Title: Power Struggle
Author: klatschmohn (rotpunkt)
Rating: NC-17 (finally…)
Pairing: Viggo Mortensen / Sean Bean
Feedback: Yes, please! Email: klatschmohnrot@yahoo.de
Disclaimer: All fiction! Never happened.
Warning: adult content, bondage
Notes: For Ashlyn, again, for too many reasons to list them all here…

Summary: Viggo knows what he wants - and hopes he knows what Sean needs

Chapter 3: Powerstruggle - Make love not war

Sean´s body shivers from pent-up frustration, shaking from boiling rage like the lid of 
a pot clattering before the heated water spills over in founts.

He shuts his eyes and Viggo bets he´s focussing, using the techniques he learned at 
RADA to calm himself and slow down his heart rate.

Viggo has never seen anything in his entire life that compares to the glorious sight of 
this strong, proud man bound. 

A captured hero. The pathetic suffering of a noble chief at the stake.

He approaches him cautiously, watching out for signs of danger. He sees Sean tense 
up even more as if preparing for a last attack.

“Kick me and you´ll pay for it,” he warns, his voice low and cold. “I don´t think you 
need me to explain that you´re at my mercy now? One stupid move and I´ll whip 
you.”

Sean growls, clinging to some last shreds of rebellion, but both know it´s an empty 
threat. Viggo crouches between his legs, now confident that Sean will not try 
anything. He leans over him like in Boromir´s death scene. 

It takes every ounce of willpower Sean has to hold himself down, trying to avoid 
Viggo´s searing gaze.

Viggo reaches out, touching his cheek with the back of his hand as he did during 
shooting.

“Sean. You know that I know.”

Sean tries to look as if he hasn´t a clue what Viggo talks about so miraculously.

But Boromir never lies, Neither do Boromir´s eyes, and Viggo can see the truth in the 
lambent green orbs.
He even knows that Sean knows he cannot cheat him.

“God, Sean, you were so hard I´d probably have felt it through plate armour.” He 
bows down a little closer and continues in a low, seductive murmur: “And so was I. 
You know that, too. Isn´t it foolish to deny that to each other?”

Sean doesn´t answer. In fact, he doesn´t react at all. He even seems to have 
forgotten his situation and his urge to escape, lying perfectly still and calm.

“I´m not a beginner, Sean,” Viggo goes on, stroking him lightly, tantalizing the other 
man´s senses. “I´ve seen the heat in your eyes when you look at me and think no 
one else is watching. I know that look, Sean. I´ve been with enough men to know 
what it means.”

Viggo leans down for another kiss, but Sean flinches away, wrenching his head to 
the side. Viggo takes hold of his face with both hands, cradling it with a gentle force 
that will not be denied. 

“Look at me and tell me it´s not true. But I hope I don´t have to remind you that 
Boromir never lies…”

Sean gives a desperate sigh – Viggo never knew such a simple sound could contain 
so great of a confession – and he smiles at Sean with fondness.

A good actor doesn´t necessarily make a good liar, and though Viggo has often 
watched the mask fall on Sean´s face when confronted with personal questions in 
interviews, Sean still doesn’t feel comfortable with evasive excuses and short-cut 
denials, causing sweet embarrassment or cold stiffness on his face.

And there are some things Sean has never learned to conceal. At least not from 
those who know what to look for.

Viggo slowly starts to kiss him again, tenderly and playfully exploring Sean´s mouth. 
He doesn´t do much in the way of returning the kiss but there´s little resistance. Only 
when Viggo begins to kiss his way down Sean´s throat, following the curved line of 
his collar bones to his shoulders, leaving a trace of wet kiss-steps and little sizzling 
spots where he sucked until Sean´s blood rose to the surface, Sean finally interrupts 
him with a choked voice.

“Stop it… Please.”

Viggo gazes at his friend´s face, and is filled with compassion as he sees the 
battlefield of contradictory feelings that are in war with each other. It´s more than 
indecision; Sean is literally torn apart inside. Minutes ago he was insane with rage, 
but it was a rage partly born of suppressed desire, and now the feelings bait and 
switch like a disoriented magician who can´t make up his mind in which shape to 
appear.

