Okay so Sean was surprised by Viggo's sudden change of heart. This wasn't romantic any more - or it was, but it wasn't softly softly like Viggo had been before, it was passionate and powerful, and it totally overwhelmed him, so that he wasn't really prepared for Viggo to kiss him all at once like this, driving down onto him, rockign his hips down to trap him against the bed, with his nimble fingers working his clothing like he were working saddle leathers, buttoning open, dropping down so that every inch of his erection seemed to press against him fabric through fabric.
"Fuck," he hissed, and "Fuck" again as Viggo's hands moved up, twisting his shirt together until he found himself pinned, the full weight of the other man on his chest as he tied him up with the silk bowtie. Well... He really hadn't seen that coming.
Patience, my Steward. Jesus, the lines were being crossed all over the sodding place, weren't they? Half himself and half Boromir and yet all Sean and Viggo and modern and sex, his expensive suit trousers and his crumpled silk shirt and Viggo's fucking hands running down. He hadn't had any reason to worry, not really, this wasn't going to be a gentle, slow fuck, and if it was then it was only to wind him up, to stretch it out and make him moan and shiver, and Sean was reminded of that scene with Christian, bound to the chair with the other man moving all over him, barely touching and yet driving him crazy. This was different and yet very similar. This was Viggo, and Viggo was...Viggo was a promise. Viggo was different. When Viggo bit him it wasn't a laciviously tender bite with lots of tongue and hot breath, it was hard and passionate and sharp. Everything about Viggo was passionate and sharp, Sean reflected.
"Shoulda done this...sooner." He grinned, leaning slightly back, turning his wrists just slightly inside their bondage, and his eyes stayed bright on Viggo's. His grin turned into a smirk.
"Make me think only of you, huh?" He licked his lips, charmed. "Hard to do that when you do such a good job of reminding me of Aragorn." Another lick, and he leant forward. "You call this kingly?" He laughed again. "I think Boromir mighta forgotten all about Gondor if Aragorn did this to him."
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"Fuck," he hissed, and "Fuck" again as Viggo's hands moved up, twisting his shirt together until he found himself pinned, the full weight of the other man on his chest as he tied him up with the silk bowtie. Well... He really hadn't seen that coming.
Patience, my Steward. Jesus, the lines were being crossed all over the sodding place, weren't they? Half himself and half Boromir and yet all Sean and Viggo and modern and sex, his expensive suit trousers and his crumpled silk shirt and Viggo's fucking hands running down. He hadn't had any reason to worry, not really, this wasn't going to be a gentle, slow fuck, and if it was then it was only to wind him up, to stretch it out and make him moan and shiver, and Sean was reminded of that scene with Christian, bound to the chair with the other man moving all over him, barely touching and yet driving him crazy. This was different and yet very similar. This was Viggo, and Viggo was...Viggo was a promise. Viggo was different. When Viggo bit him it wasn't a laciviously tender bite with lots of tongue and hot breath, it was hard and passionate and sharp. Everything about Viggo was passionate and sharp, Sean reflected.
"Shoulda done this...sooner." He grinned, leaning slightly back, turning his wrists just slightly inside their bondage, and his eyes stayed bright on Viggo's. His grin turned into a smirk.
"Make me think only of you, huh?" He licked his lips, charmed. "Hard to do that when you do such a good job of reminding me of Aragorn." Another lick, and he leant forward. "You call this kingly?" He laughed again. "I think Boromir mighta forgotten all about Gondor if Aragorn did this to him."
His eyes were still sparkling.