brainofck | Encounters with the Dark Muse, Part 6

brainofck

Title: Encounters with the Dark Muse
Author:

muck_a_luck, posted in

rugbytackle and

brainofck
Pairing: SB/VM
Rating: NC-17
Summary: How did Sean get here? And where did Viggo come from?
Content/warnings: Kidnapping. Violence (though not in the sex). Non-con. Various kink. Angst. Mostly PWP.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Slash is fiction. So while we may all be demented, slash is basically the author's own ~~porno~~ 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*
Additional disclaimer: In light of the (surprisingly unintended) parallels between my disclaimer and my story, feel I should make an additional disclaimer. I have no real desire to kidnap these people. I am not a stalker. I don't have any intention of trying to make fiction reality. No international sex crime syndicate at my disposal, people!
Archive rights: www.Rugbytackling.com only, and Green Opals, if they're interested.
Beta:

uisgich,

cocoajava,

seleneheart. Thanks so much, chicas!
Special Thanks: To

uisgich for so ~~orgasmically~~ sweetly indulging my recent obsession with ~~her~~ toes. When you come here in September, we will have to be sure I have my alcohol at home, lest I become inebriated after my one pina colada and try to molest ~~you~~ your feet. Save us a public scene...

Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V

Before the sun fully set, Sean slipped back into the bedroom. He told himself he should switch on the bedside lamp, so that he would be able to come to bed later without disturbing Viggo's sleep.

He refused to let himself think very hard about coming to bed later. Just as he had absolutely refused to think about coming to Viggo's house this morning. He was trying, actually, not to think much at all these days. Just let thoughts occur in his head. Nothing to do with him.

But then he'd looked at Viggo, sprawled across the bed. Looked at him as he hadn't since.... Well, as he hadn't looked at him ever, really. Why would he look at Viggo anyway? Sean looked a long time.

Viggo woke to the feeling of being watched. It was funny how actors got sensitive to that feeling. The awareness of camera and audience. Or maybe they were being watched so often that it was how they always felt, and therefore it was just coincidence that he had that feeling upon waking to find Sean tucked in on himself in the arm chair in the corner of the room, barely visible in the soft dim glow of the bedside lamp.

"Hey," Viggo said, as Sean sat unmoving. Viggo couldn't see his eyes clearly in the almost darkness of the room. "You OK?"

Sean gave him a weak smile.

"Nah. But it'll work itself out, yeah?" he said softly. Sean's voice was rough. There was a tall glass with lemon and ice in it on the floor by the chair. Viggo wondered what Sean was drinking. Did he have vodka in the freezer still, from the hobbits' last visit?

Viggo swallowed hard.

"Sean," he started. But Sean was quicker.

"I didn't mean to wake you up," he said, in the same soft, rough voice. "I wasn't watching you. I was watching your feet."

Viggo had kicked the covers off in his sleep as he always did. Exene used to joke that he breathed through his feet. Now, bare, clean from the shower, his feet were exposed to the fresh air, and following Sean's eyeline, Viggo realized that Sean was watching them.

"Sean," he tried again, but this time it came out soft and breathy. The plea of a hopeful lover, not the voice of a reassuring, sensible friend. Dammit.

Then Sean was moving. He unfolded gracefully from the chair, falling to his knees at the foot of the bed, cool, strong fingers wrapping with the slightest tremor around Viggo's ankle.

"Sean, don't," Viggo finally managed, but this time it came out as a groan, as Sean's tongue flicked out over the arch of Viggo's instep. He cursed his own weakness as the very first touches of Sean's hand and tongue sent little thrills all through his body. Instant heat. His heart was already skipping beats. Watching the golden top of Sean's head and the sensual curve of bare back and shoulders wasn't helping any at all.

Viggo let his head tip back and suppressed another groan and tried to regroup. Sean delicately set his teeth to the flesh and callus below Viggo's largest toe. Control was completely impossible. Viggo whimpered.

"Sean, don't do this. Please." He hoped it sounded like begging to stop.

Sean paused mid-lick, and settled his bearded chin into the arch.

"There's no need to do this," Viggo said breathlessly. "I don't want you to go, but you don't have to stay. Not for this. I don't expect anything from you. We weren't lovers before..."

Sean didn't wait for him to finish, just turned his head a little to bite down into the dampened skin of the arch of Viggo's foot, now sensitized by the prickle of coarse hair.

"I said I wanted to stay to find out what I want," Sean murmured. "Right now, at this moment, what I want is your feet."

"No, you don't," Viggo replied, trying for gentle, but confident. "You don't if it took a tumbler full of vodka to get my ungh toes into your mouth. Fuck." Viggo had never felt anything quite like Sean's warm, slick tongue between his toes.