He doesn´t quite stop stroking Sean, massaging his sides with deft hands, already 
sure that Sean´s body joyfully joins the game, wether Sean´s mind likes it or not.

“Vig… perhaps it´s usual for you to feel this way, but for me…”

“Really,” Viggo asks quietly, struck by the sheer helplessness in the Englishman´s 
eyes. “Never once?” His voice is full of affection and respect and wonder and maybe 
it´s the fact that Viggo doesn´t make light of his inexperience what finally convinces 
Sean to let him continue his kissing research mission once more.

Viggo acquaints himself with the parts of Sean´s skin he missed during his first 
descent, making sure not to ignore a single inch, and Sean is trembling and sighing 
from the intensity, his former anger and rage melting quickly into lust like a glacier 
into a roaring waterfall.

Sean hisses quietly as Viggo opens his Jeans and pulls them down, freeing an 
achingly hard cock. 

Boromir never lies, Viggo thinks to himself, soft eyes swallowing the length and 
breadth of Sean´s erection. 

Obviously, Boromir´s cock never lies either.

And Viggo goes down, licking and sucking, tasting all of Sean´s musky and male 
flavours.

Sean groans in desperate need. “Pease, Vig. Untie me,” he begs, as if remembering 
his situation for the first time. “I want to touch you.”

Viggo´s mouth slowly travels upwards celebrating a short reunion with Sean´s navel 
and nipples.

Lying stretched out on top of Sean, the two men lock passion-filled eyes.

“Only if you really want me to, Sean,” Viggo whispers, full of urgency and hunger. 
“But, please, Sean… let me have you like this…”
 
Pulsing desire nearly strangles him, lust glowing in his ocean-dark eyes as the image 
of a bound and naked Sean is forever seared into his mind.

His voice is ragged and husky. “Oh god, Sean, it turns me on to see you like this… 
tied down and naked in front of me…”

Sean lowers his lashes. Viggo senses shame but no outrage. His body language 
reveals awkwardness - the virginal flush, the way he averts his eyes from Viggo´s – 
and the contrast between these gestures of shyness and innocence and the rough 
beauty of his manly face is thrilling.

Viggo´s desire is so powerful it´s almost frightening. A part of Sean wants to deny his 
request but the refusal hovers there, just on the threshold of his lips, unwilling to 
formulate the words under Viggo´s intense stare. Sean opens his mouth, shuts it, and 
tries again… takes another go… but after several failing attempts the battle within is 
over.

Sean returns Viggo´s demanding gaze with a mixture of fear and trust. 

Surrender has never had such a beautiful face before.

Interesting, Viggo thinks to himself in the span of a few moments, how practical 
matters always reinsert themselves, ruthless towards romantic situations.

“Hang on a minute, love…” Viggo whispers, and disappears into the house, to 
rummage through drawers and return with a bottle of lube.

Very funny, Sean thinks with a certain wry irony, as if he had any other choice.

With Viggo no longer covering him, that undeniable heat no longer clouding his 
senses, Sean´s fears and doubts once again rise to the fore, though intrinsically he 
knows the arguments against his feelings are weak.

Still… what his body wants… he doesn´t quite understand.

He does desire Viggo. He always has, it seems, but…

…But the panicked look in his eyes will not melt away so easily and by the time Viggo 
returns from his quest, he realizes what happened.

Viggo´s glad he left him tied up, otherwise the man would have vanished on him.

Isn´t it possible to leave the boy alone for a minute…!?

“Viggo – untie me,” Sean begins, and can´t he ask of anything else? “I´m just not 
ready for this. I can´t...I can´t,”

Shit, Viggo curses silently, having managed to get so far only to watch it all unravel 
right before his eyes and begin at the start again like at some fucking game of dice.

“Sean,” and Viggo covers him again hunting for the rest of his patience which has 
disappeared the moment his libido took over practically every rational thinking 
process. “You have thought of it before… you know you want to try… why not 
now…?”

