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brainofckTitle: Fresh
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
muck_a_luck, posting in brainofck
Pairing: SB/VM
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Straight Sean and crooked Viggo. What more is there to say?
Content/warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Slash is fiction. So while we may all be demented, slash is basically the author's ownporno script, populated by the individuals she feels would be ideal to fill the various roles if she ruled the universe if she were ever fortunate enough have the opportunity to bring her vision to the screen. *snortle*
Archive rights: Absolutely none. My journals only.muck_a_luck and brainofck
Note: Written for that prompt thing. This is forladybluelove, who requested Losing HIs Cherry with SB/VM.
"Now what?" he asked, licking his lips hesitantly. His heart was racing under Viggo's palm.
"Depends. You gonna have a cardiovascular event before you even get naked?"
"Fuck you," a muttered response.
"Yeah, yeah. We'll get to that eventually. That's not what you came here for."
Sean was speechless so long, eyes so wild and heartbeat not calming, that Viggo started to have second thoughts.
"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," Viggo murmured, not without regret. He sat up fully, taking his hands off that vibrating body. A cherry was a sweet thing, but he couldn't, wouldn't do this if Sean was this afraid.
"You can't bail on me, Vig. I'll never get up the nerve to do this again."
"Sean, you don't want this. You're terrified."
"No. No, I'm not. Not really. Just nervous, is all." Breathy. Trembling. Not at all certain.
"Okay," said Viggo thoughtfully. "Do you trust me?"
"I'm working on it." A small snort of laughter.
"Close your eyes."
Eyelids fluttered shut. Viggo started at the feet and worked his way up. Shoes had been abandoned at the front door. Now Viggo tugged off socks, then, face to face with slender, elegant feet, pressed passionate, wet kisses to the arches of each foot, tracing calluses with his tongue. He ran his fingers up under the hem of Sean's jeans, feeling the boniness of ankle and the firmness of calf.
He stood and looked down at Sean. His eyes were shut. His lips were parted. He was breathing fast, his cheeks flushed. Viggo reached down and touched his lips, then traced his fingers down over jaw and neck to collar bone and shoulder, following the line of the open collar, tangling his fingers with buttons and popping them open one after the other, laying bare a smooth, beautiful, muscled chest.
He placed a kiss in the middle of Sean's chest. In the hollow of his neck. On a nipple. In the soft under part of his arm. He pushed the shirt back as far as it would go, then licked his way down ribs to hip and across hip to belly. Sean nearly stopped breathing as Viggo's fingers found snap and zipper.
"Lift up," Viggo encouraged him. Then jeans and underwear were stripped away and Viggo could nip and lick and kiss other flesh.
Viggo contemplated sucking him first, but suddenly there was a hand in his hair, tugging his head up, drawing his attention back to Sean's face.
"Get on with it, Vig, or I'm going to lose what's left of my nerve."
Viggo looked at him hard.
"I don't get you, Bean. But if you want to be fucked this bad, then by all means, let's get on with it."
Without further comment or attempt at seduction, he caught Sean behind the knees and folded his legs back. He braced Sean's legs with his shoulders, fumbled for the little bottle under the sofa, slicked up his fingers, and got the first one in as quickly as he could manage.
Sean was impossibly tight, and impossibly tense. Viggo pushed and stretched, carefully, trying to get Sean to give in to the sensation, the stimulation, to lose himself in the moment.
But Sean didn't. He stayed skittish and nervous, even when Viggo tried kissing his deflated cock. But every time Viggo looked up to ask if Sean was ready to call it quits, Viggo saw steely determination there. So, if Sean wanted Viggo to stop, Viggo decided to let Sean ask for it.
More lube. Two fingers. More lube. Three. Four. A condom rolled on and then Viggo settled himself in place, Sean's hips raised, his legs over Viggo's shoulders.
"Last chance to call it off," Viggo finally felt he had to say.
Sean gave him a tight shake of the head. Viggo pushed.
Viggo was good. He coaxed Sean with a slick hand, found the perfect angle and fucked him slow and long and perfect, pounding him at just the right time, pumping him til he finally came with a gasp that sounded almost like protest. Viggo's own orgasm was sharp and hard edged. The smell of sex and latex was bitter.
When they were done the affection of their surprise make-out session earlier in the evening, full of gentle caresses and long lingering kisses was gone. Sean sat up without speaking, pulling himself together efficiently. Viggo withdrew to a chair by the sofa, and waited for something. Anything.
"Thanks, mate," Sean finally said. It sounded perfunctory. But then he finally lifted his eyes to Viggo's and said it again. "Thanks for that. For not telling me no."
Viggo nodded.
Sean pulled on his socks and padded out to the front door. Slipped on his shoes and left.
Viggo thought about fresh meat and soft fruit and damp feet in dirty socks.