Sean stopped then and sat up to look Viggo directly in the eye. His gaze was remarkably clear and steady. He turned and reached back behind him to the glass on the floor and he crawled up onto the bed with it, climbing onto Viggo's thighs and settling there. He lifted the lemon scented glass to Viggo's mouth.

"Go on," Sean murmured, "Maybe you need it just as much as I did."

That sounded really good, actually. Viggo surrendered. As if he had ever really been fighting this fight anyway. He let Sean pour clear, cold liquid into his sleep-dry mouth.

Cold, clean water, crisp with the lemon. Viggo almost choked on it in surprise.

Sean was watching him intently. Now he took the glass back, finished it, took a bite out of the lemon slice and set the glass on the bedside table.

Sean's kiss was cool citrus and heat. He pressed Viggo back into the mattress. Not the desperate hot kiss from yesterday afternoon on the couch, but a long, lazy, exploring kiss that Viggo was helpless to resist. He let himself melt into the pillows and accept it, reveling in Sean's weight on him and the sweet crush of their matching erections between their bodies.

Though as soon as Sean moved from mouth to jaw to ear, Viggo was pleading to be fucked - abject, pathetic begging.

"God. I can't take this. You can't do this to me. Jesus, get out of those pants. Get off me. God, fuck me already." He found himself rubbing and squirming wantonly against the hard weight above him, trying to relieve the growing lust. His breath was coming too fast now.

Sean laughed, little puffs of warm air over the now damp skin of his ear that sent shudders through Viggo's entire body. But then Sean lifted up and off, and Viggo scrambled to disentangle himself from the sheets and to rid himself of the shorts he'd put on before bed. Sean was back as Viggo scrabbled in the nightstand draw for supplies, wrapping his arms around Viggo's thighs and pressing his shoulder against Viggo's ass, his cheek rubbed against Viggo's hip.

"Hurry up," Sean said huskily, "Or I'll make you do without, just like you did me." He turned his head and bit hard on Viggo's hip, and Viggo squeaked involuntarily. He wondered how he was supposed to hurry up with Sean distracting him so completely. Then Sean leaned heavily against him, taking Viggo's cock into his large hand and pulling back against Viggo's knees with his other arm, effectively sweeping the legs out from under him. The pressure on his cock made him groan, as Sean climbed up his body and fished the bottle of lube out of the drawer himself.

Viggo was distantly surprised that Sean seemed to know exactly what to do, though his brain was rapidly melting, which was reducing his ability to think clearly about Sean's technique to nearly nothing. Sean's long, slim fingers, pressing into him perfectly, slick with warmed lotion. Viggo managed to keep just enough self-control to stop himself from humping the bed as Sean finger-fucked him thoroughly. By the time Sean carefully removed his fingers, Viggo was frantic to spread his legs and take him.

Then suddenly the world spun, and Viggo was on his back, and to Viggo's infinite delight, Sean was pushing his thighs open, holding Viggo spread with his knees as he knelt above him. Sean filled his palm with the slick liquid and didn't even stop to blow over it, just took himself in hand, breath catching and eyes falling shut as he pumped into his own fist. Viggo gave a sobbing cry of frustration and lunged up, seizing his lover by both forearms and heaving him back down onto him again.

"Quit wanking yourself and fuck me, dammit," he growled, and he didn't have to ask twice. The answering curl of lip and the forest black eyes promised Viggo the fuck of a lifetime.

But Sean was remarkably gentle as he pressed Viggo's knees into Viggo's shoulders and held them there. The look of rapt concentration on Sean's face was perfect, as he watched himself line up to push in. Viggo nearly howled as the leaking slick head of Sean's cock brushed against his hole the first time.

Then Sean was pushing into him, and Viggo's entire body tried to arch in response. But folded in half as he was, he was trapped, and the arch turned into a convulsive shudder. Fuck, he always forgot, between men, how good it felt to do this. He reached back and caught the headboard with both hands and got ready to hold on for the ride.

And at first, it was exactly what Viggo expected. Sean gave him time to adjust, then set a rhythm of long hard strokes designed to send them both crashing over the edge in record time.

But then he seemed to reconsider.

"Viggo?" Sean said, and paused a moment to get his lover's attention. When Viggo opened his eyes and looked at him, Sean picked up the pace again. "I want you to hold out for me," Sean said.

Viggo looked up at him, lust-addled brain not understanding the request. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you are going to do me when I'm done with you." Viggo groaned in response.

"Well, if you keep talking like that with your cock up my ass, I'm going to cum whether we like it or not. I'm going to need help, if you want me to hold out. Just stop a second."

Sean went completely still, while Viggo panted under him, eyes tightly shut, trying to pull together some form of control.

"If you want me to wait," he finally managed, "I think we're gonna have to tie me off."