He takes up his caresses again, first with gentle persuasion and then with tender 
demand, and he prays he´ll do it right and not blow it all with a mistake, do it well, not 
too fast or too slow… he´s never wanted anyone as much as he wants this rough and 
golden-haired man laid out before him like a feast and he has to make Sean want 
him just as much or else it will all be for nothing and he will feel like a complete flop 
for the rest of his life. What use is it to succeed on every field of activity when you fail 
in the most important moment of your life? 

Viggo´s hands are all over him and he´s whispering soothing words in his ear, “I´ll go 
slowly, Sean… don´t be afraid. I want you, Sean, please…”

Ironically it´s Viggo who´s pleading and begging with a tied up man but he doesn´t 
give a damn as long as it works.

After a while he can feel Sean relax. 
Eyes meet again and Viggo is relieved beyond imagination, because he doubts he´d 
have the discipline to release Sean at this stage, even if he insisted, and he really 
doesn´t want to think on that scenario...

But he wants to hear Sean confess. “Say the words.”

And Sean does, shaking from desire. “I want you, Vig…” he groans, the green eyes 
heavily lidded with uncontrollable need. 

The floodgates open and there´s no turning the tide.

“Get on your hands and knees,” Viggo orders.

Sean manoeuvres into the required position and both are thankful the restraints have 
enough give for this to work.

Sean´s well-muscled buttocks are a temptation Viggo cannot resist, stroking the 
smooth skin, while using a well-lubed finger to lightly probe the cleft.

A faint cry of Sean, muscles already clenching.
God, Sean´s so damn tight, to prepare him means work. Viggo uses his arm to wipe 
the sweat off his forehead
Ok, he´s done that before, he knows what to do, shouldn´t be an insurmountable 
handicap after all the trials and tribulations he has overcome in the last half an hour, 
and since Sean said he´s a virgin what has he expected anyway? If he only wasn´t 
that nervous, like some candidate for exam who´s forgotten all he´s ever learned.

Viggo goes slowly, opening Sean up to new sensations, stroking and soothing him, 
whispering words to inflame and incite. With each gasp from the man beneath him, 
he pauses, allowing Sean to adapt and adjust.

He stretches him expertly, carefully – one finger only, murmuring: “Relax, Sean… feel 
me inside you… like this…yes…come on…”
 
Sean obviously has other ideas. Craning his head over his shoulder, he snarls at 
Viggo: “I´m not one of your nags shying or running wild, mate! Can´t you just shut up 
and do it?”

If Sean was one of his horses he could be ridden a hell of a lot easier, Viggo thinks to 
himself, then ceases to think at all as the image of giving Sean what he´s asking for 
nearly undoes him.

“Is that what you really want Sean?”

“Yeah Viggo… just do it…” 

There is no way to enter Sean without hurting him, at least at first, in spite of the 
preparation and the generous amount of lube he´s used to slick himself up and to 
coat Sean´s entrance.

He has to push hard to force him open and get in just a few inches. The sensation of  
tight heat is overwhelming, and though he doesn´t want to hurt Sean, he can´t help 
moaning a deep shuddering breath of pleasure even as he feels Sean itching with 
pain beneath him, whimpering quietly.

Hands gripping Sean´s waist tightly, he waits, allowing for Sean to accustom himself 
to the fullness.

Sean moans, the outer ring muscle contracting, unsure about this invasion. He 
relaxes, taking in deep breaths as Viggo slowly breaches him.
 
Slowly and evenly, as much for his own benefit as for Sean´s, he begins a steady 
rhythm with strong but not brutal thrusts, his hand stroking Sean´s cock as he 
trembles beneath him. 

Viggo can sense the moment of Sean´s surrender. 

A sudden softness and pliability of his body, as if Sean´s muscles and nerves, every 
fibre of his being were connected to Viggo´s central nervous system, no longer 
obedient to Sean´s will but Viggo´s. He feels totally in control of Sean and a rush of 
lust for power floods his veins, more intoxicating than any drug Viggo has ever 
sampled.
.
Yes, he will possess Sean, in every way possible – heart, mind, spirit, just as he 
possesses his body now. He will have him, claim him… 

He looks down again at Sean, bound to him, begging with his sighs and ragged 
whispers, and lust flickers within him like tongues of flames.