He shrugged and went to wash off the bitter scent of sex in the cold pond behind his house.
Author:
muck_a_luck, posting in brainofckPairing: SB/VM
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Straight Sean and crooked Viggo. What more is there to say?
Content/warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Slash is fiction. So while we may all be demented, slash is basically the author's own
Archive rights: Absolutely none. My journals only.
muck_a_luck and brainofckNote: Written for that prompt thing. This is for
ladybluelove, who requested Losing HIs Cherry with SB/VM."Now what?" he asked, licking his lips hesitantly. His heart was racing under Viggo's palm.
"Depends. You gonna have a cardiovascular event before you even get naked?"
"Fuck you," a muttered response.
"Yeah, yeah. We'll get to that eventually. That's not what you came here for."
Sean was speechless so long, eyes so wild and heartbeat not calming, that Viggo started to have second thoughts.
"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," Viggo murmured, not without regret. He sat up fully, taking his hands off that vibrating body. A cherry was a sweet thing, but he couldn't, wouldn't do this if Sean was this afraid.
"You can't bail on me, Vig. I'll never get up the nerve to do this again."
"Sean, you don't want this. You're terrified."
"No. No, I'm not. Not really. Just nervous, is all." Breathy. Trembling. Not at all certain.
"Okay," said Viggo thoughtfully. "Do you trust me?"
"I'm working on it." A small snort of laughter.
"Close your eyes."
Eyelids fluttered shut. Viggo started at the feet and worked his way up. Shoes had been abandoned at the front door. Now Viggo tugged off socks, then, face to face with slender, elegant feet, pressed passionate, wet kisses to the arches of each foot, tracing calluses with his tongue. He ran his fingers up under the hem of Sean's jeans, feeling the boniness of ankle and the firmness of calf.
He stood and looked down at Sean. His eyes were shut. His lips were parted. He was breathing fast, his cheeks flushed. Viggo reached down and touched his lips, then traced his fingers down over jaw and neck to collar bone and shoulder, following the line of the open collar, tangling his fingers with buttons and popping them open one after the other, laying bare a smooth, beautiful, muscled chest.
He placed a kiss in the middle of Sean's chest. In the hollow of his neck. On a nipple. In the soft under part of his arm. He pushed the shirt back as far as it would go, then licked his way down ribs to hip and across hip to belly. Sean nearly stopped breathing as Viggo's fingers found snap and zipper.
"Lift up," Viggo encouraged him. Then jeans and underwear were stripped away and Viggo could nip and lick and kiss other flesh.
Viggo contemplated sucking him first, but suddenly there was a hand in his hair, tugging his head up, drawing his attention back to Sean's face.
"Get on with it, Vig, or I'm going to lose what's left of my nerve."
Viggo looked at him hard.
"I don't get you, Bean. But if you want to be fucked this bad, then by all means, let's get on with it."
Without further comment or attempt at seduction, he caught Sean behind the knees and folded his legs back. He braced Sean's legs with his shoulders, fumbled for the little bottle under the sofa, slicked up his fingers, and got the first one in as quickly as he could manage.
Sean was impossibly tight, and impossibly tense. Viggo pushed and stretched, carefully, trying to get Sean to give in to the sensation, the stimulation, to lose himself in the moment.
But Sean didn't. He stayed skittish and nervous, even when Viggo tried kissing his deflated cock. But every time Viggo looked up to ask if Sean was ready to call it quits, Viggo saw steely determination there. So, if Sean wanted Viggo to stop, Viggo decided to let Sean ask for it.
More lube. Two fingers. More lube. Three. Four. A condom rolled on and then Viggo settled himself in place, Sean's hips raised, his legs over Viggo's shoulders.
"Last chance to call it off," Viggo finally felt he had to say.
Sean gave him a tight shake of the head. Viggo pushed.
Viggo was good. He coaxed Sean with a slick hand, found the perfect angle and fucked him slow and long and perfect, pounding him at just the right time, pumping him til he finally came with a gasp that sounded almost like protest. Viggo's own orgasm was sharp and hard edged. The smell of sex and latex was bitter.
When they were done the affection of their surprise make-out session earlier in the evening, full of gentle caresses and long lingering kisses was gone. Sean sat up without speaking, pulling himself together efficiently. Viggo withdrew to a chair by the sofa, and waited for something. Anything.
"Thanks, mate," Sean finally said. It sounded perfunctory. But then he finally lifted his eyes to Viggo's and said it again. "Thanks for that. For not telling me no."
Viggo nodded.
Sean pulled on his socks and padded out to the front door. Slipped on his shoes and left.
Viggo thought about fresh meat and soft fruit and damp feet in dirty socks.
He shrugged and went to wash off the bitter scent of sex in the cold pond behind his house.
