![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Arena: Chapter 15: Water and Oil, Reprise
Title/Chapter: Water and Oil, Reprise
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
muck_a_luck, posting in brainofck
Pairing: SB/VM (other pairings in later chapters)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Viggo is somewhere else, where everyone and no one is the same
Content/warnings: AU. Violence.
Spoilers: 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: www.rugbytackling.com, Green Opals, if they're interested, and my journalsmuck_a_luck and brainofck
Further Disclaimer: Any resemblance to Ancient Rome mostly incidental. I have never seen any gladiator flick. Ever. Honest. Not even stinky Gladiator that stole FOTR's Oscar. *glares*
Blame:uisgich, for encouraging me
Arena
Water and Oil
Flesh and Iron
Night Terrors
First
Opening
Closing
Last
The Mysteries of the Next Life, Part I
The Mysteries of the Next Life, Part II
Initiate
Blood Wash
Sword Practice, Part I
Sword Practice, Part II
"Come on," said Viggo, "it's time to quit. You're arm's tired and you're breathing like a bellows!"
Sean just laughed and came after him again. "I've got plenty in me yet," Sean retorted. "You're just scared I'm going to show you up in front of your new followers!" He said tipping his head to the men still watching their bout.
"Sean! I'm not kidding! You should quit before you hurt yourself," Viggo said, sidestepping Sean's tired lunge easily.
"Make me," Sean taunted back and came after him yet again.
"Fine," laughed Viggo, and with a practiced twist and pull sent Sean's blade flying to clatter against the fence. Then he tripped him for good measure as his momentum carried him by. Viggo could never have managed a stunt like that in their days fighting together, but Sean was nearly two years out of practice.
Which didn't mean he fought any less dirty than he ever did. Feeling himself going down, Sean played an old trick of his own, tangling his legs with Viggo's and bringing his friend down with him. Then they were rolling in the dirt of the paddock, wrestling and grappling. Viggo wasn't sure how he found himself on top, pinning Sean face down under him, an arm bent forcefully behind his back.
"Do you yield?" murmured Viggo in Sean's ear. A curt nod was his reply. When Viggo released Sean's arm, his friend turned and twisted under him, so that they were face to face. Sean grinned up at him.
"So, now what?" Sean asked. And for a moment Viggo thought he saw the grin falter and something else in the deep green of Sean's eyes. Viggo shoved himself to his feet and held out a hand to Sean.
"Bath," said Viggo. "Then food."
Then to both their surprise, the ring around them erupted into cheers and clapping, hooting and stomping. Almost by reflex, Viggo faced their spectators and saluted them, as he would the crowd at the arena. At his side, Sean did the same, but almost mockingly, and Viggo recognized the twisted smile that Sean had sometimes worn when he drove home the killing blow in a particularly bitter duel. Viggo let Sean lead him back up to the house. Sean ignored the various praises and well-wishes that were offered by the men, and Viggo respected his friend's silence, nodding here and smiling there, but quickly leaving the crowd behind.
Sean closed the door to the bath chamber softly behind them, as Viggo took it all in.
"This is incredible," he said. A huge pool, set into the floor. Testing the water with his bare toe, Viggo gave a blissful sigh. "Perfect!"
"Well, what do you expect, in a place like this?" Sean replied. Viggo looked at him carefully, but his face and his voice were neutral. Sean was peeling out of his dusty, sweaty clothes. Viggo had already shed boots, shirt and vest and quickly kicked off his pants.
He picked up one of the jars on the edge of the pool. "Scraper?" he asked. But when he opened the lid of the jar, it wasn't oil. It was something creamy and fragrant.
Sean laughed at him. Though again, Viggo wasn't sure that it was quite the right laugh. "We're not in the barracks now, Vig. That's your long-lost soap you're holding there." Viggo looked at him in disbelief.
"Soap?" He stuck a finger into the paste. Definitely a soft soap. And considering how much he'd missed that little part of civilization, strangely disappointing.