But there is no thought of abusing his power. He needs to please Sean, to hold him, 
to love him… to make him want it, want it again, and want it forever and ever again…

He strikes Sean´s sweet spot over and over, urged on by Sean´s deep throated 
moans of pleasure. At the same time he strokes his cock with well-dosed pressure, 
making him last, longing, starving, until every single cell in Sean´s body screams for 
orgasm and he´s begging, not only with passion-ragged words, but with his whole 
body, offering himself to Viggo completely, feverishly shaking with need.

Only then does Viggo show mercy, finishing him with one last forceful surge, and 
Sean is gone, crying out and coming so hard he shoots hot onto Viggo´s hand and 
on the grass below him, whispering Viggo´s name again and again until the last 
splashes and drops are spent.

Now it´s suddenly so easy to bend him even further, spread his legs wider, fuck him 
deeper.

“Down.”

Viggo´s hard hand shoves his face down in the grass, holding him fast.

Viggo has the perfect angle to fuck Sean practically into the ground and there´s 
nothing Sean can do about it..

Only one thought, one want left – to fuck Sean, fuck him, fuck him in his tight ass, 
fuck his hot clenching hole… take him, take him, take him… 

The force of Viggo´s orgasm causes him to cry out from the sheer magnitude of 
sensation that tosses him about and he comes hard and deep in Sean´s body, 
collapsing on him and bearing him down with his weight. 

Spent and almost drained, Viggo starts to rise from Sean´s back.

“Stay,” whispers Sean.

Viggo hestitates, unbelieving. 

“I like to feel you on me,” Sean says simply, and as Viggo covers him with his body 
again, he sighs satisfied, like a child rocked into sleep. 

----------------------------------------

Peter looks suspiciously at Sean, hiding his doubts and radiating confidence as best 
as he can.

“I hope you´ve worked out whatever the hell´s going on in your head”, Peter says with 
a tinge of asperity. “I´ve got that torturous helm´s Deep shoot and I really don´t want 
to spend another bloody day watching Boromir refuse to die. So for god´s sake Bean, 
will you just die today, and then we can all go home.”

Walloping Sean´s shoulder, he misses the look on the other man´s face as he 
announces the first take of the second day of the shooting of Boromir´s death scene.

Inwardly he hopes they will at least not need a third day.

The “clap” is heard, the cameras are whirring.

So far, Peter admits, watching the two actors before him, Sean is doing well. 
The relief is short-lived as Peter waits with baited breath for the words Sean would 
only spit out with so much venom the day before

“I would have followed you…” says Sean, and Peter is stunned at the tone of willing 
loyalty.

“…My brother…” he whispers with his last breaths, eternal faithfulness and friendship 
in his voice, love shining in his eyes. Peter raises his eyebrows, and even the crew is 
taken aback, watching in awe.

What the hell…?

“…My captain…” Sean goes on, respectfully attempting to stand fast in spite of his 
grave injuries, the promise of obedience even past death clearly expressed in his 
unwavering gaze.

Peter´s lower jar simply drops.

It´s one of the few times he´s not gesticulating wildly, directing the activities of his 
cast and crew, but the extraordinary event is hardly noticed because everyone´s 
attention is utterly absorbed by Sean´s incredible skill. 

Sean´s face finally transfigures in bliss and glory.

“…My king…” he concludes, the last gasps filled with pure and honest devotion 
aimed at Viggo, whose eyes are welled-up with glittering tears.

Boromir surrenders to Aragorn as deeply and completely as a man can surrender to 
another man.

Is this the same Sean Bean who practically snarled those lines yesterday, not even 
willing to let a hint of friendliness enter his voice, yet alone submission?

Peter shakes his head. Actors. One never knows what´s going on in their twisted little 
heads. He hadn´t considered Sean a “diva”, but… well, actors, you know?

Moody as hell.


THE END