Words and Meanings
Jan. 26th, 2006 10:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brainofckTitle: Words and Meanings
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
muck_a_luck, posting in brainofck
Pairing: SB/VM/OB, EW, in various permutations
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sean knows the meanings of the words. He's just never heard those words from someone like Viggo before.
Content/warnings: None.
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: My journalsmuck_a_luck and brainofck. Green Opals, if they're interested.
Sean knew what Viggo wanted.
Viggo had said beautiful and work of art and form and flesh and perfection.
Sean had heard these wrods before from many, many people. Knew what they meant. Knew they were true. Knew how valuable these words could be, and how cheap. Knew Viggo had heard them himself, and Orlando would be hearing them soon, and Elijah had probably learned their meanings a decade ago, no matter how carefully his minders had tried to protect him from them.
But Sean had never heard them from anybody quite like Viggo. So when Viggo said other words - project and personal and collection and private - Sean knew exactly what Viggo was really asking. But he still said, "Name your date, mate!" in his best imitation of the local accent, so that tomorrow or a week or a month from now he could pretend he'd been a little too tipsy to talk to a guy like Viggo and maybe he'd agreed by mistake.
"Lush," Viggo said. Sean snorted derisively, then gasped when his right hand, carrying out the duties assigned to it, flicked and squeezed with a perfect twist. The shutter clicked. Sean flushed. Felt the heat in his face. Pretended it was the reflexive blush of pending orgasm, rather than the intensity of the camera's stare and the steady, but not quite predictable, click.
"You are," Viggo insisted. "That's why I wanted you. Eyes. Fingers. Legs. Lips." Sean groaned as he pulled back the foreskin, spreading precum over the head, down the shaft.
"I'd like to do another session with you," Viggo said. The camera clicked. "How would you feel about working with Orli?"
Sean knew what these words meant, too. But Viggo still got his cum shot, though Sean was fairly certain Viggo had missed it, choosing the expression on Sean's face as he moaned his agreement in counterpoint to the pulsing of the cock in his hand.
Orli looked him over appraisingly. The camera clicked again. Sean felt off-center, ankles and knees already bound. But the vertigo had nothing to do with the tightly tied ropes.
"Help him kneel," Viggo instructed flatly, his voice neutral, but the noise of the various cameras belied him, set on repeating timers at various angles.
Orli wrapped Sean in more ropes. Orli, who knealt in front of him, not really touching him, mop of mahogony curls enlarging his eyes. A smitten costume assistant had described those eyes as pools of chocolate when she thought no one but her giggling coconspirator could hear, but when Sean's gase met Orli's he thought chocolate was wrong. There was something darker there, promised deep in those old eys in that young face, more bitter and less sweet, that made Sean think of the complexity of elves.
Sean did whatever they asked. He was nothing if not a professional and he had committed to the project, after all. So when Viggo said, "Only if your comfortable with it" Sean laughed lightly and said "I'm not sure comfortable is the right word" and he hoped that he was the only one who heard the waiver in his own voice.
"Can you move your arms?" Viggo asked.
Orli was snuffling and nuzzling and kissing Sean's cock, the occasional warm-damp application of tongue bringing the return of the vertigo. Viggo's question caught Sean by surprise. He tried to pull back from the daze of lust and want. He flexed his forearms. He was vaguely surprised when he could move them, though he was now thoroughly bound by a network of soft cords. But yes, he could move his arms quite freely and the discovery brought a whine from Sean as he also discovered the less-than-comfortable toy had been incorporated into the bindings at his wrists and when he moved his arms it moved with them. The startling power of the unexpected push-pull took his breath away.
"Yeah," he assured Viggo, his voice rough and strained, "I can move them."
The cameras clicked in their random rhythm.
"He's not going to suck you off," Viggo stated. "You'll have to fuck yourself I you want to cum."
Then Viggo knelt behind Orli.
As Sean watched, Orli shoved the loose silk trousers down his backside to puddle around his knees. Viggo opened the button-fly of his jeans, spreading Orli wide with hands and knees and taking him while Orli's face was still pressed into Sean's crotch.
