where he's going. Flying blind. He runs his finger down Viggo's face to his mouth. He smiles at the little hitch in Viggo's breathing, and then finds himself slightly shocked as he touches Viggo's tongue, which has come out to meet him. Sean pulls them close, and lets his mouth replace the finger. He's never kissed a man like this before. That it's Viggo makes everything different. Somehow, it's just another part of a mad and unexpected friendship.
After a fair amount of mutual exploration, Sean wonders, "Have you ever, er, shagged a bloke?"
"I had a role," Viggo answers slowly, his body tensing next to Sean and his voice going mumbly. "I was... in that play that Ian did first, "Bent". I played a gay Nazi in a concentration camp." He shifts around. "I felt like I had to know what was going on, so I, um, experimented with a friend."
Sean sighs fondly and grumbles, "Bloody Method actor, at least you didn't go to a skinhead rally."
Even in the dark, he can tell that Viggo gives one of his amazing smiles: it's as though the whole room has lit up, or maybe just Sean's chest.
They take off each other's clothes slowly, kissing and licking the newly exposed skin. Sean takes a journey down Viggo's left arm, caressing each muscle with his mouth, teasing the fold inside the elbow. He moves to the hand, which tastes of an arousing combination of beer and sweat and Viggo.
He's never felt the hard planes and strength of a male body this close, and he finds it astonishingly arousing, more because it's Viggo. Viggo holds him still and nuzzles his chest, licks his side in a way that would tickle if he wasn't so aroused. But it's the tongue in his navel that makes him buck helplessly.
Viggo's thumb is in Sean's mouth now, it's big and callused from Aragorn's sword, and feels like nothing he's ever had before. He teases it with his tongue, sucks it down, then lets it stroke his mouth, the inside of his lips, until he is lost in sensation.
Several years later, he surfaces. "This is bloody good," he wishes he could be more articulate.
"Yeah," Viggo answers, slowly, "it feels right."
Sean can't think of any more words, so he ducks his head down, trailing his tongue down Viggo's chest, licking and sucking on the planes of his stomach, drawing groans and tremors.
He feels Viggo's mouth licking up his thighs, then teasing around his aching cock. Sean never expected, he never asked, he didn't even really let himself want this, but jesusfuck, it's wonderful. He tries to say something, to explain it's not necessary, but all that comes out is a strangled groan. He touches Viggo's head tentatively, strokes his hair, just to make that contact. Viggo's tongue is curling around the head of Sean's cock, and lets go for Viggo to say, "yeah."
Sean starts to just relax and let it happen, but that's wrong, unsatisfying. He rolls on his side, curls around, and moves his mouth towards Viggo's cock.
It's hard to concentrate with Viggo's mouth on him, but Sean needs to do this. Viggo's groin is musky, salty, and hot enough to shock him. Sean contents himself with kissing and soft bites inside Viggo's thighs for a while, learning what makes him twitch, arch and moan. If Sean's never given a blowjob before, he's certainly gotten plenty, knows what he likes and wants to make it good.
So maybe it's not perfect: things (like teeth and knees) get in the way, and neither of them can figure out how to avoid gagging. They move in and out of rhythm, taking turns and trying new things. Sean can't say he exactly loves sucking cock, but he loves making Viggo moan like that. And when Viggo's mouth comes around his cock, it feels entirely right, like closing an electric circuit -- but with fireworks, lighting up the darkness inside his eyelids.
"Boromir," Sean startles himself awake when he says it out loud. "Boromir never married, that's what Tolkien said."
Viggo runs his hand over Sean's chest. "Huh?"
"I think he was a poof, and half in love with Aragorn."
"Could be." Viggo continues to stroke him, and it feels lovely.
"I'm not in love with you, any road." It's important for Sean to get that clear, right away.
"Love has many faces," Viggo replies, and Sean smiles at that: he'd expect nothing less from him. Sean reaches for him and pulls him close.
After a few minutes, Viggo says, "Warrior brothers: Greeks, Spartans. Native Americans. That's a good kind of love."
Sean thinks about it. "Even in the first world war, Tolkien's war, there were lovers. I don't think he'd be too upset."
"Go to sleep, compañero." Viggo presses close and Sean lets himself rest.