Decision – The Price of Fame Title: Decision - The Price of Fame Author: klatschmohn (rotpunkt) & Ashlyn K. Toliver (thevixenne) E-Mail: KTR525@yahoo.com Rating: R to NC-17 Characters: Sean B./Viggo M./OFC’s Warnings: Kinky sex in chapter 4 Disclaimer: This is a work of FICTION, created by two slashy women who simply adore Sean and Viggo and love playing with them (We wish!). Notes: This is the first collaboration for the both of us and we had a lot of fun, though we live on opposite ends of the world. Isn’t the Internet wonderful? Thanks Anne for inviting me to play. Thanks to Ashlyn: I dreamed and she made the dream come true! Summary: The price of fame is high…is Sean willing to pay it? Fame, bully for you, chilly for me Got to get a rain check on – pain… Fame – David Bowie ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Four “…Oh god, Viggo…” Sean’s voice was ragged, gasping from the force of his want. Viggo stalked him, claimed his man in a kiss that was both forgiveness and punishment. They shed their clothes carelessly, never once breaking the kiss as expensive fabrics were torn away from heated bodies eager to for touch, for taste, and for the scent of each other’s lust. Kissing, stumbling around the room, clinging to each other blindly, hands like flames seeking and burning, their passion beyond the edge of reason, each demanded assurance from minds and bodies that they would never allow themselves to be separated again. “Make me yours,” Sean growled hungrily against Viggo’s mouth. “Make me feel that I’m yours…” Whatever comes – will come on the morrow, but for now, nothing mattered. Viggo forced Sean’s head back, marking him for all to see and for none to forget – lips and teeth ravaging him, inflamed and incensed by his moans. Viggo took Sean brutally, without mercy, and Sean neither expected nor wanted anything else. Each unyielding thrust inside branded him, reminding him that they belonged together…that what they had together was more important than any career. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Later that evening as they basked in the lingering afterglow of their savage loving, Sean’s cell phone rang. “Time to face the firing squad,” Viggo quipped, looking at him knowingly. He picked it up and held as far away from him as possible, the way one would handle a poisonous snake. Before he could get out even a hello, Trevor’s voice slammed him like a hurricane. “…And you’re bloody insane if you think, for one fucking minute, that I’m going to lift one finger to somehow clean up this huge cluster-fuck you’ve caused…there’s not enough money in the fucking world that would make me want to even try to make some sense of this…And don’t even bother to make that London trip, I’ve got enough headaches to deal with…” Sean winked at Viggo. “Goodbye Trev, old man. Thanks for everything.” And this time when he hung up on him, it was for the very last time. “Looks like I’ll be making that long-overdue call to Ian tomorrow.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ For awhile they lay together in silence, deeply embracing, breathing in one rhythm as their hearts beat in synchronized harmony. Then their bodies began to move and touch again, as if by their own resolve. Viggo often thought even if they ever decided to part, their bodies would not let them. That they would find back to each other like a beloved pet lost far away would find their way home by pure instinct. “Never leave me again, Sean. Not that way.” “Aye love, I cannot. You’re a much a part of me as my own heartbeat, Viggo.” “I’m sorry,” and the apology needed no explanation. “I will always have a career Viggo, and I guess until tonight I never realized that. I guess with so much loss in my life, I was afraid of that being taken away from me too. I just don’t want to be held hostage to anyone else’s opinion of my private life any longer.” He took another breath and turned an intense gaze on the blue-eyed man. “Mark me, Viggo.” Viggo didn’t understand. “Take a good look in the mirror, Sean,” he laughed. “People are going to ask what attacked you.” Sean shook his head. “These marks will vanish.” Silence. “You’re asking me to mark you permanently, Sean?” Viggo whispered, completely shocked, wondering if the events of the past few hours have finally caught up with his lover. He nodded. “Brand me, Viggo.” There were very few times in his life where Viggo was rendered speechless. This was one of those times. “Sean…do you even have a clue what it is you’re asking