Sean found himself matching his own thrusts to Viggo's, unconsciously mimicking their strength and speed.
One camera caught the first ribbons of Sean's ejaculation, splashing across Orli's perfect cheekbones. Another caught the impossible stiffening of Sean's body, caught in the rictus of perfect pleasure.
Later, looking over the proofs of the session, Sean saw that the camera that had suddenly appeared in Viggo's hands had caught the denial, Sean's eyes shut hard, his head turned, his mouth open and panting. And Sean recognized the tear that had escaped, slipping down his neck to mix with the sweat of coupling with no one.
The final frames of the session showed Orli, standing tall and straight, slick trails of Viggo's cum smeared on the curve of his buttocks and down the backs of his thighs, presenting a heavy, swollen cock to Sean. Sean struggling to accommodate him. Orli's long fingers tangled in Sean's damp hair.
"I have some other ideas," Viggo said blandly. "Are you free in the next couple of nights?"
"We weren't done?" Sean said, trying to sound politely interested, not surly. It had been weeks.
"Wanted to play out a couple of new thoughts before we lost you to your personal business," Viggo said, vaguely alluding to the pending trip home to deal with the divorce. "Are you still interested?"
"Sure," replied Sean, picking up his beer and re-joining John and Ian in their quiet booth at the back.
Sean was optimistic this session, as Viggo wore the same bare chest and loose silk pants that Orlando was wearing – thinking maybe he hadn't misunderstood the words after all and this was going to finally be what he had expected.
Sean had learned that Viggo tended to see in colors and contrasts, and that he would defer to Orlando's sculptor's eye when the question involved form and shape.
He canted his hips under Orli's urging hands, swayed his back as he instructed. Orli helped him pull his head back, lifting Sean's chin with a demanding palm, so that Sean couldn't hide from the clicking of the shutters. Viggo told him to bend his elbows.
The click of the shutter was rapid as Orli worked Sean open with his other hand, firm and insistent, Viggo catching every nuance of surprise and pain and need that flickered across Sean's face. When fingers were replaced by hard silk-over steel, the camera in Viggo's hands was laid on the work table. Viggo pulled the drawstring on his pants, stepped out of them, and vanished from Sean's limited point of view.
Orlando went very still, then Sean was released to bear the weight of both men.
As his fluids spurted onto the carpet below him, Sean thought that he had misunderstood the words after all. Viggo had never wanted what Sean thought, and now Orli was just another toy for Viggo to shove into Sean – artistically of course – for the compositional effect.
Viggo said the words again. This time softly to Elijah in a corner at a tired, late night unwinding session.
Sean watched them together, only catching a phrase here and there, and wondered if Elijah would interpret the words correctly.
As Viggo walked across the room, Elijah watched him with obvious nervous excitement, a high blush on his cheeks, and a hungry expression in his eyes.
Sean wondered what Elijah thought the words meant.
Author:
muck_a_luck, posting in brainofckPairing: SB/VM/OB, EW, in various permutations
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sean knows the meanings of the words. He's just never heard those words from someone like Viggo before.
Content/warnings: None.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Slash is fiction. So while we may all be demented, slash is basically the author's own
Archive rights: My journals
muck_a_luck and brainofck. Green Opals, if they're interested.Sean knew what Viggo wanted.
Viggo had said beautiful and work of art and form and flesh and perfection.
Sean had heard these wrods before from many, many people. Knew what they meant. Knew they were true. Knew how valuable these words could be, and how cheap. Knew Viggo had heard them himself, and Orlando would be hearing them soon, and Elijah had probably learned their meanings a decade ago, no matter how carefully his minders had tried to protect him from them.
But Sean had never heard them from anybody quite like Viggo. So when Viggo said other words - project and personal and collection and private - Sean knew exactly what Viggo was really asking. But he still said, "Name your date, mate!" in his best imitation of the local accent, so that tomorrow or a week or a month from now he could pretend he'd been a little too tipsy to talk to a guy like Viggo and maybe he'd agreed by mistake.