Sean had always been able to read him like an open page.
"Unless you'd rather have oil," Sean said. Viggo didn't know how to answer. Sean just grinned and walked around the pool to a shelf set into the back wall.
"There's no reason we can't have both," he said, as he poured oil from a stone jar into a bowl. He brought bowl and scraper back around the pool, and handed them to Viggo.
"I have to say, I agree with you about soap," Sean went on, "But I've missed this."
Viggo dipped his fingers in the oil and walked around behind his friend. He ran his hand down over Sean's spine, planning to work outwards in smooth efficient strokes, as he had learned to do from Sean, all those years ago.
"So many people touch me now," Sean murmured, rolling his shoulders under Viggo's hands, "but none of them have fingers like yours." Sean sighed a little and rolled his shoulders again. Then Sean turned around so suddenly, Viggo nearly dropped the bowl in surprise. There was something in the look on Sean's face that Viggo didn't understand.
"But don't do it that way. Do it the way you did that first time. That day, when you were so afraid, but you still wanted me. You wanted me, and you touched me, and you knew me, and you knew my name. Before you started pretending that you didn't."
Viggo felt his face go hot. Tears were coming shockingly fast, too. He could feel the sting of them, feel them closing his throat. He fought them back.
He knew what the look on Sean's face was now. The heat in his eyes. Sean was angry. Sean had figured him out. Maybe had known all this time, and here was Viggo, wanting oil instead of soap. But what Sean was thinking - it wasn't true.
"That's not why I'm here," said Viggo. He was amazed that he kept all but the slightest tremor out of his voice.
"Of course it's not," Sean replied. "If I had thought it was why you were here, I would have killed you as soon as you freed me this morning, and fallen on the bloody sword."
Sean took a step forward, crowding Viggo, but not quite touching him. Viggo had the bath at his back. There wasn't anywhere for him to go. Then Sean took the bowl from Viggo's hands and set it by the edge of the water. Viggo just stared at him, then blinked and shook his head.
"Since I can see you're not up to finishing what you started," Sean said, flashing him a little smile, "I think we should have a proper bath with soap instead." Sean slipped into the bath from the other side and ducked under the water.
The sudden shift of mood from anger to playful confused Viggo even more. But he felt it was a choice between continuing on with the bath or leaving. If there was any hope of salvaging the day, he would rather stay than go. So he let himself down to the floor and stepped into the deep pool.
The water was gloriously hot, and the pool was deep and wide enough to paddle a few strokes. Viggo swam to the other side, then set his knees on the bottom so that he was chest deep in the water. As he rubbed the water out of his eyes, Sean suddenly moved up behind him, too close again. Viggo's instinct was again to move away, and again it was the pool that had him trapped. He tried to twist around, when something cool and squishy plopped down on his head. Startled, Viggo reached out and caught the edge of the bath with his hands.
"You should shut your eyes," Sean warned. Sean was working his fingers through the damp strands of Viggo's hair, working in the soap, pressing long, strong fingers into his scalp, and his forehead. It felt amazing. Viggo couldn't stop himself from relaxing into Sean's hands, despite his friend's unsettling behavior.
"Rinse it out of your hair, then I'll do your back," Sean suggested. Viggo didn't have to be told twice. He ducked back under the hot water and swam to the other side. Sean came back with another handful of the soap and moved down to Viggo's neck and shoulders. This they had done for each other before, so many times. Viggo leaned forward against the edge, giving Sean more leverage to knead and pull the muscles.
When Sean shifted against him again, Viggo was taken completely by surprise. Suddenly there were long strong arms wrapped around him, pulling and pressing him back into Sean's chest. Sean was breathing hard in his ear. When Viggo tried to twist to look at him, Sean just held him tighter and shuffled forward a little on his knees so that there was no mistaking the press of Sean's erection against his thigh. Viggo swore as his own cock, already half hard from the heat water and Sean's hands on him, twitch in an enthusiastic response.
