Sean was unbalancing him again, physically and mentally and emotionally all, and Viggo gasped quietly, leaning over him, his legs spread around Sean's hips as if straddling him. He bit down on his own lip, staring at him for a long moment, completely uncomprehending about what is being said because his mind had taken to running in circles in panic over his desire for this man.
It wasn't a sexual identity crisis; nothing that cliche. It was simply that it had been so damn long since Viggo had kissed anyone, much less plastered himself so fully against them with the aching want to take off their clothes and feel the heat of their bodies against each other. There were plenty of people willing to fuck him, whether because he was Aragorn or Walker Jerome or even Tom Stall, but Viggo had never taken them up to any of those offers because he knew it wasn't Viggo Mortensen that they wanted; that It was even he was only capable of disappointing them.
It had been years, and Viggo had never been afraid of intimacy or affection- it wasn't Sean who scared him, not really. Sean had only taken him off-guard, exposed him to his body and his mind and his heart's desires, and that had terrified him far more than he can ever say. Viggo had so rarely wanted that it was almost like being lost at sea, and he couldn't help but lean in further, pressing his lips against Sean's neck. He licked gently at the column, from the stark hollow upwards to his chin, to the mild stubble he could feel, and Viggo leaned in gently and kissed Sean again, just the briefest brush of the lips. The kind of kiss that he would've given any of the Fellowship.
"I didn't understand why I hadn't," he said, and his voice was almost contemplative. It would have been if not for the heavy thrum of desire underneath, if not for the tension in his voice, tight as the skin of a drum. "But I think- I would've wanted more than just that. Even Aragorn would have wanted more, Arwen and kingship be damned, because Boromir meant so much to him."
He stroked a hand down Sean's face, feeling the roughness of the lines, the scrape of stubble, and he kissed him again, at his temple.
"I want it, but-" he took a breath, and pulled himself up with an effort, pulling away from Sean's blazing heat. "Are you sure? I don't want you to become someone else just to please me. You don't have to do anything because of what I want."
Another breath. "I know that you're- sleeping with Christian Bale. It's hard not to, with how fiercely he was glaring at me." Viggo ducked his head, feigning amusement but only hiding his embarrassment and discomfort. If Sean pushed him away now, he would've deserved it, but- he wanted to be sure.
"I've never been very good at chasing the people I want."
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It wasn't a sexual identity crisis; nothing that cliche. It was simply that it had been so damn long since Viggo had kissed anyone, much less plastered himself so fully against them with the aching want to take off their clothes and feel the heat of their bodies against each other. There were plenty of people willing to fuck him, whether because he was Aragorn or Walker Jerome or even Tom Stall, but Viggo had never taken them up to any of those offers because he knew it wasn't Viggo Mortensen that they wanted; that It was even he was only capable of disappointing them.
It had been years, and Viggo had never been afraid of intimacy or affection- it wasn't Sean who scared him, not really. Sean had only taken him off-guard, exposed him to his body and his mind and his heart's desires, and that had terrified him far more than he can ever say. Viggo had so rarely wanted that it was almost like being lost at sea, and he couldn't help but lean in further, pressing his lips against Sean's neck. He licked gently at the column, from the stark hollow upwards to his chin, to the mild stubble he could feel, and Viggo leaned in gently and kissed Sean again, just the briefest brush of the lips. The kind of kiss that he would've given any of the Fellowship.
"I didn't understand why I hadn't," he said, and his voice was almost contemplative. It would have been if not for the heavy thrum of desire underneath, if not for the tension in his voice, tight as the skin of a drum. "But I think- I would've wanted more than just that. Even Aragorn would have wanted more, Arwen and kingship be damned, because Boromir meant so much to him."
He stroked a hand down Sean's face, feeling the roughness of the lines, the scrape of stubble, and he kissed him again, at his temple.
"I want it, but-" he took a breath, and pulled himself up with an effort, pulling away from Sean's blazing heat. "Are you sure? I don't want you to become someone else just to please me. You don't have to do anything because of what I want."
Another breath. "I know that you're- sleeping with Christian Bale. It's hard not to, with how fiercely he was glaring at me." Viggo ducked his head, feigning amusement but only hiding his embarrassment and discomfort. If Sean pushed him away now, he would've deserved it, but- he wanted to be sure.
"I've never been very good at chasing the people I want."