for? I don’t want you to…” “No.” Sean sounded very sure of himself. “This is something I’ve wanted for a long time, Vig. We’re often apart, weeks, sometimes months… I feel so lonely… I need something to touch, to look at when you’re gone, to remind me I’m yours.” But Viggo was hardly mollified. “If it’s about that, we can buy rings or a collar, maybe a tattoo.” “You can easily take off rings, Vig. I’ve done that a few times, remember?” Sean chuckled like someone who was offered a toy car instead of the real thing. “I know it’s partly my fault, but my belief in that symbol has shattered. I have 100% Blades tattooed on my shoulder and the elvish nine from the film. And yes, those things are special to me, but my feelings for you go much deeper than that.” Viggo gathered Sean in his arms, murmuring, “Listen, Sean, you don’t have to prove anything to me. I love you and that’s enough for me.” “I know you do, but I really want…need this,” Sean answered softly, casting down his eyes and when Viggo tenderly lifted his chin to make him look at him again he saw tears glittering like emerald rain. “Sean…” “It’s just… perhaps you’re not sure you want it forever…” “Don’t be daft, Sean…” “Please, Viggo…” “I don’t need to tattoo or brand anything on my body to know what I feel for you is lasting,” Viggo said, a little hurt that Sean might have thought his love fleeting. “But I’m not you. You seem to be able to pick up the pieces of your life and go on. You still believe in happy endings. Me, sometimes I think I’m just dreaming all this…that I’ll wake up alone in my flat with nothing but a bottle of Glenfiddich to keep me company.” “And you think this brand will somehow make it more real for you?” “I’ll know. I’ll feel it.” “It’s very painful,” Viggo said seriously. “Much more painful than anything we’ve done together. I’ve whipped you… two or three times I’ve whipped you hard enough to break the skin, but what you’re asking for…this is something different, Sean.” Sean simply nodded. “I learned something when my girls were born,” he began, his eyes closing in recollection. “The pain of birth binds the mother to her child in an almost mystical way. One would think that pain as we know it would have the opposite effect, and if that were true no woman would ever want to be a mother or worse, would ever want to be around the being that caused such pain. But the laws of love are different, to suffer pain for someone you love binds you to them forever.” They locked eyes for a long moment. Viggo realized that Sean had thought it through. He also saw that shine in his eyes and knew he already drifted in what could be called the first stadium of the process that led to a certain trance Viggo knew well… “I will brand you, Sean… you will know that you’re mine from the core of your very being to the marrow of your bones…” It sounded like threat and promise in one. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ They made love for the third time that night, slowly, gently, taking the time to worship at the altar of each other’s bodies. Sated, Sean curled up around Viggo, spoon-fashion and the sound of his deep breath signaled his gentle descent into the warm cocoon of sleep. Viggo was still fully awake, the echoes of Sean’s request revolving in his mind. Brand me, Viggo… A permanent mark inflicted upon living flesh – fire and flames seared on the skin to scream to the world “I am owned”. It would be painful, far more so than anything they’d ever done – it was for all intents and purposes, a third-degree burn that if properly carried out, became a work of art. He’d seen enough of them when he was still married to Christine and hanging out with mutual acquaintances who had been a part of the BDSM scene. Brand me, Viggo… And what would happen to the both of them afterwards? There was the bright and harsh glare of tomorrow and the next day and the days following. How would Sean feel then, especially now that he’d made his choice? Years down the road would Sean regret the impulse that had possessed him to scar his body for life? Would he hate Viggo for giving in? Or was it exactly what Sean had said earlier, a talisman of sorts, on a part of his body that no one would ever see (Viggo hoped), a link to the man he’d given his heart and soul to. Something to comfort him when they were away from each other’s physical presence. A stylized V with an S embedded somewhere in the middle…perhaps a heart encasing both consonants… His rational mind might have been torn, but Viggo’s artistic impulse was quite intact. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Viggo awoke to a still-dark sky though the bedside clock read five-thirty. He’d slept fitfully off and on, dreaming of branding Sean…dreaming of fucking Sean while he did so…dreaming of the acrid stench of burning flesh and Sean’s moans of pleasure metamorphosing into screams of pain… Startled, he shot up, eyes wide, nearly gasping for air, sweat bathing his body as he tried to free himself from the vivid images. He felt the cool, soothing hand of Sean on his shoulder, and the tension eased. “Nightmare, luv?” Sean’s sleepy voice was filled with concern. Running his hand through sweat-matted hair, he smiled wanly, “Yeah, I guess so. I haven’t had one in years.” The blonde man regarded his lover quizzically. “Lucky you. Bad dreams used to turn into even worse reality for me.” Leave it to Sean, Viggo thought, chuckling to himself, as the last tendrils of the nightmare dissipated like mist. “Think I’m okay now.” “No, you’re not.” “What?” “I said, you’re not all right and I think I know why. But I’m no masochist.” The man was far too astute by half, though Viggo couldn’t help but to give his lover a funny look like a lopsided grin. “Stop that,” Sean said. “Excuse me, Sean, but some people would seriously question that last statement considering the fact that you asked me to hold a piece of hot metal to your body for several seconds.” Sean gave his lover one of his ‘no-kidding’ looks that Viggo knew better than to ignore and the grin disappeared. “I mean it, Viggo, this is important to me.” His unswerving gaze bore into Viggo’s. “I don’t like pain for pain’s sake and I wouldn’t take it from anyone else but you and you should damn well know that by now.” Viggo didn’t say a word, awed and not a little intimidated by Sean’s determination. The other man’s eyes were so deep he felt disoriented just looking into them. “It’s just…just that every feeling has a physical manifestation – laughing symbolizes joy, tears can be for sadness or relief, whatever – every feeling needs to find release in some way. If these feelings are not made real, it divides body and soul.” Now Sean ran his fingers through his own hair, smiling sheepishly, “God, I sound like a bloody guru or something, but trust me, I realize now that was a large part of my issues with my past relationships – that I never allowed myself to show feelings – it wasn’t ‘manly’ and all that rot. I know better now, thanks to you. And what I feel for you…” And here he paused, searching for the right words. He wasn’t unsure about his feelings, nor was he shy to speak of them, but there just didn’t seem anything in the entire language of mankind strong enough, powerful enough to convey them… Not even the word ‘love’. He pulled Viggo into a tight embrace, lips poised just on the threshold. “It’s just…beyond the limits I have ever known and I need to feel it with my body as strong as I feel it within my soul.” Viggo was humbled. He’d always been the philosopher, the wordsmith, able to craft emotions and images with a pithy phrase or two, but right now Sean left him near speechless and close to tears. “Sean, love…you never fail to surprise me,” and he meant every word. “Here I thought…I don’t know what I thought. But you truly and honestly want this…” The Brit nodded slowly, lips coming ever closer, “Yes, love. I do.” And as they kissed, Viggo softly gazed into the most famous green eyes of one of the best actors and worst liars in the world and admiration struck him in the face of Sean’s brutal honesty which had led the man to a deeper knowledge of self than all the brooding and over-analyzing could ever achieve. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A full moon bathed the open space of Viggo’s studio in a luminously mystic radiance, the gentle silver light full of promise, illuminating the lowered massage table like an altar to some pagan god. The haunting strains of Clannad whispered in the background as the scent of Nag Champa and the rising tide of expectation became a heady, intoxicating fog. Viggo smiled at his lover who stood before him, defiantly naked, the moonlight bathing his golden skin in silvery luminescence. The blonde hair was transformed into shimmering strands of white starlight; the green eyes like precious glittering jewels set in a crown of pale, silky lashes. It was an image that Viggo would never forget and realized that even attempting to capture it in pentameter or on canvas would never do