"Why did I let you pretend, Viggo?" Sean whispered. "Do you know how long it's been since I touched anyone but you? It was that woman, after our first fight. Do you remember how long ago that was? Years, now. And I wanted you before that. I think I wanted you from the first time I saw you, that day in the arena. But I let you pretend, anyway. I've thought about that nearly every day for two years, and I still can't explain to myself why I never let it happen."
As Sean spoke, he reached out to the bowl of oil, still beside the pool. As Viggo felt Sean's whisper against his ear, he watch Sean press his full palm into the bowl, catching more oil as he made a fist that he carefully brought back and lowered under the surface of the water.
The first touch of Sean's hand, tracing along the bottom of his erection, brought Viggo back to his senses.
"Sean! Sean, stop!" Viggo pushed and twisted, lunging to his feet in the waist-deep water, turning to confront his friend. Though now their new positions and Viggo's evident erection, brought to mind other ideas and didn't really improve the situation much. Viggo sat down hard on the edge of the bath, and Sean pounced on him, tugging him back into the pool. Now they were face to face. For a heartbeat he was looking deep into Sean's eyes, now impossibly dark, ringed with emerald.
"Sean," he said weakly. It was more of a moan than a protest.
Then his fingers were in Sean's hair, and they were kissing in the hot water. Viggo had worked so hard not to imagine this, that now it was like a revelation, kissing Sean, letting that strong scarred body he knew so well crush him into the corner of the pool, where there was a seat, of course, and then just kissing and sucking and licking and tasting.
He hardly thought until he found himself with his teeth on Sean's neck, Sean tipping his head back to accept the mark with a deep groan. He took a steadying breath, inhaling the moist air of the bathing room, scented heavily now with the rosemary from the soap and the pure olive oil that glossed the top of the bath water. As he sat back he noticed the fresh tattoo on Sean's shoulder for the first time. The one from Wellington.. Viggo's fingers strayed over the Elvish letters. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice murmured, My mark.
"You can't walk out of here, back out into that house, with a bruise on your neck," Viggo said. His voice sounded far away. He couldn't take his eyes off the ink on Sean's arm. Sean grunted and surged up, bringing them chest to chest again.
"All right," Sean agreed, reaching for something behind Viggo's back. A slick sound and the strong smell of olives. The oil again.
"No one will be able to tell that we did this, will they?" he asked.
Viggo tensed as Sean shifted a little, so that he was nearly sitting in Viggo's lap. Then the well-oiled hand caught both their cocks, and Sean reached around him again, this time with his other hand. Then Sean took them both into a two-handed grip and Viggo lost all ability for coherent though. He whimpered and let his head fall back onto the edge of the bath, and Sean took immediate advantage of the offered neck. But he didn't suck or bite, just licked and kissed, and occasionally ran the hard edge of his teeth over the increasingly sensitive skin. He was breathing hard, panting against Viggo's neck and ear. Viggo was biting his fist now to stop himself from making so much noise that anyone on the other side of the doors would know exactly what they were doing, bruises as evidence or not. Sean's hands around him, Sean's cock pulsing against his, Sean's bare body pressing into him, Sean's mouth, now suckling his ear. Viggo didn't hold out long. He came with a sob into Sean's fist, and Sean added Viggo's semen to the slickness around their erections, sending shuddering aftershocks though Viggo, as he pumped several more stokes and reached his own climax, the heat of him distinct from the heat of the water against Viggo's belly.
They collapsed into each other, letting the disturbed waters of the bath slosh around them, until Sean laughed breathlessly and pushed himself away. Viggo thought he must be grinning like a madman, and he was amazed to see the expression reflected on Sean's face. No anger, or regret, or confusion. Just happiness, and frank lust.
"Food!" Sean said, and stood in the cooling water. He reached down to Viggo and helped him up from the bench. But as they stood there, holding hands in the water, they were drawn together again, kissing again, til Viggo laughed and shoved Sean away pushing him out of the water.