"Lush," Viggo said. Sean snorted derisively, then gasped when his right hand, carrying out the duties assigned to it, flicked and squeezed with a perfect twist. The shutter clicked. Sean flushed. Felt the heat in his face. Pretended it was the reflexive blush of pending orgasm, rather than the intensity of the camera's stare and the steady, but not quite predictable, click.
"You are," Viggo insisted. "That's why I wanted you. Eyes. Fingers. Legs. Lips." Sean groaned as he pulled back the foreskin, spreading precum over the head, down the shaft.
"I'd like to do another session with you," Viggo said. The camera clicked. "How would you feel about working with Orli?"
Sean knew what these words meant, too. But Viggo still got his cum shot, though Sean was fairly certain Viggo had missed it, choosing the expression on Sean's face as he moaned his agreement in counterpoint to the pulsing of the cock in his hand.
Orli looked him over appraisingly. The camera clicked again. Sean felt off-center, ankles and knees already bound. But the vertigo had nothing to do with the tightly tied ropes.
"Help him kneel," Viggo instructed flatly, his voice neutral, but the noise of the various cameras belied him, set on repeating timers at various angles.
Orli wrapped Sean in more ropes. Orli, who knealt in front of him, not really touching him, mop of mahogony curls enlarging his eyes. A smitten costume assistant had described those eyes as pools of chocolate when she thought no one but her giggling coconspirator could hear, but when Sean's gase met Orli's he thought chocolate was wrong. There was something darker there, promised deep in those old eys in that young face, more bitter and less sweet, that made Sean think of the complexity of elves.
Sean did whatever they asked. He was nothing if not a professional and he had committed to the project, after all. So when Viggo said, "Only if your comfortable with it" Sean laughed lightly and said "I'm not sure comfortable is the right word" and he hoped that he was the only one who heard the waiver in his own voice.
"Can you move your arms?" Viggo asked.
Orli was snuffling and nuzzling and kissing Sean's cock, the occasional warm-damp application of tongue bringing the return of the vertigo. Viggo's question caught Sean by surprise. He tried to pull back from the daze of lust and want. He flexed his forearms. He was vaguely surprised when he could move them, though he was now thoroughly bound by a network of soft cords. But yes, he could move his arms quite freely and the discovery brought a whine from Sean as he also discovered the less-than-comfortable toy had been incorporated into the bindings at his wrists and when he moved his arms it moved with them. The startling power of the unexpected push-pull took his breath away.
"Yeah," he assured Viggo, his voice rough and strained, "I can move them."
The cameras clicked in their random rhythm.
"He's not going to suck you off," Viggo stated. "You'll have to fuck yourself I you want to cum."
Then Viggo knelt behind Orli.
As Sean watched, Orli shoved the loose silk trousers down his backside to puddle around his knees. Viggo opened the button-fly of his jeans, spreading Orli wide with hands and knees and taking him while Orli's face was still pressed into Sean's crotch.
Sean found himself matching his own thrusts to Viggo's, unconsciously mimicking their strength and speed.
One camera caught the first ribbons of Sean's ejaculation, splashing across Orli's perfect cheekbones. Another caught the impossible stiffening of Sean's body, caught in the rictus of perfect pleasure.
Later, looking over the proofs of the session, Sean saw that the camera that had suddenly appeared in Viggo's hands had caught the denial, Sean's eyes shut hard, his head turned, his mouth open and panting. And Sean recognized the tear that had escaped, slipping down his neck to mix with the sweat of coupling with no one.
The final frames of the session showed Orli, standing tall and straight, slick trails of Viggo's cum smeared on the curve of his buttocks and down the backs of his thighs, presenting a heavy, swollen cock to Sean. Sean struggling to accommodate him. Orli's long fingers tangled in Sean's damp hair.
"I have some other ideas," Viggo said blandly. "Are you free in the next couple of nights?"
"We weren't done?" Sean said, trying to sound politely interested, not surly. It had been weeks.