this moment justice. He breathed in the heady atmosphere, excitement warring with the smallest hint of trepidation. It had taken weeks to prepare – weeks of detailed research – on the internet as well as contacting old acquaintances who were either branded or were trained as branders. He read even more than he usually did, from the pop culture articles to more obscure treatises on the subject, the pros and the cons. He’d known the mixed history of branding, especially in America, where it had been used to deny the humanity of black slaves from Africa. He’d also read that some black fraternities were defiantly reclaiming the brand as a means to forge a link to a painful past. He’d told Sean of his proposed design, of the ‘V’ and the ‘S’ intertwined and the heart encircling it. “Do it,” was Sean’s reply, and there would be no argument. The Brit was steadfast – or stubborn. The weeks of intensive study, of inner doubts and questions all culminated into this moment. Sean walked into Viggo’s protective embrace as they pulled each other close, content for now to savor the heat and the hardness of their naked bodies. “I love you Sean,” Viggo whispered into the soft silk of his hair. “And I am honored more than you could ever know.” “Then make me yours for life…” For life… Emotion welled in him, his chest swelled to bursting with love and pride, threatening to overflow, but now was not the time to shed tears. He needed all his faculties intact. They kissed deeply, lips and tongues eloquently speaking the truth within their hearts. Gently, Viggo laid Sean on the soft surface. Sean looked up at him, lips parted, trust and love in that gaze. Gift or sacrifice… Oh god…his bare feet made cold contact with the small propane blowtorch he’d placed on the floor along with the other supplies he would need. Fourteen-hundred degrees on bare flesh…a nanosecond of excruciating agony… He crushed his mouth roughly against Sean’s, not wanting his lover to see the war he waged inside still. Hands used to create beauty, not pain…at least, not this kind of pain. But Sean read the indecision within the punishing kiss, and pushed Viggo away, holding him fast, his eyes darkening with anger. “You promised me, Vig,” Sean growled deep. “I want this, damn you.” “I can’t…” came the anguished reply, and the blue-eyed man closed his eyes, looking away from the accusing stare. “Of course not,” Sean spat derisively. “You can only hurt me when you want to, when you feel like it. God forbid that I ever ask for something…” Ask for something…ask for something… “You don’t understand, Sean…” “The hell I don’t! I thought we’d already gone through this. I know it’s gonna hurt like a sonofabitch, but I’m ready for that. You’re just being selfish because it’s something I want. Something the oh-so sexually experienced Viggo Mortensen didn’t come up with first!” “Fuck you, Sean,” Viggo snarled. “You think this is some game of one-upsmanship or something? We’re talking about a third-fucking-degree burn on your body or have you forgotten that?” “No you Danish bastard, I haven’t. But you’ve obviously forgotten everything I said to you.” “…I don’t like pain for pain’s sake and I wouldn’t allow anyone else to do to me the things that we do and that includes what I’m asking and you should damn well know that by now...” “…It’s just…beyond the limits I have ever known and I need to feel it with my body as strong as I feel it within my soul…” Feel it within my soul… Feel it… A steely resolve came over Viggo; his eyes became cool blue flames. “You want to feel the fire then? Fine, Sean, I’ll give you that and more…” And this time the kiss was a ravishment, a taking and not an asking. He heard Sean whimper beneath him, but the cries only inflamed him as his hands shaped the nature and direction of his lover’s desire. Eyes glittering like star sapphires, he placed the piece of shaped metal into Sean’s hands. “It’s real now, Sean. Not a textbook exercise, not research. Feel that, you son of a bitch. Let your mind wrap around the fact that it’s going to glow orange-red and then I’m going to press that into your skin and hold it there…” With a savage groan, Viggo took Sean’s mouth again as he spread the man’s legs wide, placing them over his shoulders, then bending them towards Sean’s shoulders. The bottle of lubricant was within reach and he flipped the cap open, and he coated his cock liberally, as well as two fingers. The fingers worked themselves inside of Sean, stretching his entrance, slicking the inner