"Food." Viggo reminded him.
Laurel
Author:
muck_a_luck, posting in brainofckPairing: SB/VM (other pairings in later chapters)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Viggo is somewhere else, where everyone and no one is the same
Content/warnings: AU. Violence.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Slash is fiction. So while we may all be demented, slash is basically the author's own
Archive rights: www.rugbytackling.com, Green Opals, if they're interested, and my journals
muck_a_luck and brainofckFurther Disclaimer: Any resemblance to Ancient Rome mostly incidental. I have never seen any gladiator flick. Ever. Honest. Not even stinky Gladiator that stole FOTR's Oscar. *glares*
Blame:
uisgich, for encouraging meArena
Water and Oil
Flesh and Iron
Night Terrors
First
Opening
Closing
Last
The Mysteries of the Next Life, Part I
The Mysteries of the Next Life, Part II
Initiate
Blood Wash
Sword Practice, Part I
Sword Practice, Part II
"Come on," said Viggo, "it's time to quit. You're arm's tired and you're breathing like a bellows!"
Sean just laughed and came after him again. "I've got plenty in me yet," Sean retorted. "You're just scared I'm going to show you up in front of your new followers!" He said tipping his head to the men still watching their bout.
"Sean! I'm not kidding! You should quit before you hurt yourself," Viggo said, sidestepping Sean's tired lunge easily.
"Make me," Sean taunted back and came after him yet again.
"Fine," laughed Viggo, and with a practiced twist and pull sent Sean's blade flying to clatter against the fence. Then he tripped him for good measure as his momentum carried him by. Viggo could never have managed a stunt like that in their days fighting together, but Sean was nearly two years out of practice.
Which didn't mean he fought any less dirty than he ever did. Feeling himself going down, Sean played an old trick of his own, tangling his legs with Viggo's and bringing his friend down with him. Then they were rolling in the dirt of the paddock, wrestling and grappling. Viggo wasn't sure how he found himself on top, pinning Sean face down under him, an arm bent forcefully behind his back.
"Do you yield?" murmured Viggo in Sean's ear. A curt nod was his reply. When Viggo released Sean's arm, his friend turned and twisted under him, so that they were face to face. Sean grinned up at him.
"So, now what?" Sean asked. And for a moment Viggo thought he saw the grin falter and something else in the deep green of Sean's eyes. Viggo shoved himself to his feet and held out a hand to Sean.
"Bath," said Viggo. "Then food."
Then to both their surprise, the ring around them erupted into cheers and clapping, hooting and stomping. Almost by reflex, Viggo faced their spectators and saluted them, as he would the crowd at the arena. At his side, Sean did the same, but almost mockingly, and Viggo recognized the twisted smile that Sean had sometimes worn when he drove home the killing blow in a particularly bitter duel. Viggo let Sean lead him back up to the house. Sean ignored the various praises and well-wishes that were offered by the men, and Viggo respected his friend's silence, nodding here and smiling there, but quickly leaving the crowd behind.
Sean closed the door to the bath chamber softly behind them, as Viggo took it all in.
"This is incredible," he said. A huge pool, set into the floor. Testing the water with his bare toe, Viggo gave a blissful sigh. "Perfect!"
"Well, what do you expect, in a place like this?" Sean replied. Viggo looked at him carefully, but his face and his voice were neutral. Sean was peeling out of his dusty, sweaty clothes. Viggo had already shed boots, shirt and vest and quickly kicked off his pants.
He picked up one of the jars on the edge of the pool. "Scraper?" he asked. But when he opened the lid of the jar, it wasn't oil. It was something creamy and fragrant.
Sean laughed at him. Though again, Viggo wasn't sure that it was quite the right laugh. "We're not in the barracks now, Vig. That's your long-lost soap you're holding there." Viggo looked at him in disbelief.
"Soap?" He stuck a finger into the paste. Definitely a soft soap. And considering how much he'd missed that little part of civilization, strangely disappointing.
Sean had always been able to read him like an open page.