"Wanted to play out a couple of new thoughts before we lost you to your personal business," Viggo said, vaguely alluding to the pending trip home to deal with the divorce. "Are you still interested?"
"Sure," replied Sean, picking up his beer and re-joining John and Ian in their quiet booth at the back.
Sean was optimistic this session, as Viggo wore the same bare chest and loose silk pants that Orlando was wearing – thinking maybe he hadn't misunderstood the words after all and this was going to finally be what he had expected.
Sean had learned that Viggo tended to see in colors and contrasts, and that he would defer to Orlando's sculptor's eye when the question involved form and shape.
He canted his hips under Orli's urging hands, swayed his back as he instructed. Orli helped him pull his head back, lifting Sean's chin with a demanding palm, so that Sean couldn't hide from the clicking of the shutters. Viggo told him to bend his elbows.
The click of the shutter was rapid as Orli worked Sean open with his other hand, firm and insistent, Viggo catching every nuance of surprise and pain and need that flickered across Sean's face. When fingers were replaced by hard silk-over steel, the camera in Viggo's hands was laid on the work table. Viggo pulled the drawstring on his pants, stepped out of them, and vanished from Sean's limited point of view.
Orlando went very still, then Sean was released to bear the weight of both men.
As his fluids spurted onto the carpet below him, Sean thought that he had misunderstood the words after all. Viggo had never wanted what Sean thought, and now Orli was just another toy for Viggo to shove into Sean – artistically of course – for the compositional effect.
Viggo said the words again. This time softly to Elijah in a corner at a tired, late night unwinding session.
Sean watched them together, only catching a phrase here and there, and wondered if Elijah would interpret the words correctly.
As Viggo walked across the room, Elijah watched him with obvious nervous excitement, a high blush on his cheeks, and a hungry expression in his eyes.
Sean wondered what Elijah thought the words meant.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-01-26 04:55 pm (UTC)Sean's eyes shut hard, his head turned, his mouth open and panting. And Sean recognized the tear that had escaped, slipping down his neck to mix with the sweat of coupling with no one.
but how Viggo can see this - create this - without reacting to it on a personal and deeply emotional level, particularly when supposedly they're friends, but keep himself aloof from what his camera's picking up, right there in front of him... dang, that's a cold, cold man!
Wonderful work here. I was completely spellbound!
no subject
Date: 2006-01-26 05:37 pm (UTC)Sean makes a lot of assumptions. But he's doing a lot of acting, too. I guess the question is, does Viggo realize and not care, or did Sean completely misinterpret, then do a great job covering it up? Hmmm. I do so love a tight POV. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-26 06:38 pm (UTC)Oo, you've made me *think*. Now it'll be hard to concentrate on the drudgery at work! :D
no subject
Date: 2006-01-26 07:42 pm (UTC)I'm not proud. I'm perfectly willing to grovel. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-26 05:19 pm (UTC)*tried to think of good solid feedback wording*
*fails*
Just. wow. I love the cool narrative style. Belies the utter hotness of it all.
Did I say Wow yet???
no subject
Date: 2006-01-26 05:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-26 05:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-26 05:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-26 06:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-26 06:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-26 06:38 pm (UTC)Viggo had never wanted what Sean thought, and now Orli was just another toy for Viggo to shove into Sean – artistically of course – for the compositional effect.
Ow ow ow ow ow. *cries* Sean thought he was acting so detached, but Viggo... damn. And Orli, too. Fucking artists. Yes, both ways.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-26 07:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-27 07:03 pm (UTC)Lovely work.
But I think you've got a few typos . . . meeep!
no subject
Date: 2006-01-30 09:19 am (UTC)Very well written...I thought it was wonderful
no subject
Date: 2006-01-31 10:10 pm (UTC)There was something darker there, promised deep in those old eyes in that young face, more bitter and less sweet, that made Sean think of the complexity of elves
Love Sean's description of Orli.
And the distance and silent yearning for something Sean can't have add to the eroticism.