"You got anything in mind?"

"I'm not really in any fit state to think something like this through at the moment," Viggo protested. Sean cast about the room for something that would work.

"Boots," Sean suddenly laughed.

Aragorn's boots. With lovely broad leather laces. All the way up. Perfect.

Sean pulled out carefully, winning a groan from Viggo, who curled up on himself in the bed, forearms over his face, fingers tangling in his own hair.

"Sadist," Viggo muttered, glaring at his lover with one eye from under his arm.

Sean grinned to himself and went for the bootlace.

"I knew a woman," Sean said thoughtfully as he came back to the bed, running the leather thong through his fingers. "She was more than I could handle. But she did something once that I haven't thought of in years..."

He nudged Viggo's knee and his friend reluctantly uncoiled. Sean settled back on Viggo's thighs. He didn't just tie him off, though.

He looped the leather around the base of Viggo's cock, then under his balls, and back up to the top again. Then slowly and carefully, he began to braid the two ends of the folded strap up from the base.

Viggo watched as Sean deftly criss-crossed the rosy flesh of his cock with the dark leather bindings. Sean's adventure in macramé was creating an unbearable throbbing tension in his groin that translated itself into an almost convulsive arching of his spine. He couldn't catch his breath and the strange alien conflict of pleasure and denial had him whimpering and panting and swearing in a dozen languages. His hips, of their own accord, were attempting to thrust into the pressure created by the braided torture of the leather thong, but Sean held him still with a low chuckle.

When Sean finally tied the final knot, Viggo was near tears.

"If you don't finish this and fuck me already, I think I'm going to die," Viggo groaned.

"You'll be fine, luv, trust me," Sean whispered. He lifted Viggo by the knees, bending him back into position, and they started again.

But now, Sean seemed to be in no hurry. He leaned in carefully to kiss him, holding his weight off Viggo's vulnerable form on his elbows and knees, letting Viggo's legs drape over his back 'til his heels rested nearly on the bruise there. They kissed like that for a long time, Sean rocking in and out of him in strokes as long and languid as their kisses, Viggo's wrapped cock vibrating between them.

He finally couldn't take it any more.

"Please," he whispered, "Please. Please."

He couldn't even think of what else to say.

"Alright," Sean finally, replied. He sat back away from Viggo, shifting them both as Viggo's legs over Sean's shoulders carried Viggo with him. Viggo reached back again for the headboard and it all faded to the movement of their bodies. Sean's hard long thrusts, becoming steadily quicker and shorter, until he stiffened and shuddered and burst inside Viggo's body, the slickness oozing between them, sweet and sticky, and Viggo still was throbbing inside the prison of the bootlace.

He never remembered how it happened, that he was suddenly over Sean, who was smiling lazily up at him. Sean opened his legs like a common whore and the grin broadened impossibly.

"Ready," he purred.

Preparing Sean was like a nightmare of lust. Viggo was shaking with the need to come, but Sean wasn't ready. And neither was Viggo. He knew very well the lace had to come off, and he wasn't sure he would last through the process of unbraiding it. He tried to will the boiling, bottled orgasm away and he pressed slick fingers into Sean's opening and thought the least arousing thoughts possible. He hit on the image of John sucking PJ off, then bending and begging and by the time he got to the first imaginary thrust, Viggo felt certain that he could at least undo the bindings and manage penetration before he lost it.

Sean shut his eyes and shuddered through the aftershocks as Viggo opened him. His friend looked completely out of his mind above him, and the few quick peeks Sean had taken revealed exactly how much Viggo must be suffering in his bindings. But it was easy not to think as Viggo manipulated him, and when Viggo took his fingers away to undo the knot and begin to work on the thongs, Sean shut his eyes and tried to breathe his way through the new twitching in his dick.

He hadn't been exactly sure what to expect, once Viggo freed himself. But of his own necessity, Viggo went carefully, and once he was in, stopped for a long time, mumbling to himself. Sean wrapped his legs around Viggo's waist, then lay beneath him, impaled and waiting, trying not to shift impatiently. He was getting hard again already, which didn't seem possible, but none of this seemed quite possible, so he tried to be still and not question it.

Once Viggo started, though, it was quick and rough. It was clear Viggo was too close to make it last, and Sean took his own cock in hand as Viggo pounded into him and managed to bring himself off just as Viggo screamed and shuddered and collapsed on top of him.

They lay tangled together, Viggo cradled between Sean's thighs, Sean's legs still wrapped loosely over the small of his back. Over the past several days this had been one of the things Sean refused to think about - how good it felt to be weighted down.

He fell asleep not thinking about any of it.

Rather than put an evil dead link here, there are other things you can read while you wait for Part VII, which might be a long time coming. Kind regards, CK