"Unless you'd rather have oil," Sean said. Viggo didn't know how to answer. Sean just grinned and walked around the pool to a shelf set into the back wall.
"There's no reason we can't have both," he said, as he poured oil from a stone jar into a bowl. He brought bowl and scraper back around the pool, and handed them to Viggo.
"I have to say, I agree with you about soap," Sean went on, "But I've missed this."
Viggo dipped his fingers in the oil and walked around behind his friend. He ran his hand down over Sean's spine, planning to work outwards in smooth efficient strokes, as he had learned to do from Sean, all those years ago.
"So many people touch me now," Sean murmured, rolling his shoulders under Viggo's hands, "but none of them have fingers like yours." Sean sighed a little and rolled his shoulders again. Then Sean turned around so suddenly, Viggo nearly dropped the bowl in surprise. There was something in the look on Sean's face that Viggo didn't understand.
"But don't do it that way. Do it the way you did that first time. That day, when you were so afraid, but you still wanted me. You wanted me, and you touched me, and you knew me, and you knew my name. Before you started pretending that you didn't."
Viggo felt his face go hot. Tears were coming shockingly fast, too. He could feel the sting of them, feel them closing his throat. He fought them back.
He knew what the look on Sean's face was now. The heat in his eyes. Sean was angry. Sean had figured him out. Maybe had known all this time, and here was Viggo, wanting oil instead of soap. But what Sean was thinking - it wasn't true.
"That's not why I'm here," said Viggo. He was amazed that he kept all but the slightest tremor out of his voice.
"Of course it's not," Sean replied. "If I had thought it was why you were here, I would have killed you as soon as you freed me this morning, and fallen on the bloody sword."
Sean took a step forward, crowding Viggo, but not quite touching him. Viggo had the bath at his back. There wasn't anywhere for him to go. Then Sean took the bowl from Viggo's hands and set it by the edge of the water. Viggo just stared at him, then blinked and shook his head.
"Since I can see you're not up to finishing what you started," Sean said, flashing him a little smile, "I think we should have a proper bath with soap instead." Sean slipped into the bath from the other side and ducked under the water.
The sudden shift of mood from anger to playful confused Viggo even more. But he felt it was a choice between continuing on with the bath or leaving. If there was any hope of salvaging the day, he would rather stay than go. So he let himself down to the floor and stepped into the deep pool.
The water was gloriously hot, and the pool was deep and wide enough to paddle a few strokes. Viggo swam to the other side, then set his knees on the bottom so that he was chest deep in the water. As he rubbed the water out of his eyes, Sean suddenly moved up behind him, too close again. Viggo's instinct was again to move away, and again it was the pool that had him trapped. He tried to twist around, when something cool and squishy plopped down on his head. Startled, Viggo reached out and caught the edge of the bath with his hands.
"You should shut your eyes," Sean warned. Sean was working his fingers through the damp strands of Viggo's hair, working in the soap, pressing long, strong fingers into his scalp, and his forehead. It felt amazing. Viggo couldn't stop himself from relaxing into Sean's hands, despite his friend's unsettling behavior.
"Rinse it out of your hair, then I'll do your back," Sean suggested. Viggo didn't have to be told twice. He ducked back under the hot water and swam to the other side. Sean came back with another handful of the soap and moved down to Viggo's neck and shoulders. This they had done for each other before, so many times. Viggo leaned forward against the edge, giving Sean more leverage to knead and pull the muscles.
When Sean shifted against him again, Viggo was taken completely by surprise. Suddenly there were long strong arms wrapped around him, pulling and pressing him back into Sean's chest. Sean was breathing hard in his ear. When Viggo tried to twist to look at him, Sean just held him tighter and shuffled forward a little on his knees so that there was no mistaking the press of Sean's erection against his thigh. Viggo swore as his own cock, already half hard from the heat water and Sean's hands on him, twitch in an enthusiastic response.