surface, stroking the explosive center as Sean tried to bring himself closer, to beg with his body. Roughly removing his hand, Viggo’s cock slowly sheathed itself deep inside Sean until he was fully seated. And there time stopped… “I’m going to brand you now, Sean Mark Bean,” Viggo’s voice was a rasp of dark desire. “I’m going to make you mine for the rest of your natural life, and goddammit you had better not ever regret it.” And Sean nodded as he watched Viggo prepare himself first – wiping his hands free of the slippery lube, then with cloths saturated in alcohol. Viggo put on latex gloves then began to clean the surface of Sean’s upper thigh with antiseptic, still locked in their sensual embrace. Sean’s body was pliant before him, relaxed and ready, not even the smallest trace of fear in the beautiful green eyes. “Give it to me…” And Sean’s palm opened, spilling the tiny shape into Viggo’s hand, whispering, “’It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing. Such a little thing’…” No, Sean, Viggo thought as he placed the design within the vice grips he held. This is far from just a little thing, something that Boromir himself did not understand until the end. Our initials intertwined within a heart forever embedded in your flesh… Viggo slowly turned on the fuel a little and lit the trapped gas in the spark cup of the torch. He watched, fascinated as a bluish cone began to form in the center of the flame then solidify. He brought the metal to the flame, watching it, watching Sean, who remained silent and still, almost frozen, though he could feel the man trembling inside. “Breathe damn you,” he growled as the V and the S began to glow bright orange. The heart turned into fire. …And before any other thought could enter his mind, he quickly and firmly laid the brand upon Sean’s flesh… …And somehow they both screamed at the same time… Sean was trapped between polar extremes - searing agony as his own flesh burned, a white hot wall of pain that encircled him, threatening to tear him asunder, the V and the S and the heart burning past muscle, bone and sinew scoring his vitals - and wild soaring ecstasy as he experienced two types of fire – the one that held him impaled between his legs and the one that marked him forever. Viggo’s scream was neither fear nor pain, but a perverse pride that his lover was willing to bear this for love. He screamed Sean’s name, putting even heaven on notice that they would never be parted now… Searing gazes met, as molten hot as the metal that burned into Sean’s skin. Sean’s whole body contracted with the explosion of heat rushing through him, tensing so hard Viggo felt drawn into him, deep, deep into his body, deep into that gaze… The rings of Sean’s irises flashed, coronas of green suns pulsing in eruptions, pupils dilated to an almost fathomless black. Viggo´s eyes shone not only with triumph, pleasure and lust but something much more passionate… touching the secret of love. Sean’s eyes never wavered, though sweat bathed his skin and his body rebelled. It was done. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It had taken mere seconds, but those seconds had been as a lifetime. The metal rapidly cooled and Viggo removed it, tossing vice grips aside as he shut off the propane, denying the hungry flames sustenance in revenge for the pain it had been used to inflict upon the man he loved. They were still joined, and remained so during Viggo’s tender aftercare of the wound. Using a fresh glove, he applied a liberal amount of Neosporin in order to keep the brand from becoming infected. Then he bandaged it with gauze and secured it with surgical tape. Sean’s fingers reached up, entwined themselves in Viggo’s hair and pulled him down for yet another kiss, this one filled with tenderness and understanding and relief. “I’m yours forever, Viggo Peter Mortensen,” he whispered softly against his lover’s lips. “United in pain and pleasure.” And the dam of tears Viggo had held back broke with violent force as his mouth sealed itself to Sean’s, each swipe of his tongue seeking solace, each sweet caress of his hands lavishly and lovingly praised the man beneath him. In the wildness of their loving, the pain in Sean’s body became a dull throb as they pledged themselves to the other over and over, extracting passionate promises with their lips, their hips, their eyes, their hearts and their souls. And when Viggo finally spilled himself inside of Sean, the last of his tears drained away leaving him cleansed and whole.