"Why did I let you pretend, Viggo?" Sean whispered. "Do you know how long it's been since I touched anyone but you? It was that woman, after our first fight. Do you remember how long ago that was? Years, now. And I wanted you before that. I think I wanted you from the first time I saw you, that day in the arena. But I let you pretend, anyway. I've thought about that nearly every day for two years, and I still can't explain to myself why I never let it happen."
As Sean spoke, he reached out to the bowl of oil, still beside the pool. As Viggo felt Sean's whisper against his ear, he watch Sean press his full palm into the bowl, catching more oil as he made a fist that he carefully brought back and lowered under the surface of the water.
The first touch of Sean's hand, tracing along the bottom of his erection, brought Viggo back to his senses.
"Sean! Sean, stop!" Viggo pushed and twisted, lunging to his feet in the waist-deep water, turning to confront his friend. Though now their new positions and Viggo's evident erection, brought to mind other ideas and didn't really improve the situation much. Viggo sat down hard on the edge of the bath, and Sean pounced on him, tugging him back into the pool. Now they were face to face. For a heartbeat he was looking deep into Sean's eyes, now impossibly dark, ringed with emerald.
"Sean," he said weakly. It was more of a moan than a protest.
Then his fingers were in Sean's hair, and they were kissing in the hot water. Viggo had worked so hard not to imagine this, that now it was like a revelation, kissing Sean, letting that strong scarred body he knew so well crush him into the corner of the pool, where there was a seat, of course, and then just kissing and sucking and licking and tasting.
He hardly thought until he found himself with his teeth on Sean's neck, Sean tipping his head back to accept the mark with a deep groan. He took a steadying breath, inhaling the moist air of the bathing room, scented heavily now with the rosemary from the soap and the pure olive oil that glossed the top of the bath water. As he sat back he noticed the fresh tattoo on Sean's shoulder for the first time. The one from Wellington.. Viggo's fingers strayed over the Elvish letters. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice murmured, My mark.
"You can't walk out of here, back out into that house, with a bruise on your neck," Viggo said. His voice sounded far away. He couldn't take his eyes off the ink on Sean's arm. Sean grunted and surged up, bringing them chest to chest again.
"All right," Sean agreed, reaching for something behind Viggo's back. A slick sound and the strong smell of olives. The oil again.
"No one will be able to tell that we did this, will they?" he asked.
Viggo tensed as Sean shifted a little, so that he was nearly sitting in Viggo's lap. Then the well-oiled hand caught both their cocks, and Sean reached around him again, this time with his other hand. Then Sean took them both into a two-handed grip and Viggo lost all ability for coherent though. He whimpered and let his head fall back onto the edge of the bath, and Sean took immediate advantage of the offered neck. But he didn't suck or bite, just licked and kissed, and occasionally ran the hard edge of his teeth over the increasingly sensitive skin. He was breathing hard, panting against Viggo's neck and ear. Viggo was biting his fist now to stop himself from making so much noise that anyone on the other side of the doors would know exactly what they were doing, bruises as evidence or not. Sean's hands around him, Sean's cock pulsing against his, Sean's bare body pressing into him, Sean's mouth, now suckling his ear. Viggo didn't hold out long. He came with a sob into Sean's fist, and Sean added Viggo's semen to the slickness around their erections, sending shuddering aftershocks though Viggo, as he pumped several more stokes and reached his own climax, the heat of him distinct from the heat of the water against Viggo's belly.
They collapsed into each other, letting the disturbed waters of the bath slosh around them, until Sean laughed breathlessly and pushed himself away. Viggo thought he must be grinning like a madman, and he was amazed to see the expression reflected on Sean's face. No anger, or regret, or confusion. Just happiness, and frank lust.
"Food!" Sean said, and stood in the cooling water. He reached down to Viggo and helped him up from the bench. But as they stood there, holding hands in the water, they were drawn together again, kissing again, til Viggo laughed and shoved Sean away pushing him out of the water.
"Food." Viggo reminded him.
Laurel